#quick doodle during my lunch

[blitzy-blitzwing]

Hug. :V

[itsmeaxumii]

quick doodle during my lunch break from work ^^

[auggieblogs]

"As snug as a bug in a rug" | LN4

Lando Norris x Reader Author's note: Hiii, everyone. I hope you all are having a good weekend!!! I am currently sick and very needy, hence, the sick fic. Also, I saw an Instagram reel where the boyfriend made a lunchbox for his girlfriend. Needless to say, I wanted to gouge my eyes (it was so fucking adorable). Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this one. Happy reading!❤️

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

You woke up to the sound of your alarm blaring, a feeling of dread washing over you as you realized you'd overslept for your important math lecture. Your head was throbbing, your throat was sore, and the cold seemed to have settled in your bones. You knew you were in no condition to face a full day of classes, let alone an important lecture.

Frantically, you gathered your books, your nose still a little stuffy, and your eyes slightly teary from the cold. But as you were about to dash out of your room, a sweet aroma caught your attention. Following your nose, you walked into the kitchen to find Lando hard at work.

Lando was standing by the counter, wearing an apron that read "Kiss the Chef," his brows furrowed in concentration as he prepared your lunch. His culinary skills might not be top-notch, but he was determined to make a good lunchbox for you.

He glanced over at you, his face lighting up with a loving smile. "Hey there, sleepyhead," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "I thought I'd make you something to eat since you're not feeling well."

He presented you with a carefully prepared lunchbox. Inside, you found a delightful veggie chicken sandwich, your favourite double chocolate muffin, a peeled orange, freshly cut strawberries, your preferred crisps, and a bottle of apple juice. Lando had thought of everything you liked.

He even managed to draw a little, albeit a bit messy, a doodle of you two holding hands on the note he wrote, "I love you" written underneath.

You rushed into his arms, giving him a tight hug and planting a small, grateful peck on his cheek, being careful not to pass on your cold.

"Thank you, Lando," you whispered, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Lando gently brushed a strand of hair from your face and smiled softly. "You're welcome, love. Now, let's make sure you're feeling better." He handed you some medication and carefully spoon-fed you the cough syrup, making sure you didn't spill a drop.

Afterwards, he helped you into a warm jacket, tucking you in with care. "As snug as a bug in a rug," he said with a wink.

With your lunch packed, your cold medicine taken, and Lando by your side, you felt much better already. He took your hand and led you out the door, making sure you were bundled up warmly before driving you to university. During the car ride, he kept his hand on your thigh, occasionally squeezing it to reassure you.

Once you arrived on campus, Lando walked you to your math lecture, giving you another quick but sweet kiss before parting. "Take it easy and get well soon," he whispered.

You smiled, "I will, thanks to you. I love you, Lan."

[luvring]

I saw "suggestion for cove" i ran here asap. So hear me out hear me out.... In game you only hear about mc and Cove going to school between the steps so i would love to see if you have any headcanon about the two of them hanging school life ( from step 1 age to step 3, you choose what age )

— cove school life hcs

thank you. Thank You. i miss him. like i could just replay the game he's Right There but I Miss Him. i'm saur sorry if any of this doesn't match canon I haven't played in so long. also sorry if my experience doesn't match urs. um. i tried to pick universal experiences

the both of you stay up the night schedules come out to make sure you have classes together. there's quiet celebrations when you match up and groans where you don't

you share anything and everything that happened during your time apart on your way home ! cove has never had your math teacher in his life but from the sheer amount of stories you've shared he hopes he never sets foot in that class

BOOK FAIRS! if you really wanted something he'd offer to help pay for it. he might have gotten one of the cool pens or eraser or something

you're always field trip buddies. you sit on the bus together, you walk around together, it is simply law!

oh my god assemblies where the teachers got seats and the kids didn't. he turns to you and whispers about how unfair it is every year. you agree obviously

THE SCHOOL CHRISTMAS PLAYS ☹️ thinking about little cove singing. help. the songs get stuck in your head after music class so they get stuck in His and

little school valentine's where the both of you get each other the cards/candies they sell. platonic or not—personally i love doing it w friends

god. you know he's going to bee line towards you during group projects. why wouldn't he! he knows how you work, you know how he works, it's perfect like It's Perfect

doodle on his notebook doodle on his notebook do

there's a page where the both of you talk in the back of your notes that's a complete mess but it's lovely

asks you for help on what to say during introductions/ice breaker activities. what he says changes over time of course but he's been using the same base for years atp

school dances might be a bit hectic for him but if you wanted to go he'd definitely try his best . just give him some time and don't pull him into the middle of it all please

depends on if cove was athletic or studious but um. cove protecting you during dodgeball! let's think about this (said by girl who despised every version of dodgeball.)

you know he loved the swimming unit for p.e. like he'd actually be excited to come to school

the Dance unit. every time he'd switch over to being your partner you could see him relax

would Absolutely do the thing where you stand in line in a way so you get put on the same teams. every time the teacher would pull a quick one and you'd be on different teams he'd either sneak onto yours or be very upset.

if the class had an assigned seating chart he'd be very tense walking in before seeing the board. he denies it but you're either going to see him pout or grin at the results so

i don't know how they got to school but If it was a vehicle,, car or bus,, just imagining you dozing off and cove scooting over so you can rest your head on his shoulder ☹️

(the first time he saw you rest against the window he started panicking because of how bumpy the road was and now it's stuck in his mind forever)

walking is still quite lovely though. holding hands on the way to school...please.

you and cove will always wait for each other any day you finish earlier than the other

if you ever forgot your lunch cove is immediately splitting his in half

he'd help you study for your classes even if he wasn't taking them. hand him a quizlet/flashcards/your study guide and you're all set!!

y'know how they'd force you to go outside for recess even if it was cold as shit. i feel like cove tried to hide in the washroom at least Once. he could probably get away with it a few times before getting caught

i think it's up to you what it is but like, having something you do after exams to celebrate and relax. i'm not saying cove uses this as motivation but you know.

and if you ever did particularly bad on one cove would be upset with you because ?? he knows how hard you tried and just wants to cheer you up. always reminds you that you did your best and there's always next time.

gives you a Look when you tell him you stayed up or weren't taking care of yourself. will do everything in his power to help you

depending on what clubs you joined, he'd try to tag along. especially if it was a more chill one and not like, a dance club (😔)

^ though if you were in any kind of performance cove would make sure he could come. smiles to himself when you get on stage like Ok That's Awesome For Me

in my mind if you're dating,, you are The prom couple. even if you aren't voted in, it doesn't take a lot to notice the sea green haired boy and his s/o who he has a soft spot for. come on. there's at least 2 friend groups discussing how you'd win (i have no idea how prom works btw)

you know at the end of elementary + jr. high + high school there'd be those parties or graduation. people, fairly, get upset about leaving their friends. but cove without fail looks at you and is always always grateful for the fact he knows he won't lose you

i don't know the last time i used this taglist If Ever. pls tell me if ur not supposed to be on it omg. | @lordbugs @xfangirl-trashx @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @bakugosgrenade @vhenis

[stitches-02]

BOOP! <3

very quick lil doodle I made during my lunch to celebrate the boop function.

[reedraws]

A quick doodle during lunch turned into an entire cover for my nano project, and then I made a gif about it.

I'm so close to finishing the first draft, which is so incredibly exciting. If I manage to get it fully edited, I'm going to be publishing it online, and I hope y'all like it!

Project info linked here ❃❀✿ Commissions / Ko-Fi / Store✿❀❃  

[sauriansolutions]

Here's a little snippet thing to get myself started at having a blog with, like, content.

I was inspired by the absolute silliness that is the class of TWST item called "Secret Snacks." I just adore the concept that you can boost your friendship with game characters by, apparently, stealthily feeding them illegal snacks during class?

All my (excessive number of) Jade cards have full vignettes *cries* but I just want to keep feeding him forever... help...

"Secret Snacks"

You are sitting next to J.ade in class before lunch. You can hear his stomach growling and whining every few minutes. 

You occasionally catch him frowning down at himself after a particularly egregious rumble, like he's trying to scold his belly into silence. You can't help but let out a quiet giggle at his stern expression, and Jade, realizing he's been perceived, shoots you a sheepish grin.

"So sorry," he mouths, sotto voce.

You reassure him that it's alright. 

Towards the end of class, you notice Jade reaching down to fold one arm around his middle. His stomach's complaints have gotten quieter, but they've also become more frequent, to the point that the gurgles have become a near-constant background noise. 

As you watch, Jade looks up to check the clock for the umpteenth time, then sighs quietly and slumps forward a bit in his chair, lips pressed tightly together in a disappointed pout. You look up, too, and note that here's still about fifteen minutes before lunchtime.

Poor Jade. Since agreeing to switch seats with Leona (who wanted a spot behind the tall student so the professor couldn't see him as well), you've noticed that Jade gets distractingly hungry like this every day, around the same time. 

Jade is usually perfectly attentive and studious during class. But you've heard he also has, what he terms, "poor fuel efficiency. So, you guess that this is around the time his energy reserves from breakfast are nearly depleted. 

His empty, grumbling stomach clearly makes the mer student unhappy and fidgety, shifting in his seat, shuffling papers aimlessly, or doodling in the margins of his notebook. 

You've seen Jade's actual sketchbook, so you know the eel is quite artistically talented. But, humorously enough, as lunchtime draws near, Jade's sketches seem to inevitably devolve from nearly-photorealistic drawings of mushrooms, trees, and plants, to simplistic and almost cartoony renderings of his favorite foods. 

Octopus dishes, you couldn't help but notice, feature prominently. 

You've even caught Jade gnawing on the decorative filigree around the edges of his magestone pen, once or twice. Thankfully, the pens are apparently spelled to be highly durable and shatter-proof. Still, the grinding sound of Jade's razorblade teeth on stone or metal makes you wince every time you hear it. 

Jade, now nearly drooling, is putting the finishing touches on a drawing of what appears to be a steaming plate of grilled octopus. 

... Not for the first time, you find yourself wishing you had something to feed Jade. 

Students technically aren't allowed to bring food into the classroom, but you've seen your fellow classmates covertly munching on candies, meal bars, and the like enough times during class, that you feel like sneaking in a snack or two couldn't be *that* big of a deal. 

Maybe tomorrow, you think, you'll slip Jade one of those packets of barbecue-flavored dried squid that are on sale right now at the Mystery Shop. 

Smiling, you jot down a quick reminder to yourself in your planner. Next to it, you draw a little cartoon eel. You give it a big, toothy smile, and add lots of cute little sparkles in its eyes. 

Satisfied with your work, you close your planner and wait for the bell to ring. 

Classes have been getting increasingly more difficult, as midterms are approaching. 

But now, you think, you have at least one reason to look forward to tomorrow's lesson.

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Sorry, Wrong Comms! : Hunter x Medic!Reader [Chapter 3]

Warnings & Information: Intended audience is 13+ (18 if you squint). Slightly heavier material. Real-life and Star Wars swearing. We're pretending we understand how both real-life and (the regulations of) Star Wars medicine works. Lol what's the layout of the Havoc Marauder anyways? Fuck it, we vibe. ✌️❤️  Injuries as a result of an explosive device during a secret mission. Uh oh, no surgical gloves (for drama, please use gloves whenever possible in real emergencies)! Mentions of blood and blood loss. Lots of medical paraphernalia: needles/autoinjectors, stitches, bacta, etcetera. Near death. Vague description of nausea and non-descriptive mentions of vomit. Loth-cat is out of the bag thanks to Wrecker once our brave Medic!Reader saves the day. Chapter gets happier/light-hearted towards the end as an apology. As a reminder: we really like italics in this house + doing my best not to be overboard with the Mando’a.

Tryin' real hard to avoid certain fanon characterizations of the Batchers. This whole series is absolutely RIFE with my personal headcanons.

Word-count: 7,761

The enjoyable breakfast at the Batchers' was a week ago. Strange how so much and so little can happen all within a week.

Between her decision to get recertified for battlefield medicine at Tech and Echo's encouragement - it would allow her to move through areas of Imperial control with little impediment with her documentation dated before the inevitable regulation tightening that would trickle down to independent medical facilities and practices - and a mission that an "old friend from… before" of the Batch requested their unique skill sets for, the seven friends had not seen or contacted the other in any capacity since that day. 

Once in the morning when [____] had stepped away from the bottom of the short stack of stairs leading from their front door and wished everyone a good day. Twice in the afternoon to first announce she'd passed the earliest available crunch-test for recertification she'd signed up for around the dining table with Echo's help, then a second time to say she'd bought a private medical vessel after going over some specs with the recertification board regarding her own skill sets. She'd need a starship of some sort if she was going to reregister to be an independently-aligned battlefield medic.

One of Omega's newest drawings had been sent home with the medic at the youngster's insistence. A creature she called an Aiwha breaching the waves, and a doodle of Lula in the bottom left corner sitting in a flotation ring on the surface. It now sat taped to the door of the tiny cold unit in the snug kitchenette aboard the medical vessel. The first splashes of organic, cheerful color beyond the sterility of white and the ominosity of red that covered the interior. 

[____] had decided that she'd close her clinic for the day and take the new craft on its maiden flight; get a feel for the controls, get a sense of how to navigate… him? her? … through the endless starfield of the galaxy this morning. Now getting closer to lunch, she'd originally decided she'd have a quick bite to eat, until a harsh screech of her comms sent the spoonful of warm stew across the little kitchenette table in a violent cough. Maker, what a mess. 

"Captain Rex! Rex, come in! Where are you?! Hunter's been hurt, he-! Shit! We have to fall back!" That was Echo. He sounded so scared over the comms channel. What happened to make such a brave and courageous man sound like a scared child calling for his parents like a monster was about to get him? 

She hit the button to answer the comms before she had a solid plan to answer it. "Echo? What's going on? What happened?"

Someone swore before Echo replied, his voice high and tight. "[__-]! Sorry, wrong comms! Disregar-!"

Like kriff she could. It wasn't just her duty to the insignia of the shattered cross, but a desire to jump in hearing a friend needed help. "No-no; what happened, Echo! What happened to Hunter?" 

"He's been hurt, we have to fall back and get him to a medic on-!" 

"I'M a medic, Echo!" she reminded him sharply, poking her head around the corner of the onboard kitchen unit to look out the viewport of her little medical ship. "Get to my ship! I'm gonna send you my position; if I'm reading this correctly you're… actually not too far from me?" 

The screaming… Maker, the screaming. She could hear him just as the ships were properly attached to allow cross-boarding. Pure, primal agony. She had to hurry up the ladder with a heavy medbag. She didn't apologize when she shoulder-checked Wrecker with all her weight when she found her feet again as he yanked her up the last seven rungs by the back of her suit like a damn Loth-cat's kitten, he could take that kind of punishment without being phased. She had to get to Hunter. Rivers of sweat forged wiggling, jagged and forking lines through the grime and soot caking his half-tattooed face. His bandanna was missing. He'd been wrenched out of most of his ruined, ash-black plastoid armor and left in the bloodied tatters of his skin-tight black bodyglove beneath. Where the blood was coming from only the Maker could have known right now. That would be a headache and a half to scrub out of the thin mattress of the med cot, later. "What in the karking hells…" It looked bad. So very bad. Caught too close to a detonation? She'd seen everything from shredded muscle and bone when she had worked at a large-scale healing center ages ago to deep blaster-burn and blood in every color of the rainbow after a cantina fight in the spaceport as of just yesterday, but this… this was something that made her stomach twist so violently in her fear she was sweeping the room for a spare container just in case.

While not a wet behind the ears nurse, she felt that ancient-to-her overwhelming panic and dread to her very marrow. When someone screamed like this, it was just a matter of time before the far more frightening, chilling silence that came before the end. Before the cardiac crash. The flatline. A funeral. Hunter didn't have much time and she just looked like she was hesitating. She was analyzing as she forced down her feelings and stomach with a heavy swallow. What would he need? Sutures, stim packs, maybe all the bacta-gel and every last patch she had… and a damn miracle. 

She needed to send some people out first. Calling out above the clamoring, crying sergeant on the med cot below her, she started giving orders. "Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, you stay here. Echo, take Omega out of the medbay. Get his bunk scrubbed clean as you can. I need as few people in the room as possible. Now." Echo obediently hustled Omega away with a firm grip around her upper arm just under the armpit, forcing himself to become deaf to the protests and tears. (If it came down to it, Echo was not going to be able to perform CPR very effectively; something he and the medic were painfully aware of after a nightmare of Echo's some time ago.) It was an incredible kindness to not make his sister watch Hunter's suffering. It'd haunt the girl to no end if she didn't- no! No, she wouldn't lose him! 

"Wrecker." The hulking Clone snapped to attention, and [____] hated how she was giving her friends orders like this, how she was treating these men like… like soldiers. That's what we are, burc'ya one of them had once said, but it doesn't take away how much she hated it. 

How much she had initially, strangely, hated it when they spoke to her in their own version of Mando'a and the scraps of other languages beyond Basic they picked up during the Clone Wars and their service with the GAR and little phrases from the native tongues of the Force-wielding Jedi. What she would give to hear it now… something other than the sounds of agony. The threat of tears in her voice. 

"I-I need you to hold your brother down while I give him the stim packs, Wrecker. Do not hurt him, h-he probably doesn't k-know-" Her words threatened to shatter unprofessionally before the stiff crack of skin on skin. Not now. She couldn't fucking cry right now. Hunter needed her! Taking a second, she tried again, voice much more level and clear with the encouraging sting of her own palm burning her cheek. "He doesn't know anything beyond his instincts and deepest memories to save himself right now, most likely. He might think we're trying to kill him. Especially me because I won't have my helmet on." She'd actually left her specialty-helmet back in her starcraft. She hadn't yet calibrated the thing and all its sensitive scanners that cost her a pretty credit. 

"What's that got to do with it?" Tech demanded, failing to notice she didn't even have the damn thing. He never liked not knowing what was going on. There was no time to explain as the equipment screens the medic was turning on and had applied the appropriate sensors to Hunter's body signaled he was close to crashing if she didn't act fast. "Just do what I say: put on your helmets. Wrecker, hold him down exactly where I say. Cross, hold these." Prepping the autoinjectors she'd need, she handed several to the marksman, grateful for his long fingers to keep them all secure as she freed her bandage forceps and the trauma shears from the medpack to cut away more of the ruined upper half of the bodyglove. The sour tang of metal and soot would take forever to scrub out of her nails, cursing as she realized she hadn't restocked her gloves. She'd have to get her hands dirty, and the thighs of her pants would have to serve as the blood-rag in this dire situation. Thank the stars she'd washed her hands prior to boarding the Havoc Marauder and curse the Maker for forgetting to restock such a crucial item like gloves. What a rookie mistake!

She pointed Tech into the farthest corner where he could see this delicate dance against death. "Tech: take notes and shut up. Blue: Emptying. Amber: Emptying. Cross, give me the red, then-" Hunter's chest buckled violently in a too-shallow rhythm under her palms, the lip-wrenching that bore his teeth with every harrowed, feral, bellowing call he was making through all this pain was frightening being that-much closer now. The heart-rate monitor screamed in warning: too high, the possible final hill before the plummet. "Red then the gold! That order is very important!" If she got the order wrong, it would kill him. She wouldn't tell Crosshair that. Not until later. Or ever. "Gold: Emptying! Good! Wrecker, hold his legs, Cross, his head. I’m checking for concussion if I can." If Hunter didn't clock her with a wild, frenzied swing. If they held him down entirely, he would only thrash all the more violently and with all the strength he didn't have, pain receptors long since shot and driven beyond overwhelmed. He'd been cursed with enhanced senses he could never take a break from, never mind whatever standard alterations Clones of this late Jango Fett have. "Tech: no concussion. Previously administered meds should be taking hold soon. Prepping a subcutaneous needle with a weaker sedative. Dosage: two hundred twelve, blue. Wrecker: strap his legs and hips down."

"Ti-tight?" the gentle, boyish giant timidly dared ask through the modulator, dark visor meeting the naked eyes of the medic just when Hunter's screams began to slow, but not the struggling. The monitors blipped rapidly for just a short moment, making Wrecker panic in the pause from the medic as she considered. "For now." 

"'Kay. Whu' then?" 

"Go comfort your sister." Wrecker was hitting his breaking point of being a useful, calm assistant to the freshly recertified field medic. He set the restraints with a tight-voiced "I'm sorry, vod." before he ducked out of the medbay, shucking the plastoid bell over his head with a quavering breath. (Omega might soon be comforting him as much as he was meant to be comforting her.) She'd now have to count on the callous but not uncaring marksman and the over-explaining navigator who was taking his silence seriously if reluctantly. "Cross: I need you to mind his arms for me. He's not going to like this." Hunter had now stopped bellowing, all these drugs dropping him in a delicate, subdued state. Nothing like two sedatives and the strongest painkiller she dared use in the cocktail of stim packs she administered, the monitors telling her in entirely-too-many numbers to the untrained eye that Hunter was stabilizing. Vitals are still elevated and too rapid, but falling at an appropriate speed. If they fell too fast…

Taking his position, Cross did as instructed, putting each hand firmly around Hunter's flexing, jerky wrists. "Yes ma'am." 

"I'm sorry, Hunter." [____] offered fruitlessly, finally speaking to him rather than around him all while gingerly blotting a damp rag around a weeping wound to start stitching his largest laceration first to accelerate the closure before the bacta-gel was applied. "Hang in there, okay? I'm sorry for-" she pierced the lip of ragged, bloody flesh without warning him, if Hunter could even tell what she was saying, "-this." she finished. He heaved a guttural, strangled call of pain, instinctively attempting to wrest his hands from Crosshair's grip and shove [____] away before she jumped back out of reach, twisting and turning his legs in vain under the restraints. "...Nfg! St- … guhm!" 

She steeled her resolve quickly and came back to the bedside, eyes flicking to the cardiac reading. High. "I know Hunter: this is not fun for anyone." [____] promised him, treating the stilted, choked gibberish as proper communication while pulling the threaded needle steadily. Maybe it'd help keep him calm. Just keep talking to him, add in directions to the others as needed. "Hunter, Crosshair is going to hold your arms really really still for a little while, okay? I'm going as fast and as carefully as I can to get you stitched up. Is the pain starting to feel less noticeable since the first stim shot?" That should have been recorded as the painkiller if Tech had peeked at the multiple stim pack and autoinjectors she'd simply dropped to the floor haphazardly once dispensed into unmarred patches of skin between abused flesh and muscle underneath the top half of the one-piece blacks she cut from Hunter's battered body to apply the thin gel-padded sensors. There was no response beyond ragged, harsh inhales and shallow exhales. "That's okay, sweetie," she promised as she fastened off the suture, hushing him tenderly as she painted a thick layer of viscous bacta-gel over the stitching with her first two fingers of her opposite hand, "if not, hopefully it will soon. Here, Cross can move his hands up to your left shoulder now and I can stitch this laceration up next. I'll be gentle, as I can be, I promise. Does this hurt?" She palpated the edge of his injury with the pad of her thumb, wondering if he could even make out such a sensation with everything else his nervous system had been assaulted with.

There was a stifled "en" sort of sound beneath the tight brow-bunching, the best could be done to muster up a "no" if one had to guess. "No?" Forced past pale, slightly bluish lips, Hunter tried with further effort. "N-uhh…" He was going to hurt himself if wasn't stopped quickly and gently. Oh Maker he'd really need some blood… dammit she should have gotten that set up to begin with, another kriffing rookie mistake! "Okay-okay; good - I think that's the stim shot working, then! That's what we want. Thank the Maker. Here, let's try something while I'm working on this in the meantime. Can you hold your breath for me?" A breathing exercise. Make the other readings on the monitor slow down, if she could. Better, but still too elevated for her liking. Hunter's chest spasmed with the effort, indicating that wasn't quite possible. "Easy, buddy, easy… Let's try a slow deep breath instead."

"Nu-hu- I-" It was a spasm in his stomach this time, strong enough she feared the stitches were about to tear torn flesh further, before she understood what was making his body react like this. Nausea. Hunter always had a uniquely sensitive stomach but was in no state or opportunity to soldier through the urgent nausea like any ordinary time. She tore at the emergency release latches to the restraint-leashes on his legs and hips, Cross guiding his brother and leader onto his side so Hunter could safely be sick off the side of the med cot without aspirating on the foul substance if he remained on his back.

Tech broke out of his corner and his silence where he'd been banished with his datapad to assist with the mess coating [____]'s new field-boots and the paneled floor of the Marauder's medbay. He sounded almost offended and childish over the mic and modulator of his unique, non-standard bucket. "Kriff! Gross!" 

"Better than the alternative, Tech." the doctor simply chided the pilot, "and nothing any pair of my boots haven't seen before. Just these girls' first time. Crosshair can you grab a hydropack or something? Once he's sure he's in the clear he'll want to rinse the bile out of his mouth." She saw the sniper's throat bob stiffly, once, three times, before speaking in a distant, strained voice to mask the muted retching.

"Sure." Crosshair was all too happy to avoid becoming patient number two if he lingered here much longer when the doctor glanced down at her boots and remarked that she likes the blue travel-ration bars best as well, to no one in particular. 

She stayed aboard the Marauder to monitor Hunter's vitals and had tenderly cleaned the soot and sweat from his face for good measure, musing to herself that Tech was probably messing around with her control panel of her (yet-unnamed) ship in the pretense of optimizing and calibrating your systems to better suit your occupation and skill set right about now while following after them in the hyperspace lane while she was busy with counting each inhale from the man across the medbay within a minute on the timer ticking away. Once the minute elapsed, she'd let Omega come in and see Hunter for herself. [____] noted how her head rung with the first hints of a building headache and the tugging ache in her throat; she'd had her ears uncovered the whole time Hunter had bellowed in horrid pain while she granted his brothers a barrier of comfort and emotional anonymity beneath their painted helms and dark visors, and had no mic to amplify the voice that instructed them how to assist her. But she felt that the unmodulated waves of comfort would mean so much more to him and prove helpful if he could hear a voice unaffected by a helmet crooning comfort to him. 

The minute elapsed. Fourteen breaths. She made a note of it in the log that Tech had been keeping for her and moved to let everyone know that Omega could be summoned now to finally go see her brother. Wrecker was the only one [____] could immediately find outside the medbay. "Hey Wreck, where's Omega? She'll want to know she can finally go see her vod - but he's asleep, I think." 

"Awh, she's either in the gunner's mount, or in Tech's seat in the cockpit now, I think? Crosshair went to take a long wash cycle in the 'fresher, and Echo's still getting Hunter's bunk reset. 'E's gonna be okay, righ'?" 

She looked over her shoulder back into the tiny little medbay on the shuttle, nodding. "He's been stabilized. He'll need to come to my clinic for a full work-up and blood transfusion just to make sure that he really will be fine with proper time and rest." She tore her gaze away, the sight of Hunter's handsome face so slack in his exhaustion making her heart clench. The brute of a Clone with a boyish sense of humor just gave a quiet bark of laughter, arms looping around his chest much tighter without the shells of his various pieces of armor encircling him, stripped down to his black bodyglove at least above-belt. "HAH! Good luck with tha' for the rest of us… but, he'd probably listen to you, kid. Hunter likes you quite a lot… Has a lot of respect for you."

"Oh," [____] mused in agreement, a touched smile breaking free easily, "yeah, he's told me."

Wrecker looked so dumbfounded, sitting forward and arms unlocking in a surprised stupor. "H-he has?" 

"Well yeah; Hunter's expressed his appreciation each and every time I've helped one of you guys, you know that, Wreck." 

He looked more dumbfounded if possible, that mismatched gaze of melt-worthy brown and stark silver-white widening with a realization that his friend didn't know what he was alluding to. "I-I meant two separate things, ad'ika. M'sorry, I forgot a "and", and it- You don't know he likes you?"

It was now [____] who was dumbfounded, the implications just beginning to sink in. "Likes me, wha-? Wrecker hold on; you mean he likes me in the sense that he might love me?"

"If he doesn't, it sure looks that way!" Wrecker boomed, immediately flinching over the volume of his own voice above a breathy, soft volume. "Oops… Oh I hope I didn't wake 'im. I-I-I thought you knew after that night Crosshair suggested that Hunter accidentally hailed you an' then invited you to come over to our place and took care of your injuries an'-" Wrecker stopped and sucked in a hard, short breath just as his voice became loud again, hearing Omega scrambling down to the tiny medbay. "Cross said he'd heard you were… well first he'd believed you'd had, um, y'know, because he heard you moanin' an' all but- i-it wasn't that! I know now that Crosshair was just making a dirty joke, an' I know it was just a massage, but I… I-I-I thought maybe Hunter had finally gotten his nerves and told you." Wrecker was bouncing between the immature nervousness of a child who was afraid to admit knowing what sex was and the grown-up, prideful tones of recounting a coming-of-age tale. Wrecker was not stupid. Wrecker was not naive. 

And Wrecker was so much more. Gentle-hearted but strong and dependable. Kind, tender and guarded when he could have been rough and uncareful of his strength with his enhanced Clone brothers or the 'Regs'. Wrecker could dislocate a Seppy's shoulder or rip apart a clanker with frightening ease and then use that same hand in the next breath to scoop a fallen, injured comrade from the rubble like he once often held his beloved Lula in his sleep. (He once boasted to Crosshair, according to Tech that "Clankers fear me, women want me!" for… some reason back in the days of the Clone Wars. He hadn't been sure what the friendly competition was on that particular mission beyond how many copper-tops they would lay waste to.) These days, he had been loaning Lula to his sister; while Lula was so important to Wrecker, he selflessly shared most of his scant possessions with his family. So it was no surprise to the medic to find Lula swaddled in Omega's arms when she approached brother and friend. "Hey, Omega…" [____] called to the young Kamino-born girl with a maternal tone, "come to see how your vod is doing? He's resting right now, likely asleep, but you're welcome to go see him now if you want." 

"I'm not sure if I…" Omega stalled, 'want to see him in that state' or 'can go in there' was likely what the little girl wanted to tell the medic, but she only crushed the Tooka doll tighter to her chest with a wave of silence falling over her. "He's going to be okay, Omega, I made sure of it." [____] offered a placation of Omega's worries, silencing a beep of her datapad without even removing it from her belt clip or looking at it. "I can't be too far from him anyways, just on the off-chance those drugs I give him don't play so nicely with his stomach again. Why don't you come back to the medbay with me and see for yourself if my stitches are nice and even while I'm taking his pulse?" She held a beckoning hand toward Omega, a silent offer to comfort her and take her to the medbay.

One could have practically seen Wrecker's heart swelling in his chest as he watched his sister step forward with a timid "...okay." and lace her fingers with the medic's, careful not to bite into flesh with her nails in the nervous strength of her hold. "It's okay to be scared, sweetie. I'm right here with you." [____] promised, leading her back. She'd already covered the equipment screens and dimmed more of the lights, just since the sergeant was so heavily sedated it was more of a medical twilight sleep that he had the potential to wake from at any given moment. His sister took up position by his bedside, studying his tattooed face and the bandages she could see poking out from under a light medbay blanket.

"Hunter's…" Omega whispered, noting how deliberate the medic was to move quietly through the medbay. "... sleeping? Can he hear me?" She probably wanted to sit and talk either to [____] while she watched Hunter, or tune out the medic and talk to her brother. Let him know, if he could hear her, that he was going to be okay. They'd be back home soon. They'd be taking him to [____]'s clinic and she would make sure everything was taken care of. And that there was no reason to be scared. Returning the sentiment once said to her. 

Maker and all the stars in the galaxy… these six Clones had a way of warming her heart. "Kind of sleeping. He's pretty sedated so he doesn't tear his stitching. It's okay if you want to talk to him, just mind your voice of course, sweetie." [____] promised Omega, laying a light hand on the girl's shoulder. 

The medic busied herself with cleaning up the data log or padding it out with information for the next half hour while glancing over the sibling pair every few minutes, making sure she kept a proper eye on her emergency patient and the sister when the young girl was quiet for a few minutes every now and then. "... I was scared I was going to lose you, Hunter…" was a soft whimper nearly-missed under the sound of footfall as Echo joined the three of them in the medbay, a modified datapad strapped to the trooper's scomplink. 

(Tech really loved tinkering around with their equipment.)

There was a ping and accompanying message icon on the medic's HUD. Clever man. 

Doing okay, kid?

>Ask me when the cross is off.

Right, bad question. Still on the job. 

Echo offered an apologetic smile over the top of his datapad to her, mouthing something that contained the word habits. 

So… Wrecker told me what happened before he was sent out. Just finished talking to Cross in the cockpit about it, too. Sounds like it was pretty messy.

>It was. But Hunter's going to be fine, Echo.

No sense mincing words when there was a heavy cloud of strong antiseptic aroma hanging in the air. 

>You guys will want to scrub out the cot in here within an inch of its life.

Careful, burc'ya. Tech may take those instructions literally. 

They chuckled softly over his joke together. She didn't doubt his brother's words. Outside of those she studied with in medical school, Tech was probably the most fastidious individual she could think of when it came to maintaining a sterile environment in the best of times. Something they weren't afforded this go-around, but in all honesty Hunter's chances of infection were fairly minimal due to the regular upkeep of sterility in the attack shuttle's small "sick-storage". In the medic's previous experience, that wasn't typically exercised by the usual sort who utilized these ships; but time and time again all six members of this "Bad Batch" proved they were a far cry from usual, she had to remind herself. 

>You'll probably have to air out the Marauder after he's gone through a ridiculous amount of antiseptic wipes and cleaners.

Oh, there's no "probably" about that… That's a guarantee. We'll be lucky if it's just the medbay.

The medic froze before she sent a return message, seeing a hitch in Hunter's throat as he stirred. His sister just took his hand softly, rubbing a circle into the knuckle of his thumb soothingly. "Shhh… That's just [____] and Echo "talking" in the background; all those beeps are their datapads," Omega chimed in softly as there was a second very brief stir from Hunter, "It's okay… you can keep sleeping. Won't be too much longer until we're home, I think…" 

Wrecker's told me something else, by the way. That he let a "particular secret" out in his words.

>Yeah. Wrecker did.

He told me what he told you. Sorry: didn't mean to make that look like I was prying for information. And, sorry if that was rather… surprising to hear.

>It's… certainly something to think about.

The medic laid down the datapad for just a moment and signaled Echo to wait just a moment, lifting the cloth she'd dropped over the bright screen of some equipment to check the vitals it was set to monitor. Pulse-OX, BP, heart rate. All looked about the same as the last time she checked. 

"Entering upper atmo..." Crosshair mused over the PA of the Marauder, breaking the silence of the ship in a voice bordering on boredom, "We'll be there shortly, suggest everyone get ready to leave for the clinic as soon as we land." No, not boredom. Carefully measured impatience as he was fond of saying. This was their vod who took care of everyone at his own expense (monetarily and otherwise), sacrifice, and personal comforts. It had been quite a long time since Hunter had been hurt so severely that he had everyone scared they'd lose him. Perhaps the last time had been during the Clone Wars. No one could really tell her for sure, but they were sure Tech would be able to give her a little too much detail from something in his records, Omega mentioned offhandedly as [____] updated her data log with the current readings from the diagnostic equipment.

"Don't be afraid to tell him to shut up again," Echo offered with a muted smile and choked laugh, now verbally referencing he's heard about the medic's further directives in his absence from Cross's recollection of events, "You know how he'll ramble your ear off at your clinic when he's trying to mask his fear of something. After what's just happened, he'll probably go blue in the face before he stops." 

"Still can't believe 'e actually listened," Wrecker called from outside the medbay, wrestling past Gonky with a wide crate of something in the crook of his arm, "Techie usually talks your ear off when he's nervous at your clinic." 

"I jus-" Echo started, ready to tell Wrecker he'd just told [_____] that same sentiment, but fell silent when a hand touched his shoulder softly, hushing him with a silent 'it's okay, Echo' when Hunter stirred a third time for just a moment. They were entering the atmosphere, mercifully he stayed asleep as the ship trembled and bounced through the transitional zone. "You call him Techie?" 

Wrecker balked, almost dropping the crate. "Awh kriff, don't tell him I called him tha'!" 

"I won't," the woman promised, carefully tucking back a loose lock of her hair, "I just thought it was sweet. You guys really care about one another. We should wake him just before we land since we'll need to find a way to hurry him to my clinic: would you like to do that, Omega?" 

His sister nodded earnestly at the proposed task, anxious to have some part in preparation to land in the shipyards. "I've got this." Omega promised. "Just say when."

They landed in the shipyards at the height of lunch-rush, which made both Tech and the medic nervous. Tech, always prepared, had a map of the city loaded up on the screen, the fastest route highlighted in yellow when he met the others at the ramp to the Marauder. "Oh dear… there's going to be a lot of foot traffic between here and the clini-" 

"I got this." Wrecker growled confidently, giving Omega a wicked grin as he held out his helmet to her. [____] was about to protest, worried that Wrecker carrying Hunter would injure him, and Hunter, half-awake in a rescue carry, shrunk back against Crosshair's chest. But as soon as his helmet was secured with Omega, Wrecker broke off from the Batch and the medic in a dead sprint at a speed that would not seem possible for someone his size to anyone unaware. People shrieked in fright as the demo-expert charged at breakneck speeds. "MOVE IT! MEDIC COMING THROUGH!" 

Maker have mercy on anyone who didn't get out of his way in time… they'd have to go to another clinic if he toppled anyone over. "Oh boy… better follow after him." Echo groaned, knowing that he'd be best to tail after Wrecker and make sure he was going the right way, or apologize to anyone along the way.

"Ah," Tech marveled, taking the rear as everyone else followed behind Wrecker, watching his brothers' blips on the datapad for just a moment. "That's… one way to do it. But why is he going the way that would take us past our housing?" 

"There's a theoretical shortcut Wreck and I have wondered about," Cross muttered, doing a visual sweep for something before walking just slightly ahead of the stoop of their housing, "hmm. Big guy actually did it." He sounded… rather proud of Wrecker's destructive capabilities. A fence across the mouth to a narrow alleyway had been run down, and from Tech's map, it cut across the horseshoe-structured street from their housing to her clinic by a significant amount. The fence's twin at the far end had been trampled, too. "Come on. After you, doc. Tech, why don't you drop off some of our gear at home and meet us there?" 

"Certainly. Omega, come with me." Tech gingerly unclipped one end of the strap holding the Firepuncher against Crosshair's back and carried it out in front of him, afraid to touch it because he was afraid to drop it. That rifle was Cross's pride and joy, his baby, even. But the less weapons they carried into the clinic the better, understanding that the way Wrecker could still be bellowing to alert people to get out of their way, they'd be drawing a lot more additional attention if they went in with a scared medic armed to the teeth. Negative attention. 

Hopefully his brothers wouldn't have broken down the clinic's doors and remembered to use their emergency key card once he got there, Crosshair thought to himself, stepping deftly after the doctor as she hurried up the space between high-rises. Hunter shivered in his arms, shrinking back against the chill in the shadows and into the far more inviting warmth of a brother. "Cr-Crosshair, w-wait…"

"K'uur…" he wrapped the med blanket back over the bare shoulder it slipped free of, "I'll tell them to get you some clean civvies once we've met up with Wreck. Don't worry." Crosshair had just enough time to realize that wasn't only the problem he was worrying about. That tell-tale jerking in the abdomen. Dammit not now. 

"Doc!! Need an emesis bag!"

Tech and Omega met the rest of the Batch at [____]'s clinic, carrying a change of clothing for everyone in a large supply crate, most of it Hunter's in the way of various tops. They weren't sure if they would need to supply something loose or skintight for the task of redressing Hunter. Wrecker was laid on the floor of the waiting room, a too-small cold pack plastered over his head. Echo was massaging each of his cybernetic legs habitually, looking in pain whether it due to phantom limb pains or because he had tripped in his haste tailing after their strongman. Crosshair… he smelled sour, acidic, and looked at them over his shoulder from the farthest corner with a disgusted snarl, daring them to make a remark about it. Tech could guess why; another gastrointestinal mishap. He swiftly shoved Cross's clean mock-civvies into one of the many clear drybags and zipped it closed before it was tossed to their brother who was looking slightly green around the gills himself, as the saying went. "Here." 

The drybag was snatched out of the air in a blink, and the marksman quickly stalked off down a short hallway to the men's for a second shower cycle in the appropriate 'fresher. He froze when [____] poked her head out into the hallway and called him back, saying Hunter wanted to say something but he'd need to step closer as his brother had kind of lost his voice after the last spell of nausea. "S-sorry, Cross…" Hunter offered from one of the private examination rooms nearby, voice soft and hoarse, as Crosshair had doubled back. 

"Don't apologize to me," The initially cold hum of Cross's voice made the doctor flinch, just out of reflex, but had no initial effect on Hunter (at least negatively), "you can't help the side effects… It was merely bad timing." The additional teasing sentiment was enough to finally invite placation, and Crosshair helped Hunter slowly lay back into the mattress of the inclined hospital bed. "Don't be hard on yourself, sarge. Now, behave yourself for the doctor, hm? I'll be back soon to help get you dressed into something once she's gotten all the scans she needs." 

Hunter's eyes flitted over to [____] at the utterance of the word doctor but were immediately returned to Crosshair before it could have been noticed by the distracted medic. She was too busy taking a reading from some of her equipment to have seen the break in eye contact or the way a wave of red swelled notably across the un-inked half of the melanin-rich skin of Hunter's face. "O-okay…" By Kamino's rain, Hunter looked so tired. He couldn't, didn't want to, remember the last time his leader, his brother, had looked so spent quite like this.

"Okay," Cross echoed, softer, tender, "be back soon." he promised once again.

Omega was quick to take Cross's position when he left the room, waiting patiently until Hunter gave her the go-ahead to join him up on the bed, perching herself on the edge and taking one of his hands free of a pulse monitor. 

"Omega-" Tech started sharply, disapproving. 

The ARC tapped the back of the goggled Clone's head sharply, just below where their inhibitor chips once laid, and Tech whined in complaint indignantly. Echo was not going to let Tech spoil the moment. "K'uur, vod." 

The finger that meant he was going to interject shot up, climbing to the ceiling sharply. "But she-"

Wrong move. 

"K'uur, vod! It's. Fine." 

"Th-the equipment? The… tubing for the blood infusion…?" Tech offered feebly, eyes following the thin medical wires that were affixed to and in Hunter. His voice was impossibly timid and small, feeling himself shrink in his posture under the pale, piercing eyes that made one thing clear. Echo was this close to pulling rank or reminding him that in Omega's affectionate use of Mando'a familial terms he was an Ori'vod like do I call him Ori'vod or Ba'vodu Rex? if Tech was not smart and shut up right now. He turned his head and stared pointedly at the wall painted in a cool gray-green with a chalk-base mix (Soothing Sage, he recalled the color being named), trying to mask the unpleasant wave of nervousness he felt when Echo directed his scrutiny and anger at him like this. 

The medic planted a soft hand on the shoulder of each brother, breaking the spell of tension from years of practice. "Omega knows to be careful." 

"Right, of course… I just…" Nails bit a little deeper into the shoulder of the change of clothes Tech had hastily shimmed into, breaking his explanation. 

Just two words to disarm him. "I know." was all that was simply spoken for the time being. She most certainly did. His analytical nature. The black and white thinking. A filter that was both too tight and too loose with his squad and the scant few he dared label a friend. His bad habits… and she had more patience than all 2,000 seats of the Galactic Senate for him all the same. "Can I get you anything, boys? Something to drink?" 

He shrugged stiffly. Echo's shoulder to the residual limb bearing the scomp link bounced up and back in languid fashion, the flexing of the elbow joint so fluid it looked organic. "Do you have any of those bottled teas?" 

"I have one left, as a matter of fact-" [____] started, moving toward the doorway with a nod when Omega asked if she could have one of the cartons of sweet jogan juice.

"Oh."

Just when he was about to mention that water, no ice, would be plenty fine, the medic continued, halting in the doorway. "And since I know it's one you like, it's been sitting in the itty-bitty cold unit in my back office with your name on it."

"O-oh?" 

Indeed it did. In her tidiest handwriting, she had written ECHO in the usually stiff letters of Aurebesh over the glued label on the bottle of tea, the seal freshly broken for him already. There was a unique personality, a feeling to each of the letters - esk, cresh, herf, osk - that tugged a touched smile free of the cybernetically enhanced soldier's surprise while Omega had some help opening the thick, wax coated paper carton of juice. "Thanks, kid… That was incredibly kind of you to save it for me." Those four letters had been written with thought of him, saving a mutually-enjoyed imported beverage for him. A selfless, conscious choice. 

Sands of Tatooine, no wonder she has Hunter's heart. 

"Heh, you're very welcome, Echo," was sweetly spoken, no indication she was at all distracted by all the individual health-puzzles around her. "Now, I should go make a trade with Wrecker before we check how the blood transfusion is going." She grabbed a second, larger snap-activated cold pack for Wrecker and stepped out into the waiting room to swap it for the comically undersized unit she'd first given him. "Doing okay out here, big guy?"

From how close the voices of the medic and the strongman were now, it was clear Wrecker had gotten on his feet and was following her back to the private examination room. "Heh, feeling better now. Don't worry about me… I'll be fine, ad'ika; wha' about Hunter? He okay? What's with all the tubes? Thought he didn't need as many anymore…" With care and caution to keep his voice low, Wrecker squeezed himself into the doorway and craned his neck inquisitively. 

"Two of those tubes are for blood and plasma transfusions; erm, the ones in his arm anyways. The others are all the same as the ones I used on your ship." Wrecker sighed heavily at the word transfusion, thinking for a second he should brace for bad news. A gentle hand found one of his nervously crossed arms and gave it a tender squeeze. He recognized the squeeze. The medic's familiar, comforting it's okay, don't worry squeeze. "I'm just being precautionary, he's going to be okay Wrecker. He is okay. He might be really damn tired once the transfusion is done; so it's really important that he gets some rest once he's home. No. Stims." 

Hunter just chuckled wearily on the exam room bed, giving [____] a soft, promising smile. "Don't worry. Wasn't planning on it to begin with…" Everything hurt too much, he was hardly in any shape to do anything when he knew he'd cheated death. The stitches itched and burned underneath the cold bacta-gel and the barrier of gauze was minimal comfort. The weight of his thick, textured hair was uncomfortable on his brow with the absence of his bandanna holding it back and up. He was thankful, touched, she'd dimmed the overhead lights directly above him and the brightness was set to LOWEST: AMBER on each medical monitor. "...plus there's an acronym Echo's told us about…" he added softly. 

Dee-something-something. Hunter knew the first word was don't but couldn't recall the rest. Crosshair returned from the men's fresher, the acrid odor of bile gone now. 

"Oh yeah?" their friend pressed, a single brow quirked in interest. "What's the acronym?" The galaxy and all her stars, he hoped the monitors wouldn't betray the irregular beat of his heart when she soothingly swept the hair back from his brow and smiled at him while applying a damp rag when he offhandedly mentioned his face feeling warm. The gesture was innocent, just a habit she's picked up with her profession, he reminded himself. She probably did this for every species in the galaxy capable of growing hair. The "intimacy" - the specific variety he was thinking of - of the act was just his imagining… 

"That'd be 'D3M':" Echo supplied before Hunter could give him the brother, help me out here expression. "Don't. Make. Medics. Mad. Learned that pretty quickly as a fresh ARC Trooper. You listen to the medics and do as they tell you; otherwise they can and will go to your commanding officers and share exactly what kind of secret shit you've been up to to get yourself in the medbay this time." It made Omega giggle brightly against Hunter's side and [____] laugh half knowingly and half in surprise. Cross chuckled softly in the corner of the exam room when Omega met his eye, still giggling. 

 "You mean to tell me you weren't quite so straight-laced well before you joined the rowdy rule-breakers of CF99, Echo?" The smile was entirely playful, or at least meant to be. She'd heard the stories of Domino Squad. (She'd heard a select few stories of a Clone with a jokingly self-proclaimed easiest designation to remember ever! of CT 27-5555, the sole-surviving brother named Fives, through stifled tears and hiccups on a few occasions.) She'd been given enough bits and pieces to know what jokes were safe to make. The ARC just gave [____] an impish grin that the other brothers and sister quickly mirrored. 

Rowdy rule-breakers. 

"Heh! Maybe... Maybe not..." Echo chuckled warmly, lacing his arms across a chest puffed in pride. "I'll let you come to your own conclusions about that, kid." 

Every last one of 'em in their own regards. 

Whatever that secret mission of theirs was with this “Captain Rex” that resulted in Hunter’s injuries, one could only hope they’d managed to hurt the Empire far worse than that.

[MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

[sankt-jesper]

Quick drawing of the moss head 🌱

ID under the cut

I stopped reading One Piece in 2010 but thanks to the live action I decided to doodle Zoro during my lunch break, something I didn't know would happen in the year 2023 :) anyway loved the show, an absolute thrill!

Zoro feels very much like a wip but I kind of like the feel of it knowing I didn't have much time! It was fun!

[ID: Fanart of Roronoa Zoro from the One Piece live action show. Low angle from his chest up: Zoro's head is turned to the left, eyes looking up. He's wearing a dark red shirt. /END ID]

[ch0colatec0ff33-art]

Cozy winter :]

These were quick doodles during my lunch but I'm really happy with how they turned out!!

[howlingtides]

Reki comforts Langa on Langa's father's birthday (Langa's POV)

tags: hurt/comfort, grief, processing grief

Langa felt like he'd never really woken up this morning, sitting at his desk in class, eyes heavy. He'd hugged his mother before heading out, held her close and tight and imagined that he was taking away her pain, transferring whatever sadness she was feeling into himself so that he could carry it for her, even if it was just for today.

Reki had been quick to notice Langa's mood as Langa arrived at their usual meetup spot. He'd been late, and Langa was never late, and he'd been quiet, and though Langa was always fairly quiet, it was a different kind of quiet today.

It was Langa's father's birthday.

Reki, of course, had immediately asked what was up, and Langa didn't want to talk about it, at least not right now, so he'd lied and said he hadn't slept well and he had a headache and it really wasn't a lie, actually. He really hadn't slept well and his head did hurt.

It just wasn't the full truth.

Reki only half accepted that, knowing Langa too well to know that there was more to the story, but thankfully, he'd let it go. For now, at least.

They'd skated to school in mostly silence, and Reki offered to take Langa to the school nurse for some ibuprofen, but Langa had refused, said he was fine. Said he'd just take a nap during lunch.

The lines across Reki's forehead grew deeper.

Class was dragging. It felt like they'd been at school for days, and all Langa could think about was how they'd always go snowboarding on his dad's birthday and drink hot chocolate afterwards and how his dad always added way too many marshmallows and his mom would scold him for it but she would smile while she did it. And they would laugh about it and watch some terrible action movie that his dad claimed was a classic and his dad would fall asleep thirty minutes in and he and his mom would be stuck watching it, got sucked into it anyway, always watched it through to the end.

It was small and it was simple, but it was so utterly his dad that he couldn't help but smile to himself at the thought.

And suddenly he wasn't smiling anymore. Suddenly, his chest was tight and his headache grew and it was getting harder to breathe. Suddenly, his vision grew blurry as his eyes began to water and his skin was tingling all over.

Shit, Langa thought. Shit shit shit.

He grabbed at his chest, attempted to take a few deep breaths until one came out as a choked sob, and he quickly covered his mouth.

And then everyone in class was looking at him.

Reki was looking at him.

Fuck.

"Langa?" came the teacher's voice. "Everything alright back there?"

Students began to turn and whisper.

Reki, who had been doodling in his notebook, had gone completely still.

As the teacher began to approach him, Langa shot up, grabbing his backpack. "Not feeling well," he said, keeping his head down. "Going to the nurse."

He didn't wait for the teacher's approval as he strode out of the classroom.

***

Langa didn't go to the nurse. He didn't even go home.

He'd gone to the skatepark.

The wind was whipping through his hair and across his cheeks and against his shirt and it was the only thing that had managed to ground him since he'd broken down. The sound of the wheels, the caress of the breeze. He'd bailed on purpose a few times, the scratch of the pavement beneath his palms a welcome sensation, a reminder that despite his father's absence, he was alive.

Langa was still alive.

He'd been at it for about thirty minutes before Reki showed up.

He skated up to Langa, plopping on the ground next to him in front of the half pipe.

They sat there in silence for a minute until Reki eventually spoke up.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked.

Langa didn't know what he did to deserve someone like Reki in his life.

"Today's my dad's birthday," he said.

It was all the explanation he needed.

"Shit," Reki uttered under his breath. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"

Langa shrugged. "There's nothing to say, really."

"Of course you would say that," Reki said. "Langa. You clearly have a lot to say."

Langa frowned. "I don't think it works like that."

"What do you mean?" Reki pressed.

Langa thought for a moment. "I feel like I can't put my feelings into words."

And it was true. He couldn't. He just knew that he was feeling a lot and it had come out of nowhere. One moment, he'd been composed and quietly reminiscing, and the next moment, he felt like his chest was gonna explode. It was scary and confusing and he wondered if his mom had ever experienced the same thing, thinking about his dad.

He wondered how she was doing at work today.

Hopefully better than him.

Reki nodded slowly to himself, leaning his elbows against his knees. "Well, I'm here," he said, looking over at Langa, "if you feel like you wanna try."

Langa's eyes had only just dried, but they began to feel watery again at Reki's words.

"I," he tried, taking a deep breath as a tear tracked down his cheek. "I just. I can't." Another breath. "I just really miss him." He turned to look at Reki. "I miss him a lot, Reki."

Reki nodded again, listening.

Langa continued. "He was still so young. He still had so much left to give, so much left to teach me. It's just. It's not." Another breath. "It's not fair."

Langa was full on crying now, and Reki didn't waste any time. He pushed himself up onto his knees, pulling Langa into a hug.

Langa shoved his face into Reki's shoulder, grabbed at the back of his hoodie, did his best to remember to keep breathing as he let his emotions carry him. Everything felt so heavy, but Reki's arms were holding some of the weight, and a sliver of relief washed over him as he slowly tried to come back to himself.

Reki rubbed at the back of Langa's head, fingers gently combing through his hair. "What do you usually do," Reki asked quietly, "to celebrate?"

Langa sniffled, keeping his forehead on Reki's shoulder as he spoke to the ground. "We'd. We'd go snowboarding, then. Then drink hot cocoa," he said, "and. And we'd watch a movie. That he picked out."

Reki hummed in approval. "That sounds like a pretty rad birthday."

Langa huffed, pulling away from Reki enough to wipe at his nose. "Yeah," he said, "it was."

Reki put his hands on Langa's shoulders, dipping his head down to look at him. "What do you say then? Wanna celebrate?"

It took Langa a moment to understand what Reki was suggesting. His eyes widened. "Wait. Really?"

"Yeah." Reki said, smiling. "We obviously can't snowboard, but we can skate? Then we can stop by the store to pick up some stuff to make hot cocoa on the way home. Is your mom home? She can join us if she's up to it. And maybe we could all watch a movie?" He put his fingers on his chin in thought. "What kind of movies did he like?"

Langa couldn't believe this. This was. He just.

The weight lifted a little more.

"Bad action movies," he answered.

"Perfect," said Reki. He held out a hand to help Langa up. "I know just the one."

[lunaekalenda]

Oh my gosh I’m literally blushing at that Ren scenario you wrote *o* There’s finally some content for him here yayayay! Thank you for your service XD And now that I’ve read it at least 12 times, its got me wondering… What if Ren was watching us threw our webcam as well? especially during some intimate moments… *///* How would he react?

aaaa hihi thank you so much omg! and that's a pretty interesting request! got a little excited writing m sorry 🥹

♡ minors don't interact ♡ warnings: obssesion, voyeurism, spying, non-consensual filming, solo fun from both sides♡

Hacking a webcam is one of Ren's talents - none of the ones he's gonna show you, of course.- He only needs a pair of clicks, some connection to your network and there he is, a seat on first-row to your room.

You have various bad habits he could even number, being the first one leaving always the webcam on, and the laptop on resting mode. He's not gonna complain, though. If you shutted everything down, he wouldn't be able to see you. And, of course, to enjoy the private show you put for him everyday without knowing it.

Today, he has been watching you on your desk, doing literally nothing for almost half an hour. You've been with your phone - how did you dare not text him first? he'll have to take the first step again.- and doodling something on your notebook before getting up and walking away.

Your dinner time, he knows it. You will appear shortly with a plate with some food on it. Excitement starts to knot on his stomach. He knows what comes next. After your dinner. You will undress, so slowly and so delicate in front of the camera, to take a towel and go showering. It gives him twenty minutes of free imagination of your body in the shower, using that cherry shampoo you always use, and the cinammon gel he was able to smell on you a couple times.

He watches you eating, and even when he wants you to finish the damn plate and already put your ass to the shower, there's something relaxing about seeing you like this. It's almost like an online date, he thinks. He wouldn't mind to have this view every single dinner and lunch of his life. Like right now. Just you two.

The food is gone sooner than he expected, or maybe he was too concentrated on how your lips licked away some sauce on the corners of your mouth. He can't be happier when you come back after leaving the plate on the kitchen again, entering with the t-shirt already lifted. Lifted like his, because that's the best way to find his black pants waistband. He laughs for himself. He feels so lucky to be able to see this.

The proceedment is always the same: t-shirt, pants, bra and panties. It's automatic, both for you to undress and for him to pay attention to the next uncovered part. He gets specially impatient when your hands reaches your back to unbutton the bra, sometimes, with difficulty. He has tried to do and undo a bra he stole from you so many times... He could so easily take it away from your body, even getting a free hand to check how wet you are. What a shame he's not the one there, with you, and just a damn webcam. He would take his time with you, marking and bitting. Sadly, you're so quick undressing that he has no choice more than to please himself with the little he sees, and thinking of you on the bathroom, next door to your bedroom. Do you think about him too? He's curious about that. He would love to know it. Maybe you do.

Your name escapes as little moans from his mouth, even when he's still bitting his t-shirt to keep it away. He has still time to finish, passing pics of you on his phone to keep his imagination more vivid. But water stops suddenly, as his movements do. Just ten minutes? That short? He's used to hear your shower for more time... Why dis you stop so suddenly?

You come back to the room under his lovingly gaze, full of lust and the reflection of the screen on his pale eyes as he observes, water pearls disappearing on your towel, long enough to cover some sensitive parts he would like to see. You sit on the bed, right in front of the webcam, right in front of him.

Taking your phone, you quickly type something. "Hey, I've been busy, sorry." That's the message that pops on his phone. Still with his shirt between his teeth, his hand busy inside of his pants and the other one taking the phone, he gets strangely happy. You sent him a message! He lets the t-shirt fall as he writes quickly an answer with both thumbs.

"No worry, angel. I mean, we all are busy sometimes :3"

You smile at the reply. "Can we go grab a chocolate tomorrow?" his heart races. He sends a single "Sure!" before smiling towards the laptop. He's so happy, oh, godess... He was gonna see you tomorrow in any way, but this is different... You want to see him. No stalking to arrange meetings, no webcams.

You lie on your bed, phone against your chest, smiling, even when he's unable to see more than your crossed legs and the end of your towel. It's a subtle movement, but he notices it, of course he does: you put your phone away as you hand sneaks down, above the towel. There's no way... There's no fucking way he's gonna watch you doing that. It's his lucky day for sure... He gets a date with you and, now, he's gonna watch you in such an intimate moment.

His teeth bite the shirt stronger, as his hand sneaks again on his pants, but this time, to help himself getting more comfortable by putting then down. You unknot the towel, taking it away from your body, and Ren moans with the view. Damn, you just look so amazing for him... So kisseable, so little... He would spend whole hours with your body if you let him, until your voice breaks and you're nothing more than a mess that can't stand by itself. One of your hands dives down your legs as the other stays on your chest.

"Like that, angel." he praises, even when you're not there, and you can't listen him. Little whimpers can be caught by the webcam as Ren gets the most glorious view when you put both legs on the bed, opening them just for him to see. "You're doing so well for me." his voice is deep and full of desire as his hand keeps making wet sounds in fast pace. The fingers of his free hand are quick to enter a command on his computer and, voilá, he's recording it. Would he let an opportunity like this disappear? Of course not. He'll treasure this video, and, of course, use ot for his own enjoyment. He cannot get you -yet, because he will.- but he can daydream about fucking you. His hand lazily imitates the pace of yours, long and slow strokes that make him sigh with pleasure. He puts the volume on his headphones higher. He wants to be able to listen every single moan, whimper and sound of your little fingers. But, instead, he gets something way better.

"R-Ren..."

His eyes open with surprise as he lets a groan escape. He's not gonna last long now that he knows you're thinking about him as well. That you're having such dirty fantasies about him. Do you understand him? Do you understand how bad he needs to pin you down to that bed and make your body remember his?

"Damn, angel... Keep calling me." his voice sounds breathless, as his hand goes faster and faster, keeping an eye on the rythm you're using. He wants you both to finish together. "Say it again..."

It would be the last push he needs. Hear you calling his name again, whimpering, asking him to go faster. Even on his wildest fantasies, he never imagined you would sound so lovely moaning for him and just for him.

Because you're thinking about him.

After some minutes, where your moans get mixed with his whimpers and his strokes go at the same time of your fingers, both of you cum together, your thighs pressed and his hand squeezing painfully good his lenght, as both of you try to calm your breaths. Fuck, he's so horny again just thinking of you...

You both want each other, and Ren's gonna force destiny, quickly putting your number oh his phone and calling.

"H-hey... I was thinking we could watch some films in your apartment... I-If you want!" there it is, the sweet and shy Ren that didn't masturbate to you. The innocent guy that never does nothing. The grin on his face, as his tongue licks his lips, is a clear sign of how his mind is trying to make up an excuse to end between your sheets with him on top of you.

[bluetooththereptile]

Someone asked: How would yandere Batboys(Separate and including Bruce) react to reader drawing silly doodles on their face while sleeping with a pen or something? And maybe even putting makeup and stuff lol

Your man as a hero tends to get exhausted often so it’s not a strange sight to see him sleep on the couch or take a short nap on the bed. But you still want to spend time with him and his sleeping schedule doesn’t let you do that. So you decide to busy yourself with something that would turn into something even more fun…

Dick had fallen asleep on the kitchen table for the 3rd time in the month already and you were tired of watching him sleep, but you knew if you woke him up he wouldn’t sleep much after even if he went to bed as soon as possible. You didn’t want to wake him up but you were bored, your phone was charging and you couldn’t watch TV because of the noises it made. You had to be creative and seeing your makeup bag on the counter made the lamp of ideas pop out of your head.

Dick woke up with a pain in his neck since he had rested his head at an uncomfortable angle. You were sitting next to him with a wide grin on your face “Hi!…” dick said with a sleepy voice as he yawned. You nodded your head now pressing your lips together “Did I fall asleep here again?” You nodded your head faster, now your face seemed strange, like you were in pain, nodding your head violently “Um…you okay?” You gave him a quick “mhm” as he narrowed his eyes at you “Why does my face feel weird?” He rubbed his face and felt something sticky on it. Seeing his eyes widen at the sight of the face foundation you exploded. You laughed for a solid half an hour before you could catch your breath, but the ick just sat there processing what was going on. And when it sunk in his head he did something you didn’t expect “You up for some couple pictures?” And with your agreement, you would take a ton of pictures with dick posing lewdly in them with the messy makeup on.

Jason was sleeping soundly on his bed when you came back home, all excited to tell him about your day, but seeing him sleeping like that was a blow to your expectations, he had promised to wake up before you were back but he was still sleeping like there was no tomorrow. You were mad but you didn’t know how to punish him for that until your new set of markers sparkled as you set your eyes upon them. It was going to be fun. You thought with a mischievous grin.

Jason was up for an hour now and he was still laying in bed, processing his dreams “I think I shouldn’t have eaten those chicken nuggets before sleeping” he mumbled as he left his comfortable bed, walked to the bathroom, heard the TV he could tell you were home and he winced at remembering his promise, okay maybe he had to make it up to you later, for now, he had to wash his sleep away, but his time at the shower was going to turn out as he had expected. “(Y/NNNNNNN!)” Jason’s angry yell made you giggle devilishly as you changed the channels, he must have been really angry at seeing the silly doodles of a unicorn and Easter eggs on his face, but he had learned his lesson about ignoring his promises in the most cringy way!

Tim had fallen asleep during the lunch break, again, and watching him drool with his mouth open was no fun. It was silly to wait for your boyfriend’s nap to end so you could have your lunch before you went back to studying, you wanted to slam the whole lunch tray on his head. But you just groaned and mumbled curses under your breath as an idea popped in your head. “You’ll pay for making me wait, dude, you’ll pay for it!” You mumbled with a smirk as you drew on his face with your pen, remembering what he had said about loving your doodles.

You would ignore Tim’s angry babbling as you gave him a towel, you both had missed your classes since he had forced you to help him wash all of those doodles of hearts and silly texts off of his face “Come oooon!” You nagged “Shut it! It’s all your fault!” You rolled your eyes before bursting at seeing Tim’s blue face. Let’s say you wouldn’t get to kiss him for a while.

After a bad argument, you had decided to pay Damian back by wasting his precious ink on his face. You would move the brush on his face delicately to not wake him up, thickening his brows and painting beard and mustache on his skin. He had just come back from a mission and had fallen asleep in mere seconds. But you were still mad so you gave him the look he always hated.

“(Y/N) if you stop I’ll make it quick and painless!” Damian hissed as he ran after you in the halls with the inky brush in his hand, but you just laughed at that and kept running away “This is what you get for yelling at me baby!” But Damian only growled at your reply running faster. You would end up painted black by Damian and you two would laugh about it whenever you recall the memory.

Laying beside Bruce you sighed, watching as the handsome man’s resting face twitch a little as he dreamed. You tried to not poke his flesh too much as you moved the marker on his face, creating his best quotes as batman in the silliest ways on his face and chest, trying to stop your giggles with soft sighs, trying to not ruin the prank you had planned for your husband.

“Seriously?” Bruce put his hands on his hips as he watched himself in the mirror “I am the night on my forehead?” He posed in front of the mirror making you laugh harder “It looks dramatic…I like it! I look like those gangsters that tattoo everything on their body…it’s easy to remove marker right?” He asked as he looked at you and you shook your head at that making his eyes widen for a good second, but his hand moved to wipe the marks away easily and he sighed before jumping on the bed taking you in his arms “Now you mess with me?” He would say as he tickles you.

[voidwritesstuff]

Long Way To The Truth

Cw:misgendering (accidental).

Summary: Lucas makes it to Colorado and helps a young kid with their identity.

->chapter 4: Colorado.

By Next morning he was already in Colorado, as he has breakfast in a small cafeteria, he thinks back on last night. In hindsight,he feels like he just pulled a Wheeler and acted as the guidance counselor of three 20 Year olds. And it didnt bother him one bit.

For lunch, he stops at a small family owned restaurant. Its really quaint with its ochre colored walls, the plants growing from the pots placed infront of the blue framed Windows.

He steps through the double Doors made of some dark brown wood, and the smell of spicy,home made food greets him. He relaxes a little, Rolling Back one of his shoulders instintctually to then take off his army baseball cap.

As he joins the line,he sees a young kid going out to take the trash that Belongs to the stablishment. They have long dyed purple hair in box braids, tied up by a yellow and white bandana, they drag the heavy trash bag as they walk down one of the back area halls, the door to said Hall is Open which is why Lucas can see the kid.

--Thanks son!--Says a male voice from the kitchen. The kid seems to scowl and mutter something under their breath before resuming their walk.

Lucas orders once its his turn, as he eats hes contempt to watch the news since hes written down his entry of the day during breakfast. The news show how in a few months,a New ship was going to be comissioned by Mayer, the SS Thanatos.

"Kind of an edgy name,isnt it " he thinks,munching down on his chili. The spiciness of it all Burning his tongue,but he doesnt seem to care." Though, its interesting,why would mayer comission a New ship? What are they bringing?".

Hes quick to Scribble down his thoughts on his Journal in a small spot between his Many little doodles he had done during a particular terrible traffic jam on the way here.

--Ive told him so Many fucking times-- he hears the kid from before say-- its not- its not son,goddamnit-- Lucas perks up at the voice,filled with anger and sadness. Theres this look in their eyes of feeling misunderstood.

He watches them walk away and outside the restaurant through that Hall they went down earlier. Theres a slight suspicion in his mind as to what the kids discontent had to do with, bit he knows its none of his business.

"This ain't a song for the broken-hearted

No silent prayer for the faith-departed

I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd

You're gonna hear my voice when I shout it out loud"

As the News didnt show anything interesting after a while, the owner changed the channel to MTV. Where Bon jovi's "its my life" was playing.

Lucas drums along to the rythm of the song as he walks out of the restaurant. He gets approached by the owner of the restaurant,tall,dark skin and warm brown eyes, he looks worried.

--Hey,Sir. Excuse me- have you seen my son? His-their name is Juniper-- he asked,cleaning his sweaty hands on his apron-- about yay high,purple hair?

It takes him a moment to pinpoint the kid as he puts on his army baseball cap-- uh yeah, why?

--Hes been missing and he hasnt been replying to my calls-- he explains-- he seemed a little annoyed and I wanted to ask him where he was

Always the Smart one, the ex soldier nodds-- yeah,saw 'im by the parkin' lot-- he replied ,gesturing to the opposite side of where the kid had actually gone. The Dad runs away in a panic, and he takes that opportunity to go the actual way the kid left.

He knows he shouldnt have lied,but from experience he knew that sometimes parents would make things worse. And it looks like Wheeler rubbed off of on him because hes on his way to adopt yet another child.

Now that the owner wasnt there,nobody paid him any attention as he snuck into the Hall that the kid left through, it leads down an empty sort of backyard. Theres a small half broken concrete wall that seemed to be the wall that acted as a barrier to a previous,smaller, Back yard and the outside world.

Through the cracks and missing chunks of the wall,he can spot a set of purple hair blowing in the passing breeze. He sighs inwardly and tries to channel Wheeler as he leans on the Fallen wall and says.

--Yer dad's lookin' for ya

The kid gets startled, throwing a small pebble sized Chunk of Fallen wall towards him. He barely ducks out of the way and adds-- nice aim

--Who are you and what do you want?--The kid asks, pressing their knees against their chest. Their locks fall to cover half of their face since the bandana is no longer restricting them.

--'m the guy who told yer dad to go the other way so he didnt piss you off further

The kid looks at him and then looks away, growling-- good. I wouldve ripped his face off.

--Can I at least ask whats pissin' you off before I leave you alone? You look like yer either gonna hurl a piece of debrie at yer old Man or break down cryin'

--You wouldnt get it-- they reply,looking away

--kid, you'd be surprised at the ammount of shit ive seen. Try me

The kid sighs loudly and gets ready to throw another pebble sized chunk. But its not at Lucas, he throws it at a nearby tree stumpt And misses it by an INCH.

--So...so i dont really feel like a boy,or- or a girl-- they start, grabbing another pebble-- I asked my folks recently if they could use well- gender neutral words for me- but they Keep forgetting, especially my dad

"It's my life, it's now or never

I ain't gonna live forever

I just want to live while I'm alive"

God,how loud was the TV? He could hear it all the way from here.

Lucas nodds,folding his arms over his chest-- n 'm guessing thats what pissed you off?

They nodd-- its not that hard-- They followed up-- and it hurts when they dont do it- I call 'em ma and pa but they cant use the words I like?

--I get that kiddo-- he replied,looking at the tree stumpt,littered with previous atrempts of hitting it. His eyes narrow as he calculates the distance between them and the stumpt.-- parents can take a while to accept New things 'bout their kids

--How would you know?--his companion asked, throwing the pebble and missing,again,by an inch.

--well,kid-- the ex soldier grabs a pebble and throws it at the stumpt, hitting it dead in the middle--im Bisexual,and a soldier with PTSD,from a family of soldiers who also had....issues . So I'd get it

When the kid sees Lucas hit the stumpt,they look up at him and ask-- HOW DID YOU DO THAT?

he chuckled-- permission to approach?

--Uh,permission granted--They followed along with the joke,a small excited smile.

Lucas sits with them and grabs another pebble,handing it over. Now up close he can see that their eyes are puffy and a little red,and he softens his gaze-- keep your pulse steady-- he starts,showing them how to fix their aim.

His companion tries again and they hit the stumpt dead in the centre. They look all happy and they smile wide.

--Yknow,your old Man worried about you. Even corrected himself when he messed up your pronouns. -- the ex soldier added as the kid tried again.

--did...did he?--They ask,Setting down the pebble.

--Yup, do you go by juniper?

They nodd enthusiastically-- he even remembered my name?

--Yeah

Juniper smiled and stood up, all happy and with a Pep in their step. Lucas noticed the bon jovi black shirt and raised an eyebrow internally. They tie their yellow and white bandana around their purple hair and dust off their black shirt, they flap their hands a little.

--'m gonna talk to him-- they said,walking past Lucas.

--Hey kid, just one thing. Tell yer dad that it makes you feel bad when he doesnt use the right words. Otherwise he wouldntve known I think, but also know that not all parents Will understand New things

The kid puts their hands inside their pockets-- and what If he doesnt understand?

--Well...-- he trails off and points to the air,as if hes pointing at the music hanging on the breeze.

"It's my life

My heart is like the open highway

Like Frankie said I did it my way

I just wanna live while I'm alive

It's my life"

--I dont like the idea of my dad not understanding though-- Juniper adds, looking a little concerned. Their eyes go to the entrance of the Hall that they came out of.

--i understand but ive realized that well, if it makes you happy then its worth it. Parents be damned-- Lucas stands up,holding Back a wince as his back stings a little. But he manages and leans on the wall-- hell,im drivin' all the way from Florida to Washington

--Why would you do that?--his companion asked-- thats kinda weird --Theres a brief silence and they add-- right,because it makes you happy

--'m tellin' you this cuz when I was your age,I wouldve liked to know that i dont--he makes a pause,hands going to the dogtags around his neck-- that I dont need other peoples approval to be enough.

Juniper nodds,to then perk up as they hear their dad calling out for them-- thanks -- they reply, glancing Back at the ex soldier-- hey by the way,if you go all around over there-- he points at to where Lucas' Back is facing-- youll come out the other way. Just so my dad doesnt think anything weird if he sees you with me

He nodds-- ten four,much obliged-- he tips the visor of his cap like a cowboy would, making the kid laugh at his slight weirdness before leaving for the restaurant.

Lucas goes back to his van through the way the kid told him, and just as he hops into his vehicle, through the outside mirror he sees Juniper and their dad talking. The kid seems dead serious as they talk to their old Man,who nodds and gives them a big hug.

--There we go,happy thoughts kid-- he mutters,seeing a little of his past in the way the father and the kid hug things out. Whenever he would get into dumb arguments with Wheeler,they'd talk it out and hug it out.

He clears his throat,Trying to not get sappy this early in the day,and so he continued his merry way through Colorado.

Switching the radio on, he hears.

"This is for the ones who stood their ground

It's for Tommy and Gina who never backed down

Tomorrow's getting harder, make no mistake

Luck, it ain't enough, you've got to make your own breaks"

But as he drives he notices something in the rearview mirror,a black SUV following along a few cars away. He squints and decides to take an alternative Route he had mapped for ocassions like this.

Thankfully,he does lose them and by nightfall, he stays on a small inconspicuous motel on the outskirts of the state of Utah. Keeping an eye out on his van and resting in between watches

[queens-nightmare]

Doodles during my lunch break, and also quick screenshot to explain the thought process for the upper one, lol

[cao-the-dreamer]

Quick doodle I made during my lunch break! I'm quite happy with how it turned out :D

Ehi @greypetrel it's soft bonding time! I thought Aisling would enjoy brushing Sotos' hair ;) if my boy had a tail it would be happily thumping on the ground hehe

(The cloth around his waist is a back brace! His lower body was crushed by an ogre after fleeing Lothering; since then he needs a brace and a cane to walk, otherwise it's too painful.)