#barrel riding shenanigans

[mey-rin-is-fabulous]

HAPPY 10TH TO THE HOBBIT: DESOLATION OF SMAUG. December 12 to 13.

[explorevenus]

dirty laundry ♡ re6!leon kennedy x puppy hybrid!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 5.1k

tags/warnings: re6!leon, stubborn/reluctant puppy reader who pretends she hates him, brief chris redfield appearance, forced proximity (kinda), leon pining for u (he wants u to call him daddy btw), hybrid heat cycle shenanigans, thigh riding, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), no use of y/n

description: leon's had a tough time figuring out his new puppy hybrid roommate... outside of the fact that she's sweet on him, and just won't admit it. lucky for leon, he comes home from a mission to find her airing her dirty laundry.

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my beloved and adored @pupthepokemonenthusiast who is one of MY FAVORITE PEOPLE ON EARTH EVER ?!!!! and i luv yapping w them and that makes collaborating w them such a dream every time....

divider by @cafekitsune !!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

Loose gravel crunched beneath Leon's boots, uneven pavement glittering with moisture in the streetlights. It was somewhere between raining and snowing, the wind splattering his rosy cheeks with little drops of condensation, every breath puffing out in a visible cloud, head tilted down at just the right angle to protect the lower half of his bruised face from the cold while still being able to see where he was going.

He didn't have a specific destination in mind, and truth be told, he couldn't really read most of the signage around here anyway-- it was all in Mandarin, and his Mandarin was even less reliable than his Spanish, to put it gently. But he could read what he needed to, at least, enough to find the basics like food, bathrooms, lodging, or hospitals, and more importantly, he could discern the backlit lettering above the shop two doors down; antiques and collectibles. 

That was a phrase he'd familiarized himself with in damn near every language under the sun by now. 

A bell dinged quietly overhead as he stepped into the storefront, grateful that it was even open past 9 o'clock at night. It was only one room and didn't have much space to walk around, but every available surface was stacked to the brim with knick-knacks of all shapes, colors, sizes, and price points under no apparent system of organization. Where some might be overwhelmed or put off by the volume of things to look at, Leon felt his heart skip a beat with excitement. He still had some time to kill before his transport back to the States was due to arrive, and not a single minute of it would be wasted overlooking any potential gems. 

Judging by the horrified stares he was attracting, Leon could imagine he looked fucking insane right now, clothes still splattered with wet, rotting blood and the barrel of his gun practically still smoking in his holster as he towered over a shelf in the back corner, scrutinizing a darling little plush bear in one hand and a set of hand-painted matryoshka dolls in the other like it was the hardest decision he would ever have to make. 

Ultimately, he chose not to decide at all-- money wasn't a factor, so why not buy both? If it weren't for the issue of luggage, he'd just say 'fuck it' and buy out the whole damn store. Unfortunately, helicopters tended to be quite limited in space. 

Self control was a skill Leon used to have mastered, perhaps even too well-- for a long time, every uncomfortable, unsightly, pesky little emotion was pressed down into a condensed cube to be neatly packed away in the very back corners of his brain, boxes upon boxes of dense feelings continuing to pile up and take over more and more space up there until the pressure became too much, the lid blew, and he went off the fucking handle. It wasn't something he was proud of by any means, all those long months blurred into mush through a lens of alcoholism and other reckless behaviors, but what he did try to let himself be proud of was his relative success in making it to the other side. 

That, of course, was a feat he did not accomplish without help, nor would he ever claim to. Chris Redfield was instrumental in his recovery in more ways than one, and at times, without even realizing it. He was a listening ear, a dealer of tough love, a trusted confidant...

...and the reason he had you. 

For obvious reasons, Leon had never gone out of his way to get a pet in his adult life. It just felt irresponsible with the inconsistency and uncertainty of his work situation, even with all the money in the world to spend on trainers and walkers and boarding and... whatever else, but at that point, it would feel less like a pet than an accessory, and Leon didn't have much interest in material. Never saw the need for it. Then one day Chris woke him up in the middle of the night banging on the door to his apartment with a gift he never expected.

"She's a... what?"

"A hybrid. She's a human-canine hybrid, Leon." 

Leon glanced between you and Chris with skepticism in his eyes, only to find the same look peering back at him in you. It was almost kind of funny that he'd have a hard time believing there could be such a thing as a human-canine hybrid, considering all he'd seen in his line of work, a thought that made his shoulders and his expression relax almost instantly. 

You were a real cutie, that was for sure, tucked behind Chris and staring up at Leon through your eyelashes with this grumpy little look on your face, a plush, patchwork bear clutched to your chest. The toy was equally as vibrant and colorful as your clothing, if not a bit worn with time. Your ears were long and droopy, your tail hanging low but swishing side-to-side with cautious interest, and the longer he studied you, the more he became endeared by you. 

"The B.S.A.A. rescued a group of hybrids from an illegal facility a few weeks ago, but finding accommodations for them isn't as simple as it sounds," Chris continued, resting a hand on your shoulder in an apparent move to reassure you. "Long story short, the people who were in charge of that facility aren't too happy about the acquisition, and the hybrids aren't safe at the B.S.A.A. anymore. Would you be willing to shelter her for a while?" 

The firm look in Chris' eyes-- and the fact that he just had to bring this up with you right in front of him-- made it clear he wasn't really asking. No mind, Leon would have done it anyway. It just would have been nice to have had a heads up to rectify the state of the apartment. 

"Yeah, of course," Leon nodded gently, stepping aside to allow you and Chris further into the apartment. "Make yourself at home." He caught the way your head tilted up a bit, as if you were studying the scent in the air, and he supposed it made sense that you likely were.

That was four months ago. And for the past four months, Leon quite enjoyed having you around. You were silly and playful, always bounding around the apartment with a toy clenched between your teeth or lounging in the sunny spots in front of the windows, pawing at him for belly rubs and treats and infinite tug-o-war matches. All that being said, you were equally stubborn, resisting him at every turn like magnetic repulsion, always kicking up a fuss seemingly just for the sake of it.

He wasn't sure. You were tough to read. Not only did some of your canine personality traits make you a bit forgetful and distractible at times, but you were also just terribly inconsistent with your affections, and he wasn't always sure what to make of it. All he knew was that he was determined to win you over in one way or another, and if he was going to do that, he'd have to figure you out first, and so far that was shaping up to be quite the herculean task. At least it seemed you would be here for a while. 

With the way he guarded your little treasures during the flight home, one might assume he was smuggling something, but he just couldn't stomach the thought of coming home without something to present to you. The hardened federal agent was determined to crack a smile out of you on his terms, to get you to admit what you both knew to be true. 

You had a crush on him. A big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on him, and you rejected the idea of owning up to it so staunchly that it was turning you into a bit of a brat. That was the one thing he could read about you, and it drove you up the wall. 

He certainly wasn't judging you. It would be an absurd lie to say he didn't have a big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on you too-- he'd be insane if he didn't. But the back and forth was far too enjoyable, and Leon was always up for a good natured challenge. 

See, self control was something Leon had worked really, really hard to regain a handle on, and when it came to his drinking and brooding, he certainly had... but when it came to you? Not by a longshot. That being said, he would rather be pouring himself into courting you than pouring himself another bourbon. That's what he used to shut up that little voice in the back of his head that questioned whether or not he was putting too much energy into this, banking too much on it. 

It was innocent, right? It's not like you were a bad influence or whatever. If anything, a lot of nights that he would have spent at the bar were instead being spent at home playing with you. Surely that had to be a net positive, especially considering you would have otherwise been getting poked and prodded at in a lab. 

Stepping back into the apartment for the first time in weeks, Leon hadn't even bothered bringing his duffel bag in with him from the car, the only thing in his arms being the wrinkled paper bag from that antique shop. His own belongings could wait. As soon as he shut and locked the door behind him, stepping out of his shoes, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. 

No lively music from the shows you liked to watch, no little bumps or growls from you playing toys, no quiet padding of your feet across the hardwood from you coming to see who was at the door. He glanced at his watch, finding it was only half past nine in the evening, and while you often proclaimed to abide by a healthy bedtime for yourself, you had a habit of napping all day and bouncing off the walls all night. Something was amiss.

Stepping further into the apartment to investigate the scene, Leon peered into the living room. The lights were on, the TV was off, there were a few toys strewn about the couch and the floor, but not a glimpse of the sweet puppy who left them there. Odd. Suspicious. Maybe even staged. 

His lips came together in a whistle meant to grab your attention, knowing your sharp ears would hear it from anywhere in the apartment, even if you were sleeping. When that call garnered no response, he began to wonder if you were mad at him. After all, he was supposed to return almost three days ago, and while Chris had been able to stop by and check on you when he had the time, it just wasn't the same, and you didn't do well with loneliness, and Leon knew that. 

Turning on his heel to head deeper into the apartment, he continued to find you nowhere. Not climbing the countertops in the kitchen, or playing under the dining table, or even reluctantly having a bath. As he reached the end of the short hallway, there were only two doors left to open. 

Leon tried another whistle and called out, "Hey, pup? I'm home!" 

He waited, and listened... and heard nothing. Your bedroom door was closed, and it looked like the light was on in there, judging by the subtle glow spilling out beneath it, but still, no response. 

His bedroom door, however, was cracked open. The overhead light was off but the bedside lamp was on, and his dirty laundry basket was tipped over on the floor. When he stepped forward to turn it upright again, he thought he saw the bedding shuffle out of the corner of his eye. Closer inspection of the bed brought the case of his missing puppy girl drew to a close. Your soft tail was peeking out beneath the edge of the covers, the markings and patterns in your fur being undeniably familiar to him now. 

It was perfect timing, really-- he was just about to tip over into the realm of worrying about your safety, but now he was back to just worrying you were mad at him... and he couldn't help the amused grin that tugged at his expression. 

"Is that a little puppy in daddy's bed?" He asked aloud, his tone taking on a smitten and adoring lilt. Once again, he received no response... at least not verbally. Quietly setting down that paper bag, he stood there and watched with his arms crossed as your tail fluttered to life in response to his tone, the tip silently patting the sheets in a lazy and reluctant little wag that you might have actually gotten away with, if it weren't for the fact that your tail was in plain view. 

He was initially going to try a few more times to get a response out of you, hoping to make sure you were okay and to see if you wanted to talk, but he quickly realized that wasn't going to work with you. You weren't all doom and gloom like he tended to be, you were silly, you were playful, you were fundamentally kind. A lighthearted approach wouldn't work with him, or with most of the people he dealt with on a day-to-day basis, but it would almost certainly work with you. 

"Well," Leon stretched his arms up with a dramatic groan, "Since there's no puppies in the bed..."

And then he playfully toppled over the lump in the bedding, bracing himself on his elbows so as not to actually crush you, of course, music to his ears being the muffled squeal of stubborn discontent that sounded out from beneath the covers.

"Leon!" You whined, arms squirming around beneath him in a desperate flurry of moves to find the edge of the blanket, tugging it down to free your face for some air. Soon enough your head poked out from beneath the covers and your eyes were already narrowed into unamused slits at him. 

But that wasn't really what caught his attention about the look on your face. You were panting for breath, your ears flopped back lazily and your hair an absolute mess, your skin hot to the touch and clammy with sweat. Now his eyes were narrowed at you in suspicion, because you were certainly frustrated, just... not the kind of frustrated he was anticipating, if his suspicions were found to be correct. 

"You look guilty," He commented, brow raised as he took you by the chin and tilted your head this way and that, as though in observation. "Why do you look guilty, puppy?" 

"I'm not," You were quick to defend yourself-- much too quick, in Leon's opinion-- and you stubbornly recoiled back from his hand, continuing to squirm and resist beneath him. "You're squishing me!" 

You planted the palm of your hand dead in the center of his face in an attempt to push him away, the bedding slipping further down in the process to reveal your flushed collarbones and shoulders, both of which were bare. Were you naked? In his bed? 

He took you by the wrists to pin your hands down with ease, staring down at you in scrutiny. "Don't lie to me, sweetheart," He said, tone firm, but not unkind. "You're red as a tomato." 

With a stubborn whine, your ears flattened back against your messy head in what could only be read as shame, and that certainly wasn't what he was going for at all, even with the compromising position he had you in at the moment. It was just meant to tease you, but you looked mortified, and he could only imagine why that might be. 

"Puppy," He softened, letting go of your wrists, one hand taking you by the cheek to gently caress you. "You know I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on." 

Your mouth fell open and then snapped shut again a time or two, a clear indication that you were tripping over your words in search of the right ones. Finally, you managed, "It's... I-It's hot." 

"Then why are you all bundled up, huh?"

You didn't even really need to admit it at this point, because it was clear as day what was going on here-- after all, Chris had warned him this might happen, that hybrids could have... intense reproductive cycles-- but he also wasn't going to push it if you just wanted to ride it out on your own. He wasn't an expert on this, he didn't know exactly what you needed, and he didn't want to overstep and freak you out.

That being said, the thought that you'd retreated to his bedroom, desperate to surround yourself with his belongings in his absence just to cope with being in heat, was a remarkably good one.

This time you didn't seem to have a retort, still writhing under him and trying to push him off of you, which wasn't new behavior for you, though this time he did take it upon himself to give you some space instead of continuing to mess with you. 

"Alright, alright, relax, daddy's not making fun of you--" 

"You're not my daddy," You interjected stubbornly, but just like always, the rosy, searing blush on your face betrayed how you really felt about the topic, even as you added, "Stop trying to make me call you that!" 

Leon dearly and sincerely adored you, that much was to be sure, but your hard-headedness could run him ragged sometimes, when you'd dig your heels in so hard about things that seemed so innocuous. Whether or not you should be expected to call him daddy-- which he regularly enjoyed teasing you about but would never legitimately force you to do-- didn't feel like the biggest issue at hand here. Not by a mile. 

How was he supposed to focus on that when you were just... burning up? Panting for breath and shaking and whining? Oh dear God, this wasn't good, and for as much effort as he was putting into focusing on your wellbeing, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to focus on the way his pants were beginning to feel uncomfortably cozy in the front. He brought one hand down between you to adjust himself only to find he'd unintentionally solicited a faint, but distinctly needy moan from you in the process, presumably because you'd touched you somewhere he hadn't necessarily meant to. 

"G-Go away, Leon," You insisted, eyes screwed shut as you turned your head to the side and maintained that stubborn frown he knew so well on you. "Get off of me!" 

But your tail was wagging in an absolute blur, thumping mindlessly against the damp sheets and knocking in between his knees at an intensity that was impossible to miss. Leon's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth in an intrigued grin before finally sitting back on his haunches, still straddling you, but at least freeing your upper half. 

"Leon, quit--" 

You poor dear, you were so, so close to finishing that sentence, if only it weren't for the way Leon swung one leg between your own, driving his knee right up to the apex until you felt the muted pressure lavish your clit. Whatever you were about to say fizzled out on your tongue and instead popped out in a string of whimpers, your back arching up off the bed. The movement caused the bedding to slip down just a little bit further, confirming his suspicion that you were in fact naked, at least from the waist up.

Taking the soft globe of your breast into the palm of his hand, Leon let his thumb brush over your already pebbled nipple and asked lowly, "Oh, c'mon, pretty puppy... you're totally sure you don't want daddy's help? I think you're just being fussy..."

Your chest rumbled with a little growl, but it was more of a moan than that, and the fiery glare on your face was the perfect image of it. You were pissed, and quite frankly, it was a good look on you. Maybe even one of his favorites. Suddenly you were baring your teeth at him too, just pretending it was in the opposite way. You were such an open book to him. 

"You're being mean," Huffed the stubborn little puppy, but of course, Leon could be meaner. 

So he was. Leon snatched the covers off the bed in one quick swipe, and what was revealed to him beneath had to have been a thousand times better than anything he might have expected. You were naked, yes, but tangled between your legs was a pair of his sweatpants, undoubtedly retrieved from the depths of the overturned laundry basket, the grey cotton soaked through in patches with slick all over the crotch and thighs. 

Fucking Christ, you weren't just getting off to the thought of him, but also the scent of him, the feeling of his clothes on your skin, and presumably, an idea not unlike what he was already teasing you with; letting you rub one out on his thigh. 

Squishing your cheeks in one hand, he said firmly, "Look at me. Do you honestly feel like I'm being mean to you?" 

There was a pause while you stared at each other, your eyes searching his own skeptically. It didn't really seem he was messing with you, no, in fact he appeared like he really wanted to help you. The back and forth was fun and he enjoyed the little game you'd made out of getting to know each other, but when it came to your comfort and wellbeing, he wasn't interested in being forced to solve puzzles. You couldn't really blame him. 

"N-No," You admitted. 

"Exactly, so just... simmer down, will you?" 

This time Leon didn't give you another chance to tell him to fuck off. He scooped you up at the waist and pulled you to your knees, drawing your body close to his until you were straddling his left thigh. Eyes wide, you stared at him stiffly, like you were too afraid to move. Huffing out a breath, he rolled his eyes with a smirk and gripped your hips, tugging you down until you were finally bearing your weight on him. 

For as fast as your pointed teeth sank into your bottom lip to quiet yourself, it didn't even matter. You still let out a pleasured whine, ears flat against your head and your tail hung low, the tip swishing in a reluctant little wag that patted the outside of his knee with every other beat. 

"You're too precious for your own damn good," He grumbled, thumbs brushing soothing circles into your hips. "Y'know that, pup?"

Breaths falling short, it felt like your head was full of warm mud, teetering for balance on your neck as your upper body tipped forward to grasp at his arms. As expected, Leon caught you effortlessly, steadying you by cupping your face in his hands so he could look you right in your braindead little eyes, your noses almost touching as your tongue lolled out in lazy gasps.

It was obvious he wasn't going to get much more out of you in the way of words at this point, so it was a damn good thing you had that pretty tail knocking about. He figured all that wiggling was the closest he'd get to a literal window into your mind. 

"Go on, then," Leon smoothed your hair away from your sticky forehead, still mindful to hold you upright. His tone was low and, as always, far too sweet for you... but it was so nice, it vibrated down to the base of your spine and made you dizzier. You were just about to fulfill what he was encouraging you to do when he added wryly, "You've already made such a mess, don't get shy on me now." 

A quiet whimper stuttered from your dry throat-- you couldn't sit still anymore, he was being evil and he knew it, downright evil... and you typically would have stuck up your nose at him and brooded on it for a while, but you didn't even have the strength of mind for that at the moment. You hardly even realized you were already rocking your hips back and forth against the clothed meat of his thigh, nails threatening to snap under the pressure as they begged to sink past his shirt and into his muscles. 

It was pleasant, sure, but it wasn't nearly enough, especially not after hours and hours and hours of tossing and turning in his bed, rubbing yourself nearly numb with your fingers and your toys and his pillows and his clothes, aching for something tangible and warm to nurse the pain away. You let your forehead rest against his own for a moment to catch your breath, hoping to find the right angle, but you just weren't getting what you needed, and the frustration alone made your glassy eyes sting with the threat of tears. 

That just wouldn't do. 

"Oh, you really made a mess, didn't you, sweet girl?" Leon cooed sympathetically, shushing your delicate cries. Thumbs skimming over your burning cheeks, he asked quietly and carefully, "Why don't you let daddy lick it up, hm?" 

Your expression scrunched up in a weak pout and your empty little head bobbed up and down in an airy nod, and just as soon as you gave him that go-ahead, he was moving to make it so. You were on your back in seconds, Leon's broad hands spreading your plush thighs apart to make space for himself between them, and for as cool and composed as he was trying to appear right now, he couldn't help the low moan that made it past him just at the sight of you. 

Sure, he'd seen more than enough by now to guess that you were wet, but you weren't just wet, you were dripping all over yourself. It was all he could do to collect as much of you on his tongue as possible, groaning at the taste and dragging you closer by your hips until he was as close as he could get, the tip of his nose buried against the curls at the lowest point of your mound as he lapped you up with abandon.

You were writhing and crying, legs kicking out at the stimulation before drawing back up to dig into his shoulders and pull him further into you, into the mess of you. He'd managed to find it somehow, to become that something tangible and warm and redefine it, unraveling you from the root with a sanguine sense of desperation that was tempered by his undying commitment to treating you like you were made of glass. 

Your tail was curling up tight against the base of your spine, your chest was heaving for breath, you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore, and he hardly could either. 

But he also couldn't stand not to. If you had the capacity to pay attention to small details, you might have noticed his eyes were just as bleary and drunk as yours were. Leon recorded your every movement in his mind like scripture from this angle, his own hips rutting down into the bed while yours bucked into his mouth, and it was only when he found the strength to pull away for air that he found a moment to reorient himself in reality. 

His lips were puffy, rosy, and slick with you as he caught his breath, two fingers toying with your puffy, aching clit in the absence of his tongue. It was almost like muscle memory for him to reach up with his free hand and pat your belly, an affectionate hum ringing from him at the near-immediate reaction it got out of you, even in a state like this. You were squirming and arching beneath him as your quivering body fought to determine priority over the attention brought by either hand, a rather endearing dilemma to have found yourself in. 

"Oh, my poor baby," Leon preened, lavishing the inside of your right thigh with kisses. "You're so cute..." 

Unable to help himself from letting you have the best of both forms of pampering, he replaced the tips of his fingers with his tongue yet again, freeing both hands to pet your soft tummy. The movements were lazy, but sure enough, your tail was going off as fast as it could while you laid there shivering and whining and clawing at him, tumbling over the edge into release before you could come up with a way to warn him first. 

As if he would have cared anyway. A warning wouldn't have changed anything. Hell, it might have even spoiled what turned out to be a dizzying moment of unabashed indulgence for him. 

Gentle, adoring hands kneading delicately at all your favorite spots, Leon willfully deprived himself of oxygen in pursuit of every drop of your syrup as it flowed from you, knowing he would come to regret being wasteful later if this should turn out to be a one-time thing. He lost himself to the throes of hedonism for several drawn out moments until he was confident you were licked clean, until he came to again and realized you had gone completely limp in the wake of your expenditure. 

Rolling over onto his back, Leon spread out just as bonelessly across the bed as you did, the both of you a sorry sight of sweat and heat. He spent several minutes trying to find a way to break the silence. With the haze of lust wearing off a bit and clearing up space in his mind for more intelligent processes, Leon was already beginning to dread the inevitable conversation this would warrant between the two of you.

Lucky for him, that was so far outside of the realm of your current train of thought... or lack thereof. You certainly felt better, but that didn't mean your brain wasn't mud anymore. Little else mattered to your muggy, muddled mind but the here and now. 

In an unexpected move, you rolled onto your side to rest your head against his chest. The way you struggled to meet his eyes was enough for him to know you were likely still struggling to talk, or maybe you just didn't really want to, but the olive branch you'd extended demonstrated your agreeable state, which was more than he could've said for you half an hour ago. 

Shit, half an hour ago he was still hoping a couple presents from his trip would win your affections, yet here he was with the taste of you lingering on his lips, your naked body curled up to him for comfort. 

Wrapping his arm tightly around you until you were tucked up comfortably into his side, Leon rested his chin atop your head and mumbled fondly, "What am I gonna do with you, huh? Can't even sleep in my own bed after a long mission 'cause this pretty little puppy made such a big mess... I hope you know how to work the washing machine."

[jungle-angel]

Could you do 45 from your Fourth of July prompts with Bob Floyd, the kids and whole dagger squad (maybe including Joe and Irene)

The horses stamped and snorted as Bob led his own back to the lot where you, the Daggers, the kids and his parents had been setting up a tailgating party for after the rodeo. Bob had taken first place in the first round of barrel racing and roping championships, much to everybody's surprise.

"Daddy!! Daddy!!! Is Gus ready for food?" Auggie chirped, running up to his father.

"Go get his hay bucket and you can feed him," Bob told him.

Auggie ran right off to go and get Gus's hay bucket, the big stallion snorting and eager for food.

"Ah shit, can's empty," Joe sighed, flipping over one of the burgers on the grill. "Auggie!"

Auggie skidded right up to his grandfather, nearly dropping the hay bucket.

"Go get Papa another beer please."

"Yes Papa!" he chirped before running off to the cooler.

Auggie ran right back to Joe with the can of Sam Adams which was promptly cracked open. "You sure you wanna be drinkin?" Bob asked him.

"Two for the chef, one for the dish," Joe chuckled.

"Aw man, best idea EVER!" Coyote exclaimed as he and Jake soaked their feet in an inflateable pool full of ice cubes.

"Don't get too comfortable you two," Irene warned them. "You're helping with the rest of the competition later."

She yelped a little when Joe pulled her in close. "Beer for my lady?" he joked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Irene rolled her eyes, Joe becoming relentless until he dipped her back and kissed her.

"My parents.......are so......friggin.... GROSS!!!" Bob exclaimed.

"But not as gross as us right?" you chuckled.

Bob laughed as he leaned in and kissed you, only interrupted by the babies crawling back up into the truck, your own and those of the Daggers.

"Go get'em guys!" Natasha and Rooster joked. "Go and get Uncle Bob!"

Everyone joked around that whole afternoon, your kids, nieces and nephews all jumping all over you. Even Mav and Penny got in on the shenanigans as you all watched the competitions from bull riding to roping and everything in between. The flags flew proudly from the lot and the stadium, the summer air alive with an air of festivity that you and Bob had always loved.

[ddarker-dreams]

Scarlet Ribbons accidental kisses with the gang? (I love your writing so much! You're one of the best fanfic writers <3 <3 I reread your works so often, they make my day : D)

wahhh thank you so much, i'm happy to know my writing can bring you some joy!!! 💖

i'm going to assume that this request takes place before SR reader is in a relationship with anyone, hopefully that's what you had in mind hkjetgrmw maybe something like she started to trip and x guy went to catch her? some traditional shoujo exploits ...

[Scarlet Ribbons index]

Giorno

There's a 99% chance Giorno's sentient Stand, GER, had a hand in this. The Stand shares Giorno's affection for you and wishes his user would hurry up in courting you already. Giorno catches onto the shenanigans at play but it's too late — while catching you, your lips make contact. His face has never felt so warm. He tries portraying himself in this suave, calm manner, but when you're in his general vicinity, it's a challenge to maintain this balanced state. His voice is a few pitches higher when he rushes through an apology. The Don of Passione would feel less nervous starting down the barrel of a gun. Later, he chastises his conniving Stand, but deep down… he's secretly grateful.

Bruno

Bruno doesn't immediately pull away and thinks less of himself because of it. He's straining himself to the degree that veins start protruding from his forehead. Your comfort matters far more to him than satisfying any carnal needs. After he ensures you're steady, he puts an appropriate amount of distance between you, then starts apologizing for the mishap. If you're feeling particularly mischievous, now would be the most opportune time to tease him. He's usually immune to being flustered, even from you, but the emotions running rampant through his system momentarily lower his defenses. There'll be a slight blush on his sunkissed skin. He's quick to excuse himself so he can get his heart under control.

Fugo

Fugo struggles to make eye contact with you for a solid week. Once he gets past the initial slew of positive hormones that make him feel like he's on cloud nine, reality settles in, and he's mortified. What if you think he's a creep who did it on purpose? The thought alone leads to sleepless nights where he gnaws on his nails. He berates himself and is extra prone to explode with anger at the slightest provocation. You need to reassure him before there's collateral damage. He's still stiff around you for a while, but that's because his eyes start wandering to your lips if he isn't careful. His own start tingling, as if remembering the soft sensation and longing to experience it again.

Mista

Mista knew the lord was on his side. The last time he attended mass, he prayed for something like this to happen. The main objective henceforth is to maintain his cool. Ride out the waves of coincidence and try not to come off too strong, lest he scare you away. Once he's certain you aren't going to unleash your wrath upon him, the cogs in his brain begin turning. What can he say to sweeten the moment? Win you over with his charisma and charm? There's got to be a perfect combination of words that'll have you weak to your knees. Eventually, he settles on complimenting your chapstick flavor. He later bemoans himself for not saying something cooler.

Narancia

It's like raw caffeine was injected into his veins. He's absolutely ecstatic, ready to bounce from wall to wall, even though he recognizes it was an accident. Who cares? This has got to be fate, or whatever it's called, he thinks he heard the term in a movie once. Narancia is bragging about it to absolutely everyone, much to their chagrin (especially Fugo's). Abbacchio pours salt into Narancia's drink when he isn't looking as a silent form of vengeance. You come into the room and everyone aside from Narancia is grumpy. You're absolutely his first kiss, a fact he takes great pride in. That is, until he wonders if he's your first kiss… then his mood is slightly pampered… for all of ten minutes. Then he's back to beaming, uncaring of anything besides the fact your lips made contact.

Abbacchio

Abbacchio cannot remember the last time his heart pounded this hard — if ever. Still, he doesn't linger in the moment. He may be harsh around the edges, but he still cares for you greatly, the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable. When he parts and sees his purple lipstick smudged onto your pretty, parted lips… it is a divine test of his self-control. That mental image has never left him. He's stuck between not feeling worthy of your affection and wanting to kiss you until the pigment stains your lips a deeper color. It's a dilemma. If he isn't constantly distracting himself, his mind runs off to fantasize.

[rkiveinmarvel]

the trick - kaz brekker. des. angst. shadow and bone (tv) s2 spoilers! kaz brekker saw love as nothing but a mere weakness, a soft edge, an instrument to drown, and then there was you. notes. kaz brekker is bad at love lmao. brief mentions of kaz's trauma (again). pekka rollins (yeah, he has his own warnings). six of crows shenanigans. mentions of hurting, bl##d. jordie rietveld. kaz brekker. enemies-to-lovers-to-idk.

hello, hello! i'm not good at intro lmao. but read it while listening to the night we met by l. huron for more raw emotion??? i remember writing this 3am on monday, so, it might be a lil' messy ;&lt;

wc: 1.4k

The ride back to the slat was painted with the deepest shade of silence, the alarming heart rate of everyone, the tension of everyone’s gaze, the weight on everyone’s shoulder, and the bruise getting settled on Kaz’s face. Jesper looked over at you as he noticed your undying gaze on Kaz. His breath hitched as he whispered.

“He’s okay. Don’t think too much..” You gave a concerned look to Jesper as he gave you a soft smile. The minutes' ride back to the slat was only for a while but for Kaz, it felt like an hour, a decade, it seems like he felt everything, heard everything, and saw everything. He felt the carriage halt as he sensed the familiar noise, as the crows prepared to step down from the carriage, he looked over to your hands and noticed the bruise forming in your knuckles, taking him back to the night when you both met.

----

“Pekka sent me to kill you. You pissed him off after you kept on tailing him, tracking him, watching him. I might say you might be obsessed with him. ” You stated, earning a glare and a concerned look from the sharpshooter and his ‘boss’. As words left your mouth, you felt Kaz’s reserved and fearsome intensity. 

“Then why didn’t you?” Though the question felt a little personal to your liking, Kaz’s tone proves otherwise. You felt as if a crow was watching you, daring you, and judging you. No doubt, Kaz Brekker knew that Pekka Rollins hired you to kill him, the fucking bastard of the barrel knew that, and yet here you are having a fucking drink in his fucking club. 

When Pekka Rollins let you work for him, he forgot one thing and that is checking your background, yes, perhaps he knew how skilled you are in killing, how your step would knock in silence, and how would the knife and guns would bow down in your presence, but what he did know is your past. 

With the last sip of  your drink, you look at Dirtyhand’s eyes, “Jakob Hertzoon..”

Kaz Brekker's eyes widened, he uttered something under his breath and made Jesper leave. 

“I didn’t kill you in any chance I get because… he stole something from me and I guess he also did to you.” Kaz Brekker searches for any misconceptions in your eyes, white lies that will get under his skin, but all he found are eyes that look at him and it seems like they understood him and knew him under all his walls, all his armor. 

“I get what you want from Pekka, you give me what I want..”

“And what is that?” Kaz replied you were taken aback because he was indeed out of character when he replied. You sighed. “...A chance to prove myself.” 

And that’s where all it started, as month dances into years, the withering flame in your heart, starts to fuel and fuel even more, the lingering looks in the slat, the searching for him in every room, the protecting him at any given time, it fueled you. 

It happened to him too.

It made you strong, it made him afraid. It saved you yet it drowned him in his fears.

It was your dream, it is a nightmare that he got himself into. You were the poison and yet he drank it. Pekka Rollins hired you to kill him and Kaz is damn sure that not only you might kill him but also drown him by accepting his deepest fears and secrets, and an emotion that could cloud his judgment.

--

After meeting your bruised and bloody hand he looked at you, a flame burning in his eyes and heart, as he felt it the first six months you talked to him about Pekka’s plan and jobs, he felt it the third night when Jordie’s voice seems too loud to his liking, he knew it the moment he saw colors he hasn’t seen before, he knew it when you stood to stop a bullet for him in Ravka, he knew it the moment he searched for you in every corner of the room he’s into, you flashed him a sad smile while he just stared at you getting out of the carriage, by then he knew, that maybe after tonight, he might lose you.

The slat was once again empty when the crows left it, only the deafening silence was left as well as Kaz’s breathing and your hand that is fidgeting with your left ring. The job was done, everything was at ease, and the barrel belonged to the bastard, so, why are you here?

“We need to talk.” 

Oh, right, Kaz. 

You looked at him, his bruised face was noticeable. He looked at you, your hands are covered in bruises and wounds that is new. He ought to seek the words he wants to say, things that’ll make Jordie’s voice drown in the pit of his conscience, or a word that’ll make you stay forever. But among all the words in the world that entered his mind, it seems like you found the one he need.

“Are you okay, Kaz?” His eyes met yours, and the echoing sound of a candle’s flame drifted into his mind as he saw the distance between you and him, one table apart. 

His office was filled with paintings and trophies he stole from the rooms of every building he find fascinating, and yet the most treasured thing that he do not own was you, that among the most beautiful items scattered in the room would be no equal to the fascination that Kaz gives to you.

A part of him wanted to say everything, every nightmare, every dream, every pain, everything that is about him, but he also wanted you to stay, by him, with him. But the armor he has betrayed every little thing that makes him a human, a man. 

“Don’t. It makes you dull.” Then, you recalled the moments earlier.

“The trick is not to love anything.” His shark eyes met Pekka’s desperate gaze. A little part of you felt brave but the whole part of you was betrayed. You looked at Nina as she heard your heart, and you looked at Jesper as he looked at Kaz. It pained you that when you felt like you were building Kaz, you were breaking him down into something, something you cannot see nor touch.

“Someone you'd sacrifice everything for and it makes you weak.” Then it hit you, Ketterdamn isn’t the place where the string of fate exists, you’d sacrifice everything for Kaz, all of them knew, except for him. Love is a weakness; you learned that the hard way. You fell for the man who you cannot touch, love, or even see. 

You love Kaz Brekker.

“Of course…Kaz, about what you said to Pekka, is it true? The trick?” His gaze lowered, and a sense of guilt woke the soul inside him. As he felt your eyes burning him. He couldn’t fight the right words or the actions he can take, but all he had was his walls and a pair of his broken armor. 

“Silence was never my forte, but please, tell me, those longing stares, those endless nights, those times…was that all the trick?” A shake. A shake in your voice was present. When did you become so emotional, Kaz wondered. He knew the answer because he felt the wave of emotion hit him too, harder that the punch and the bruise. 

“Love is weakness. It makes us weak—”

“I love you…” Then the world was silenced in the wake of your declaration, the sound of the storming sea was silenced in Kaz’s mind, the voices of Jordie were no longer near, and the water in his lungs was replaced by the enticing feeling in his stomach. “Does that make me weak?”

No. That was what he wanted to say, but all he did was to look at you with a shield in his eyes, that moment, he knew, he lost you.

The cold rushed down your head to your feet, you said those words and you read him wrong. Everything was wrong you were wrong. As you met Kaz’s reserved gaze, it took you to the night where you first met him, wishing that you should’ve killed him, perhaps he was right, the trick is not to love anything. 

But the only thing you heard was your footstep leaving the room, the slat, and leaving Kaz Brekker.

“No…It makes me.” He whispered under his breath.

That night, two crows understood something that love is awful, unfair, and unkind. 

That love is indeed and truly a weakness.

hehe. angst. haha, my forte.

⚘ masterlist 1 | 2 | 3

[delopsia]

Ok so in honor of the fact that my mom and I are going to go see Glenn Powell’s bare ass on the big screen today for Christmas.

Imagine when the trio is still dating their schedules randomly align with 2 whole weeks off. Do they take a trip and get like an airbnb or hotel? Or do they go to Robby’s place? Or Readers place? I’m just imagining “we should just buy stock in lube at this point” and the boys walking around completely nude and everyone is covered in marks and just soft fluffy domestic.

Ooo, this is fun! I've missed writing for the trio when they're still in their little long-distance phase 🌷 I'm horribly late, but how was seeing Glenn Powell's ass for Christmas? 👀

Chances are, they're getting an Airbnb or some sort of temporary rental house that doesn't put them at risk of unwitting ears overhearing them and their shenanigans. Rhett's place is an automatic no-go, and Bobby's apartment walls are thin enough for noise to carry next door.

They find themselves up in some cozy little house in the mountains, where the cell service is spotty, and there's no one around for miles.

Robby was the only one who packed any lube, and they had to make a small run into town to restock because they finished it off within the first day. No thanks to Bob himself for overusing it...

Rhett's so confident with walking around completely naked. He'll walk outside and sit on the porch, he truly doesn't care, but Bobby is so shy about it. Preferring to drown himself in one of Rhett's too-big hoodies or flannels, always yanking on the ends of it, trying to keep the curve of his ass from peeking out from under the hem.

It's by no means cold out, but if anyone wants to keep their dignity in public, they're doomed to scarves and long pants that conceal the mottling of lovingly placed bruises and markings.

Rhett's thighs are a patchwork of color, Bob's got a blazing red mark on his neck, someone has marks on the knobs of their spine, and someone else has a lingering trail that appears when the edge of their shirt lifts.

They're such a mess; too many promises made over text to fulfill. Rhett finally sells Bobby on the idea of a Polaroid camera and never lets him forget a single photo. There are new toys to try, some good, some bad, and nobody can keep serious when they try to recreate the ridiculous positions they've found online.

The Reader falls asleep on top of Rhett before they can even begin to ride him; Bobby thinks it's hilarious until he nearly nods off with the cowboy's dick in his mouth.

Rhett starts playing fights with bathroom towels, and Bob wishes he didn't listen to Hangman's horror movie suggestion. There's a full kitchen, and yet the only things they use it for are reheating leftovers, ordering food, and bickering over who has to talk to the delivery guy.

The Reader and Bob hijack Rhett's cowboy hat and make it about halfway across the yard before they're caught.

Bobby learns that there's nothing scarier than a hundred eighty pounds of cowboy barrelling towards you at full speed. It's happened a million and one times, and yet he still squeals when he gets picked up, begging Rhett to put him back on his feet.

🌷

[princess-of-the-corner]

Crossover minecraft: Pirates vs Cowboys

Nighttime in the desert, around a campfire

Roxanne: so, the lightning gave you super speed somehow?

Chargebolt: I guess? I mean, I was more preoccupied with my hat being on fire.

Roxanne: you blew out all the windows in Quickdraw Junction, and obliterated Kevin's wagon... that requires ludicrous speed, kid.

Luz: hmm... maybe... I COULD try making a glyph array for increased speed. I'd probably have to balance the effect with-*trails off, muttering and sketching*

Applejack: uh, before you get too into the zone, talkin' bout magic and superspeed shenanigans... whose takin' first watch?

Chargebolt: eh? We've got like, the mob cap worth of horses and our cows here-

Roxy: still can't believe pinkie got everyone to ride cows.

Chargebolt: - AND, we've still got a few days before pvp enables. There's no reason to worry.

Applejack: *carefully not looking at the cactus that's slowly creeping up on the camp* I think we all know that ain't gonna stop anyone. We've seen bully boy's trickshots, Danny has been making pitfalls everywhere. That monkey kid got pinkie pie with a banana peel!

Pinkie pie: *roasting marshmallows * what was I supposed to do? Not slip on it? It was the perfect setup applejack!

Chargebolt: wait, since when are marshmallows a thing in Mine-

Applejack, Roxy, and Luz: it's Pinkie pie, don't question it.

Applejack: point is, we're sitting ducks in a barrel out here.

Chargebolt: we're in the middle of nowhere. No pirate is going to purposefully come out here for a prank.

Applejack exchanges a look with Luz, eyes flicking towards the Cactus that has been sitting outside the glow of the campfire. Luz starts scribbling in her notepad

Applejack: pinkie your marshmallow caught fire.

Pinkie pie panics, flinging the burning marshmallow into the air

Chargebolt: gah!

Roxanne: watch where you're-!

The burning marshmallow lands behind the Cactus with a splatter, lighting the sneaking player aflame

Jack Spicer: ack! Fire! Help!

Luz: bombs away! *throws glyphed paper airplane*

The glyph plane hits Jack as he fails about, drenching him in water.

Jack: ... I'll just quit while I'm ahead this time...

Roxy: *waiting until Jack has walked out of sight* you're on first watch for tempting fate, sparky...

Chargebolt: ah, come on!

Applejack: all in favor?

Luz and Pinkie: Aye!

Ha!

[sleepytyrtle]

So, I'm thinking about all the scenarios and shenanigans Lunar can get up to, especially with their shapeshifting ability.

When Lunar is in their small form, they run around with the kids in the play structures. They intentionally drive Sun crazy with little sibling energy. Sun nearly tackled Lunar once when they stared him right in the eyes and knocked a tower of barrels over.

Sometimes, Lunar makes settling the kids down for naptime or wrangling them together for snack time difficult by leading the kids to hide in the structures which results in Sun having to chase them all down. Sun has gotten stuck more than once and Moon teases him relentlessly about it everytime.

Lunar and Moon got into a petty sibling argument once so, Lunar convinced all the kids to start calling Moon bald.

Lunar shifts into their bigger form to give kids piggyback rides or let's kids sit on their shoulders as they walk around. In this form they can also call Moon's chord and use it to fly around and cause mischief. Sun nearly had a heart attack the first time he saw Lunar fly past with a giggling child in their arms.

Lunar puts on solo plays for the kids by shifting into the glamrocks and doing silly skits to get the kids to laugh or keep their attention on him as Sun takes a breather. It's a bonus when Sun laughs at Lunar's shenanigans too.

Lunar uses Monty's form a lot and has a game called "Catch the Tail" where the kids try to grab their tail. Sometimes the kids get dragged along, squealing happily as they refuse to let go. The game is only won when Lunar is unable to move with the amount of kids that dogpile them. Monty himself stormed over one night, demanding to know why the kids who visited Gator Golf tried to play "Catch the Tail" with him. Lunar found it hilarious and was only encouraged to continue finding more games in Monty's form when Moon laughed at Monty's angered retelling of the day.

Lunar has learned to shift into the kids that regularly visit. They have a "Mirror Act" with the regulars who enjoy making their copy do ridiculous things. The game is over when Lunar fails to copy the kid.

Lunar uses his creepy, shadowy form to scare kids sometimes when he's bored. The regular kids are used to it and treat it like a game, but there have been complaints from new kids that refuse to come out of hiding after those scares. Sun suffers in older sibling silence when knowing he'll have to deal with the parents and Moon pats Lunar on the head with a proud grin and encouragement to keep scaring the kids.

There was one incident where an angry, drunk father barged into the daycare and tried to sign his daughter out. When Sun said he wasn't on the list, he took the solar themed animatronic by surprise and shoved him aside. Sun yelped as he hit the ground and the father grabbed his child and started to drag her towards the doors despite her cries to let go because he was hurting her. Lunar reacted without thinking. They shifted into their shadowy form and grabbed the father's wrist that was still latched around the girls. They squeezed it until the man released his daughter, cursing from the pain. Lunar didn't say a word as they dragged the father to the doors and tossed him out. Lunar hissed out that he was banned form the daycare and slammed the doors closed. As they turned back to check on Sun and the little girl, the girl had already run up to them and hugged their legs, saying thank you through her tears. Lunar picked her up and held her, seeing Moon had appeared and was checking on Sun. Security dealt with the father and Moon stuck around for the rest of the day to make sure no other parents tried anything. When the girls mother came for her, she thanked Lunar profusely for keeping her daughter safe, giving the know small animatronic a hug of gratitude. The little girl has become a regular and she adores Lunar's scary shadow form!

On bad days, when there are rowdy parents to deal with, Lunar shifts into a small form and runs away to hide in the toy house, their Do Not Disturb barrel blocking the doorway. The angry parents shouts and scoldings remind them of Eclipse sometimes and Sun is more than alright to deal with the parents and let his little brother hide until they feel safe on such days.

Lunar shifted into a mini music man once and scared the shit out of Moon. Sun had laughed so hard his voice box glitched out while Moon shouted curses at Lunar's retreating form.

Lunar has gotten better at charging themselves, but sometimes they forget. There are a few times where they'll be in the middle of playing a game with the kids and suddenly collapse. The first time it ever happened, Sun panicked which resulted in the kids panicking. Moon had to calm down his brother and the kids, assuring them Lunar was fine, just tired. Moon had to drag Lunar to a charging station after that and, when Lunar woke up three hours later, they got the scolding of a lifetime for scaring Sun and Moon. Unfortunately, it still happens and when it does, Sun groans and shouts for Moon who complains as he drags Lunar away. The kids now find it hilarious and giggle the whole time.

Speaking of, Lunar has taken on the cat like qualities of napping wherever they please. Sun and Moon couldn't find them one day and searched everywhere for them, only to find them sleeping in the rafters sometime later. Lunar has also been found sleeping in the following places:

》 On top of Moon's computer

》 Inside Freddy's chest cavity

》 Curled in an empty box

》 Buried in the ball pit

》 Hidden in the go carts

》 Under Sun's and Moon's bed

One time, Lunar snuck into Moon's room and Sun later found them cuddling. Moon woke up to Sun giggling and accidentally threw Lunar off the bed in a panic at not knowing who was touching him. Lunar had woken up confused and Moon apologized profusely as Sun cackled. Sun is not exempt from Lunar's cuddlebug tendencies and Moon has plenty of blackmail pictures to prove it.

Lunar and Monty have a scam business together. Sun and Moon are too concerned to ask for details.

Lunar managed to switch out all the furniture in the plex with bean bags once and nobody knows how they did it.

[atonalginger]

Thinking Back and Looking Forward

Wordcount: 2,874 Sam Coe x oc (a starfarer but not a Dusty) Warnings: drug use mention (from Sam's past).

Sam sighed as he exited the GalBank. Of course Jacob saw this coming; that old bastard wouldn’t let Sam get anywhere without a fight. It meant grabbing Cora, which made Sam madder. He didn’t want to use his girl as bait but how else would be be able to keep Jacob distracted enough to search the house. At least it would be easier with Cora, unlike the shenanigans he used to get into with Jamie and Julien.

He slowly walked to the gazebo in Coe Plaza, giving the old statue a glare from under his brim. It’s where he told Cora to meet him when they were both finished. The gazebo was empty; unusual but understandable given the heist. Give it an hour and people would be back. He sat on his favorite bench, leaving room for near the corner for a person who no longer joined him. A sigh escaped his lips as he leaned back into the railing, he missed her dearly.

It was a stupid fight. Over trivial stuff upon reflection. But to twenty year old Sam, still riding an Aurora high from his last trip to Neon and half drunk, it was important. So much yelling. And the escalation when she demanded he leave until he sobered up. Twenty year old Sam was a damn fool. That was his heart and he threw it away, shouting needless insults to get the upper hand on a pointless mess he created.

Thoughts drifted to good times. The pair sitting on the bench, his arm around her hugging her close while Julien sat across from them, usually telling them about something he saw on his last patrol. The twins had moved the Akila City at eighteen to get away from their family homestead and their controlling parents. The trio were thick as thieves with their common bond of shit parents. Julien joined the Freestar Militia to build up credits and protect the FC systems. He was a top notch combat medic considered a prize by whichever captain got the Fox on their ship. Jamie landed a job working in the Rock up at the bar helping serve drinks and clean.

She never cared that he was a Coe, which he liked. More like she was wary of him in the beginning for being a Coe or so Fox had told him once. Everyone built the Solomon Coe up to be some mythic legend and she was worried he’d be some self important ass. But he wasn’t, he was just a guy suffocating under the weight of his family name. His mind continued to wander to the quiet moments they shared. When they’d sneak off to his dinky ship and fly into orbit for a few hours of privacy. The way her curves fit perfectly in his arms. She was such a welcome distraction from his boring job hauling cargo. And Jacob hated her. Damn that old man, he even ruined daydreaming.

“Dad! Dad!” Cora was barreling toward him with an arm full of new books and a smile to light up the plaza. He came back to reality and looked over as she skid to a stop on the uneven cobblestone, “I need to get on the ship, it’s important! I met the Professor Melody from that book series Barrett got me started on a few years back. You know the one that combined various survey research with old earth historical data?”

“I think I know the series,” Sam lied. She had so many book strewn across the ship he was sure one day one would knock him out during a jump, “Why does this mean you need back on the ship?”

“I told her I’d read her series, which she was surprised because its college level reading, and that I was a big fan of her work and she offered to sign any copies I had with me but all my books are on the ship! I can drop off my new books and grab the best two from her series and run back here. She agreed to meet here at the gazebo!”

He let out a quiet chuckle and slipped her the landing bay keycard, “lock the hatch behind you both in and out, understand?”

“Yes dad, safety first.”

“I’m serious,” he gently held her hand with the keycard between them, “Akila City is safer than more Freestar ports but it’s still rough.”

“I know.”

He let go and smiled at her, “when you get back we can talk about what’s next on the days agenda.”

“Are we going to see Gramps?” Cora’s eyes got big and a new smile bloomed.

“Looks like it.” He tried not to look disappointed. Part of him did love that she and his Dad got along but he didn’t trust the bastard to not manipulate her.

Cora bounced and then took off for the spaceport. He turned and watched her, the City guard hollering at her to be careful and watch where she went. Her father’s daughter indeed.

Sam pulled his notes slate out of his holster pocket and scrolled through the list of books and authors Cora talked about the most. Didn’t take long to find this Professor Melody. Notes included:

-FC native. Born in Akila City, raised deep in Ashta country on a livestock homestead. Gained a love for Earth history due to a gift of ancient books from her aunt. -Holds degrees from FC and UC universities. Gained UC citizenship through her work on her first published work on ancient animal husbandry practices and how to integrate them into modern practices. -a Ph.D in anthropology with a focus on ancient Earth histories. -Cora really likes this book on ancient music. I think she’s told me three times now about how people used to play wooden instruments that worked because they took dried cane and painstaking shaped it into something called a reed and this all sounds like a lot of work for something a computer could do. Suppose they didn’t have computers back then. -Cora wants to go to New Homestead because of something she read in that new book. Thanks Doc Melody, someday soon we’ll go freeze our cheeks off

He sighed at the last note. Forgotten in the sea of things to do and errand to run. He’d have to make time, see if she still wanted to go. He felt a presence near the archway of the gazebo. A familiar presence. He stowed the slate and slowly looked up to see Jamie standing surprised in the archway. Her hair was clipped short and her makeup was subdued but it was her. He’d never forget that face. He stood and took a step before he froze. Why would he have any right to approach her after everything he did and said.

“Sam,” she said softly, almost a question. She blinked away tears and a warm smile formed.

“Jamie,” he choked up for a moment, “I—I’m so sorry. For everything. You deserv—“

“I’m surprised you remembered,” she took a few steps forward, “I remember you being pretty out of it that night.”

“That's…an understatement I think. Also took a few years to piece together a clear memory.”

“You’re doing better?” She asked. She was standing toe to toe with him now, looking up with wet hazel eyes.

“Much better. Had a few more lows to hit before reaching bottom but I’ve been able to clean up my act. Even ran with the Rangers for a time before finally getting to do what I wanted.”

“You’re exploring?” She sounded so happy and it made a tear break from his eyes.

“Yup. Me and my little girl, Cora, explore the Starfield for Constellation.”

Her jaw dropped a moment and then a giggle, “Cora? The bright eyed girl with the bouncy brown hair?”

“That’s her,” he nodded, “must of heard her near Sinclairs? She’s running to grab some books for this professor she’s a fan of. She tears through books like nothing else but that series…I swear she rereads them every few months.”

“Oh?” Jamie looked amused, “she sounds likes like a sweet little bookworm.”

“Oh she is,” he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, “don’t know where she gets it from, neither her mom or me are big readers.”

“Is her mom around?” Jamie looked around, stepping back once.

“No, she’s not. She's married to the Rangers.”

They stood there listening to the usual commotion of Akila City. Laughter at the Hitching Post and guards complaining about the recent rains and puddles. Arguing over who had to clean tables in the Chunks.

“I missed you,” she said, shattering the silence, “I always regretted leaving Akila City the way I did. I knew you weren’t yourself and once you came down we could talk but I was so in my feelings I just ran. It wasn’t fair to you or Fox.”

“After the things I said? The way I acted. I knew you didn’t approve of all the—“

“That weasel of a boss Jacob set you up with was the one that introduced you to that crap. Kept Neon on your route. Sure, you did chose to take it but I know you felt pressured.”

“Maybe I was but that doesn’t excuse what I did. What I said.”

She stepped forward again and placed a hand on his chest, above the turquoise tooth hanging around his neck, “I forgave you a long time ago. It wasn’t instant but the more I replayed those memories the more I knew we could have worked through it and I gave up on you. I’m sorry.”

Sam’s cheeks were now stained with tears. She was sorry? For protecting herself? He placed his hand over hers, “You have nothing to apologize for. Your forgiveness means a lot, even if I don’t think I’ve earned it.”

She leaned in and hugged him, her arms wrapping around him under his leather jacket. He held her close, burying his nose into the nook of her neck. His hat fell to the ground as they squeezed each other tight. They were so lost in the embrace they didn’t hear the pounding footfalls hopping to a stop in the archway.

“Uh, dad?” Cora said. Sam stood tall, both their grips loosening, and saw Cora squatting down to pick up his hat.

“Thanks, gumdrop.” Sam said sheepishly.

Cora stood there, her books in a bag slung over her shoulder and his hat in her hands, with a growing look of shock.

“Everything okay? Cora?” Sam wasn’t sure what to make of this, she wasn’t usually like this. Sure, she saw him hugging Jamie but he’s hugged people before and she’s never gotten weird before. Was it the intensity of the hug? The seeming randomness?

“Professor Melody?” Cora finally managed to say before looking up at Sam with a furrowed glare, “Why didn’t you tell me you knew Dr. Melody?”

“I—“ he looked to Jamie, who had taken a few steps back and out of Cora’s line of fire and was now wearing an ornery grin. “Doctor Melody? I know you and Julien talked about changing your names but…”

“During my graduate studies my mentor introduced me to her daughter who was a talented cyber runner. Her daughter specialized in helping people escape bad families or abusive relationships by permanently altering their Colonies records. I was originally going to take on my mentor’s family name because they’d all but adopted me and it was her husband who came up with Melody. He worried my family might figure out my new name by looking into public uni records but Melody was original and unique. And everyone agreed it suited me. Jamie Melody does exactly roll off the tongue but people don’t usually address me like that anyway so it doesn’t matter.”

Sam smiled, “Clever. And it does suit you. Always had a song on your lips.”

“So you two do know each other!” Cora jabbed a finger at her dad.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen her, Cora,” Sam reached out and teasingly grabbed her finger. She scrunched her nose and held out his hat, which he promptly took and placed back on his head, “and as you just heard, I was not aware of the name change.”

“Alright, I suppose I can let it go,” Cora dramatically said before reaching into her bag, “So I brought my two favorite.”

“I can’t wait to see which ones you picked.” Jamie held out a hand to accept the books.

“It was hard to choose,” Cora handed them over along with a black fine point marker from Sam’s workstation.

“I’m proud of you for narrowing it down. Part of me wondered if you’d try hauling the whole set back,” Sam teased his little girl. As he spoke he watched Jamie look over the books awe.

“This is a first edition,” Jamie looked shocked as she studied one of the pair, “my publisher said they pulled them after we discovered a printing error.”

“Oh that was a gift from Gramps. He gave me that one and the corrected second edition along with a few comics and a book of Akila history. I love going through both editions looking for the differences. All I’ve found are a few diagrams printed sideways and like two missing pages of pictures.”

“Yeah the errors were minor but embarrassing for the publisher,” Jamie laughed. “Let me sit down and I can inscribe these.”

“Always knew you were destined for greatness,” Sam said as she sat down, “Always assumed I was holding you back.”

“You weren’t,” she said softly as she looked up at him, “if anything you helped me fly the coop. I don’t know if I’d ever left this rock without your help. Only wish I’d timed it better.”

He fought back more tears as he felt Cora studying his face. Jamie went to work writing messages in each book. She wrote with a very slow, deliberate hand, which amused him because he knew just how messy her handwriting could get.

“So what’s the plan?” Cora asked.

“The Plan? Sam asked.

“You said we needed to talk about plans for today with visiting Gramps. I figured it had to do with our Constellation business and we both know Gramps isn’t going to like that.”

“Yup,” Sam nodded. It was scary how smart she was.

“What sort of Constellation business would need you talking to…him?” Jamie hesitated, omitting what Sam knew was a more colorful reference to Jacob, “My understanding is Constellation studies star systems, running detailed surveys of planet and moon surfaces and finding scientifically significant discoveries.”

“We are. We’re looking into the story of the Empty Nest.” Cora smiled, “Dad said what we needed was in the bank vault but since we need to see Gramps that means it wasn’t anymore.”

“Is that so?” Jamie seemed to perk up. She leaned in towards both of them and handed back the books, “would this happened to have anything to do with gravitational anomalies?”

“How do you…” Sam started to say.

“Never mind that for now, may I come with for this visit with Ol’ Jacob?” She stood up and smoothed her pants, “in case tag team sweet grandchild frustrating son can’t crack the code?”

“You know gramps too?” Cora asked.

“I do,” Jamie smiled, “we aren’t on great terms but we have an understanding. Plus he owes me a favor. If he won’t listen to you two I can call it in.”

“Jacob Coe owes you a favor?” Sam was in disbelief.

“I found some antiques with Solomon Coe’s name engraved at a consignment shop a few years back. Seller could tell I was a knowledgeable buyer and confessed they figured the pieces were forgeries but even still they were worth a pretty credstick for their condition alone. I knew Jacob had legit equipment with engravings and that the museum was his pet project at the time so I reached out. Asked him to verify the validity of the engraving and if they were real I’d give them to him in exchange for a favor down the line. They were all real, worth FAR more than I paid, and he took the deal.”

“You did that for him?” Sam asked.

“I did it for the museum,” she motioned down the road, “and I did it because having someone like your dad on the hook for a favor is useful in my line of work. Sometimes you can’t grease the squeaky wheels alone.”

“Smart,” Cora nodded sagely, “Dad we should bring the Professor along.”

“Does he know you’re the author of these books?” Sam asked.

“He does,” Jamie nodded, “He’s known about my name change for a while. Once tipped me off to some family chatter one of his connections intercepted. Apparently he had people keeping ears to the ground for any search my parents attempted on me. He didn’t want them to find me anymore than I did.”

“What?” Sam felt a rush of shock and anger. Jacob never told him any of this.

“We can talk about all that later,” Jamie reached out and patted his chest, “for now let’s focus on finding an empty nest.”

[toomuchracket]

baby boy is like elementary school age and somehow sees a pic of 2012/13 matty with the shaved sides haircut and is like you look so cool i wanna look like that!! and mom isn’t home and matty (riding the high of his son saying he’s cool) is like well i don’t see why not…the little guy LOVES it and feels so cool too…and mom comes home to her baby boy in full 24 year old matty attire (skinny jeans, leather jacket, the works) shaved head and all, prancing around like MOM LOOK IM A ROCKSTAR LIKE DAD!! and she’s like WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO OUR SON but really she’s melting bc he’s the spitting image of his dad and she’s like oh we have to show uncle george he’s gonna lose it

HAHAHAHAHA YES ok so he's like 7 (i feel like that was the age where boys started having a say in what they thought looked cool on them lol) and your daughter is 8/9 and they're rifling through some old boxes of photos for some school project while you're at work. your daughter finds some from self titled era and she's like "dad i can't believe that's you", and matty's jokingly like "because i look so young?", to which your son replies "no, dad, it's because you look really cool! like me!"; matty's immediately overcome like "really? you think i'm cool there?", and your daughter kinda shrugs while your son is like "YES the coolest! i wish my hair was like that". and like you said, matty's too busy celebrating the fact he's a kid-certified Cool Dad to think of the ramifications, before he's like "well, we COULD do it now, if you wanted" - as soon as he says "now", your son's face lights up to a level that matty cannot bring himself to dim at all. so yeah, he shaves the sides of his seven year old son's hair off, lowkey getting a ridiculous sense of deja vu to his own hair, while your daughter hovers in the bathroom doorway like "mum's not going to be happyyyyyyyy" (but the boys are too busy giggling and hairstyling to really listen to her). in fairness to matty, he triple checks with your son before he does anything to his hair, and he doesn't give him quite as close a shave as he had himself back in the day. but the effect is still the same; your daughter is adamant she's having no part in the shenanigans, but her eyes flit from the pic of her dad to her little brother right in front of her and she says "yeah, bro, you really do look exactly like dad" and the boys literally cheer lol. and matty's like "oh we need to recreate the full look. do you even have black skinny jeans?", and your son's like "no. but she does!", pointing at his sister, who's like "noooooo you're not using my clothes for this he'll get them all dirty" - matty crouches in front of her and he's like "sweetheart, it'll only be until mum comes in, alright? then we'll wash them and they'll be good as new. and i'll get you a mcdonalds as a thank you", and then she's like " ok :D" lmao.

when you get home, you're greeted by your daughter being like "hi mum, before the boys say anything, just know that i warned them and had no part in it", so naturally you're on alert like "WHAT?"; your question is shortly answered by your son barrelling into the hallway in delight, in his sister's jeans and your old cropped leather jacket and his black vans and, like "mum LOOK i'm just like dad look how cool i look!". you tilt your head and just stare at matty, who's tentatively peering round the living room door, before turning back to your son and smiling at how cute he is like "god you really are your dad's spit, aren't you? but cooler, definitely cooler" - both your kids are like "duh!", which makes you giggle and matty roll his eyes like "thanks, babies, really. tell you what, why don't you go and get a guitar for the full effect?", so the kids run off all excited and leave you and matty alone. matty's over at you immediately, hugging you and kissing all over your face like "hi, princess, my beautiful girl, love of my life", but you're unmoved; you just calmly say "i cannot believe you shaved our seven year old's head, matthew. you're lucky you're both so cute, otherwise i would NOT be happy". and matty just hides his face in your neck like "i know, i know. he just got so excited when he saw the picture and i literally couldn't resist it. s'when he reminds me most of you, when he's like that. and you know i can't say no to you either, sweetheart", and you kiss the side of his head like "you're such a sap" - matty kisses you like "and proud of it", which makes you giggle. and yeah you make out for a little bit (you're married to a dilf and your kids are preoccupied literally what else are you meant to do!), before you're like "oh my god we need to get our boy to facetime george and show him the makeover. he'll freak" and matty's like "YES let's go". and yeah, george DOES freak; he initially reacts to his nephew the exact same way he reacted to matty in the suitcase in atpoaim, then laughs so hard he cries at your son doing an (uncannily accurate) impression of his dad and offers to cut his hair for him if he needs it "cos i used to do matty's when it looked like that", to which you're like "ABSOLUTELY NOT" lmao. yeah, it's funny <3

[alpydk]

Red on You (Part 5) - Knights of Cydonia

Gale x Rugan - ZhentWeave Shenanigans

Going to get some more Gale x Rugan next chapter. Don't worry, I've not forgotten this is their fic after all ^^ (I'm just enjoying writing all this madness, so thanks to anyone along for the ride for dropping in)

Ao3 Link

Rugan’s leg slipped from the drainpipe he’d clung to tightly, the iron clattering against the wall loudly. He hugged his chest to it, his breath caught in his throat as he closed his eyes and hoped that attention had not been drawn to him. His plan had been to reach the roof of the Mighty Manticore Tavern, but the lack of ladders, rusty piping and the horde of undead approaching from the south had left him to find another alternative. He’d since found himself heading further northwest, the coastline coming into view, expensive townhouses of various wizards away for the holiday season covering the horizon.

“At the academy. Avoid the streets. Supposed undead. Unclear of number or cause. I love you.”

Bit fucking late, Rugan thought to himself as the sending spell came wordlessly to him. The rising groan around him had been enough to get him climbing the side of a nearby manor, hands clinging to the pipe, legs aching from the hours of running and crouching without reprise. Should’ve taken the sewers... He peered out of the corner of his eye, a shambling monstrosity of what had been the previous tenant coming into view at the base of the building. A severed leg was dragged behind in the grasp of what was left of the towering merchant, his barrelled stomach open bare and the torn contents hanging down over his gore covered kneecaps. Rugan could smell the stench of putrid, decayed flesh and it took all his self-control not to vomit from the few feet above the ground he had found himself stuck.

Lifeless eyes came into his view, arms held up with the shredded gurgles the creature produced. The sound built and with it, so did the desperation as it tried to reach up and grab the legs it hungered to have. Rugan felt as if his heart had stopped, all time around him now closed on this one pinpoint moment of live or die. His legs scrambled up the pipe, but he felt as if he could not move from the point he’d become trapped in. It was simply him and the growing number of corpses that homed in on his position.

---

“Clear you a path!? You do realise she is over a kilometre away. Even with my spells, it cannot be done.” Gale pulled at the shoulder of Leonidas as he stood at the wall of the academy rooftop, looking for a straightforward way down to reach the woman they had seen panicking.

“Maybe not that far, but the roofs are empty around her. If you can clear around even a hundred feet, then I can make a run for her.” He began to remove the heavy armour he wore, revealing loose dark leather underneath. “I move quickly, I move quietly. I can get to her.”

Gale hesitated a moment. He knew they couldn’t leave an innocent to die when there was even a slither of a chance to save her. “And what of your return?”

“I’ve survived worse. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

He sighed, rubbing a fingertip in a circle on his temples to relieve the headache caused by stress. He looked out over the city before them, the hordes in the streets mostly massing around the courtyard walls. For a moment he was almost thankful for his years of lanceboard, the scene before him like that of a grid, and the creatures, the pieces of the enemy in a strategic formation. “Follow my exact steps. I will place upon you the fly spell. It will give you enough distance to get across to the Flagon Dragon.” Pointing out the tavern across the way, he then gestured to the surrounding undead. “Once there, I will fireball the entire area. It will draw attention to me, but should grant you enough of an opportunity to continue towards our damsel unscathed. I will continue to keep the area as free of danger as possible, awaiting your return.”

“Understood.” Leonidas placed his sword aside, stood on the edge of the stone wall and, with a deep breath, prepared himself for what was to come. “It’s a good thing I enjoy thrill rides.”

“Tibi do pennas.”

With the spell cast, he was in the air, a determined arrow heading to the tavern as instructed. The wind blew through his dirty blonde hair, tears cut the corners of his blue eyes with the speed he moved. As Gale’s second spell erupted in scorching white light, Leonidas felt the heat of the flames below him, the streets now a mixture of charred bodies and burning shopfronts. Hitting the sun-bleached tiles of the Flagon Dragon, he started into a sprint, an alternation of running and flying between rooftops with only the woman ahead in his sights. He would reach her; he would save her. There was no option of losing anyone else in this life.

---

Ilmater…

Andora sighed to herself, her dress torn and stained with blood and dirt from the sewers she had sat in. She’d not moved from the ground for some time after descending the ladder into the darkness, the only source of light from the spell she had cast on a nearby torch, long since burnt. Praying was bringing little comfort, and she’d started to question what purpose her god had in mind for her with all that had happened. The Crying God, one of self-sacrifice, was one she had always unknowingly followed until she had joined the clergy. Whether it be caring for her dying mother or comforting the homeless that she lived amongst, suffering had been her way of living and she’d known when she’d chosen to follow him it had been the right thing to do.  

The sound of her quiet breathing was interrupted by mutterings in the surrounding tunnels. She lifted her head, her eyes peeled for who might be approaching. Shadows flickered on the damp reddened tiles of the walls, a lone figure moving silently towards her location.

“And here I was thinking I was done with rats.”

Standing up, she held herself steady listening to the words as it the voice grew louder. She’d heard the rumours of the Zhentarim in the region from visitors to the temple, injured in suspicious circumstances, but she’d never asked further questions. It wasn’t her place to question the lives of those who needed her help. She held her breath and readied her palm to cast a spell, prepared for if it should it turn out to be a monster having followed her into the depths, or something worse that she knew to flee from. As a pale face emerged into the light, she said the verbal component without thinking, watching the golden flames hit the wall and cast a glow upon the shocked survivor.

“By Gods, is nowhere in this city safe!?”

He was alive, insulted but alive, but his pallor was also that of the priest’s she had left within the scriptorium not so long ago. She kept her palm raised before her. “Are you infected, bitten?”

“Infected?” Running a hand through his white hair, he approached her, little fear in his steps, his red eyes glinting in the white light around them.

She could see the viciousness of his features, the sharp angle of his jaw, the pointed fangs behind open curved lips. His voice was soft, a purr as he grew close to her, placing an icy hand around her outstretched wrist and lowering it. She was captivated by him, the way he moved almost like that of the alley cats she had fed as a child.

“Bitten? Once.” He smirked. “Infected? No.” He released her wrist just as quickly as he had grabbed it, looking her over with interest. “An unusual place to find a cleric.”

His words didn’t fully register as she felt his hand let go of her. “You’re not one of those things then? Haven’t been infected by them?” Andora couldn’t believe he might be like her, a survivor hiding in the underground, hoping that when they emerged again, all would be as it was.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “As healthy as the day I was born.”

It took all her energy not to break down on the cold tiles beneath her, but she could feel her strength wavering with each second that passed. Fatigue had caught up with her. The overwhelming events and adrenaline she had been living off now left her. Her breath caught in her throat, the world span with reckless abandon, and before she knew it, darkness had descended over her in one fell swoop.

Astarion cautiously stepped over the body of the half-elf that now lay limp in front of him. He could hear the quiet beat of her heart and so, with a sigh, sat down next to her, waiting for her to wake again. “Typical clerics...”

---

Darnys’ acting had not gone unnoticed, both from the approaching paladin that leapt across rooftops towards her, and the undead that now pounded on the door to the bedroom below her. Her shrieking had stopped, instead replaced by yells needing actual help as she saw the number of undead on the move.

The distraction had been a little too effective, thought Friol as she climbed the ladder up to join her subordinate, abandoning any attempt at getting the amulet with the movement of the marketplace crowd that had instantly turned on her location. Sunlight burnt her eyes as she emerged from the attic room they’d hidden in, the odour of the undead worse outside than within the sealed tavern. Squinting against the light, she caught her bearings. There was little around them to shelter amongst, but roofs spread before them, east and westward, enough to clamber onto if needed.   

“Weren’t you going to get that necklace? What the hells happened?!” snapped Darnys, her eyes still glued to the approaching figure on the rooftops not far from them.

“Change of plan. We split up and get to it another way.”

She moved quickly, running across the rooftop and searching for a way to the next to get to somewhere safer. “Split up... Hells, why do I ever listen to you? First Rugan, Tibs, now this!”

Crashes and yells could be heard from the lower floors of the tavern, and Friol knew they had little time left. “Look, your job is to listen and do as I say. That amulet is needed-”

“I don’t give a fuck about the job, boss! I just don’t want to die!”

Words were fired out from Friol’s short stature, her command being shown in full for the first time since the events of the docks a year ago. She may have only had one person to order, but it was enough to give her purpose as a leader of the Zhentarim. “Shut it and listen to me! I don’t know what that artefact does, but it was going to be delivered to some wizard at the academy. Powerful dark magic, Manshoon type business. It is the key to this, and we need to separate it from Tibs before it gets anywhere near its destination. Do you understand me?”

Darnys straightened up out of reflex. “Yes, boss.”

“When that paladin gets here, you’re to go with him to the academy. Tell them it’s a magical item causing the problems. Do not, I repeat, do not, tell them of what the item is, especially if the wizards have survived. Use the paladins to get through the crowd and-” A loud smash was heard in the room below them, the undead having broken through the door. “Shit... Just get out of here. You’ll know what to do.”

“And what about you?”

Rolling her shoulders, Friol smiled confidently. “I’ll live to fight another day.” She turned, leaping from the eastern side of the rooftop, falling a few feet before vanishing into the shadows of an enclosure that lay before her.

“But...” Darnys felt lost, orders given but not fully understood in the panic of everything that had happened. She was alone, snarls and moans growing louder under her feet as the room filled with the walking corpses trying to reach her.

“Come on, I’ve got you.”

A leather covered arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her away from where she’d been frozen. Keeping moving was the only option she had as her senses came back to her, as the paladin she had lured pulled her from the rooftop back towards the safety of Blackstaff Academy. Following orders was all she had ever done, and it was what she would keep doing if she wanted to survive.

---

Clearing his throat, Lucius walked the halls of the academy. They lay silent, the horde outside nothing but a distant murmur that did not help him relax. He’d seen his men slain before him; trained soldiers who should have been prepared for every eventuality cut down in minutes. A recruit had raised his sword to find his neck bitten before the blade had then been thrown aside and he’d turned on his brethren. All Lucius could do was order a retreat, watching as they fell one by one. The recruit a snowflake in the avalanche that came to follow. Now he followed that same metal clad recruit down the stone corridors, steel boots echoing with each step, the sight of blood dripping down the paintings something he barely registered.

“Tristan... You’re to return to camp...” His words trailed out before him, but the recruit ignored all his commands. He coughed up a layer of thick saliva from his back of his throat, spitting it to the floor, the taste of copper simply from the blow to his jaw, he reminded himself.

Blood dotted along the floor before him, shadows danced along the walls, the eyes of the paintings watched him, judged him. “Tristan... You can not ignore a superior,” he whispered into the darkness. Reaching his arm forward, silver armour met his palm, cold and smooth against his touch.

A rasped scream was released as the recruit turned to face him, gleaming armour turning to stained rust, shades of brown and red, a mixture of the metal and blood that oozed from dead flesh. Lucius backed up, fear visible in his eyes and heart. “No...” His footing was uneven, his legs unstable, caught in the tarred earth beneath him. Sweat beaded on his brow, his eyes burnt with unshed grief, but before he could shout, he found himself on the floor, reality spinning around him, and the body of Percival lying, throat slit before him.

[cluelessatthispoint]

TF2 fic request:

Some/all the mercs' first pride event

AHHHH!!!

I love this!!!! thank you anon!

~~~~~~~~

The weather outside was perfect. The breeze was light and there was just enough cloud cover to make the sun's harsh rays gently caress all that stood within it. This was the time of year that the mercs got a one-week vacation all to themselves. Tired of the weather in New Mexico, the mercs decided to go to Nevada for the week. The ride there was long and "boring as hell" as Scout put it. They could have taken a private plane but Pyro seemed to like the idea of a road trip better than flying. At least that's what Pyro seemed to say when setting the interior of the plane on fire.

On their first day there, there seemed to be a commotion in the streets and a sense of happiness in the air. People walked by on the sidewalks in all manner of colorful clothing.

"Whoa! Look at that!" Scout's hands flared excitedly in the passenger side of the van.

There were rainbow decorations everywhere. A rainbow balloon archway down the street, colorful signs, and streamers littered the low-hanging branches of trees and the sidewalks. Heavy looked around at the colorful sights before him and flicked on his turning signal. After a while, he pulled into an empty parking space and gestured for everyone to get out of the vehicle. Pyro came barreling out of the van with lightning speed that seemed to rival Scout's. Excited mmmpphs and grunts came from the resident arsonist. Clapping his gloved hands with joy he grabbed Engineer and dragged him down the street toward the crowd of colorfully dressed people. With a shrug and a smile, he let Pyro drag him away while the others stood and watched them go.

"So What do ya reckon this is then?" Sniper looked around at all the colors, slightly distracted and out of his element with so many people he grabbed at his shoulder bag and held it in a tight grip.

"Well Lads, This here is a Pride Event!" Demo's eye glints with happiness.

"Jane and me convinced Heavy to drive the lot of us to Nevada for a Pride Event. Eventually, Pyro found out about it and well, he told Engie. Anyways we all thought that would be a great experience to have together."

Spy eyed the decorations and took a slow drag of his cigarette. The music echoed in the distance. "Well, I suppose that we will call each other if we get lost, correct?

"Aye, good plan." Demo and Soldier walked ahead of the group and scoped out the surroundings looking for where Pyro and Engineer went.

The people around them were talking loudly with each other and had pleasant smiles on their faces. Once in a while Medic would walk over to a group and start talking, then he would walk to another group and then right back next to Heavy. From each group he would take notes and ask questions about what colors mean what specifically, and how pronouns were used.

"Holy Crap guys look over there!"

Scout dragged Sniper to the side of the street and pointed to the front of the parade. There stood Pyro and Engineer. Pyro was covered head to toe with little flags duct taped to his suit. He clapped his hands to the music and moved his body erratically with the music.

Over to side Demo and Jane were watching the shenanigans that their friends were doing. It seemed that they were learning more about life outside of their never-ending war. It was good. With cold glasses of beer resting in their hands, they looked around at the crowd. The sound of the music and the pleasnt buzz of the beer made everything seem even better. It felt good to be themselves outside of work. A warm hand rested on Demo's shoulder. They didn't have to say anything to each other. The look in their eyes did all the talking that they needed. As the mercs left the Pride Event at the end of the long fun-filled day they smiled. They left knowing that the world may not be a great place, but it was a good place. And they couldn't ask for more.

~~~

So, I've never attended a Pride event, I had to dig and do some research and pulled out what I thought would be okay for this short fic. I really hope that I got the "essence" of it correct. :)

[darkened-storm]

Academy Shenanigans

The Beyblade Academy discord server has been running a collaborative project these last few weeks, so I wanted to share some of the content that I’ve written for it.

The story so far: 

Robert and Kiya (@bladerbunny), together with the Blitzkrieg Boys have turned BIOVOLT into a STEM school for gifted beybladers around the world. After securing a large number of students, Kiya decides the first social event should be a BARN DANCE. Things get a little too out of hand when Steph (@darkened-storm) accidentally drinks some spiked punch and decides to prank Robert for being a no show at the party. Dragging Celeste and Ava (@hellovivirose) and Ilma (@let-it-ripperoni) along for the ride, the students get up to mischief and possibly car theft?

Without further ado: 

The plans are set in motion. Steph designates Hilary to keep the rest of the beybladers from getting out of control (Mas has had about a kilo of sugar at this point, and looks as though he’s about to vomit). She warns the All Starz not to cause any permanent damage to property while executing their prank, but otherwise sends them on their way. Daichi and Tyson have wondered off to play detective, muttering something about ghosts, but the girls think they’re just had too much creamy soda (who spiked the punch?) With their reluctant boyfriends in tow, the girls all convene outside Robert’s office. Ava and Celeste are armed with painters tape while Bryan and Matt carry the TP and cling wrap. Ilma returns from the computer lab armed with a USB and Brooklyn trailing behind (he seems to be overly intrigued by the moths attracted to the barn lights). “It’s locked,” Celeste discovers with dismay. “And it’s a smart lock too!” “Looks like we’re going to need more than a hair pin for this one,” Ilma remarks as Kiya rolls up her sleeves. “I can hack that,” she says with confidence, pulling a screwdriver from the inside of her cowboy boot. “Why the heck are you carrying a screwdriver in your shoe?” Ava wonders. “I find it best not to wonder these things,” Becky muttered. “The answers always scare me.” No one knows how, but in about 30 seconds, Kiya has the interface off the door lock and is fiddling with the lock barrel. A resounding click echoes throughout the hall and a second later Kiya tries the handle. The door opens.

“Bingo!” Kiya exclaims. Robert’s office looks like he just packed up half the furniture in his castle and shipped it to Russia. The windows are lined with red velvet curtains and the walls with floor to ceiling bookshelves, similar to a library. Most of the books look old and worn. In the centre of the room is an old, mahogany desk with an iMac perched on top. “Pft,” Kiya mutters. “I can hack that just as easily as the door lock.” With a few quick key strokes, she has the computer unlocked. “Step aside,” Ilma says, brandishing the USB and plugging it in. “Time for some screensaver magic.” “You are pure evil,” her boyfriend says in admiration as he sinks into the leather office chair and begins to revolve slowly and admiring the room. “Right, the rest of us, let’s get to work on redecorating,” Steph declares, reaching for a roll of toilet paper. “I feel like those curtains need an update.” “Hang on a minute,” Matt says almost immediately, dumping the remaining toilet paper rolls on the desk. “Let me help you before you fall down and hurt yourself.” “There’s one in every relationship,” Kiya remarks, watching as Steph drags a chair towards the window and attempts to climb on top of it. “One what?” Bryan wonders. “One who is constantly coming up with outlandish schemes, and one who spends the rest of his life running around after them and hoping they don’t accidentally fall down and land on their own heads,” Kiya responds. “That sounds oddly specific,” Becky remarked grabbing a roll of cling wrap and beginning at one end of the bookcases and starting to cover them. They all set to work and as a team, manage to cover the majority of Robert’s office with a combination of toilet paper and cling wrap. Celeste and Ava find Robert’s blazer hanging on the back of the chair and some post it notes. Gleefully, Ava scribbles “KICK ME” and attaches the post it note to the jacket. “Brooklyn, stop staring at the moose heads,” Ilma can be heard saying as she frantically types at the keyboard. She’s already replaced Robert’s screensaver with a photo of a naked muscular man that she’s photoshopped Robert’s face onto. “Alright, I’m done.” “Wait a sec,” Steph says, abandoning the toilet paper and taking a courageous leap from the chair. Matt, quick as lightning, snatches his girlfriend out of the air (has he been working out over the summer?) and plants her safely on her feet. She nudges the mouse out of Ilma’s hand, screenshots Robert’s desktop and then proceeds to delete all the icons from his screen. Then, she sets the screen capture as the new desktop background. “Oh, he’s going to be scratching his head all morning trying to figure that one out,” Ilma compliments. Before they leave, Celeste hastily grabs one last piece of tape and sticks it the to underside of Robert’s computer mouse. “That ought to do it,” she says, and skips through the door. Becky launches her last remaining roll of toilet paper like a grenade into the room, and is unable to contain a giggle as it bounces off Becky’s cling wrap and unravels itself across the floor. Quick as a flash, Kiya has the smart lock back together and they attempt a quick getaway, only to run headlong into Kai and Tala further along the hallway. “What do we have here?” Tala drawls, looking his girlfriend and her friends up and down suspiciously. “You lot look like …what’s that expression Steph always quotes…?” “Like the cat that swallowed the canary,” Kai supplies in an uncharacteristically helpful manner. “That’s the one,” Tala grins. “Why do you all look like a bunch of cats that swallowed canaries?” “Clowder,” Steph supplies unnecessary. “What?” Brooklyn asks. “A clowder,” Steph repeats. “The collective term for a multitude of cats is a clowder. So to be correct you should ask: Why do we look like a clowder of cats that swallowed a flock of canaries?” Tala’s eyebrow twitches and he holds up a bottle of half full Russian vodka. “Oh fuck it, I’m too drunk for this shit - whatever you’re doing, you better scram before Robert catches you and expels you before term starts - I can’t be arsed with the added paperwork.” The gang scarpers as the sound of helicopter blades rumble overhead, effortlessly lifting Robert’s prize Maybach Exelero onto the rooftop of the auditorium.

[gloriabomfim]

Certainly! Here are the titles, actions, and dialogue transcripts for the first 9 montages in Sarah's comical Wild West adventure:

Montage 1: "Sarah's Rodeo Rampage"

Action: Sarah finds herself in a rodeo arena, mistaking it for a fashion show.

Dialogue: Sarah: (Excited) "Oh my, this must be the fanciest runway I've ever seen!"

Montage 2: "When Sarah Met the Pink Cacti"

Action: Sarah tries to pick flowers but ends up pricking her finger on a cactus.

Dialogue: Sarah: (Wincing in pain) "Ouch! These flowers are really spiky today."

Montage 3: "Girly Saloon Shenanigans"

Action: Sarah walks into a Wild West saloon, thinking it's a beauty parlor.

Dialogue: Bartender: (Confused) "What can I get ya, miss?" Sarah: (Excited) "A manicure and a pink lemonade, please!"

Montage 4: "The Glamorous Gunslinger"

Action: Sarah tries to duel with a pink feather duster, thinking it's a pistol.

Dialogue: Sarah: (Confidently) "Draw, partner!" (Other cowboys burst into laughter)

Montage 5: "Lipstick Bandit Showdown"

Action: Sarah mistakenly joins a bank robbery, thinking it's a lipstick sale.

Dialogue: Bank Robber: (Aggressively) "This is a stick-up!" Sarah: (Happily) "Oh, count me in! I love lipstick!"

Montage 6: "A Fancy Cowgirl's Misadventures"

Action: Sarah attempts to ride a mechanical bull in a frilly dress.

Dialogue: Cowboy: (Chuckling) "You sure about this, miss?" Sarah: (Determined) "Absolutely, darling. Giddy-up!"

Montage 7: "Pink Parasol Duel"

Action: Sarah has a "duel" with another cowboy using pink parasols.

Dialogue: Sarah: (Playfully) "En garde, my dashing adversary!" Cowboy: (Laughs) "Well, this is a first!"

Montage 8: "Hoedown at the Hair Salon"

Action: Sarah joins a Wild West dance, thinking it's a hair salon party.

Dialogue: Sarah: (Dancing) "Oh, I love a good hoedown! Pass me the hairspray!"

Montage 9: "Blushing at the Barrel Race"

Action: Sarah participates in a barrel race with barrels full of makeup.

Dialogue: Announcer: (Excited) "And they're off!" Sarah: (Focused) "I've got my blush and mascara, I'm ready!"

These actions and dialogue transcripts showcase Sarah's hilarious misadventures as she navigates the Wild West with her girly perspective.

Certainly! Here are the titles, actions, and dialogue transcripts for montages 10-19 in Sarah's comical Wild West adventure:

Montage 10: "The Pink Desert Damsel"

Action: Sarah encounters a tumbleweed and tries to decorate it with pink ribbons.

Dialogue: Sarah: (Enthusiastic) "This tumbleweed needs a touch of glamour!"

Montage 11: "Girly Sheriff Sarah"

Action: Sarah becomes the town sheriff, patrolling the streets with a feather duster.

Dialogue: Sarah: (Confident) "No bandit can escape the long arm of… my feather duster!"

Montage 12: "Boot-Scootin' Boogie in Pink"

Action: Sarah leads a line dance, choreographing it with lots of twirls and frills.

Dialogue: Cowgirl: (Laughing) "You sure know how to make a hoedown fancy!" Sarah: (Smiling) "Well, it's all about style, darling!"

Montage 13: "Cute Clothes, Not Cowboys"

Action: Sarah mistakes scarecrows for cowboys and tries to give them fashion advice.

Dialogue: Sarah: (Excitedly) "You boys need a wardrobe makeover!"

Montage 14: "Lassoed by Lipstick"

Action: Sarah attempts to use a lipstick tube as a lasso, with hilarious results.

Dialogue: Cowboy: (Laughing) "That's one way to rope a steer!" Sarah: (Blushing) "Oops, wrong tool!"

Montage 15: "The Glamour of the Gold Rush"

Action: Sarah joins a gold rush, thinking it's a treasure hunt for makeup.

Dialogue: Prospector: (Puzzled) "You lookin' for gold, miss?" Sarah: (Excited) "No, just some sparkly eyeshadow!"

Montage 16: "High Noon in High Heels"

Action: Sarah takes part in a high noon showdown, wearing high heels.

Dialogue: Cowboy: (Impressed) "I've never seen a gunfighter in heels before!" Sarah: (Smiling) "Glamour never takes a break, darling!"

Montage 17: "Rhinestone Rodeo Roundup"

Action: Sarah attempts to bedazzle a rodeo bull with rhinestones.

Dialogue: Cowboy: (Chuckles) "That bull's gonna shine brighter than the sun!" Sarah: (Determined) "It's all about the bling, honey!"

Montage 18: "Braiding and Branding Mix-Up"

Action: Sarah tries to braid a calf's hair, thinking it's a hair salon appointment.

Dialogue: Cowgirl: (Laughing) "That's a calf, not a client!" Sarah: (Sheepish) "Oops, my bad!"

Montage 19: "Pink Pony Express Fiasco"

Action: Sarah joins the Pony Express, delivering love letters instead of mail.

Dialogue: Recipient: (Surprised) "A love letter in the middle of the desert?" Sarah: (Blushing) "Love knows no boundaries!"

These actions and dialogue transcripts continue to highlight Sarah's humorous adventures as she interprets the Wild West through her girly lens.

Certainly! Here are the titles, actions, and dialogue transcripts for montages 20-30 in Sarah's comical Wild West adventure:

Montage 20: "Sarah's Wild West Wardrobe"

Action: Sarah showcases her ever-expanding collection of pink Wild West outfits.

Dialogue: Sarah: (Excited) "Every cowgirl needs options, darlings!"

Montage 21: "Horsin' Around in Heels"

Action: Sarah attempts to ride a horse in high heels, causing chaos at the rodeo.

Dialogue: Rodeo Announcer: (Amused) "And the award for the fanciest rider goes to…" Sarah: (Struggling on the horse) "Oh dear, I should've worn boots!"

Montage 22: "Lipstick Outlaws on the Loose"

Action: Sarah thinks she's found a gang of lipstick bandits but discovers they're just makeup enthusiasts.

Dialogue: Sarah: (Relieved) "Oh, you're not here to steal lipstick, are you?" Outlaw: (Laughing) "Nope, just swapping shades!"

Montage 23: "Girly Gunslingers Gather"

Action: Sarah forms a group of cowgirls for a "fashion showdown."

Dialogue: Sarah: (Leading the group) "Ladies, remember, it's all about the flair!"

Montage 24: "Giddy-Up in a Pink Getup"

Action: Sarah participates in a real horse race but in her signature pink attire.

Dialogue: Race Announcer: (Incredulous) "And there goes Sarah, in her pink galore!"

Montage 25: "Sarah's Saloon Spectacle"

Action: Sarah organizes a Wild West-themed beauty pageant in a saloon.

Dialogue: Sarah: (Announcing) "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for Miss Wild West Glamour!"

Montage 26: "Bows, Arrows, and Baking Powder"

Action: Sarah attempts to use baking powder instead of arrows in archery.

Dialogue: Archer: (Confused) "Baking powder? That's a new one." Sarah: (Grinning) "I believe in a softer approach!"

Montage 27: "Riding the Glamour Trail"

Action: Sarah decorates a horse trail with ribbons, turning it into a glamour trail.

Dialogue: Cowboy: (Chuckling) "Now that's one fancy horse path!"

Montage 28: "Jewelry Heist at High Noon"

Action: Sarah thinks a jewelry store is having a sale and tries to "rob" it.

Dialogue: Store Owner: (Surprised) "Are you here to buy or steal?" Sarah: (Innocently) "Buy, of course! I thought it was a sale."

Montage 29: "The Final Pink Showdown"

Action: Sarah participates in a showdown with a rival cowgirl, both dressed in pink.

Dialogue: Rival Cowgirl: (Competitive) "This town ain't big enough for two pink cowgirls!" Sarah: (Smiling) "Let's make it a glamorous duel!"

Montage 30: "When the Dust Settled… in Pink"

Action: After all the chaos, the Wild West town becomes a bit more colorful.

Dialogue: Townsfolk: (Laughing) "Thanks for the makeover, Sarah!" Sarah: (Proudly) "Anytime, darlings! The West can be stylish too!"

These actions and dialogue transcripts conclude Sarah's comical Wild West adventure, where she adds a touch of glamour and humor to the rugged landscape.

[angelhummel]

I’ve followed you for a while but doing some lurking because yay insomnia, so I just saw @blaintism ‘s ask about season 5 and upon many years of reflection, I’ve grown to like it better than season 4 🙈🙈🙈

I feel like season 4 glee still thought it was at the same level as season 2 or even season 3 glee. Did it have some really good moments?? Of course—The Break Up episode and the “Homeward Bound/Home” mashup were two that immediately came to mind—but overall it felt like it took itself too seriously.

Was season 5 bad in many different ways? Yes but i think since it was announced after The Quarterback that season 6 would be its last, the writers were able to go relatively wild. Like I think they knew it was bad, accepted it, and embraced it. If it were any other show, I don’t think that would work, but this was Glee

lmao see that's another thing about the show in general like most of the fans are like "it's trash but it's MY trash and i love it 🥰" and im the idiot over here like "i dont think its that bad..." 💀💀 like obviously there are bad parts of glee but its hardly ever what people say it is alksfjslkf

and like yeah there are parts of s5 that i hate. like i hate the quarterback, sorry to be controversial. i hate the midsection of the competition and then the 100th episode specials. those blow lmao. but idk i have a lot of fun in the first half and there's some juicy good drama in the second half. s5 to me is a sandwich with really tasty high quality bread and all the fixins but like some really nasty lunch meat in the middle of it lmao. and the quarterback is like. one pickle slice. i dont like pickles and i can pick it off and be fine but itll still leave a bad taste in my mouth

BUT ANYWAY yeah like it truthfully is so hard to like rank the seasons in any meaningful way because they literally all run the gamut of like emmy award winning content to like bottom of the barrel cheap tacky awfulness. hell plenty of individual episodes do that too. its a wild ride but you just gotta buckle up and go for it man

"taking itself too seriously" really does fit the bill tho. like its been a while since i rewatched buuut i feel like its a lot of drama and mess and not a lot of like bright shiny moments?? like glease is good. i do is good. love the ny shenanigans obviously. but idk it overall just feels pretty mid. which is still miles above s3 and 6 alksfjdslkf

[ugh-yoongi]

fic writer asks: 4 (riding fakie) and 5 (threw a punch in a bar)!

mj <3 thank you!

4. What detail in [riding fakie] are you really proud of?

mostly that i finished it on time LMAO. my collab fics always come down to the wire, and i'm pretty sure i posted both rf & love.fm the day they were due. otherwise, i loved namjoon's character. i loved the vmin shenanigans (and i love that people asked about them!). i loved the character development, even if it felt rushed to me.

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [tapiab]? Answer it now!

who the sinister-looking squishmallow was that terrified hobi :( it was barrel :(

questions for fic writers