#my favorite gree look

[ninjigma]

Part 6/7 - Previous / Next / First

Track: ‘We All Lift Together (From "Warframe")’ - Keith Power

They were on the other side of a raging inferno, a lava filled cut in this Sith forsaken planet. And despite it truly being too far to see what was happening clearly, Gree knew immediately that the people wielding sabers towards Palpatine were not the Jedi it should be. 

The feeling of fear was only confirmed when Master Luminara came barreling onto their position. “Master Yoda! The force-”

“Calls for the clones, it does,” Yoda cut her off, slicing seamlessly through the droids on Gree's right. 

Luminara seemed to be a mix of emotions, a turmoil Gree so rarely saw her suffer through. But in the end it seemed to have a peaceful conclusion. Luminara took a breath, then turned off her lightsaber. And before Gree could think of why she would do such a thing in the middle of a warzone, she was holding it out toward him.

“What- General, what am I supposed to do with that?”

“Protect us as you always have, Commander Gree,” she stated simply, as if there could be no other answer.

And then Yoda was beside her, having cleared the area for the needed moment of peace. “Your lives you always give. Ours, we give now.” And then Grand Master Yoda himself was offering his small lightsaber, blade end facing inwards.

It was all in a blink, but the two Jedi could feel the hesitation take hold of Gree. His fear of losing his family clashing against the fear of it being his fault, his failure. “Gree,” Luminara argued to the unspoken thought. “You have always listened and learned, always cared when all you were supposed to do was fight. Continue to open yourself to the world around you, the force flowing in it, and you will always be able to find your family amongst it. Together, you will all come back home.” 

In a short breath Gree found that despite it all, a part of him knew she was right. This was right. Fighting with his brothers was what he was really made for. Learning from them, loving them, and protecting them no matter what. Why should this moment be any different? Why would he ever stop now?

Feeling the shift of hope, Yoda gave Gree a rare gremlin like chuckle. “Besides, remember how to make my stew, no one else can. Come back then, you shall.”

“We trust in you,” Luminara insisted, now smiling softly. “Always.”

It now felt so simple, like something within Gree was laughing that he ever thought there could be another path. His brothers, all of them; they needed this, needed him. And it was with a newfound determination that Gree finally nodded, gently taking the sabers and then holding them firm as he ignited them. The group was bathed bright in the color they shared, and though it was an odd sensation, Gree realized he knew exactly what he needed to do. But- “I’ll never reach them in time. They’re already fighting and I can’t-”

Yoda was suddenly shuffling past him, faster than the Gree always suspected he ever should be. “Trust in the force, you clones may not always; but trust in me, do you?”

“Of course,” Gree answered, a bit surprised at how quick the answer came now.

“Then jump, you shall.” Yoda outstretched a sure hand toward him. “And trust, you will.”

#this is the one I am most nervous about posting #you can't see it but I did paint all the camo patterns on him #because they came straight from kashyyyk for this #my favorite gree look #I love him so much #clone commander gree #luminara unduli #master yoda #star wars #clone wars #fanart #mustafar #give clones lightsabers #writing to music #ficlet series #part 6 #my writing #my art

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#there's something really beautiful about experiencing the weather patterns of a new place #where i live now. its not like where i grew up. not like the foothills of Appalachia but its more familiar than the Chihuahuan desert was #when i go home to ohio everythings so green. so green. unimaginably green and the towns are in the woods. the hills roll #and trees billow deciduous and packed so tightly the treeline is like a wall of plant matter. here there are trees but they are tall and #evergreen. patchy in places like shrubs in the desert. the grass grows green but also pale tan and dead. houses are routed in valleys #between mountains. they're made of wood and not stucco but they still look strange and the landscape is crumpled together tall. and there's #water. it rains. days can be dreary and gray with drizzle. i forgot what thats like. when a single low stratus cloud blocks out thewhole sk #and fog clings to the trees. my school bus used to drive by a lake where thr fog was so thick i didnt kno how the driver could see the road #but somehow i forgot how much joy suspended water vapor gives me living in a place where when it rains it pours so hard the streets flood #and the greedy ground drinks the landscape dry. but there are new things as well. here smoke rolls up over thr mountains and gets stuck in #the valleys so that the weather forcast reads: Smoke for days on end. im used to tornado warnings and heat warnings and dust storm warnings #but ive never expected Smoke as a type of weather. and im sure there's more to experience. ive only been here like 3 weeks. its not as gree #as home. the storms dont seem to get quite so violent. the woods are so full of bears that its an active threat. but its not the desert #and while ill miss the shapes of desert plants and little lizards. when i look up at the pine and spruce trees i feel like i can breathe a #little easier. well see how i feel once the long cold winter sets in haha #but i dunno. part of me still longs for a violent thunderstorm. one where u can feel the temperature drop and u csn feel it building all da #one that bends the trees and smells like ozone. it was never like that in thr southwest and im not sure that happens here #but maybe thats just a desire for chaos and violence as a product of my pathological internal control. i cant be spontaneous so let nature #bring the fear to me. some of my favorite memories are watching lightning strikes #so it goes i suppose #unrelated #listen. is it fucked up to have ohio nostalgia? maybe so. but in my defense i grew up in the pretty part of ohio lol

[randoimago]

May I ask for Astarion, Wyll, Shadowheart, and Gale having a 'Wait, why am I jealous?' realization of their romantic feelings for Tav? (For the record, Tav is romantically interested in the companion, too, because I can't handle angst right now 🥲)

Realizing They Have Feelings

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Astarion, Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): Might be tiny hints of angst just because of character backstory mentions, but I did my best with these for you!

Astarion

He doesn't get jealous. People get jealous because of him. And yet, the way he sees one of the harpers at Last Light look at you. That look of reverence for saving them.

One that almost looks at you like a god and a face that flusters when you catch their stare. Astarion, feels the twisting in his gut and it causes him to pause.

Yes he's flirted with you. He's lied and said he's into you. But now, he's not sure it's lies anymore.

And that scares him a bit. With how uncertain the future is, his survival, dealing with Cazador, well it's just a lot of uncertainty and does he even have the time to think of his feelings? Well, Astarion is nothing if not selfish.

Of course he knows your feelings towards him and that makes his admittance a bit easier on his part. The confessing about his intent on manipulating you was a bit harder to get off his tongue especially with the hurt you display.

But you accept his apology and Astarion is so lost on how an actual relationship or whatever you both have is supposed to go. But he's happy to explore it with you.

Gale

Gale flirts with you quite a bit. He doesn't even hide the fact that he finds you attractive. You have a very attractive face, why would he hide his affection? But it never really was anything beyond just simple flirtations.

And then he sees how that tiefling blacksmith smiles at you, how you smile back and he can't help pouting.

For a split second, he's a bit frightened that the weird feeling in his stomach is the orb before he sighs in relief that it's just jealousy.

And then he gets more pouty at the fact that he is jealous. Perhaps his fondness of your pretty face is about more than just your face.

It takes a bit of practicing his speech, redoing certain sections and sighing loudly at how ridiculous this is (but he also finds the amusement in it too).

Eventually, he tells you the truth of his affections. His harmless flirtations had evolved into actual romantic feelings towards you. And the brightest smile crosses his face as you return them. Now you just got to help him not explode and you'll be great.

Shadowheart

Shadowheart thought she was ready to kill Lae'zel before. But now she's hearing comments about your scent and how the gith wants to claim you.

The cleric can't help but scoff and take a sip of one of the thousands of bottles of alcohol that you have in your pack for some reason. Maybe she could throw one of the copies of Traveler's Guides books at her since you have so many copies for some reason.

What Shadowheart doesn't understand is why she's so upset. You're an adult, you can make your own decisions and enjoy yourself with whomever you wish.

And yet, you saved her. You've accepted her silence and wish to keep secrets. And it's at that moment, Shadowheart realizes that she's jealous and she can't help scoffing again because how did she get so pathetic?

She wants to stay silent, keep her feelings a secret as well, but she can't hold them back. Especially when her secrets are revealed to you and then you ask about her favorite flower of all things.

Her feelings end up coming out and instead of turning away and rejecting her (like she expected of all her reveals), you accept them as well. And even reciprocate. She's going to need another bottle of alcohol and this time, she hopes you join her in the drink.

Wyll

He's not really one for jealousy. A dash of disappointment, maybe, but he's got enough demons and devils that he doesn't need to think about the green one.

That's why whenever he sees you flirting with another, well it does give him some disappointment that perhaps he is too late due to his slow realization.

There's also some self consciousness that comes with it too. After all, Wyll isn't as charming or handsome as he once was with the new horns growing out of his head.

Still, he can't help but cherish the memories he had when asking for a dance and you agreeing.

Considering he had gotten this far with a dance, Wyll decides that he might as well tell you his feelings that have been slowly, but surely growing.

Imagine his surprise when you accept him, half-devil appearance and all. Wyll can't help finding his worries silly in hindsight, but he'll laugh at himself later. After he's had that dance.

Taglists: @reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc

#bg3 x reader #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #gale x reader #shadowheart x reader #wyll x reader #astarion x reader #bg3 gale x reader #bg3 wyll x reader #bg3 shadowheart x reader #bg3 astarion x reader

[emmyrosee]

She’s been an absolute brat all day.

Atsumu can’t take it anymore, as cute as Hisako is in the flesh and bone, she’s one of the most stubborn little girls he’s ever met- granted, he’s only met like, three, but she’s on the top of that list.

He can’t blame her, she’s got Miya blood in her veins, but he’s never seen the effects this potent.

And today? She’s in a goddamned mood.

Atsumu puts her hair up, she takes it down because she doesn’t like it.

She doesn’t want to eat her breakfast because of how it’s arranged on the plate.

She didn’t want to brush her teeth because of how the toothbrush felt in her mouth.

Atsumu told her he’s going to leave without her, she said “that’s fine.”

She didn’t want to buckle her seatbelt, because the seatbelt made her skin itch.

(“No,” he snarls. “This is not a negotiation. You’re getting buckled.”

“But I don’t want to!” She pouts. “You n’ mommy nd’ uncle Samu tell me I don’t gotta do stuff I’m on-comfter-ble with!

“This is different and Miya Hisako, if you do not listen to me, so help me gods-“)

He’s at his limit.

How can she be so precious with her mother, her uncle, the other uncles who is on Atsumu’s team, her granny, literally everyone but him?

Menace.

It takes two hours to get Hisako ready and fed and in the car for school, Atsumu is sure he’s got grey hairs now, but he’s thankful to at least have her in the car. The ride is silent and tense, with Atsumu’s white knuckles gripping the wheel with the force of 1000 gods. In the mirror, he sees her little arms crossed, her lips in a little scowl, and she looks so much like him when he was a kid it’s hilarious- if he ever acted like this as a kid though, he needs to send his poor mother a muffin basket ASAP.

Finally, finally, they’re able to get to school without getting into another spat, and Atsumu sighs and parks his car, but before he gets out to let Hisako out, he turns in his seat with a soft smile.

“Listen, baby,” he says sweetly, trying to extend an olive branch to his damned six year old. “I… I want you to have a good day today, okay?” His tips his head when the pout etched on Hisako’s lips soften. “Do you wanna tell daddy what’s wrong? What I can do to help?”

Hisako sighs and fiddles with her tiny fingers. Atsumu nods softly in encouragement, ready for his babygirl to confide in her favorite person and reach a resolution that would help them both through the day, and-

“It’s you, daddy.”

Uh.

What.

“Excuse me!”

“It’s you!” She whines again, her legs kicking out in her seat for emphasis.

Atsumu is convinced he’s never been more offended in his life. He knows his little girl could be a tiny devil, she was her father’s spawn, but this?

Horrendous betrayal.

“What the heck did I do!”

“Other than breathin’, nothin’!” She grumbles, the scowl on her lip out once again. “You just get on my nerves sometimes!”

“You little-!” He unbuckles himself to fully turn in his seat. “You don’t even know what that means, okay?!”

“Uh-huh I do!” She crosses her tiny arms, “you get on uncle ‘samu’s nerves all t’ time! He tells me!! He goes ‘your dad’s real good at gettin’ on my nerves!’” She huffs, “and now I ‘gree!”

“That’s not-! That’s-! You’re-!” While Atsumu scrambles for words, Hisako is blinking at him with the most wide, angry eyes, and he growls deep in his throat when he can’t find the words to convey how salty he is. Scrambling, he escapes his way out of the car to open the door to his back seat, brows furrowed.

“I hope you have the day you deserve!” He snips, fingers diving in to tickle her sides and up to her neck, and he tries not to soften at the sound of her laughter. “I hope, that none of your markers work, and all of your crayons are broken, and all your letters are messed up!” Tiny hands shove at his, bouncing in her seat to try and fight him away.

“Daddy, no!” She squeals.

“I hope that all your papers get crinkled, and I hope the lunch uncle Osamu packed you doesn’t come with a note! I hope that your friends only want you to swing when you play jump rope, and I hope you get sand in your shoe in the sandbox, you little snot!”

With that, he retracts his hands and unbuckles her seat, still trying to keep an angry facade, despite the fact that seeing her smile is more than enough to break that feeling. Quickly, Atsumu unbuckles her seat and pulls her up and out of the car, passing her backpack to her with a tiny ruffle of her hair. “Get outta here.”

Atsumu cards his hair back and looks to the sky for whoever was listening for patience, but that silent prayer is interrupted by a gentle tug on his sweatpants.

“What?”

She flashes him her biggest set of puppy eyes, and Atsumu quirks a brow. “You didn’t give me a hug…” her fingers clasp in front of her innocently. “‘N I don’t like that. You still give mommy hugs when she mad at you.”

The vein in his forehead throbs but he chuckles at his little girl’s words, because sure, maybe she is right, the little shit. He bends down to scoop her into his big arms, squeezing her tight with a playful groan of effort while she curls her arms around his neck.

“I do hope you have a good day, princess,” he hums, kissing her temple. “Even if I made you mad this morning with my breathing.” Hisako giggles into his neck, and with another kiss to her head, he finally puts her down and sends her back off with her teacher, sighing at the little terror he calls his daughter.

He gets back in the car. He picks up his phone. Immediately, his fingers fly over the keyboard to dial his brothers number.

“It’s 7 in the morning, one of ya better be dying-“

“YOU TELL YOUR NIECE I GET ON YOUR NERVES?”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, he hears his twin, his younger twin, the twin he should’ve eaten in the womb, chuckle.

“Yeah,” he says cooly, like this hasn’t been the lead cause of chaos for the first four hours of Atsumu’s day.

“Sometimes, you manage to piss me off with just breathin’, ‘tsumu.”

based on this tiktok hehehe

#dad!atsumu having a menace for a daughter is such delicious food #like she’s so cute and so sweet but she still is an absolute monster when she wants to be PFFFFFF- #dad!atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu miya fluff #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya x f!reader #< implied #atsumu miya x reader fluff #atsumu miya imagine #atsumu miya haikyuu #miya atsumu #miya atsumu fluff #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x f!reader #miya atsumu x reader fluff #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu haikyuu #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x f!reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x yn #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #dad!au #dad!atsumu miya #dad!haikyuu

[devildomcrybaby]

​Make-up and make out

▸ Obey me! Mammon x MC

Suggestive, but not smut

You got bored one afternoon and decided to put make-up on Mammon. This builds a lot of sexual tension.

You casually walked down the stairs of the House of Lamentation, headphones in your ears and a small beauty case in your hands. After being finished writing a paper due the next day and putting on a face mask to relax and rest your sore eyes that stared at a screen for too long, you were left with nothing else to do. It was still early in the afternoon and boredom began to bite, so you decided it was time to annoy one of the brothers. 

You headed down the long corridor that leads to the dining room, before entering and looking around. Some candy wrappers laid on the table along with a few candies and chocolates still untouched, probably the remainings of Beel’s snack, discarded to go look for a more filling meal. You raised a hand to your headphones and lowered the volume to zero. It was oddly quiet and peaceful. Satan was sitting on an armchair, a crime book in his hands that you recognized by its color - or because you simply already knew they were among his favorites - and a focused look on his face. The faint beeping noises coming from Levi’s device interrupting the silence every now and then. Was it a shooting game? Or the beeping of the dialogue options of an otome game?

Another shuffling noise came from the sofa where Mammon was mixing a poker deck, probably scheming a new trick to shake his brothers down, or anyone else for the matter. They all seemed to be chilling and as free as you were, so you asked if you could put make-up on any of them. Satan slowly raised his head from his book, about to say something, when Mammon ditched the cards getting up to say: “Of course the great Mammon would give you the privilege to do his make-up, don’t go asking just anyone around”, he scoffs, a blush creeping on his face while he looked anywhere but in your direction. You rolled your eyes at his antics, a beaming smile already on your face. “Very well then”. You reached the table to grab one of the candies that you assumed to be raspberry flavored, before popping it in your mouth.

You then walked towards Mammon and lightly pushed him to make him fall back again on the sofa, some of the poker cards scattering around the floor when he bumped his foot on the table where he left them a moment before. 

“Hey, watch it, human!” he huffed, feignign annoyance.

“Sorry, Mammon, I promise I’ll be gentle from now on”. Levi blushed at your words and glanced at your form before fixing his eyes back on his game. You put your beauty case on the sofa and leaned a knee between that and Mammon’s leg. “Do you mind?” You asked, pointing your index finger between you and him. He frowned in confusion, before turning red. You could clearly see that his mind went blank in that exact moment. After a few seconds during which you almost regretted your question, starting to feel embarrassed yourself, he shook his head. He gulped, his eyes carefully observing you. You then shifted your whole weight on the knee already on the sofa and lifted your other leg to rest on the other side of his thighs, straddling him. Satan couldn’t resist glancing at you and Mammon, already cursing himself for not being faster in his answer. 

“Do you like Rihanna?“ you asked. One of your hands was resting on your thigh while the other was near your face, your index finger on the headphone to raise the volume again.

“It’s one of my favorite singers from the human world“ he answers genuinely, still flushed from the closeness of your body to his, embarrassment not letting him form thoughts coherent enough to give you a smug comment about his knowledge of the human world pop culture. You smiled and nodded, taking one of the wireless headphones and passing it to him. He took it and put it on, the faint notes of “Love on the brain” beginning to play. 

You turned to the case, opening the zip and taking out a white and green tube. You put some of the cream on your index finger and proceeded to spread it on Mammon’s cheek. He winced a little at the coldness and you giggled for his reaction. He frowned, ready to give you an offended comment, but hearing you laugh made him experience an odd warm feeling in his stomach and immediately relax his features, smiling fondly at you. 

You proceded to apply the moisturizer to his face and neck, gently rubbing it. “Close your eyes” you said in a low voice not to distupt the peaceful atmosphere of the room. When he did you lightly blowed on his face to make the cream dry out faster. He breathed a contented sigh and you rummaged in your beauty case, looking for your beauty blender and foundation. You put some on the sponge that you held between your index and thumb, then lightly tapped your ring finger on his cheek to check if the cream actually dried out.

As you kept applying the make-up on his face you felt Mammon relaxing more and more under you. His head was thrown back on the back of the sofa, his lips slightly parted and his eyes half-closed.

When you were about to put some powder on his face you felt the tips of his slender fingers lightly moving up your leg to end up caressing the exposed skin between your short pleated skirt and the white thigh-highs you were wearing. He hadn’t touched you at all until that moment (if we ignore that you were literally sitting on him). Goosebumps surfaced on your skin at the sudden contact, but you stayed focused on your task. His hand then pulled down your skirt as to fix it better, right before caressing you above it with an open palm, travelling over your body until it reached your waist. His hand was resting there now, where his thumb found another inch of exposed skin to brush against, between the waistband of your skirt and your white cropped t-shirt. You intently looked at his face, brows knitted together, a hand faintly resting on his jawline while you kept doing your work. You couldn’t help but thinking about how beautiful he looked in that exact moment or at any moment and it had little to do with the make-up you applied on him to get by the boredom of an idle Sunday afternoon. The raising and falling of his chest, a faint blush tinting his cheeks, messy hair from when you moved them off his forehead, full lips and long lashes through which he was looking at you. You tried to keep your mind focused on what you were doing, but your thoughts chased way more licentious images. 

He brushed the tips of his fingers on your side. You inadvertedly shifted your body closer to his when his thumb grazed the outline of your breast, your noses almost touching. He could feel your raspberry scented breath on his lips when he suddenly grabbed your waist firmly, pulling you against him. You spread your legs more so that your laps touched. You could feel him hard under you and you knew you were as turned on as he was. His touches made you hot and bothered by the second, even though you did your best to concentrate and pretend to be unaffected. You tensed at the idea that he could feel how wet your panties were.

“Mammon” your whisper was barely audible, cheeks more red then ever. You didn’t even know what you were asking for. Did you want to get away, embarrassed to let him know how much his touches affected you? Or did you maybe want him to touch you some more? The idea of being deprived of the warmth of his body and the delight of his touches felt excruciating, like getting your lunch snatched when you’re starving after a day on an empty stomach Beel get out of this body.

You knew that perception was made dramatic by Rihanna’s raspy voice begging not to quit loving her and by the mess of emotions in your stomach to the realization that you were finally this close to the demon you longed for. Never had you imagined that you’d end up a blushing mess when you boldly approached him earlier.

His lips brushed against yours at your plea, the tip of his tounge tracing the shape of your lips and tasting your gloss. “Did you put this on me too?” he asked in a whisper, hands still tightly on your waist. 

“Not yet”.

“Pity. I like it”. He nuzzled your nose while he fixed your thigh high, pulling it up gently. Your heart was pounding and your breathing was heavy, one of your hands was resting on his cheek and the other on his neck. You wanted nothing but to feel his lips on yours.

Even though you felt like you were the only ones in the room or in the world for what you cared, the tiny part in you that stayed rational knew you couldn’t overreach in front of Satan and Levi, albeit you gave your back to them, they weren’t completely naive.

“Shall we continue this...make-up session in my room?” Mammon’s question wakes you from your thoughts.

“Isn’t this Lucifer’s line?” slipped out of your mouth.

He jolted back a little, looking at you with a confused gaze that could easily turn to an an angered one. “Ah? What did you mean by that?” the pitch of his voice way higher than before at your words. You suddenly got away from his hold taking advantage of the momentary shock, running away in the corridor.

“Mammon, why do you have to be so loud?” Satan shook his head and sighed, knowing that the rare moment of peace you were enjoying in the House of Lamentation was over.

“Maybe I’ll tell you if you catch me” you shouted from outside, laughing.

“When I’ll catch you, you won’t have a lucky escape, human”. Hearing his footsteps approaching you headed to his room, eager not to get away with anything at all. 

~

I stopped writing because this thing came from an extemporaneous thought when I spaced out while studying today that ended before the actual smut part. Also it’s my first drabble so I hope it doesn’t completely suck. And it’s so self indulgent, I’m such a simp for Mammon it’s embarrassing.

#Eve writes #obey me #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #mammon x y/n #obey me x mc #obey me shall we date #om! x reader #obey me imagines #om! mammon #obey me smut #obey me x you #mammon x you #obey me mammon x reader #obey me x reader #mammon drabble #mammon scenarios #mammon fluff #obey me fluff #mammon

[cobaltbeam]

Fanwork creators self rec! When you get this, reply with your five favorite fics/art/podfics/etc. that you've made, then pass on to others. Let’s spread the self-love! 💖💖

aw man, this is so nice!!!! It had me actually thinking of which pieces I'm actually proud of, it was difficult really!!

I think my all time favorite has to be the rex with the flowercrown, just because it reached so many people and it was loved so much (by the lovely cosplayer who inspired the piece as well)

Then I do still very much like the mace windu post o66 I drew a while back, just cause mace is a difficult character to draw for me personally, and I'm still satisfied with the look and the vibe of it.

I'm gonna put the aayla closeup as well- it's not particularly good on facial structure, but it's one of the first times that i tried doing the whole piece with the lasso tool, and am still so happy with the hands in that!

I'm definitely putting here the gree drawing i did not too long ago. from the drawings I did this year, that's my all time favourite i think. The composition i really like, and it was a struggle for sure!!!

And lastly I'm gonna put the bad batch sheet I made when they first announced the show- it was the first time I got like. Recognition for my work, and I think that was the point I started actually believing that I could draw something good. That piece has so many mistakes but it will hold forever a place in my heart, so i'm putting it here as well <3

#asks

[wantonlywindswept]

fox & rex ficbit

finally wrote some tcw! whoo.

tbh not entirely sure where this is headed (a lie: i know exactly where i want this to end up, and it is with alpha-17 storming coruscant in a fit of protective rage and also murder) and atm it’s just a lot of exposition ideas because...i still have no real solid feel for the characters?? so i’m kind of working through that.

it is exhausting. star wars fanon you are exhausting. why can my brain not just write with the tropes and be done with it

anyway basically rex and fox are alpha-17′s feral children/brothers/students/?? because all three of them are competent chaos gremlins. set vaguely after geonosis but before the GAR is actually properly structured, bc if star wars doesn’t know what its timeline is then why the hell should i

---

Growing up on Kamino, Rex and Fox had three things in common: a taste for the popularly-loathed blue carbohydrate cubes, an unstoppable compulsion to always be the best at anything they did, and the extremely dubious honor of being Alpha-17's favorites.

Fox was one of the earlier Command Class clones decanted, the eldest of a batch that boasted Wolffe, Gree, Bly, and Cody: possibly the strongest CC batch that Kamino would ever produce. He came out with a massive chip on his shoulder and left his tact in his tube, and made a sport of talking back to every single trainer in the Cuy'val Dar--which was why he once spent two weeks in Medical with broken ribs, a punctured lung, and Dred Priest's bootprints on his chest.

On the other hand, Rex came from a CT batch that was nearly flushed for genetic deviation, and of the original five, only he and Crys made it past cadet training. He clawed to the top of all his training modules fueled by fear and spite, and did everything by the book to avoid any kind of attention that might further mark him as defective: he kept his head down and his mouth shut, no matter what he actually thought about things.

Alpha's ARC training was good for the both of them, in the end: it taught Rex how to speak his mind, and it taught Fox how to shut the fuck up.

"15 - 5," Alpha announced cheerfully, leaning on his training staff without even the slightest indication of being tired. Fox, flat on his back at Alpha's feet, wheezed something that might have been a curse.

"I'm starting to think that those 5 were a fluke," Rex said blandly. 

Fox's next growl was definitely a curse, and he lifted trembling hands to sign something insulting and anatomically improbable in Rex's direction.

"Go on, stop whining into my mats," Alpha said, nudging Fox in the side with his foot. "It's time for me to beat the other little brat into the ground."

Rex watched, snickering, as Fox very clearly struggled to keep from offering Alpha a similar insult. 

It was good that he was finally developing a sense of self-preservation.

It was just the three of them left in the gym, long after most sane troopers retreated to lick their wounds and get some kind of rest before they did the same thing all over again tomorrow. Even Fox's certifiably unhinged batch had abandoned them after a couple hours of extra training; most of the CCs had been tagged for the ARC classes, but some were taking to it with a little more enthusiasm than others.

Fox peeled himself off the floor, using his staff as a crutch as he staggered to the deceptive safety outside of the training ring. He passed Rex along the way; his encouraging pat on the shoulder turned into more of an uncoordinated smack to the side of the head, which Rex magnanimously decided to forgive on account of knowing he'd probably need Fox's help standing up later. 

Alpha was brutal, and relentless, and more than a little bit of a dick, but he wasn't cruel. He pushed them hard, taught them everything he knew, and if sometimes Rex caught him looking at them like he was worried they'd vanish the moment they left his sight, well. 

The campaign on Geonosis had been a hell of a debut. They'd lost thousands of brothers, and now they were all on edge waiting for their official postings. There was no telling where they'd end up next. 

Fox would undoubtedly be deployed where the fighting was the heaviest; he came off Geonosis with a dossier of accolades and a near-spotless string of victories. The rest of his batch had done equally well--all save Cody, who'd been unwillingly left behind on Kamino with a grade three concussion and a broken orbital bone, courtesy of one of Isabet Reau's battle circles.

Rex was probably destined for something similar. He'd performed well enough that he was guaranteed an officer commission, and he'd been all but adopted into the Command class after taking control of a battalion that had lost their commanding officer. It would be an absolute waste to not send him to the front lines.

Once ARC training was over, once they got their assignments and shipped out, it was entirely possible this would be the last time that Alpha saw them both alive.

With that cheery thought in mind, Rex spun the staff in his hands, met Alpha's grim expression with a sharp nod, and launched himself into the ring.

(Later, after Alpha dumped them both in the showers and ordered them not to drown, Fox gave him so much shit for only managing to win three matches out of twenty. But he also hauled Rex into the closer barracks that he shared with his batch, shoved him into the empty bed, and immediately passed out on him, which was enough of a comfort that Rex figured he could put off his vengeance for later. 

Maybe in the morning.

Maybe after they came back from the war, and they could prove to Alpha that he hadn't just sent them off to die.)

#tcw #tcw fanfiction #commander fox #captain rex #alpha-17 #i have the looming sense of dread #that this is one of those fandoms #where i'm going to have to change my mental characterizations from story to story #which drives me ABSOLUTELY crazy #but detangling canon and fanon and personal headcanon is goddamn exhausting #like do i want to write soft family feels? #or do i want fox and wolffe having competitive angry hatesex? #(i say) #(like i have the willpower to bother writing smut anymore) #maybe the characterizations will settle if i write them more idk #ANYWAY #also i have STILL not finished actually watching tcw #what is my life even #cunning and courage

[toribookworm22]

Hello & Welcome!

My name's Tori and welcome to my: Digital Bookshelf!

Bio:

I love everything about writing, so please send me any questions in regard to mine or yours! I love giving tips and motivation! I will hype you up! MORAL SUPPORT! 🥰

My library takes up most of my room, but I'm always looking for more books (recs welcome).

I'm a huge music lover and playlister.

I'm aro and ace-spec and am in love with the word queer. 💚🤍🖤

Pronouns are she/her.

Animatronic Saga:

Shut Down - Book 1 of The Animatronic Saga is out now and available for purchase on Amazon. It is also active on Goodreads. A proper Project Intro is still in the works, but I've linked the reveal post, with links, below. Main Tags: #animatronic saga #shut down

More info & current projects below the cut.

All my love,

~ toribookworm ❤️

Writing-Specific:

I started out in bad poetry and lyrics.

Novels are my favorite to write.

I also enjoy writing poetry, short stories, plays, and musicals.

Genre-wise, I tend to often fall under sci-fi & fantasy, though I certainly have my outliers.

Current Projects:

StormWatcher

A world devastated by storms.

This is my sci-fi book trilogy that currently only lives in short story form. My little science loving heart takes a turn on meteorology of the future.

Main Tags: #stormwatcher #kib gree

Prinz Charming

A dark fairytale retelling.

This is short story that I am currently turning into a novel. It is a mashup of fairytales twisted into an even darker form where there are no happy endings.

Main Tags: #prinz charming #dark fairytale retelling #malkaline

Four Kinds of Falling

A step. A slip. A trip. A stump.

This is my only straight-up romance novel-- funnily enough also a queer romance. Combining my love for dance with two stubborn boys, what could go wrong?

Main Tags: #four kinds of falling #4kof

My Secondary Series

7 years later...

I can't say much about this one. Considering that it's actually the spin-off secondary series of The Animatronic Saga. But there is, of course, always more story to tell.

Main Tags: #secondary series

You Do Not Have To Apologize For Your Existence

Love letters to my younger self.

This is my first poetry collection. It's currently in editing and waiting for final illustrations before moving into publishing.

Main Tags: None currently, but

#poetry #my poetry #poem for other works.

Brats!

1 mom. 6 six kids. All military family.

This is my most put together musical idea. While it hasn't been messed with in awhile, it lives very close to my heart and will eventually be worked on again.

Main Tags: #brats!

Tag System:

I go a little... tag crazy sometimes. So to make this as easy as possible for everyone:

Writing Tags:

#writeblr #writers of tumblr #writing motivation #writing positivity #writing advice #writing resources #writing prompt #dialogue prompt #writing tag game

Other Tags:

#sweet asks #my asks #not mine but i wish it was #queer #aro #aromantic #aro week #more art blogs #music lover #chronic playlister #on loop #artist deep dive #tag game

#writeblr #writers of tumblr #writeblr intro #updated version #hello & welcome! #also im currently on a wizard of oz kick #hence the gif #🙃 #bookworming

[itwasthisorthemilitary]

April 13, 2024

I knowwwww I haven't been writing 🙃

Ok Thursday night: Sughedys straightened my hair for a good 90 minutes and then knotted it up in a hair net and bandana. I was under strict instructions to not get sweaty between 10 pm Thursday night and noon on Friday. Impossible? Really enjoyed sitting there while she played with my hair. Felt like a little girl.

Yesterday was one of my favorite birthdays Ive ever had and I think it was because I went into it with such low expectations. I received an insane amount of gifts from my family. A new necklace for the party, a pair of pants, a sun hat, a new bag (all which I now have to figure out how to pack). Dena came over bright and early with my favorite coconut water and chocolates 😊 I can't explain what it was like receiving so many cards, handmade bracelets, and little trinkets from trainees who were working with whatever they had. I feel so lucky that my birthday was during PST and I got to celebrate with everyone before shipping out. Caitlin gave me a book and a postcard from New Hampshire and that made me cry. So for the morning I didn't do much of anything (couldn't get sweaty). I bought a pineapple and shared it with some people on my porch. Then. At noon it was time to get beautiful. Elianis helped me do my makeup, sughedys took my hair out of it's holdings, and I changed into my new dress. It was CRAZY putting makeup on, also it was so hot so really only eye makeup and lipstick because I was sweating so much. Yesterday afternoon felt like getting ready for prom with Audrey and Caitlin. We were singing to music, taking pictures at each of our houses, and we think the women were more excited than we were. Once we were all done we walked into the center of town for the despedida. The despedida is just a farewell party for all the volunteers and their families. Not gonna lie, having a party throw on my birthday was kinda amazing. Everyone made it such a big deal and I was looking more fancy than most. The despedida was fun, albeit bittersweet. Caitlin, Audrey, Elianis, Crisyei, and I all did the macarena in front of everyone.

After the despedida we continued the birthday festivities at my house. Liv, Sam, Audrey, Caitlin, and Carlo all came over and we played old playlists from highschool while drinking gree apple vodka out of a water bottle. The running joke is that it was actually my 17th birthday because everything in the training community feels like being in highschool again. We danced and sang and all ate cake afterwards. My mom asked if I wanted to invite more trainees and when I said no she laughed really hard. Then I called Chloe which was a MISTAKE because then I got really sad that she wasn't there too. I was sitting with these 5 people who are so amazing and two months ago I didn't know them and now I couldn't picture my life without them but it still felt like chlo was missing from the equation.

All around, an incredible birthday, I feel so loved and it was fun to dress up even if it was a little ridiculous.

Today: championship baseball game!

Audrey, Caitlin, and I all went into Chorerra with our family to watch my brother, Elian, play at the championship baseball game. Its a new stadium for the major league but for the championship game they got to play there. He was SO excited when he found out we were coming. Olivia and Sam met us there. Elian is OBSESSED with Sam so you could just see him glowing that we all showed up with his whole family. We all got super into the game...for the first 2 hours and then we were wondering why the fuck the coach hadn't put Elian in once. Elian is so good at baseball he's been asked to play on an elite team during the season, and during today's game he was not put on the field once....I asked my family and they were livid. They've had issues with the director in the past and the vibe is he's resentful of Elian and the other player who have been asked to join this elite team. Obviously I don't know the whole story but he's a child and whatever your issue is, don't take it out on him. They brutally lost the game and when we got home elian was crying because he was so embarrassed that all of us came and he didn't play. I'm still so upset about it, not that I didn't see him play, I see him play everyday, but that he was caught in the crossfire's of adults.

After the game Liv, Caitlin, Sam, Audrey and I went out for birthday margs and lemme tell you, Passion fruit margs??? They go down real smooth, especially with some extra shots. So then Audrey and I went grocery shopping...bad idea. Put me in the American grocery store while drunk, yikes. I asked Audrey if I should get the peanut butter m&M's, the sour candy, the Milano dark chocolate cookies, or the extra cheddar goldfish and she said "it was your birthday yesterday....all of them?" So that was all the convincing I needed.

Then tonight was sam's mom's birthday so I went to her party because it's our last like real night here. After some more beer and wine I ended up on top of my usual hill looking at the stars.

Not sure if you've noticed but I use some combination of Audrey, Carlo, Caitlin, Liv, and Sam in every sentence. (I miss Ahmet daily, we facetimed him for my birthday party) I'm going to be gutted and I'm one of the lucky ones, I'm keeping two out of the 5 of them. After Wednesday, guaranteed no seeing them for 3 months. It's been the craziest codependency for the last 10 weeks, followed by isolation for the next 2 years. All five of them made yesterday one of the best birthdays Ive had and I'm just going to know them for the rest of my life.

Fittingly, on my last day in the states I was up until 3 am writing a blog post. Much like I am right now on my (2nd to) last night in Los Mortales. Tomorrow is packing and saying goodbye to everyone. Pictures to follow

[devondeal]

Could I have 8 and 9 as well as 14 and 15 for the Barrissoka asks if you haven’t done those?

Of course! Thank you so much @stellanslashgeode! I already did 8 in a previous ask by jedimasterbailey but I can easily copy and paste it 😊

8. What do the Clones think about their relationship?

Rex is def Ahsoka's wingman and covers for her much like he does for Anakin. Poor man has a notebook full of excuses for them. But he adores their relationship and is happy Ahsoka could find solace in someone during a miserable war.

Gree loves how Barriss seems looser and more relaxed when Ahsoka is around so he is all for it and gives Barriss all the tips for the best places in town to take a lady out.

9. Ahsoka's favorite thing about Barriss.

Ahsoka's favorite thing about Barriss in my opinion is how gentle Barriss is. She loves how careful and calculated she is because it shows just how deep the woman cares. And since helping people is Ahsoka's priority, she admires Barriss for this quality. Especially since while Ahsoka has the best of intentions, she can still come off a bit rough around the edges.

14. What is Ahsoka's idea of a perfect date?

Ahsoka's perfect date would be to take her lady to the roof of the Jedi Temple and look at the city lights and stargaze if it's even possible to find stars on Coruscant and have some s'mores over a safe lil bonfire while laying in a roomy sleeping bag together.

15. What is Barriss's idea of a perfect date?

Barriss's perfect date would be inviting Ahsoka to her room for an intimate dinner she prepared. Because of the war, they don't get to spend too much time together so Barriss prefers a more private, closed doors type thing so they can really enjoy each other's company without overhearing any war propaganda, status updates, or anything that could trigger their separation anxiety. Just cozy times.

#stellanslashgeode #barrissoka ask game #barrissoka

[gourmet-trash]

Look I dunno anything abt Minecraft either so. WJAT TO YOU MEAN ITS NOT BRIAN WITH A G???

OMGGGGG as;dlkfjaf hahahahaha this is my new favorite thing. it literally never occurred to me that if you'd never heard it spoken, the default pronunciation might be "Brian with a G"

it's actually pronounced like "GREE-ann"! but please keep on keeping on, anon, because this is fucking delightful

#BRIAN WITH A G #STILL TICKLED PINK OVER THIS #asking for a friend #hermitcraft #hermitblr #grian

[ninjigma]

October 2023 - Gree! (Part 1) Track: 'Not Just a Machine - Kara' - Philip Sheppard (Spotify / YouTube)

The first of my Gree pieces for this month, and yes, it is a Detroit: Become Human AU folks! I love the game so much, and since I plan to celebrate my favorite clone on behalf of my birthday month and my favorite spooky season, I just had to add him to this AU that I have been pinging around in my head lately. And this piece turned out looking so much cooler then I thought it would, so I am excitedly sharing it first :3

Enjoy!

View pieces early on my Patreon!

#Oct2023 Gree #yes it is designed like the magazines in the game #figured it would be a fun choice #and was happily correct #I just love him so much your honor #can't wait to create more for him #when I... find some more time XD #I swear the days are flying past and I am behind on everything #but we keep trying #do it for him #we love him #october 2023 #detroit become human au #clone commander gree #my art #star wars #clones wars #detroit become human

[bleachbleachbleach]

toshiro : i dont like the heat.

also toshiro : [wears 4 layers at minimum]

I'm going to answer these together, because I think my responses dovetail. Here's my disclaimer: Hitsugaya is my runaway favorite character in Bleach! I love him! But my tastes where Hitsugaya is concerned are a lot more narrow than other things I love in Bleach. This is 100% to my detriment, because it means there's a lot less content for me to enjoy. Hitsugaya Fashion is absolutely not one of the things I enjoy. XDDDDD

TO THE HITSUGAYA FASHION ENJOYERS, THOUGH, HAVE AT IT. HAVE MY TICKET TO THE GALA; I DON'T WANT IT. I STILL LOVE YOU!

But I think all the fashion moments are the worst fashion moments; any deviation from the norm is a bad deviation to my eyes. I am not going to look these up because I do not want to see them but:

the one gree card where he is a Catholic choir angel: You think this guy is gonna show up for choir practice?? a drain on the operation. Plus this kid doesn't know anything about Jesus

any of the ones where he is shirtless: NOT DRESS CODE APPROPRIATE. Detention for 1000 years.

that maroon blazer that can fit a hoodie and three more layers under it: You'd think that if I don't like it when there's not enough clothes, then having ALL THE CLOTHES would be a safe swing of the pendulum, but this is not the case, because what blazer on earth. I refuse to believe you can have a blazer that tapers like that but can fit a hoodie. Fake fashion!

all the outfits where he looks like he wishes he were an extra in 8 Mile: you may not be able to have shit in Detroit, but Hitsugaya, you cannot have Detroit

Sternritter uniform: mostly because this one makes me wonder whether Giselle dressed (and undressed) him, or whether zombie Hitsugaya dressed himself, and I would prefer to have gone my whole life without ever wondering that

Maybe the real reason why I hate Hitsugaya Fashion is that in my mind, he does not care about Living World fashion and cannot be bothered to select anything or think about what is "taste" or "personal style" or anything else Matsumoto parrots out of magazines, so it is what it is. I don't think he's the kind of person who minds not knowing things about things he's not interested in, and I think he is perfectly content to be incurious and never think about them so that he can be relentlessly curious about things that do interest him. But I hate Hitsugaya Fashion because there's an equally likely chance that he likes all these outfits and thinks they're fly af. And if that's the truest, real-est reality, then I would have no choice but to kill him.

It's a very tragic problem I have!

#hitsugaya toushirou #asks #thank you for the ask! #no brain just bleach #sorry this is so late. we are very bad at this

[whump-town]

Finger Painting 

this is my pre-season one haley and hotch fic. they're cute I think. it's v sweet (okay not entirely). hotch is painting haley a house <3

word count: 5,000

---------------------------

“I don’t really care what color it is but I’ve just never seen a green–”

“Sage green.”

“Sage green,” Hotch repeats, raising his hands up to show Haley he means nothing by the slip-up. Yesterday she’d cried after showing him the green she’d chosen to paint the house and he’d said, simply, huh, that’s a funny color. She’d cried for what felt like hours and Hotch had no idea what was the right or wrong thing to say. It seemed every time he opened his mouth, no matter what he said, she’d begin to cry. Hotch had no idea why she was showing him the paint strip sample before but he should have known better and he's been paying for it since. 

Today he thinks rage has replaced tears, he’s not sure he prefers either option. Hotch isn’t sure, either, that  you can have pregnancy hormones before the pregnancy but trying to get pregnant had seemed to fill Haley with a hormonal range he didn’t think he’d encounter yet. And she’d definitely hit him if he suggested taking a pregnancy test right now so he bites his tongue for now. “If you want a gree– sage green house, I’ll paint you a sage green house.”

Haley narrows her eyes at him, arms crossed tight on her chest. Hotch had never considered himself someone easily frightened but he’d never been so afraid of someone with blonde pigtails. He’s over a half a foot taller than her and she seems rather harmless in her sundress but looks can be so, so deceiving. Physically he could take her, toss her over his shoulder or pin her, but as Aaron, the man she lawfully married despite disapproval from her family, he’d pay severely. 

Hotch approaches Haley slowly, smiling when she lets him get close enough to hug. He tests the waters with a kiss to her cheek and when she doesn’t turn away Hotch wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling her in against him. “I love you,” he reminds her with a squeeze, glancing down at her from the corner of his eye. “If you want a sage green house then so do I.” It takes Haley a moment, she gives a sniffle and finally her arms slide across his back. Hotch smiles when Haley leans her head against his shoulder.  “And, you know, green is my favorite color. You could have picked grass green and I’d be happy.” 

Haley huffs but he can hear that it’s just a stifled laugh. She looks up at him, eyes red and teary, “green isn’t your favorite color.”

“You’re right,” Hotch agrees with a small sigh, he’s aiming for dramatic but he’s the town’s worst pirate #3 in history for a reason. Haley laughs anyways, he’s an accidently funny man. An acquired taste. “I would’ve preferred pink but if you want sage green, I’ll paint the whole house sage green. The cabinets. The door. Do you want green windows? They got this plastic film you can stick to the glass–” Hotch looks down, cutting himself off as Haley starts to laugh. He smiles hard, lips moving to their own accord, tugged up tight. He can’t speak around it, can hardly maintain the point he’d been making at the sound of her muffled laughter. “A whole house,” he gets out, shrugging. “Whatever you want.”

She wants a sage green house, so Hotch does as he’s told. He disappears to the backyard, fumbling and crashing around for three hours, and gets exceptionally little done. Haley watches him from the kitchen, rubbing a dish towel over dry dishes so she has an excuse to keep an eye on him. She ignores the avalanche that comes down in the garage, she could hear him shouting and kicking in frustration at the mess – alive and moving. He tripped over the paint tray on the porch and got paint everywhere, so she brought him something to clean it up and some sweet tea. 

Haley has found real dishes to wash when a streak of silver falls from the sky and something large slams into the ground with a metallic clatter. 

Hotch lays on the ground, eyes pinched tight as his body cramps. His lungs feel like bruised weights inside his chest, every muscle in his body tight as he fails to convince his body to bring air into itself. He doesn’t hear Haley come running out of the house – for a moment, Hotch is convinced he’s managed to kill himself. The sun throws a dark shadow over Haley’s face when she leans over him, peaking through her hair. She looks like she’s glowing. 

Oh fuck, he’s killed himself on a ladder. 

“Aaron?” Haley. 

That makes so much more sense. 

Hotch pushes himself upright with one hand, pulling the other to his chest, pressing his other palm into the weight pressing up under the side of his ribs. “I’ll–” Hotch gasps at his words, still fighting air into his body, “I’ll have to– to get you a new – more paint.” 

The tray lays on it’s side in a pile of green goopy paint. Haley had followed his green footsteps through the yard and she can see on the ladder where his wet shoe had slipped on the metal rung of the ladder.

Haley gets Hotch up into a lawn chair – which surprises him, as she supports a great deal more of his weight than he thought she could. Moving makes his head throb and he doesn’t realize how wrong time is moving until Haley presses cold tea into his hand and an icepack up against his side. 

Haley knows the name of a company to call to do the painting, she knows her father would know plenty more and maybe cheaper options. But Hotch is just stubborn, simply put. And also a trouble magnet. Haley had seen Hotch masterfully work through an unexpected pinch with astonishing flexibility and ease. Trouble just seems to hunt Hotch down,  little accidents here and there. Socks on the hardwood floor. Bruises on his shins. Scratches on his hands. He seemed to never know where they came from and Haley believes him. She’d watched him once just walk right into the counter. A counter Haley felt she could navigate in the dark. Blind she would that counter was there. And yet Hotch run his hip right into it’s corner. 

Hotch goes back to painting the next day, walking a little hunched but painting. He paints for four hours until they start phoning. It’s Derek, so Haley feels a little more inclined to relay his messages. He’s nice and she tells him that Aaron is painting the house right now but he’ll be in when he can, he’ll need a shower. Derek promises to come help paint when they get back, apologizing for nabbing her husband once again on such short notice. 

Hotch cannot shower away all the paint he’s managed to get on himself in the last two days. Morgan picks on Hotch for the sage green dried into his nail beds, in the little creases on the inside of his wrists, and stuck in his hair. He’s measures cleaner than he had been when Haley went to get him. Hotch had managed to smear it across his nose, likely wiping at sweat with his hand. His hands also covered in paint – as if he’d abandoned using a brush at all and thought he’d turn his task into a finger painting project. 

Haley hears nothing from anyone on Wednesday and she starts to get scared. Aaron phones everyday, all the time. Thursday, Haley is out in the front yard when Derek Morgan’s car turns onto the road. The only thing that stops her legs from giving out beneath her is Aaron in the front seat. The sun hits the windshield just right, lighting up the inside of the car so that Haley can see that he’s fallen asleep. He’s alive. 

Haley drops the things in her hand, forgotten before they even hit the ground, as she jogs across the yard. She runs over the little flowers spread through the grass, not worried about where her barefeet might land amongst the bees pollinating. 

“Is he okay?” Haley watches Derek crouch down by the side of the car and wake Hotch up, twisting her fingers against one another as Derek goes largely unheard. She breathes for the first time when Hotch opens his eyes, it takes him a moment. Glassy eyes focus on Derek as he speaks but he says her name and Hotch looks up at Haley with a loopy smile. 

Once he’s standing, Haley can see the damage done a little better. Derek props him up on crutches, messing with his clothes so his sweatshirt isn’t bunched up and the bottom of his sweatpants are back down at his ankles. 

“Sorry,” Derek says, once his mission is complete. He gives Hotch’s back a pat and smiles when Hotch takes his cue – a slow, experimental step forward. Haley steps up to Hotch’s side, closer as he tries to walk. Derek leaves them, shutting the passenger door and going back around the side of the car. “Going to the hardware stores really wiped him out but we couldn’t find that green you wanted in the first one. So we had to go to two.” 

The rage Haley had felt for all the missed calls, no up-dates from anyone, abaits just a little. One intense emotion washed out by the confrontation of a newer, harder one. Tears spring to Haley’s eyes as Hotch glances over at her. “You went to get me more paint?” she asks Hotch, she wants to take his hand, to hold him or kiss him or maybe shake him really hard. 

Hotch’s left ankle is wrapped in a brace boot, grey from his toes to just below his knee. When he smiles at her the scab on his lip splits, “gotta paint your house.”

Haley shakes her head.

Morgan clears his throat and Haley sniffles, pulling her hands away from Hotch and wiping at her eyes. “Derek,” she says, dabbing at the bottoms of her eyes. “You can put those down anywhere.” Haley waves to the porch, motions for him follow her.

Morgan shurgs, “nah if you just point me in the direction, I can just get to painting.” 

Haley glances at Hotch and then back to Morgan. “No,” she says, “no, no, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” Morgan repositions the weight of the paint cans in his hands with a shrug of his shoulders, flexing his fingers around the handles. He comes up beside Hotch, slipping past them both as he heads up the stairs. “Straight back, Hotch?”

It’s a nice warm day so Haley leaves Hotch out in the yard with Morgan. He’s alright up on the ladder by the time Haley gets Hotch to back yard. Hotch had left most of the paint things together, finding the ladder wasn’t that hard – it’d been abandoned against the side of the house. 

“You need some time in the sun,” Haley says. “Natural medicine and you’re starting to get startingly pale again.” Haley would have Aaron however he came, no matter what happened to him. But… at a certain point every few months, he stops going outside as much. The cold seeps in everywhere and it’s just comfortable tucked up by the fire in the living room, reading. Haley loves finding him sleeping out on the couch – it both annoys her within the depth of her soul to see him so at peace but also, it’s nice to find him sleeping, resting. That being said, without the sun, his skin begins to pale an alarming sheet white. She’d watch him undress and be shocked to silence watching his black dress pants peel back and reveal the translucent white flesh underneath. That… she would fix. 

Hotch pouts, stumbling a little in the grass, “but I’m not sick.” 

Haley leaves Hotch with two iced teas, one for Morgan, and he naps out on a lawn chair. She comes out frequently to check on them, bringing Morgan snacks as she does. He eats more fruit and sandwiches than he has in a long time. Morgan takes his snacks down in the shade, sharing slices of apple or orange as Hotch cracks his eyes open to find the source of noise. Hotch doesn’t stir much but Morgan uses his vague awareness to talk. Hotch is easy to talk to like this. His sore leg is propped up on a stool and pillow, a blanket pulled to the top of his chin. The words he says are mumbled and nonsense but Morgan doesn’t mind the company. 

Derek reaches over and taps Hotch’s knee, waiting for Hotch to start blinking himself away and make that sleep frown off to the side until he’s present enough to move his head and find Derek. “Another orange,” Derek tells him, putting half of a slice in the palm of the hand Hotch has left out of the blanket, resting on his lap. Derek hadn’t seen Hotch eat anything while they were in Wisconsin and he and Haley had the same goal of pressing the snacks on him. 

Hotch focuses on Morgan for a long second, blinking once slowly as he processes what’s been said. Orange. He likes oranges better than apples. The first piece Derek handed him was just a whole slice – a top corner of the apple Derek had cut the skin mostly off of. Hotch had held that slice in his hand for nearly an hour, taken nearly three bites of it. Stealthy, Haley had taken the hot, mushy apple from Hotch’s hand – he hadn’t realized he didn’t finish it yet. After that Derek has controlled the size of what he hands to Hotch a little more. Pieces only the size of one bite. 

After this orange, Hotch has two-fourths of an apple waiting for him. 

“What time is it?” Derek is a little surprised by the coherence of Hotch’s suddenly found voice. He’s been getting grunts for hours as yes and no but Haley had gotten the softest whispers – clearly, there was a very unfair hierarchy happening. 

Derek glances down at his watch, “five-thirty.”

Hotch grunts.

Every twenty minutes Haley comes out to tuck ice or a heating pad against Hotch’s back, and Morgan excuses himself so she can have privacy to worry over Hotch freely. It’s a good schedule, plenty of breaks for all involved. Morgan feeds Hotch two or three pieces of whatever snack Haley brought him and Haley comes out and makes him drink something, a few sips. 

At six, Haley calls them in for dinner. Hotch falls asleep again at the table but he fights a hard fight for five minutes. Haley and Derek whisper and joke, careful not to startle the sleeping bomb starting to drool on the hand propping his head up. 

Morgan stays to help Hotch up the stairs and sees himself out, leaving them to do as they need. 

Showering is first. Haley thinks her best bet is keeping Hotch standing, it’s hard to fall asleep standing. He does it, though. 

Semi-delirious on his night-meds, Hotch whispers as coherent a version of the accident as he can remember. Which isn’t much. It happened quickly, nothing that predictable. He and Derek had just come up a staircase when Hotch took a round to the chest, tripping, he’d stumbled down the stairs. After that, he knows only what Gideon told him – that Derek had carried him out the house over his shoulder to medical attention. He woke up in the hospital. 

Haley explores the bruise across his chest carefully with just the tips of her fingers. Touching the hot, swollen purple skin. “I don’t like it when you get hurt.”  

“I don’t like it either”

Haley lays her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes so that she doesn’t speak. Refraining from asking him something she knows he can’t do. 

He could be killed doing this job. 

Haley didn’t just want a child. She would raise a child. She would love a child. Haley wanted partnership, raising a child with him. A teenager with Hotch’s awkward height. A baby that babbles mama at him regardless of his repetition of dada. A child that thinks he hung the moon in the sky, that thinks there’s nothing she and Aaron can’t do. And they could not have any of that if his job killed him. It could happen at any moment and she’s certain she wouldn't find out immediately. 

Haley can’t stand the thought that Hotch might take his last breath in a state he didn’t think to tell her the name of in one of his rushes out the front door. He could leave this world in a city she’d never heard of and Haley wouldn’t know for hours after. 

She couldn’t imagine the idea of it. Couldn’t part from the horror of it. 

Hotch had become an extension of her. He walked around with her whole life in his head, tucked into his memories and actions. He was an entire part of her and Haley could not imagine the possibility of his death being so far from her, so separate from her own. 

Hotch takes a week to recover – Gideon doesn’t call once but Derek shows up early from the office to meet Hotch wherever he’s found himself trying or failing to paint. Adjusting to the world through the strain of a concussion and on crutches, Hotch works slow and Derek is covering the most ground. Hotch masters balancing on one crush and using the paint roller, working in short intervals – he’s doing his best. 

Despite hours of work, Hotch got only the side of the house done. That’s half of a house, but none of Haley’s sage green managed to come around to the front. Anyone seeing the house would only see the white paint. 

–––––––––––––––

Haley has never been to Boston Massachusetts. She knows where it is on the map, every state Aaron has ever marched off to – she knows where it is, how to get there. When this had all first started, Dave would buy her a ticket anytime Aaron got hurt. No matter how bad, if Dave knew she could be on a plane to there before they would be released from the hospital, Haley would have the plane ticket out there. Aaron didn’t get smarter about running into danger but Gideon got better at knowing when and how Aaron would do it. 

Haley has never been to Massachusetts. 

The year they moved from Seattle to Washington D.C., Haley and Hotch spent Christmas as Dave’s. Gideon showed late with a pie and the four of them made nice small talk. Haley didn’t mind Gideon, he was sweet, but David Rossi… no, that one she didn’t trust. Because she liked him, she didn’t trust him. But by the end of the night Hotch, exhausted from moving their entire lives across the country on such short notice, fell asleep early. Sleeping or not, Hotch provided a comfortable barrier between her and them. By the end of the night she was laughing along with them, agreeing that Hotch’s doorknob confessions always had a way of being catastrophic. 

Haley gasps with Hotch pulls her around to kiss her goodbye. It’s hard, quick. 

“Going to Boston!” he says, stumbling over the strap of his go-bag as he walks. “You should–” he turns back around before he runs into the door. “I love you,” Hotch stops, looks around himself to make sure his keys are in his hands and his wallet and badge in his pockets. “Okay,” he nods at her, smiling. “I love you! If you have any tests left, you just check. If you don’t have anymore call me and I’ll bring some home!” 

Just like that. 

The front door shut behind him. 

Hotch boards last on the jet, hobbling a little awkwardly still with the rounded bottom of the boot he hasn’t yet managed to convince his doctors he doesn’t need anymore. It’s slowing him down. He’s got things to do. 

Bombs are going off. People are dying. Hotch calls Haley every few hours and she entertains them with local news. She knows they’re all listening in so she reads the article about the little league baseball team winning their game. Gideon’s voice comes in every one in a while to ask about something specific and she reads Hotch and Reid a few of the crossword prompts. 

Haley’s good morning call doesn’t come and then there’s nothing at lunch either. 

Haley promised Aaron to stay away from reports on news about cases. It would be the worse way to find out something has happened. Derek calls at three, as Haley’s patience has been thoroughly plucked. She’s sitting on the couch when he calls, the remote in her hand. 

Two identical critical patients. 

Haley’s never been to Boston before but it’s cold, freezing like she knew it’d be. 

“Gideon couldn’t tell,” Derek speaks softly, tears drying on his face. “He– He–” Derke doesn’t even know what he’s saying. He knows what he should be saying but the words just aren’t coming. He just can't say them. He can’t say them. 

“I’ll be able to tell.”

She would never mistake him. She’d know by the hitch in his breaths at night, the way his hands hold her face. She’d know him if he couldn’t make a sound at all, just by the wind that carries him in. The hair that’s fallen from his head. The shape of his back. By a patch of skin. 

All she needs is his hand. The left is mess, wrapped tight and thick with white gauze. His fingers stained with iodine and swollen. Haley isn’t sure until she holds his hand, turning herself slightly and pushing his stiff fingers back from his palm. She runs her finger up his palm, the same lines she’d traced at fifteen with a giggle and a crush. She finds the M palm line, the depth she’s always imagine carved into the bark of a tree to be preserved for a lifetime. 

Picking up his broken hand to hold it in her own, she needs to make sure her eyes weren’t betraying her. But it's her sage green on his nails, her sage green still in his hair, and dried to his skin. Through broken bones and burns, but here was her sage green. She’d never loved that silly color so much. 

Haley laughs a little and Derek steps closer to the bed, concerned by the tears pouring down Haley’s face.

“What?” he asks.

“He’s still covered in paint.”

–––––––––––––––

#anyway and that's the story of how haley died before hotch could paint her a green house #peace homies #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #derek morgan #david rossi #criminal minds fanfiction #haley hotchner #spencer reid #jason gideon

[no-side-us]

Dracula Daily Liveblog: July 24 - Mina

Mina offers some descriptions of Whitby, so I thought I'd share some photographs of the place from "Bram Stoker's Notes for Dracula: A Facsimile Edition" :

"Bram Stoker's Notes for Dracula: A Facsimile Edition" is a book that compiles all of Stoker's notes and offers some explanations and history of the writing of the novel. It's pretty cool and I recommend people give it a look. Spoiler warning, obviously.

Ah, finally! It's Mr. Swales time! My favorite side character in the entire book. I love him and his nigh-incomprehensible "Yorkshire" accent, which for some reason Stoker decided to write out phonetically. Fortunately, my book has footnotes which translated some of his speech:

"I wouldn't fash masel' (trouble myself) about them, miss. Them things be all wore out. Mind, I don't say that they never was, but I do say that they wasn't in my time. They be all very well for comers and trippers, an' the like, but not for a nice young lady like you. Them feet-folks (tourists) from York and Leeds that be always eatin' cured herrin's an' drinkin' tea an' lookin' out to buy cheap jet would creed aught (believe anything). I wonder masel' who'd be bothered tellin' lies to them—even the newspapers, which is full of fool-talk."

"I must gang ageeanwards (go towards) home now, miss. My grand-daughter doesn't like to be kept waitin' when the tea is ready, for it takes me time to crammle aboon the grees (go upstairs), for there be a many of 'em; an', miss, I lack belly-timber (food) sairly (sorely) by the clock."

I also love the implication that in-story, since it's Mina writing all this, she has decided to write things out phonetically for some reason.

#dracula daily #liveblogging dracula 2022 #mina murray #lucy westenra #mr swales #dracula #bram stoker

[rexxdjarin]

quick lil snippet from the captain’s log prequel probably midway through Rex and Mari’s relationship.

When Mari really gets to meet and spend an extended amount of time with Cody for the first time, he has some thoughts and questions:

Cody sat at the round table, swirling his drink in his glass and observing the dark haired, voluptuous vixen of a woman sitting beside him. “So out of our millions of options, what made you choose my little brother? I know Fives was raving about you after that first night, too. Why Rex?”

Mari scoffed and laughed softly to herself, shaking her head because these clones still don’t seem to grasp just how special they truly are. “Your little brother…stars he’s so much more than that…” She faded off, turning in time to watch Rex pulling apart a fight between a shiny and a clearly grieving older generation brother.

He dusted the trooper from the 41st Elite Corps - one of Gree’s men - and sent him into a quiet booth in the corner to recoup. He then grabbed the shiny by the shoulder pauldron and shook him enough to sober him up before sitting him down and explaining the situation. He sent him off into a clearly livelier part of 79s to enjoy what little he could of his life while he still had the spring in his step.

Mari smiled to herself and sighed dreamily. “Your little brother…he fights for everyone,” She watched him making his rounds to check on his own men now, “even before himself.”

Cody nodded watching Rex and seeing exactly what she did. The selfless, quick-thinking, adaptable and capable leader he always saw he could be. “Yeah he’s a good man. The best. Always has been.”

Mari interrupted him, grabbing his hand, “but who fights for him?”

Cody read the deathly serious look of highly emotive concern in her eyes. He could tell she worries. He could finally see that the fearless, outspoken and fiesty little thing did have one thing she feared. That her heart was in exactly the right place. He nodded his understanding, looking into her big, brown doe eyes just starting to water with tears. “Oh…I see.”

He turned to watch his blonde vod’ika, who had finally glanced over to check on where he’d left her and nodded a “you good?” Cody nodded curtly back, turning back to his present company. “You admire him.”

Mari looked at Cody and then looked away, clearly watching Rex make his way back to her slowly. She looked into her lap, portraying a sudden vulnerability and lack of confidence that was so not in line with the reputation that preceded her. “I think it’s more than admiration, Commander…”

And Cody for maybe the first time truly understood the depth of what was going on here. He hadn’t ever really experienced that for himself, but he’d watched it happen and read about it. Even seen it in the eyes of thousands he saved and reunited over the years of this war.

He didn’t know much about real civilian life. But now he knew one thing for certain…

Mari was in love with Rex.

No matter how dangerous it was. No matter how much they could both stand to lose, no matter how much it hurt at times, oh she loved him.

To Cody there was no act braver than the selfless love she had for Rex. In one conversation, she proved herself to the only people that mattered to him. Not that she needed to. She wanted to. In a galaxy where clones and their place in it were never even considered by everyday civilians, Mari thought only of protecting his very favorite little brother.

And that was more than good enough for him.

#pre captains log rex and mari #rex and mari🥺 #oc: mari vontas #captain rex x oc mari vontas #captain rex x oc #still unnamed captain’s log prequel