#having an existential crisis in the tags like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr is used by 21% of adults online aged 18-29 years.

#having an existential crisis in the tags like

j3llyd0nut · 19 hours

Text

Playground Love

ೀ older!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, age gap (unspecified but reader is an adult), a lot of self doubt, talks about mommy and daddy issues, pet names (angel, princess, sweetheart).

W/C: 1.0k

A/N: studying? who is that? Anyways, this was supposed to be a cute ‘sitting on his lap would fix me’ but I got hit by existential crisis at 2am so angst.

"Wow, dating an older guy? That's so sophisticated!"

“Are you sure about this? Don’t you think there’s a reason why no one his age is dating him?”

"You get to date someone older? That's not fair! All I get are immature guys my age."

"Darling, I know you're an adult now, but dating someone significantly older... it just worries me. Are you sure you're on the same page?"

I love him.

At every reaction, you find yourself repeating the same phrase in your mind. It was a simple truth that anchored you amidst the swirl of opinions and doubts. Every concern, every envy—you faced them all with the same unwavering declaration.

But do you really love him?

The question lingered like a shadow, casting doubt on the certainty you had clung to so desperately. You couldn't shake the nagging feeling that perhaps you were merely caught up in the allure of dating someone older, mistaking infatuation for love. Or was it that you longed for attention from an older guy who could fill the void your absent father left?

You craved the paternal presence you had been denied, and in him, you found echoes of the guidance and affection you had longed for.

"Dating someone older? Isn't that a bit... strange?"

"Why? Age is just a number, right?"

"Yeah, but... do you really think you're at the same stage in life?"

Oh, how naively optimistic you were.

Perhaps you have been too quick to dismiss your loved one’s concerns, too eager to embrace the illusion of love in the arms of someone—his arms—who offered the fleeting promise of stability and security.

“But he makes me feel loved and safe,”

“Does he?”

Was your love truly built to withstand the test of time, or was it merely a fleeting illusion, destined to crumble beneath the weight of your differences?

“Darling, can we talk for a moment?”

“Sure, Ma. What’s on your mind?”

"Well, I couldn't help but notice... you seem quite taken with this new guy you're seeing."

"Oh, you mean Leon? Yeah, we've been spending some time together."

"He's... older, isn't he?"

"Um, yeah, he is."

"I see... darling, I just want to make sure you're being careful. Dating someone older can bring its own set of challenges."

"I know, Ma. But he's different. He understands me in a way no one else does."

"I'm sure he does, dear…but promise me you'll take things slow and really get to know him before things get too serious."

"I promise, Mama.”

You've broken many promises with your mama, but why did this one hurt? Is it because you partially blame her for shaping you the way you are? Is it because she married your father? Maybe she would have lived a happier life if it weren't for him, if only.

But you thanked her, both her and him, for the lesson learned, for the wisdom imparted, for the love that had always been there, and for helping you recognise the kind of partner to avoid.

You stood before the polished wooden door of Leon’s home office, your hand hovering in uncertainty over the ornate doorknob. Each second felt like an eternity as you battled with the torrent of doubts and fears that raged within you.

You needed him, wanted him to hold you, and tell you that everything would be fine.

But what if he couldn’t understand your doubts? What if your confession shattered the fragile illusion of your love?

With a steady breath, you pushed aside your apprehensions and grasped the doorknob, steeling yourself for the conversation that lay ahead.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” His voice, gruff yet soft and reassuring, always managed to send shivers down your spine, freezing you in place. You couldn’t find the words to speak, and your throat suddenly dried.

Sensing your hesitation, he beckoned you closer with a gentle smile. You could see the experiences he went through, the complexities of adulthood etched into the lines that creased his weathered face.

“Come here, angel. Sit on my lap while I work.”

You obeyed, crossing the threshold into his office, your feet padding on the wooden floor as you made your way to him. Settling onto his lap, your linen dress pooled around you, the fabric soft against your skin. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you close, his rough touch sent warmth flooding through your veins.

You inhaled his scent, a mixture of citrus and wood, with a hint of something familiar: whisky. You thought he quit. Ready to question him, you opened your mouth, but he stopped you before you could question him.

“Don’t worry your pretty head, princess. I only drank a glass, I promised. I’m just a bit stressed.”

“Mm, okay,” you replied, pushing aside your concerns for the moment as you melted into the warmth of his embrace.

You found solace in the familiar embrace of Leon's arms, the weight of your doubts momentarily forgotten as you leaned into his chest, burying your face against him. A few of his buttons were undone, allowing the soft hairs on his chest to brush against your face.

"Is everything alright, angel?" Leon's voice, soft and concerned, pulled you back to the present moment.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just want to stay like this, with you," you murmured, the words slipping out before you could second-guess yourself.

His arms tightened around you, drawing you closer, as if he could sense the hesitation in your voice. "Me too, princess. Me too," his stubble pricked your forehead as he murmured against them.

Oh, how weak you were. His voice and touch alone melted you into a puddle, and all your problems seemed to vanish in his embrace. Your mama wouldn’t be happy with how you turned out; she wished that you would never let a man make you weak like she was.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to sink deeper into his embrace, letting go of the weight of your doubts and worries. In this moment, all that mattered was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.

Perhaps one day, when the time was right, you would find the courage to open up to him about your inner struggles. Until then, you cherished this moment, clawing in the warmth of his love.

Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, Leon whispered softly, "I love you, angel.”

“I love you, too, Leon, always,” you replied. The words were a vow of unwavering devotion and love…was it really?

All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does, and that is his.

- Oscar Wilde

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil 6 leon #death island leon #infinite darkness leon #damnation leon #vendetta leon #dividers by fairytopea #✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

143 notes · View notes

emblazons · 10 months

Text

It’s “realizing that Will’s struggle in S2 with being infected with a virus that spreads and will kill him quickly (but doctors don’t care) is a metaphor for how gay men were treated during the aids crisis” hours

—right alongside Mike (who comes from a family with a Reagan sign in their front yard + a mom who outwardly supported Margret Thatcher), who sat at his now confirmed gay best friend’s side the entire time he was sick and watched as people were willing to let him die because he was viewed as expendable……and now has an ongoing storyline where

1) his relationship with his girlfriend is falling apart because he doesn’t love her romantically

2) he’s staring longingly and pushing toward the freedom his gay best friend embodies for him, and

3) he cannot bring himself to tell anyone around him something because “what if they don’t like it” + dehumanize him for telling the secret truth he cannot bring himself to externalize, despite now knowing something that scares him about about himself:

(Bonus points for the fact that the first time we see Mike push Will and himself toward a girl is after he watches how people were willing to let his gay best friend (and him, by extension) die should they not confirm to expectations)

#can you tell I am rewatching S2? lmao but!!#he’s gay. he’s gay. HE IS IN THE CLOSET AND TERRIFIED AND FUCKING. GAY #this is not about his feelings for El and never had been #it’s about his DEEP AND UNRELENTING FEAR that he is going to be seen as less than human and potentially killed for his honesty #THE REFUSAL TO TELL THE TRUTH IS A PROTECTION MECHANISM #ROOTED IN WHAT HES SEEN & EXPERIENCED & KNOWS ABOUT HIMSELF AS A GAY MAN #like this boy is having an extended metaphorical existential crisis over being gay. that is the point #it always HAS been. but the depth and context for his struggle requires complex sociological knowledge & people don’t do that anymore lmao #ANYWAY #I’m gonna do a whole proper post on this I promise. I just had to get the thought out somewhere lmao #mike wheeler core #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #the me tag #gay mike wheeler

593 notes · View notes

brother-emperors · 3 months

Text

for enjoyers of rome and comics:

Les Aigles de Rome (The Eagles of Rome) by Enrico Marini is set in first century CE Rome and it’s a fucking visual and narrative delight. It’s like taking a bite of a delicious meal, the story arc and interpersonal character drama combined with the density of life in the backgrounds makes each page a fantastic time.

Dead Romans by Fred Kennedy & Nick Marinkovich. Also set in the early Roman Empire! My feelings for this one are a little more complicated, but it there’s a sort of Hollywood movie appeal to the plot, and the illustrative work of the comic is stunning, a visual feast for the eyes and worth checking out for that alone.

Cléopâtre, la reine fatale by Thierry Gloris & Joël Mouclier. Dramatic spectacle, drama, delicious visuals, and I'm kind of obsessed with the visual tone of it. The character interactions and snapshot glimpses into the interlocking relationships everyone has are honestly a high point for me with this one.

#i meant to do this like. oof. last year. anyway! comics. behold. there you go #mark antony in the cleopatra comic is fun. brutus is having an existential crisis and antony's like cool. i could blow you if you'd like #rec tag #book club tag #i may or may not lock this post from reblogs so if i do. the tag is book club tag for recs. as a future reference

159 notes · View notes

nandermoenthusiast · 8 months

Text

i dont think i will ever be over nandor tying guillermos cape with such care and focus. that moment its possibly my favourite from the finale NANDOR ACTS OF SERVICE GUY MAKES ME WANNA CLIMB A WALL and the way hes putting guillermo on equal ground now makes my heart grow 3 sizes

and to be honest i dont think they can go back to where they were before. for anyone whos worried. like yeah he told him “now clean up the body” after he reverted back to human but to me that was more like nandors brain going like. “i cooked now you clean”. he went through such a tremendous amount of work to help guillermo. he had the empathy to recognise the problem. he thought it through concocted a plan. he got the robes and the candles and he painted and hung those banners. he held a fakeass ceremony with all their friends and elders so it looked official. he then also comforted guillermo when he couldnt do it and staked derek himself without a second thought. so maybe its was more of a. i pulled you out of a very hairy situation. can you take care of the body now? (also it IS gonna be hard to let go of certain habits so maybe some comments like this are gonna slip out next season, but that is just because they are useless and in guillermos absence the house fucking imploded in one year lmao… maybe guillermo is gonna teach them how to take care of it themselves next season so they can split the workload and cute shenanigans will ensue)

i just dont think it was mean spirited on nandors part tbh. LAZLO even offered to help. i dont think that was just to have him in the next scene i dont think an unusual detail like that could be just for convenience. i do FULLY believe they are gonna all be on equal grounds next season. and thats gonna be so fucking delicious to me specifically

#to see a nandor and guillermo dynamic where nandor has freed himself from the inibitions of a master familiar dynamic? sign me up #he was so fucking warm and caring after he forgave him and idk if i can handle it GOD I LOVE IT #nandermo #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #wwdits spoilers #comment #im making a post out of some of my tags in one of my queued posts bc i #want to put this thought out in the world #i saw a lot of people going now that guillermos human everythings back to the status quo!!! and im like #no the fuck i hope not!! their relationship has consistently moved in a new direction each season #familiar. bodyguard. best man. best friend. now they went through allllll the trouble of showing them having an equals relationship #they made nandor utter the words he will be living in this house as an equal from now on #and next season everythings gonna revert back?? i surely hope not #there is also to be considered from nandors standpoint that now guillermo truly has no more reason to stay. he really isnt a #familiar anymore because he presumably doesnt want to be a vampire anymore (?) so he has to consider #if he wants guillermo to stick around. its gonna have to be out of the love he has for them. and nandor needs to give him an incentive #which would be equal grounds with the vampires even though he isnt one #and guillermo is probably gonna be in such an existential crisis mode that hes not even gonna notice all the cute things nandor is doing #for him now for a WHILE. until he does and thats gonna be delicious #anyway. why do i keep making excellent points in the tags this could have been a post

81 notes · View notes

purgetrooperfox · 2 years

Text

exhaustion

rating: T

summary: Fox has been running on fumes for days, counting down the time until he can drop onto the nearest horizontal surface and finally sleep.

characters: Commander Fox, Commander Thorn, Sheev Palpatine, Clone Medic Nocte, background characters

warnings: Palpatine being a bitch, mild language, referenced drug dependence

tags: sleep deprivation, canon-typical mistreatment of the clones, flawed coping mechanisms, way too much caffeine, slice of life (unfortunately)

edit: happy belated birthday to this fic apparently

Ten more hours.

Three more meetings.

One more shift.

Counting down the time remaining until he can collapse onto his bunk - or more realistically, onto his couch - doesn’t help Fox stay alert, but it does give him a light at the end of this tunnel of exhaustion. He’s in a security meeting with Thorn and a handful of the Senate Guard, and all he can think about is getting out and inhaling another thermos of caf. Nocte would have a fit.

Inhaling sharply, Fox narrowly manages to snap awake before he falls asleep on his feet. At his side, Thorn shifts just enough to brush their pauldrons against each other. It’s well-intended, but Fox’s balance isn’t what it should be.

He sways.

The Senate Guard captain notices. Finally. Fox had been concerned by his utter lack of situational awareness. “Are you well, Commander Fox?”

Still, he would rather not have to bullshit an answer. “Of course,” he says. “I’m waiting for the point of this conversation. We’re all aware of the potential ramifications of a leak in your division, and there are contingency plans in place for that very eventuality. My Guard is prepared to implement those plans. Is that what you’re asking of us? Is there some problem in the Senate Guard that would prevent your compliance with established security regulations?”

Thorn tenses. Fox doesn’t. He’s too tired, and he has enough of a reputation to talk down to lower ranking officers. Sometimes. As a treat. And he’s right. This entire meeting could have been dealt with via holo-message.

The captain doesn’t sputter, impressing Fox for the first time since this meeting began. “As I said, the Senate Guard is dealing with a staffing shortage—”

“And you want to supplement your ranks with my men?” Fox interrupts, well aware that he’s treading a fine line, but honestly. “Subcontracting is banned for clone troopers, per GAR Regulation 300.251.34.”

“Does this count as subcontracting?”

Fox’s eye flutters in the privacy of his bucket. “Yes. Per GAR Regulation 300.351.35, clone troopers are prohibited from seeking employment outside of their assigned battalions unless expressly reassigned by a commanding officer or the Supreme Chancellor. That includes unpaid employment and contract work.”

Now, the captain’s expression settles into a glare. Fox wishes he could remember this one’s name, but who can tell nat-born officers apart, anyway. “Then I can—”

“Before you attempt to give that order,” Fox says drily, careful not to yawn, “allow me to remind you that you are not part of my chain of command, and that as Rear Mashal Commander, I would outrank you if I was. Is there anything within the confines of the law that I can do for you, Captain?”

“Evidently not, Commander,” he snaps. Fortunately, this particular officer doesn’t have the pull to make a case to the Chancellor about this meeting. Nothing inspires like fear of ratting oneself out.

Rolling his shoulders, Fox shifts out of parade rest and swears he can hear his joints creak with the motion. “Then we can call this meeting adjourned. Best of luck populating your ranks, Captain. Don’t hesitate to contact me if your leak is not resolved within twelve hours.”

He should wait for the Senate Guards to leave before following suit, but he’s tired and irritated and under-caffeinated. So he goes first with Thorn on his heels.

Three more meetings.

Thorn is practically vibrating in his boots by the time they get to the mess. Fox makes a beeline for the caf machine and thanks all the gods that it’s working today, spitting unappealing sludge into his thermos.

“You’re going to either get yourself decommissioned or give yourself a heart attack,” Thorn informs him when he slides into the seat across from Fox at a table, all but slamming his tray down. “You look like shit. When was the last time you ate? How many of those have you had today?”

Fox shakes his head minutely and regrets it immediately when the motion sends the room around him into a tailspin. “I ate this morning.” He takes a gulp of his drink, ignoring the way it burns. “I need to stay awake and Nocte won’t give me stims anymore. So. Caf it is. Quit worrying.”

“Quit worrying,” Thorn mutters, clearly intending to keep worrying. “The crash will be as bad as the sleep-deprivation itself. Don’t say no one warned you.”

Unfortunately, Thorn isn’t wrong. Fortunately, Thorn’s shift is ending so he won’t be around to keep reminding him.

Nine hours and change.

Stone tentatively offers to trade his rotation in the Senate Dome for Fox’s next meeting. It’s clear that he doesn’t want to offer at all, but Fox can’t quite resist the temptation of being able to lean against a wall instead of standing upright. The CSF commanders aren't terrible, relatively speaking, so he doesn’t feel too guilty sending Stone in his place.

The Senate is debating pumping more money into the Republic war machine. Palpatine is in favor, so the debate itself is mostly about optics. Let the dissenters think they have a voice. Fox doesn’t know much about politics, but he’d figured that democracies would be less rigged than this.

(That’s not strictly true, he thinks, he probably knows more about politics than most civilians. And most of the GAR. And some politicians, for that matter. Proximity goes a long way.)

Crossing his arms and leaning into a back corner of the Dome, Fox lets his mind wander.

Nine more hours.

His vision swims if he’s not careful to blink the fog away. The caf both helped and hurt his situation. He’s more awake, but he’s jittery and anxious. It’s dampened by the heavy weight on his shoulders, in his bones, trying to drag him down to the floor, but his hands shake. His hands never shake.

Despite the churning of his stomach and the fine tremor in his fingers and the raucous shouting of Senators, Fox tilts his head sideways against the wall and drifts. It’s not sleep, but shutting his eyes helps slow the spinning of his head.

Every so often, the sensation of falling jerks his awareness back to his surroundings. It seems cruel. Like taunting. To edge so close to rest only to be yanked back to where he started. He wants to curl up on the floor and give up this fruitless battle against his body’s needs.

He drifts.

“Fox?” A hand wraps around his arm and squeezes, startling him. Fox jerks backwards, but there’s already a wall at his back. He blinks several times, trying to clear the blur from his vision. His eyelids are heavy. One of Thorn’s kids is hovering a hand over Fox’s shoulder. Gab. “You alright, boss?”

Fox grunts noncommittally and pushes fully upright. By some miracle, he doesn’t immediately collapse. The chrono in the corner of his HUD mocks him.

Seven more hours.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Two more meetings.

Palpatine’s voice melts into a droning monotone sometimes. Fox has picked up tensing and relaxing the muscles in his neck and shoulders to keep himself awake. Alert is a tall order at this point, but he’s really trying.

There’s an angsty electro-pop song that Thire’s been playing in the mess looping through his head.

Fortunately, this isn’t a one-on-one meeting. It’s more of an overblown security shift, since there are probably a dozen Senators lounging throughout Palpatine’s office. They're sipping on wine that’s worth more credits than Fox’s entire life and discussing how to best balance the budget for the new year.

All Fox can think about is the absurdity of this war entering its third year. These meetings never address the death toll, but why would they? It isn’t a death toll if the soldiers aren’t sentient. Just like the Seps, the Republic Senate talks about loss of units in terms of the financial risk of increasing or decreasing production.

Deliberately unclenching his jaw, Fox relaxes his shoulders.

Thorn keeps telling him that he should cut some of the ‘better’ Senators some slack. That it’s all relative. Still, even as Organa and Amidala and Chuchi sit in this meeting and argue against funnelling more credits into the GAR, they concede that the Republic can’t fall too far behind when the Separatists are building more battle droids every day. What good is publicly railing against the war when they fan the flames of conflict behind closed doors.

Something something, political pressure, blah blah, playing the long game.

The clones have no long game to play. Not when their life expectancy is thirteen years and dropping as shinies get deployed younger and younger. Surviving two years after leaving Kamino is an accomplishment. It makes them old by comparison. The youngest of Fox’s new batch of shinies is nine and probably won’t live to see eleven. Amidala came by and met them, which is more effort than most Senators make, but it’s still superficial. It’s not enough.

Fox doesn’t have the emotional space to cut slack to politicians who only do the bare minimum.

He flexes his jaw and it pops loudly, thankfully silenced by his helmet. Simmering frustration and helplessness wring him out, leaving his head and limbs aching. He needs another caf. Or a nap.

Four more hours.

That’s manageable. He’ll see the other side of this shift, if not the other side of this war.

His mind wanders.

A delicate hand wraps around his upper arm, squeezing ineffectually against plastoid. Fox lets out a breath and opens his eyes to see Amidala watching him with naked concern. In front of Palpatine and his Red Guard.

He switches his vocoder back on and very carefully doesn’t snap, “Can I help you, Senator?”

Amidala blinks, and Fox isn’t sure what she expected. “I just wanted to make sure you’re well, Commander. I can’t imagine these meetings are particularly interesting or easy to listen to.”

Fox hadn’t been listening. That’s the trick to not going absolutely insane when in proximity to the Senate. “I’m fine, ma’am, it’s part of the job.”

“Still, I was hoping you would join me for a caf in my office. I wanted to get your thoughts on a few potential reforms to procedural treatment of GAR troopers, and the Coruscant Guard in particular.”

It feels like bait. If any other Senator invited him back to their office for a private meeting– Fox shoves that thought away. He starts to politely decline and nearly chokes on the words. Frigid cold spikes up his spine.

No, he neither can nor wants to hear this potential reform.

“To my knowledge, there's no need to address the treatment of the troopers. We’re happy to serve and are treated fairly by the Senate and our superior officers.”

There’s no reason for anything to change. The clones are treated as what they are, weapons to be aimed and fired at the discretion of the Republic.

For a half-second, Fox wonders where that chain of thoughts came from.

“I see,” Amidala says and retracts her hand. For reasons unknown, the loss of contact makes pressure build behind Fox’s eyes. Has any nat-born ever touched him without intent to harm? “Feel free to contact me if you change your mind.” She turns to Palpatine and ducks her head. “Good evening, Chancellor.” And then she’s gone.

Fox ignores the discomfort that always coils around him when he’s left alone with Palpatine.

“I’m pleased to hear that you and your men are being treated fairly,” he says with a smile.

“Yes, sir.”

“I hope you’ll take care to bring any concerns directly to me, Commander.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

Fox snaps off a salute and lets his legs carry him from the office on autopilot.

Four more hours.

One more meeting.

He can do this.

“We can’t expect you clones to keep us safe!” some Core world Senator shouts, bare inches from Fox’s visor. Fox glances at the spittle flecked across his HUD with disaffected apathy. “If there is truly an information leak in the Senate Guard, the heart of the Republic is in jeopardy! We should issue a state of emergency!”

He’s been on this tirade for a while now and shows no signs of calming. This is really not in Fox’s purview. “I assure you, Senator, the Coruscant Guard is fully prepared for every eventuality. We're very thoroughly trained on the security protocols to be implemented if and when a leak is confirmed.”

That Senate Guard captain didn’t have the authority to complain to the Chancellor, but he did have enough to file one to the war council. Fox can acknowledge that he probably brought this on himself.

“Then why does Captain Braelig tell me that the Guard has been uncooperative with his attempts to bolster security?”

Thirty minutes. Then two hours on patrol.

He can do this. He has to do this.

“The captain’s request was in breach of GAR regulations, sir. I can’t legally rent my troops to the Senate Guard.”

The Senator scowls, rough and ugly. “And I’m to believe your word over his? Is it so incredible to worry that your programming has been tampered with?”

Another Senator, thankfully still seated, nods at that. “It’s not as if we know the details of the clones’ programming. For all his wisdom, the Chancellor is hardly an expert in these matters. Surely there's some risk of interference.”

Fox sighs quietly and it makes his head spin. He doesn’t know how to say that it doesn’t work that way without offending someone, and he can’t offer the Kaminoans’ expertise without risking an impromptu trip back to Tipoca. It’s hard to think through the near-suffocating weight of exhaustion.

Evidently, he takes too long to formulate a response. The spit-spewing Senator snarls and jerks a hand up to take Fox by the brim of his helmet, and it takes every scrap of his self-control not to snap the man’s arm. Programming, his ass.

“Listen, clone. I’m going to need some kind of insurance if the Senate will be relying on you in the case of this security breach.”

Fox goes to offer some empty reassurance, but the Senator is out of patience. Very abruptly, the safety of Fox’s helmet disappears, yanked harshly off his head and flung to the floor. Gone is the chrono he’d been watching for three shifts in a row, and the pending message notification from Thorn, and the noise muffling filter over his ears, and the live update feed from his upper ranks. He watches it roll toward the door and wishes he could follow it.

Clearing his throat against a rising lump, he raises his gaze back to the Senator and pointedly ignores the disgust on his face. He knows he looks like banthashit, thanks. “I’m sure I can get ahold of the Kaminoans’ product quality guarantee and the ongoing quality control measures that have been in place since the beginning of the war. Sir.”

“See to it that you do,” the Senator spits. Fox squeezes his left wrist until he swears he feels his bones creaking, but he doesn’t wipe his face. “I’ll need that by end-of-day.”

Kindly, Fox doesn’t point out that it’s past end-of-day because this meeting was scheduled for karking 2000 hours.

“Gods, are you all so poorly composed under those helmets?” a third Senator asks, probably rhetorically, given that there’s no right answer.

“Unprofessional is what it is,” the one in his face says. “I’ll be informing the Chancellor.”

Fox can’t sigh or squeeze the growing blur from his vision without the privacy of his bucket. He also can’t quite follow the rest of the conversation, sinking down and back into a corner of his head. It’s just about all he can manage to keep his knees locked so he doesn’t drop.

An indeterminate period of time later, the Senators file out of the meeting room. Fox makes the mistake of closing his eyes and nearly topples when his balance is upended. Bending to pick up his bucket adds a swell of nausea to the beaten down ache in his joints. He slots it back on his head and steps out into the halls. The sun has long since set.

Two hours on patrol.

His HUD is out of focus.

He can—

No.

No, he can’t.

His knees buckle underneath him and he collapses, lost to the world before he even hits the ground.

Fox wakes up slowly, feeling like a brand new man.

Nocte notices immediately, which is to be expected.

“Fox,” he says, utterly deadpan, “you’re a fucking idiot.”

Which is fair, but also isn’t really. “I didn’t ask for that many shifts back-to-back,” he tries to defend himself.

“Yeah, but you also didn’t ask literally anyone to cover literally any of it, idiot.” Without preamble, Nocte stabs a hypo into Fox’s thigh harder than seems necessary. “Do I even want to know how much caf you drank? The point of not giving you stims wasn’t for you to try to make up the difference with caffeine. If you come in here with substance-induced heart palpitations again, I swear to the Force I’ll just leave you out in the hall.”

Fox almost laughs out loud at that, feeling lighter than he has in days. “No, you won’t.”

“No,” Nocte agrees with a scowl, “I won’t. What were you thinking?”

He never considered passing his work onto anyone else, but that’s the wrong answer here. “Well, I have a whole rotation off now.” Unless any of the other commanders need a shift covered.

Nocte sighs. He probably knows that unspoken caveat better than most, given how often he steals shifts from his patients. “Do you need the lecture about stimulant use in conjunction with high anxiety and the risk of long-term heart problems? Again?”

“Nope,” Fox says. “You’ve scared me straight. No more stims.”

“Sure. Of course.” He doesn’t sound convinced. Despite feeling more rested than he has in recent memory, Fox’s awareness starts sliding away again. “Are you falling asleep again? Great, I’m putting you on medical leave for an extra rotation. So. Suck on that, Commander.”

#this is an oldie but i just went back and edited it a bit today so idk here you go #leo.writes #commander fox #how do you tag fic on this site #coruscant guard #waugh this is OLD old i'm scream. like a whole year #brb gotta have an existential crisis

138 notes · View notes

jtownraindancer · 1 year

Text

Not sure how many of y'all are interested, but I found a gem on YouTube today:

youtube

This is a recording of a 2013 radio adaptation of He Died With His Eyes Open by Derek Raymond. Burn Gorman plays the titular Detective, investigating a rather gruesome murder in 1980s London.

An immersive experience clocking in at 1 hour, 25-ish minutes, I highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys murder mysteries, audiobooks and podcasts, or some juicy drama.

Also featuring Toby Jones as Charlie and Tanya Franks as Babs.

#burn gorman #made me laugh. gave me a mini existential crisis. actually reminded me of how much i used to devour detective novels.#he died with his eyes open #derek raymond #audio drama #radio drama #toby jones #tanya franks #nick perry #man i need a tag for burn now fuck #i usually have trouble focusing on audio like this but i was hooked!#another sgt. detective to add to the burn collection #'you /do/ have a name don't you? ----- well... don't you?'#Youtube #period typical isms

27 notes · View notes

ravensmadreads · 10 months

Text

@fuckyeahdindjarin told me to write a tattoo artist Jack Daniels (and @barbiewritesstuff was an encouraging loving menace like always) and I wrote the bits I wanted to write (it sucks) And then I tried adding some plot (cause she had to end up in the chair you know??? ) and now its entirely too much plot and none of it makes sense (it does in my head but idk about you all) but I'm having entirely too much fun with these idiots (sombody smack sense into me) And it's mostly a disaster (but whatever) Ok. Yeah. So.

Does anyone want a sneak peak?

Also. Somebody stop me.

#jack “whiskey” daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #how did i go from “not a whiskey person” to this #like #pedro pascal can cool his jets im not falling for whiskey or max lord no way no how #< THIS IS A LEGIT TAG I WROTE #tumblr bringing it up to shame me #i blame Cee #raven is a 🤡#raven writes #HOW IS THIS A TAG NOW #brb im having an existential crisis

17 notes · View notes

filmografo · 6 months

Text

heads up, seven up!

i got tagged by @cat-esper, @dallonwrites & @encrucijada! thank you :)

since i haven't written in a while, i am answering the three tags in one post. this is from the first chapter of Warm Climates! cecilia being a writer is the reason why her yearning is this big... i think. could be projection. could be the lesbianism. could be grief!

As soon as the clean clothes hit her body she notices how hungry she is, notices the absence of food, blood pressure low. Cecilia is lost in the world, out on the fields, inside this old house and inside her own mind. She needs to finish her novel and find herself and understand the reason behind her divorce with Diana even though deep down she already knows, even though it's very clear. There's still a long way to go before Cecilia becomes human. The only piece of humanity she has in her is hunger. Her desire. Something that keeps coming back.

(soft) tagging @cream-and-tea, @ibuprofen-exe, @chauceryfairytales and anyone else who feels like doing this! go crazy! i love getting inside your oc's minds!

#like wdym “oh im hungry. time to have an existential crisis”???#girl ur 55 GROW UP!#[shakes her gently] my baby...#when she finally meets eliza and realizes life is much more fun when u turn ur brain off #can't wait to finish this chapter. my god #tag game #my writing #writing excerpt #sun on skin

7 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

theriverwinter

Only The Hottest Girls on Tumblr

blickkontakt

Ehefrauen

babkasalka

Без названия

random-tickle-stuff

idk

greentrickster

GreenTrickster's Den