#I will stick by this for the rest of my life

[natalienomad]

1. Rivaini

2. chaotic good, there with the good morals but damn if it ain't weird as shit to get there

3. Elf and Deathcaller Mage. I figured a Lord of Fortune would be chill with spirit magic.

4. Relaxing at a graveyard in Rivain. Possibly digging up corpses looking for loot, and maybe a companion or two.

5. Oh sarcastic! If you're a necromancer ya gotta have a lil giggles in ya to be around the LoF.

6. Davrin. Hunting down monsters may not be Rooks jam, but petting a cute griffon? And saving griffons? Can't pass that up! Not to mention going on walks with tea that makes ya high sounds like a pleasant evening.

7. Emmy. My lil Richy. He needed someone to understand the spirits like him that wasn't from the Mourn watch. An outside perspective, with equal reverence for the spirits.

8. At first? Lucanis. Until he showed her coffee and rum go well together.

9. Oh no, Isabela thinks we're still too down to earth to really get into the thick of it. That's why she lends us Taash, to really get the fire going under the Veilguard.

10. Shes been known to take a few sticks and bang on rocks for a good time.

11. Staff. Staff Staff Staff. Make thing blow up? Make thing blow up Wayyyyyy over there? Yes please.

12. Asexual, with a Panromantic heart. If things happen, they happen. But the true goal? Is getting a kiss and really feeling it down in her chest.

13. Isnt necessarily evil, nor is it good. Simply a way of balancing the world. You live. You eat. You breathe. You die. ....though she may raise you afterwards.

14. She's a big nature hobbyist. Going out on walks, seeing the wildlife, trying to maintain that balance of life and death.

15. She liked Antoine and Evka right away. And her first hatred was with the Mayor of D'metas crossing. Trading life for gold was silly. You rob graves to get gold and raise them. Give them new life, not condemning them to a branded unlife.

16. Assan may be a good boy, but she's always wanted to have a few druffalo to tag along and help ferry her treasure and new friends.

17. It feels like she got tossed into the life, just by happenstance. She doesn't mind, tho she detests the leadership she has to take on, it weighs on her.

18. More than likely owning said druffalo caravan.

19. At an old age, after continuing our little Manny's training after my dapper guy passes on. One day I'll join him, after they dig his coffin up, and lay us to rest together. Knowing Manfred will become the greatest watcher of them all, a lich all his own.

20. It's a complex stance, she'd aid him in his freeing if the spirits, to take down a tyrant meant to enslave others. But to sacrifice those same spirits like a pawn? She'd feel regret and pity and shame and continue the fight, knowing it was the only way, but knowing this man also had to be toppled.

21. Hard to pick a favorite, she uses a healthy balance of fire, necrotic and ice. But if she had to pick one? The fire beam ulti.

22. Common, Elvhen and Qunari.

23. Ask Manfred to go on a walk.

24. Oh absolutely. Whether the skeletons we raise have a semblance of the original owner or just a spirit accessing the memories who's to say. But we certainly pass on, somewhere.

25. Oh Deathcaller for certain. She'd wish to dabble in Evoker, but being a powerhouse in the back that can wipe a wave of darkspawn out in seconds is a Good Feeling.

26. Herding Dog. Not a war dog. I have a job, and it's helping these nerds figure themselves out and point them in the right direction. And I'm happy to do so.

27. Traipsing along ancient burial grounds mostly. Going into town to sell said goods, share interesting stories I've heard from the spirits in the tombs.

28. Oh Rook is Alllllll too happy to let Isabela take the wheel. Literally and figuratively. The Lords are far more chaotic than Took could handle. She needs a good balance of crazy and semi crazy, and sane to help Her stay sane.

29. Mourn Watch. So I could've snuggled up to this kindly older man quicker! He's such a charmer!

30. Her carefree and loving nature that she expresses to herself and all her friends.

Rook Questionnaire

inspired by @cassieuncaged's BG3 Character Development Questions but for Rook instead!

1: Where in the Thedas is your Rook from?

2: What is your character's alignment?

3: Race and subclass?

4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?

5: What emotion did they usually pick?

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

7: Romantically close with?

8: Who are they suspicious of?

9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction?

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

11: Weapon of choice?

12: What is their orientation?

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

14: What hobbies does your Rook have?

15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike?

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric?

19: How do you think they'll meet their end?

20: Would they side with Solas or fight him?

21: What is your Rook's favorite ability?

22: What languages is your character fluent in?

23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?

25: What specialization best represents your Rook?

26: What animal best represents your Rook?

27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?

30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?

[v1sexual]

always forever , vi (arcane) part two

a collection of (modern) domestic life activities with vi ! college au , modern au , self indulgent

part one , part two , part three, part four soon !

note : this one sucks lol , i literally made this at work a couple of days ago and didn’t have the willpower to write a new one. anyways, hope u guys like it !

drabble two : its mariah carey season

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who was ecstatic when you suggested to decorate the flat for christmas. she and her family are not religious at all, but christmas is something that they celebrate every year without fail.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who went all out and spent around $500-$600 on christmas decorations and around $1000 for christmas gifts. (she bought like five different types of christmas lights, a 6 foot christmas three, and a lot of stuff she definitely didn’t need)

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who’d show off by carrying all the shopping bags in one go and would not let you help. “just doing my job shortcake,” she’d say as she opened the front door for you, her pinky visibly shaking as two heavy shopping bags hang off it.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who’d stop to look and admire you as you two decorated the christmas three. she watched, as you strategically placed the blue, green, and red baubles in a pattern so that they’re even distributed. it’s been a couple of days since you two kissed, an unofficial confession to how the two of you felt for each other. after that night you’ve shared countless of kisses (and a little bit of heaving petting here and there). but you guys haven’t really addressed what you two are, if this is a start of a relationship or just something casual (her bet is on the former though).

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who excused herself and told you she needed to go to the washroom but in reality she just needed an excuse to sneak off and set-up a mistletoe under your door, her door, and the bathroom door.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who basically barricaded the hallway to that leads to her and your room. she literally hung a white sheet in front of the hallway to hide what she’s planning.

“vi you’ve been there for two hours!” you whined, hand resting on your stomach. “i literally need to shit!”

vi popped her head out from behind the white sheet, “give me two minutes baby i’m almost finished.” she said then popped her head back in.

as much as you’d love to cuss out vi right now, you just couldn’t ignore the way your belly does flip flops the second she called you ‘baby’ (also the fact that it somehow made you no longer wanna shit).

approximately two minutes later vi popped her head out again, “close your eyes for me shortcake.” you sighed but closed your eyes anyways.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who quietly turned off the light. she intertwined her fingers with yours as she held the white sheet open and leads you towards the hallway.

“okay shortcake, open your eyes.”

a gasp left your lips as you opened your eyes. the hallway was illuminated in nothing but white christmas lights hanging from the ceiling, it looked like something out of a pinterest board. personalized wreaths hung outside your rooms (yours had books, a guitar, and all your favorite little things. then vi’s had a hockey stick, a rugby ball, and a pair of boxing gloves).

“do you like it?” vi asked quietly.

you didn’t say anything, eyes still focused on the hallway.

“i-i can take it down if you-“

you cut her off by basically jumping into her arms, you wrapped around her in a tight hug burying your face in the crook of her neck.

“i love it,” you whispered against her skin. vi smiled down on you, her hands situated under your legs to support your weight.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! whose face you showered in kisses when you broke free from the hug.

a dopey smile played on vi’s lips as she leaned against your palm, eyes fluttered shut as your lips met hers. she sighed contently, her hands rest on your hips her as her thumb rub circles against your clothed skin.

vi has never felt so happy, so content. she felt as though her heart would burst from how hard it pounded against her chest.

“i love you,” she said. “i don’t know if it’s too early to tell you, but i love you. i have for a while now, and i understand if-“

you cut her off by shortly pressing your lips against hers. “i love you too, violet.”

ꕀ extra !

“oh. my. god.” powder exclaimed. she gripped her phone tightly, re-reading the text her sister sent her.

ekko raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend, placing his guitar in it’s stand before walking towards his bed and plopping down next to her. “everything alright pow?”

powder didn’t say anything, instead she shoved her phone in ekko’s face. it took him a second to read the text but judging by the photo vi sent powder, he already knew what was up.

“can’t believe it took them this long to be honest.”

“cut them some slack little man,” powder rolled her eyes playfully before shooting vi a quick text. “it’s not like you’re any better.” she teased which made ekko roll his eyes.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” he replied, pressing a kiss to powder’s cheek.

[theemporium]

putting up the christmas tree with quinn hughes pls 🥰

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

series masterlist

.

“You really didn’t have to come.”

“Did you not want me here?” 

“I—no. Wait, yes but—”

“It’s your family’s Christmas tradition,” Quinn interrupted, shooting you a look that felt more amused than exasperated. “Did you really think I was going to miss it?”

“You have a game in two days,” you deadpanned. 

“This may surprise you but I am aware of that fact,” Quinn retorted, his lips twitching upwards when you lightly smacked his arm in response. But he caught your hand before you could pull back, pulling you closer to him. “Babe, I wasn’t gonna miss this for the world. We used to join in all the time when we were kids.”

“Yes. When we were kids. And weren’t proper adults with proper jobs that require proper rest,” you grumbled. “Plus, my parents don’t care. It’s been years since—”

“It has been years but this year is different,” Quinn acknowledged with a small nod. “This year, I’m more than just a family friend. I’m your boyfriend. I want us to be a part of each other’s lives and traditions, even if it means flying out in the middle of a three day break just for one event. You’re important to me and I want to show that.”

Your face softened completely, something in your chest tightening at the small but genuine smile on his lips. “Fuck, now I look like a dick for trying to make you stay with the team.”

Quinn huffed out a laugh. “It’s cute you care about the team so much.” 

“They are a part of your life,” you countered, throwing his own words back at him. “Of course I care about them.” 

Quinn’s smile widened. “See? You’re starting to get it.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, playfully rolling your eyes before shoving him in the direction of the door. “If you wanna help, you can go help grab all the boxes from the garage.” 

It didn’t take too long for all the boxes to be brought into the house, stacked up in the living room before your mother started allocating everyone jobs. You shrieked when Quinn slipped his cold hands under your shirt, sending a shock through your system before you shoved him away and pushed the tangled Christmas lights into his hands as retaliation. The boy only grinned wider in response.

Memories flashed through your mind about spending Christmas with the Hughes family when you were younger and lived right next door. Your parents always taking over the decorating once the rest of you got bored, the tantrums and arguments on who got to put the star at the top, the cookies that Luke always managed to get an extra one of (your mother always gave in to his puppy dog eyes). 

Those memories were fond but you think you liked this better, watching the way Quinn joked around with your family and took the playful chirps in good stride before dishing them out just as good. It felt different to your childhood, it felt like a new tradition that you were eager to do every year in the future. 

“My side looks way better than yours,” Quinn stated confidently as he settled into the spot next to you, his arm thrown over your shoulders to tug you into his side with ease. 

You snorted, lightly elbowing him. “You’re lucky you’re good at hockey because your eye for detail is abysmal.” 

“College girl showing off her fancy vocabulary,” Quinn teased before leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “S’fine, I’ve got years to practice. Your parents are going to be begging for me to decorate the whole tree alone in no time.” 

You shook your head fondly. “So humble.”

He beamed. “Always.”

“Stick to your day job, Hughes.” 

“I take it back, I’m not sharing my cookies with you anymore.”

.

[florestalio]

DAYDREAM — L.HS

GENRE: pwp. i would say more, but i wanna keep the plot (or lack thereof) a secret

SYNOPSIS: where heeseung gets the best head of his life... or does he?

WARNINGS: (1.6k words) 18+, oral (m! rec), hair pulling, throat fucking, throat bulging, cum eating, let me know if I missed any!

NOTE, daydream — "sip, sip, sip, make me empty". yep. that's it.

HEESEUNG LOOKED DOWN AT YOU WITH A SMIRK. God, you looked so fucking pretty right now, on your knees.

All for him.

His eyes raked over your pliant body shamelessly, licking his lips at the sight of one of the spaghetti straps of your cute white tank top having slid down your shoulder. Your tits were practically on display for him, since you chose not to wear a bra, your nipples having hardened, peaking through the thin material of your top. Your top was, to his perverse enjoyment, a low cut one, allowing him to see the top half of your tits.

Fuck, they were perfect. Just like the rest of you.

The way he was leaning back on the couch, his legs spread wide apart, one arm looped over the top of the couch, an extremely sexy smirk on his face — safe to say, he wasn't the only one turned on right now.

While he was sporting a rock hard boner, you yourself were rubbing your thighs together, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your folds. Your hands were clenching the material of his jeans on his thighs, an unintentional pout on your face.

Heeseung noticed, of course, cooing at you mockingly, at the sight of your pout. “Aw, are you feeling impatient? Want my dick down your throat that bad?”

Normally, you would be embarrassed by such vulgar words. But right now? Right now you were too horny to give a fuck about the language.

You nodded your head in a lust-driven frenzy, more slick gushing out of you. You needed him in you, anyway, anywhere — you just needed him.

His smirk widened at your answer. He didn't do anything yet, but you were already so pliant for him? What would happen when he actually did something?

He relaxed further into the couch, raising his eyebrows at you, the ever so cocky smirk not leaving his face. “Well? What are you waiting for then? Get on with it.”

Your eyes lit up at that, your hands flying to his zipper at lightning speed, clumsily trying to get rid of the barriers. You pulled down his waistband, the imprint of his cock very much visible through his boxers, a wet patch of precum accompanying it. As if in a trance, you started tracing its shape over the thin material.

His reaction was almost immediate. He let out a loud groan, throwing his head back on the sofa, his hips bucking into your hand. Encouraged by his reaction, you pressed your hand completely on him, starting to slowly palm him.

Heeseung had to bite down on his lip to muffle his sounds, his eyes hooded, as he watched you further rile him up. It was infuriating and hot at the same time. Unfortunately, he was starting to grow impatient from your teasing, causing him to push away your hand and grab a fistful of your hair instead, pulling your hair back. He sneered at you. “Have you had your fun yet? Get to work darling, or you might get into a lot of trouble. Trust me, I wouldn't be gentle about it.”

You gulped, nodding slowly, the sting from where your hair was being pulled causing your eyes to water. He let go of your hair, leaning back again. You grabbed the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down. His cock sprang out, tall and proud. He let out a hiss as the cold air touched it, his mushroom tip an angry red colour, leaking a generous amount of precum.

You grabbed the base of his cock, using your other hand to grab the tip, spreading his precum around it with your thumb. His eyes rolled back in his head at the feeling, his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth to stop his moans from spilling out.

You had started to almost salivate the moment you saw his dick in all its glory, the urge to wrap your lips around it going through the roof. But you wanted to take your time with him. That's what you were here for, after all — to worship him.

You gave his tip a tentative lick, feeling it twitch in your hands, a muffled groan falling from his lips. Encouraged by his reaction, you started to give his tip kitten licks, leaving kisses along his entire length. You could see his chest rise and fall at a fast pace, his ragged breathing causing your pussy to throb with incessant need.

Unable to hold yourself back anymore, you took one hand off him, collecting a wad of spit in your mouth, before spitting it in your palm. You used your spit to rub his length, the mixture of your spit and his precum making the glide easier. You then finally wrapped your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around it, the salty taste of his precum invading your senses, leaving you dazed.

Impatient from your teasing, he grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail, before pushing your head down on him completely, causing his dick to hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag. Your hands flew to his thighs, gripping them tightly, as you steadied yourself. 

You relaxed your jaw, slowly starting to bob your head up and down on his length, feeling the way he kept twitching in your mouth, despite not yet being close — although, you were more than happy to change that.

You relaxed your jaw and throat as best as possible, before taking him in deeper. His mushroom tip hit the back of your throat, causing him to choke lightly. He groaned at the feeling of your throat muscles contracting around his tip, causing him to buck his hips into your mouth — a huge mistake on his part, his cock having lodged itself further into your throat, the warm feeling causing him to let out a loud guttural moan.

He grabbed the back of your head again, quickly mumbling an apology to you. “‘M so sorry baby — but I need to fuck your mouth — will literally die if I don't–”

Before you could even register what was happening, you felt a sting at the back of your head, as his grip tightened on your hair. Suddenly, the air was completely knocked out of your lungs, as he started to harshly thrust into your mouth, fucking it as if it were your pussy.

Your nails dug into his thighs, drawing blood, although it did nothing to deter him. You could feel your eyes watering, tears falling in a steady stream from both of your eyes, drool falling from the corner of your lips. Heeseung noticed all of it in his lust driven haze, cooing at your pathetic appearance.

There was a bulge in your throat everytime he abused it, something you were glad that he was yet to notice. You could feel the vein on the underside of his cock pulsing, the pace of his thrusts increasing substantially as he chased his pleasure.

He grabbed your jaw in his other hand, squishing your cheeks together to make them hollow out further. His thrusts became erratic, his head falling back with a loud moan. “C-Cumming!–”

Suddenly, he pushed your head all the way down on him, your nose touching his pelvis. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, his jaw going slack. He shot rope after rope of cum straight into your mouth, your mouth helping him ride out his mind-blowing orgasm.

You finally pulled off his softening length, once he started squirming lightly from the overstimulation, swallowing every drop, careful to not spill anything. You opened your mouth wide, sticking out your tongue for him to check, getting a tired nod of approval.

He leaned back on the couch, breathing heavily, his mind reeling from the feeling of your amazing mouth. Without even realising, his eyes started closing, lulling him into a deep, much needed, sleep.

“OH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE, WAKE UP!”

Heeseung woke up with a start, wide eyes staring into your own angry ones in shock. Your hands were on your hips, your jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, as you glared at him. “Do you know how long I have been trying to wake you up for now? An hour! You hear me? An entire fucking hour! The party starts in half an hour, and neither of us have prepared any dresses to wear! What are we going to–”

He tuned you out. He wasn't particularly interested in what you were talking about either, too busy feeling hot all over, at the fact that he just had a dream. A wet dream. A wet dream about his best friend.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, realising they had zoned out. You turned around on your heel. “Why do I even bother…”

You suddenly noticed a plushie having fallen down on the floor, causing you to roll your eyes. He must have thrown it while moving around in his sleep. You bent down to pick it up.

Heeseung noticed it. Or course he did. He always noticed everything, especially if it involved you. How could you be so oblivious to his attraction towards you?

His eyes darkened as he caught a flash of your pink panties from under your skirt, just before you stood up straight again. It made him realise something.

He was going to change your indifferent attitude towards him. He was going to make you notice him — properly. Even if he needed to use some… interesting methods for it.

[zepskies]

Awww yeahhh!! Again, I'm so happy you're reading this little Russell series--thank you again, and Happy Thanksgiving (if you celebrate it)! 🥰💕

I can't wait to dive into the rest of your thoughts on Part 1...

I love their friendship so much 😂 And kudos to Dory. It takes a lot to agree to this. It could potentially get very awkward 😝

Aww I'm so glad you love her and Dory's friendship! They've become that "ride or die" best girlfriends, and Dory strikes me as someone mature enough to handle her best friend dating her formerly estranged brother. loll It really does take a lot! Which is why the reader is being so cautious about even going on a date with Russell. 😅

God, I know. This is honestly what I think about the most when I watch Tracker. The whole story line is insane and intriguing and... 😅 I have a thousand questions, and there's so much you could do with it in fics. I love it (clearly) 😂🤍

Right?! That's what kept me watching, honestly. I still have so many questions, and even in this series I mostly go off of what we know so far in the show while exploring a couple of my own headcanons. Like you said, you can go in infinite directions with their family past, and even Russell's background!

I do think Russell knows a lot more about their past than he lets on. Also, he was way too chipper for someone who was accused of patricide by his own brother for twenty years. The dynamic between the brothers is just... interesting 👀

Oh yeah, definitely. Their mom is VERY SUSS as well. 🤔🤔

Oh, she's going full Reagan! 😂 I sense some trouble coming from the brother, though...

LOL you're spidey senses are correct. Charlie's a piece of work. 😬

Well, I hope he already picked out his casket... 🙈💀

Omgg but you killed me with that scaredy Dean gif from season 1. 🤣🤣 Like I said, Charlie's a piece of work, an addict, and unfortunately, lashing out at the one person still holding him down. 💙

I'd be a puddle before I even made it to the damn seat 🫠 And they are literally so cute together! I'm full on swooning over here 😍

Ughhhhhh girl SAME. Stick a fork in me with a slab of butter, I'd be DONE.

Ah, yes, the family business. Love that sublte hint 😆 Would be a good name for a brewery, tho 👍

Omgg I'm so glad you caught that!! lmao

Oh yeah, that's catchy. I could so see that on a draft label. 😜🍻

I like that you emphasized the darker parts of his life. Like I said, I don't buy his whole "I'm happy and funny and quirky" act. There's a lot more stirring beneath the charming surface 😅 (Another thing he has in common with Dean lol)

That's definitely not all there is to Russell, so thank you for pointing that out! SO many Deanisms in Russ, but it was pretty clear to me from the get-go (and especially in 2x02) that this guy has an edge, and a lot of experience with the darker shades of the military, despite his bouncy charm lol.

And oh, don't we love a good cry on the first date? Poor thing 😂🤍

Oh God yeah, she was mortified. 😂😂 I thought it would be understandable though, given what just happened with Charlie. 🥲💙

Indeed 😂 I would've loved to be a fly on the wall when Dory had this conversation with her lol How he very eloquently avoided talking about Colter accusing him of murdering their father. I wanna be a fly on the wall for that future convo too 🤣

Ha, ikr! Maybe I'll flash back to that convo in a future ESC story. 🤔

Oh he dodges that real well, doesn't he? 😂 He's going to continue hiding that aspect of things with Colter (I have plans for another sequel story in the future), but he will get into the circumstances around his father's death with her later on...

Loved that she got a punch in before even Russell got there. He might have actually killed that pig lmao

We love a strong heroine, right? 😘 Plus, as the sister of an Air Force/military guy, I felt like Charlie would've taught her how to defend herself. But oh God yeah, Russell might've let his hand "slip." 😬

I'm having vivid flashbacks to Smoke Eater 🥵🔥

Aahahaa I had hoped that moment where he holds her hand would be a nice little Easter egg for people who read Smoke Eater. 😘❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Probably one of my favorite scenes is when characters are so hot for each other they lean against a car. There's just something so incredibly passionate about it 🔥🫠

Clearly we have similar taste on this stuff, because girl YES. 😮‍💨😮‍💨❤️‍🔥 Melts me every time I see/read it...

Oh, Russell, this is not what the lady wants to hear. Bless him tho 😂 And I figured she wanted more than a one-night-stand or fling. His job and lifestyle truly is a bit of a problem. But he wanted out anyways, so... 🤞

Bless his heart, he tried to make it sexy loll. And yeeep, not only does she want to tread lightly because he's Dory's brother, but she also isn't typically one for a fling, being an introverted nerdy type lol. Not to say that professors can't get down like that, but this character in particular is more the cautious type. 🤣🤣

I loved their first date! 😍🤍 Hopefully, they'll see each other again soon and might give this another shot. I have a feeling it's gonna involve her brother's bullshit somehow 😅

Aww thank you, friend!! I had so much fun writing their date lol. You already know they're gonna see each other again soon 😏 and your instincts are spot on as usual! Charlie's about to get himself into some trouble that he might just need some help getting out of... 😬😬

As always, reading your lovely, thoughtful and hilarious comments put a huge smile on my face! 😉💓💓

Every Second Counts - Part 1

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: Finally, here we are at Part 1! Remember that A Line and a Half functions as our prologue here.

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some mature thoughts. Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, drug use, mentions of drug addiction and alcoholism, skeevy men, and a tinge of spice.~

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 1: "Permission Granted"

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still at the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

After brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, she went to you and set her hands on your shoulders.

“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.” 

Your face began to heat up in a blush. You crossed your arms.

“All right, no one said there was going to be any of that,” you replied. “It’s just a date. Barely a date, mind you.”

“A-huh,” Dory said with a sneaking smile. “Out of curiosity, what was it about him that hooked you? You’ve been dodging Chris’s valiant attempts for like a month now.”

Chris was a French and Spanish professor. His office was on the same floor as yours, so you two occasionally crossed paths whenever you ventured into the teacher’s lounge.

He usually caught you in the morning while you were grabbing your free coffee fix at the Keurig. He’d chat you up about his classes and his dog and his new boat, and all the while you’d struggle to get a word in edgewise. Despite that, he was good-looking and pleasant, for the most part. It was just…

“I don’t know. He’s not my type, I guess,” you shrugged. You kind of liked conversations where both people got to speak.

“And Russell is?” Dory said, in a teasing tone. You chewed the inside of your lip, fighting a smile.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Kind of want to find out though.”

“Okay, well, let me know what you find,” Dory said, more wryly. You caught a bit of melancholy when her gaze drifted off. Your brows furrowed in concern as you drew closer, setting a hand on her arm.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She was hesitant, but she eventually answered you with a confession.

“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”

You could understand that. You squeezed her arm in sympathy.

“Well, he really seems to want to know you now,” you said. You remembered all the questions he asked you when he helped you carry your files back to your office after lunch today—most of them about Dory, about her career, your friendship, and ultimately, if she was happy.

“What happened to you guys?” you asked. “Why are you all so distant? Colter included.”

Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”

You dimmed at that. You knew their mother still lived in the cabin they grew up in, but Dory had never quite been able to tell you what happened to their dad. You’d never pushed the subject. You knew better than anyone what kind of pain that was. 

“I just wish we’d been able to stay with each other. Me and my brothers, at least,” Dory said. But she adopted a smile for you, before she returned to her desk.

“Okay. Go on your non-date at your favorite bar with Russell. I’ll be here, grading papers until Judgment Day,” she said, with a small laugh that felt like a coverup for thoughts she no longer wanted to think about.

You let her do it. You grabbed your purse and work bag off the spare chair in front of her desk.

“So you’re sure,” you wanted to confirm. “One last chance for me to tell him I came down with food poisoning.”

Dory collected her stack of midterm papers and gave you a cheeky look that said, class dismissed. Then she clicked her red pen and pointedly looked down at the first batch of papers to read through.

You smiled. Okay, you thought, giving her a little wave goodbye when you turned to leave. You had just a couple of hours to drive home and get ready to meet Russell.

“Goodnight,” you called.

“Goodniiight,” Dory replied.

You heard the smirk in her voice without even having to look back.

After fighting through rush hour traffic, you were exhausted when you got home from work. Your tentative excitement and nerves about tonight gave you some new energy though, even if you thought those nerves were silly to have.

Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.

The Ring Camera beside the door chimed when you entered the house, signaling your arrival. You had to wrinkle your nose at the dank-ass smell that greeted you.

Frowning in annoyance, you dropped your stuff on the kitchen table for now and shucked off your heels. You made a beeline down the hall, to the bedroom that lied across from yours. You pushed it open without knocking. There you caught your older brother, Charlie, snoozing in his bed with the covers half pooling on the floor.

His room was a mess, as usual. Your gaze locked on the evidence of half a blunt on his nightstand and two smoked roaches beside it. You were glad it wasn’t remnants of white lines of powder, like times before, but there was also a large bottle of whiskey. It was almost empty, and hanging loosely from his hand.

He managed to raise his head a bit when you came in.

“Hey,” he said, blinking bleary eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up.

You shook your head and picked around piles of dirty clothes and a couple of used paper plates on the floor. You swiftly grabbed the bottle from his hand and slammed it on the nightstand.

“You promised me, Charlie,” you snapped. “You promised me for the hundredth time that you’d quit all this shit. Where even were you last night? You weren’t home when I left for work this morning.”

He sighed, frowning at how loud you were, and sat up in bed. He swung his legs over the side and held his swimming head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair. It was nearly black, like Dad’s had been, but he’d inherited Mom’s lighter eyes.

“I got invited to a party,” he said. “I’m sorry, I know. This is the last time.”

You expelled a frustrated breath and shook your head.

“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” he said. He shut his eyes tight, probably trying to fend off a headache. 

Good, you thought. Let that be a reminder of how bad he’d screwed up again. 

“And while we’re at it, what about your half of the bills? You’re a week late,” you said, testily crossing your arms.

“Yeah, I’m a little behind,” he said. Once again, he cleared his throat past a wad of phlegm. He was still a bit crossfaded too, you could tell. “You know they cut my hours to part-time at the museum. I’ve, uh, I’ve been looking into getting another job—”

“I already paid the phone bill. And the internet, the water bill, the electricity,” you said. “The house may be paid off, but the least you can do is pay your half of living here.”

The longer you stared at him, seeing the guilt hidden behind drunken eyes, you realized he wasn’t just late on his half of the bills.

“How much?” you asked.

He frowned up at you. “What?”

“How much do you owe?” you said. Your voice was as cutting as your gaze. Charlie lowered his.  

“It’s okay, don’t worry—”

“How much,” you pressed.

He looked up at you again, this time with pursed lips. After a beat, he sighed and gave in.

“About two grand,” he admitted.

You raised your eyes heavenward, muttering a curse. Your hands went to your temples as you had to pace the room. You were angry and exasperated in equal measure.

“Who the fuck do you owe two grand?!” you asked.

Charlie shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t tell you that.”

You paused. As you looked down at him, your anger dissolved into sadness, like it always did.

“If Mom and Dad could see you now, they wouldn’t recognize you,” you said.

Charlie fought not to react to that, his brows furrowing. Instead, he just looked down, unable to answer you.

“Charlie, you need help. I can’t keep doing this with you,” you said. Your shaky breath gave way to the burn of tears.  

His red-rimmed eyes became glassy as well.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

He was always sorry. And you always had to be the one to nurse him back to health, pick up the pieces, pay the bills. You were exhausted. The bone-deep kind of tired that felt like gravity wasn't so much keeping you down, but pushing you.

“I’m going to ask for two things: do what you need to do to get paid, and clean up your shit. If you can’t accomplish that, then I’m taking you to rehab,” you said.

“You know I’ve tried that,” Charlie said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really work for me.”

“You left the program after two weeks!” you retorted.

“I did it on my own! I’ve been clean for months,” he argued.

“And what happened? You go to one party and all your good sense, all your training, mentally and physically—that all goes out the window?” you said. You had half a mind not to believe him.

“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”

Your mouth fell open incredulously.  

“I’m on your back?” you said. “Okay. I’ll get off. Do whatever the hell you want, Charlie. I’m done.”

You left his room in an angry huff. You headed over to your room so you could take a shower and start getting ready to meet Russell at Howley’s. 

By the time you got to your bedroom, you heard the front door slam closed.

The truth was, you were no longer in a mood to have fun when you pulled up to Howley’s, but you needed to escape your house. Also, you weren’t someone who canceled on people last-minute, especially not on Dory’s own brother.

You found Russell waiting for you at the bar. He waved to you with a fifth of whiskey in hand and an easy grin. He’d saved you a seat beside him.

You found yourself smiling. Your mood began to lighten as you went over to him. He looked more or less the same, but this time the jacket and jeans combo was navy blue and dark wash, respectively. His hair was swept back, lightly gelled. You smelled the familiar, rich woodiness of his cologne when you drew near, along with a hint of spicy soap.

“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied, and thanked him for the assist onto the tall stool. You’d opted for jeans and a blouse, paired with your favorite leather boots. It was less dressy than he’d seen you before, but that was “work mode.” This was a more casual affair, even if you’d spent at least twenty extra minutes on your makeup.

You were glad he picked a spot at the end of the bar though. It put some distance from the group of guys getting rowdy as they cheered at the football game playing on the TV.

“How was the rest of your day, Professor?” he asked. “And what’re you wanting to drink?”

You let out a long sigh and turned toward him, resting your elbow on the counter.

“Awesome. I’m going to need two shots of tequila and an order of something fried, and preferably covered with cheese, please,” you replied.

Russell’s grin deepened. “Okay, I’m thinking ‘awesome’ is code for something. But we can get started on that order of Forget Today’s Unfortunate Events.”

He flagged down the bartender with a raise of his hand, but he shot you a glance.

“Though I’m hoping it’s not all of today that you wanna forget,” he said.

Your lips threatened another smile, as the memory of your hand being swept up into his, and soft lips meeting the back of your hand filtered through your mind.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible,” you said.

After about ten minutes of playfully debating the appetizer menu (you swore by the pretzel and beer cheese, but Russell had his eye on those spicy wings), he finally settled on ordering both.

“When in doubt, don’t go without,” he’d remarked.

You swept a pretty coil of hair over your shoulder and downed your tequila shots with a lime wedge. Meanwhile, Russell tried not to linger his eyes on the way your tongue swept over your finger to catch a drop of lime juice. Your nails were manicured, and the shade of the polish matched your lipstick.

Russell didn’t pretend to know the art and science of a woman’s wardrobe, but everything about you was thought out, it seemed, falling in line with what he’d expect from a (sexy as all hell) college professor. You’d also told him at lunch today that as of last year, you now had two doctorates: History and Ancient Studies.

Even with all that under your belt, you also seemed refreshingly down-to-earth, a lot like Dory in that sense. He could see why you two were friends.

“So, are you from here, or are you a transplant, like my sister?” he asked.

Dory hadn’t come to live in Wyoming until their aunt and uncle took her in, when she was about eight years old. Before last month, Russell hadn’t seen her since. It hurt his heart to think about, but he tried to focus on you.

You now seemed to be staring a bit listlessly at the glass of whiskey in his hands. He laid a hand on your arm and called your name.

“Hmm?” Your brows rose as you blinked to attention. “Oh! I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve lived here pretty much forever.”

“You okay?” Russell asked. “Tequila hit ya a little hard?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry…”

You raised your hands up to your temples. You debated whether you wanted to open up about this, but…considering who Russell was, you thought he might just understand.

“Dory told me you’ve been trying to reconnect with your brother, right? Colter?” you said.

Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.

“Well, you could say I’ve got a brother issue of my own,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “You don’t have to talk about yours, but maybe you’ll understand… My brother is a veteran too. He was a Captain, air force pilot. He fought in Afghanistan, mainly.”

Russell processed that with a nod. “Yeah, I was there too. Special Ops.”

“Wow, okay. Then you know what it was like for him, coming back home,” you said. Your gaze fell to your empty shot glasses. “It was hard, after…”

“After?” he prompted.

You sighed. “Near the end, he lost half his unit in a raid, off of some flawed intel.”

Russell’s brows knitted together. Hmm. Grief, survivor’s guilt, feeling like you don’t belong.

He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.

You didn’t notice, but you did push the shot glasses away from you.

“I helped him the best I could,” you said. “I got him a job at the museum I interned at when I was in undergrad. He’s there as a security guard, but it’s not really enough, you know? It’s like, nothing satisfies him. I just…I don’t think I know how to help him anymore.”

You couldn’t help it. Emotion bubbled in your throat, making it close up on you as tears stung in your eyes. Your lower lip wobbled, and you tried to turn your face away. Embarrassment coiled up in your chest and made your face hot.

You felt a hand cover yours on your thigh, squeezing warmly. You looked up and met Russell’s gaze, both sympathetic and understanding.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to calm your shuddering breath. “This isn’t exactly first date material. I can’t believe I unloaded on you like that.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Believe me, I get what your brother’s going through.”

He pushed the plate with the last piece of soft-baked pretzel over to you.

“You finish that if you want, then you go ahead and pick something else off the menu. I won’t even argue with you this time,” he promised with a grin.

It got you to laugh, at least, and he gave you a napkin for your tears.

God, get it together, you told yourself. You’re a damn mess.

“Thanks,” you said. You managed to smile as you blotted at one corner of your eye. You hoped you hadn’t just irreversibly smudged your mascara.

Russell surprised you by brushing his thumb against your other cheek, wiping a stray tear away. Your face began to warm with a blush.

“Again, I’m sorry for dumping on you. We had a fight right when I got home,” you admitted.

“What’s his name?” Russell asked.

“Charlie.”

“Older or younger than you?”

“Four years older,” you replied. “He enlisted a few years after he graduated high school.”

Russell flickered at a smile. Enlisted, huh?

Yet another thing he and Charlie had in common, except Russell hadn’t made it through high school in the classic sense.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“I think your brother sounds lost right now. I’ve known a lotta guys like him, unfortunately,” Russell admitted. “Walking back into civilian life, it ain’t easy. That I know my damn self. Just like I know a thing or two about being an older brother. He’s probably doing his best to keep it off your shoulders.”

You shook your head at that. Trying, maybe.

You weren’t even sure of that anymore. Still, it made you all the more curious about Russell and his family.

“I know I said I wouldn’t ask this, and you don’t have to answer. But did you and Colter have a falling out or something?” you asked.

Russell expelled a deep breath and took a sip from his glass. How was he supposed to navigate this minefield with you?

“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.”

He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”

He shook his head and drained the rest of his glass. 

“Well, my brother’s got an idea about me that isn’t true,” he said.

Your head tilted in curiosity. “Which is?”

His lips briefly raised in a wan smile. 

“We don’t gotta get into that one tonight. But uh, the truth is, I’ve tried reaching out to him several times now. He just doesn’t wanna hear from me,” said Russell.

You considered him for a moment. You laid a hand on his arm, covered by his jacket. 

“Don’t give up,” you said, with a sigh of your own. “Despite some things I said to him today, I know I can’t. My brother’s the only real family I have.”

Russell grew curious then. “What about your parents?”

You gave a weak smile.

“They passed away when we were young, but…we don’t have to get into that one tonight,” you said, borrowing his words. 

His expression fell. “Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” you accepted, twisting the napkin around your fingers.

An awkward lull of silence fell between you, until Russell nodded and blew out a breath.

“Well. Heavy, huh?”

You chuckled and rested your head against your hand.

“I know. Again, my fault,” you replied. 

“It’s okay, swee—. Mmm,” he cut himself off, shooting you a knowing glance.

“Were you about to sweetheart me?” you asked playfully, nudging his hand. “You know how I feel about that.”

“No, ma’am. Not at all,” Russell shook his head. His smile gave him away though. You laughed and grabbed his arm.

“Come on,” you said.

He allowed you to lead him out of his seat. He already had a tab open, so he’d settle up with the bar later. “Where we going?”

“You’re gonna lose to me at pool,” you said with a smirk.

Russell laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist instead.

“Oh, okay. I’m gonna give you a run for your money, though,” he promised.

And he was true to his word.

Russell Shaw turned out to be a more than worthy opponent. You studied the board as you changed the angle on your cue stick no less than five times.

“You gonna make a move, or we going to be here all night?” he said.

He was smiling as he leaned against his own cue on the other side of the board. His clever moves had left you in a difficult position to get your three remaining solid-colored balls into the pocket.

“You hush. I’m thinking,” you said, fighting your own smile.

“Careful, you’ve got steam coming out of your ears,” he teased.

You shot him a narrowed look for that. But then you smiled, as the answer came to you. You walked around to his side of the board and nudged him with your hip.

“Excuse me, sir,” you said to him over your shoulder.

Russell made way for you, but his eyes followed the way you bent over to line up your shot. Namely the curve of your ass in those tight jeans. He could see you knew exactly what you were doing, in more ways than one.

You shot your shot. The solid green ball leapt over his white-striped blue one and managed to sink into the pocket. You straightened up and gave him a triumphant little smirk.

He tried to temper his smile (and ignore the way his cock twitched).

“All right, go on, do your little victory lap," he said. "But remember, I let you go first.”

“Like that matters,” you quipped back.

You went back to the other side of the board to line up your next shot. Russell noticed a pair of drunk men ambling your way from the bar, but before he could make a subtle move to put himself in between, one of the men’s gazes slid down your form and gave into the base urge to let out a low whistle.

And he slapped you right on the ass.

You gasped, grabbing hold of the pool table. Then your shock melted into ire.

Russell was already heading toward you with an angry frown of his own, but even he had to stop short, when he watched you throw a punch that cracked the drunken man across the bridge of his nose.

Good form, Russell thought, when the guy reared back with a howl. His nose dripped blood when his hands came away from his face.

His buddy started to raise his hackles, but that was when Russell stepped to your side. He angled himself toward you and loosely gripped his pool cue by his hip, like it was an extension of his arm. He was fully prepared to use it like one.

“Fucking bitch!” said the one who was still dabbing his nose in vain. He glared at you, his eyes watering involuntarily, while his friend tried to keep him upright. You rolled your eyes.

"You're the one who's crying, bitch," you returned. Russell held in a snort. He cleared his throat and looked on at the pair of idiots.

“I’d have a little sit down if I were you,” Russell told them, with a smirk. “Let that be a lesson to ya. And if it don’t stick? Well. Whatever you start, I can damn well finish.”

His steely gaze reinforced the promise of his words. The other men were still angry, but even drunks had some sense of self-preservation. They ambled toward the back of the bar to find another pool table.

Russell focused his attention back on you, finding you looking down at your hand, rotating your wrist and flexing your fingers.

“Well, look at you, slugger,” he said. You met his smile with one of amusement.

“That’s just what I needed tonight. A broken hand,” you quipped.

“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.

Damn, she really gave it to him, Russell thought.

“Sorry,” he said, but your hand felt fine, at least. More than fine. His gaze flicked up to yours as his amused grin deepened. “Good hit though.”

If he liked you before, he might’ve fallen half in love with you right there.

You laughed through the pain. “Yeah, my brother did teach me something. Shit.”

Russell led you back to the bar after you grabbed your purse. There he called to the bartender for some ice. The guy nodded; he’d seen the entire exchange and was sympathetic.

You knew this sort of thing was just par for the course at this kind of bar, but they had the best drinks. Charlie had to carry you out of here on your twenty-first birthday, drunk off your ass. Not to mention, he’d punched out two handsy dicks that night.

You recounted the story to Russell over a couple more drinks. Your conversation was lighter then, filled with laughter and a warm, companiable feeling. He was still rather evasive about his job, but you supposed he had to be, since it was government contract work.

Private security, mainly. Or so he'd said. This man made you infinitely curious, and a bit apprehensive, if you were honest.

And yet, at some point while you two shared and laughed and split a hot sandwich with another round of beers, you realized it.

I like this, you thought. And I like him.

However, the night had to come to an end sometime. Your third involuntary yawn told Russell it was time to call it.

"I'm okay," you tried.

"Nah, you've gotta work tomorrow," he said. He signaled to the bartender. "Let me go ahead and close out my tab."

“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, reaching for your purse now hanging from your hip.

“You kidding me? Put that away,” he said, guiding your hand with your wallet aside.

Smiling, you accepted his generosity with a small thank you. Then, you let him take up your sore hand again, just to carefully press the half-melted bag of ice over it.

“Feelin’ better?” he asked.

Your smile became softer. “Yeah.”

You had no doubt that this man, tall as he was, with his broad shoulders and the controlled way he carried himself, could’ve laid both of those drunken assholes onto their asses. His intimidating gaze had promised as much.

But his hands were gentle for you.

“I was about to win that game, no contest!” you said, laughing as you and Russell headed out of the bar and into the parking lot.

“Hey, hey, I still had time to win it back,” he argued. “I only had three more balls to go. I could’ve sunk that with my eyes closed.”

“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”

Russell snorted. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

“Hey, you laughed!” you said, pointing at him.

He shook his head, despite his amusement. He slowed to a stop in front of his car.

“Where’d you park, huh?” he asked.

“Over there,” you said, pointing several parking spaces down. Your eyes were drawn to his car, however. “Wow. This is your car?”

Russell grinned and patted the top of his black Chevy.

“Aw, yeah. That’s my baby,” he said. “She’s a Chevelle, 1967.”

You didn’t know much about cars, but you could see this was a classic beauty. You passed a hand over its sleek paint job without touching, so you didn't get any fingerprints on it. Though you quirked a smile over your shoulder at him.

“She?” you intoned.

“That’s right. She,” he confirmed.

You smirked and crossed your arms. You paused in front of the passenger door, and when Russell drew in closer, you had to crane your neck up to meet his warm gaze.

“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.

You tilted your head, your own eyes dancing.

“I’m sure you’re brave enough to find out,” you said.

Russell decided he’d take that bet.

He leaned in slowly. He made a show of hesitating, raising a brow, as if waiting for a blow. You were tempted to laugh.

But then he let loose a true smile, and he bowed his head to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fell shut, and your hands moved to flatten against his chest. A firm fucking wall. Jesus.

He circled his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer. Your fingers wound up in his hair, while he tilted his head to kiss you again. You met him with the same fervor with each new kiss, and the feel of your body, soft and pliant under his hands, each little sweet sound that you made, it all drove him to delve in deeper.

You moaned into his mouth at the first warm swipe of his tongue against yours. He tasted like the burn of good whiskey.

You pressed yourself flush against him on instinct. He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car. His hand tangled into your hair, gripping, then easing through the soft strands.

Russell veered away from your soft mouth after a while, just to burn a line of warm, wet kisses along your jaw, and down your neck with the added rasp of his beard.

His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. He kissed and sucked at your skin, even grazing with his teeth. You gasped softly in his ear, shuddering against him. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his strong back out of a need to feel him.

His hands were heavy along the curve of your waist then, squeezing your hips. It all felt incredibly right. And by right, you meant body tingling, warmth churning in your lower belly, and wetness growing between your legs, for sure dampening your panties.

You tugged him back by his hair, so you could reach him for another steamy kiss.

“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.

You paused against his lips, parting from him softly.

“Or not," he added. "Just thought I’d mention.” 

You giggled, catching your breath, and then smoothing your hands down his chest. The faint throb of your core was telling you one thing, but the warning signals of your more cautious mind were telling you another. You thought for a moment…but then you sighed. 

“How long are you really in town?” you asked.

His wet lips tugged to one corner, ruefully. “A few more days, probably.”

“Right,” you said with a frown. “Russell, I like you. I actually, I really do. If you were sticking around for a while, it’d be one thing. But you’re my best friend’s brother, and I—”

“No, I get it. I can’t predict when I’m gonna be able to swing back into town, and you’ve gotta live your life,” he said, but not without care. He curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. 

Your heart tugged, almost painfully.

“You’re a good guy, Russell Shaw,” you breathed. “Why can’t you be a good guy who’s staying?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Then he cringed, knowing how you felt about sweethearting men. “Ah, sorry—” 

You smiled and covered his mouth with your fingers. 

“It’s okay. You have permission to sweetheart me.” 

After blinking his surprise away, his face eased into a grin.

“Then I’ll wear that badge with honor,” he said. 

Your shoulders shook with laughter when you let your forehead fall against his chest.

Russell remained what he had been throughout the entire night: a gentleman, who accompanied you over to your car.

After another stolen kiss or two in front of your sedan, you parted ways from him with a bit of a heavy heart. You wondered if you made the right decision, or if you should’ve just gone for it for once, instead of second-guessing yourself like usual.

You did know this. The rumble of his Chevelle driving down the opposite road would be imprinted on your memory.

When you returned home, you realized that the house was empty, and in complete darkness.

Charlie still wasn’t home.

Worried, you flicked on the lights and began to text his cell, only to find a note for you on the kitchen counter.

And it worried you even more.

I’m sorry. I’m going to make it right. 

— C.

AN: 😬 Well then! lol We're diving straight into the drama and feels on this one. What did you think of her "barely a date" with Russell? 😂

And where do you think we're going next with Charlie?

Next Time:

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

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@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[cheyisagirlkisser]

craving a soft, sweet make out sesh with vi

you can imagine s1 vi or s2 with this one, I know I definitely went overboard with the context to why they’re making out I’m sorry if this isn’t what you were expecting but I like making my requests unique. Thank you for this request though I kind of needed a break from writing filthy smut (as much as I love to do that, too)

Content: 654 words, soft make-out sesh, fluff, this isn’t sexual so if that’s what you’re expecting I have other fics!:3

I see Vi as the type of person to be rough when she wants to be but with you? She could spend hours just softly smothering your lips with hers, not even pulling away when it's over but rather resting her forehead against yours so she can feel the life of oxygen flow through you, the warm breath so she knows that you're alive and all hers. She likes to slide her tongue over you with no real destination or finish line and know that your heart is still beating just as fast as if she were doing more, but you know that she would stick by your side even if these soft, sweet kisses are the only thing she is given. It is all she needs.

🍥

Vi wasn’t much of a soft person, like, ever. Pretty brash and called reckless by almost everyone in her life, loved the feeling of fighting, and somehow, she was still soft as ever in the ways that counted.

With you, she craved to be soft. She trusted you with her heart enough that she would spill all of her emotions and issues out whenever the two of you were alone, let you comfort her so softly, and feel the way you softly squeeze her hand.

She can’t help it - not when you’re looking at her so sweetly as she tells you things she has never confessed to in her life before. She needs you, and so she cups your face and pulls you in for a soft kiss.

She doesn’t rush or force her tongue down your throat. Her lips are warm and you can slightly feel the scar on her upper lip against your lips and you just want to take care of her, make her feel like she will always have you. Because she really will. But strangely enough, Vi has a way of spoiling you far too much to even give you the chance to reciprocate, and so you’ll let her devour your lips in such a loving way.

Her hands pull at your hips and you soon find yourself in her lap. You don’t expect anything more to come from this, and that feels just right to you. Feeling Vi’s tongue softly lick into your mouth, feeling her hands rub over your waist but never too sexually or too roughly, it is enough.

You were always told that when someone truly loves a girl, they don’t always kiss her like they’re desperate to own her or like they’d explode without her. That’s good fun, but they take their time with her. They’re able to kiss her like they’re underwater and everything is simply slow motion because then, both of you are vulnerable and the drowning in each other’s lips takes longer. Vi kisses her girl like the two of you can kiss forever, and you can feel how she slightly quivers against your lips with all of her emotions forefront. She doesn't want to nibble on your lip but rather feel it between your teeth and pull away only to just feel your lips against hers, not even having to slide against them in any way but feel the way your lips are swollen and wet with her own saliva, it is so intimate with Vi and yet so, so sweet. When she loves, she loves deeply, intimately.

Her lips finally leave your mouth but only to trail sweet kisses down your jaw and onto your neck, soft pecks turning into the wet of her tongue branded onto your skin so sensually, you’re reacting all the same as if she were biting and taking you. She holds you while she lavishes attention onto your throat, softly tells you how much she loves you and how grateful she is to have you, and after a long while later she will hold you close to her and let you sleep on top of her.

[venusswhite]

A Thousand Years | Arcane Vi x Fem Leitora (Part. 2)

After losing everything, [Name] tries to rebuild her life. But what happens when a ghost with pink hair returns? notes: English is not my first language, and I initially wrote this fanfic in Portuguese. With the help of online resources, I rewrote it in English

Part. 1

“Think I’ll miss you forever, like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky.” - Lana Del Rey

They were all dead…

After we robbed a house in Piltover, the enforcers came after us. Vander said he’d handle it, leaving the bar under Vi’s and my care.

“I can’t stay here. I need to help him!” Vi paced back and forth, gripping her hair tightly.

“No, Vi. It’s too dangerous,” I said, stepping closer. “Vander will handle it. He always does.”

“This time it’s different, [Name],” she snapped, anger in her voice. “I feel like something’s wrong.”

“So you’re going after him? You’re just a kid, Vi!” I raised my voice.

“What do you want me to do?” she shouted back. “Without him, we’re nothing! I can’t just sit here doing nothing.”

“We can’t do anything. We shouldn’t have done anything!” I shouted, my frustration boiling over. “I knew that mission was a bad idea.”

“You think I don’t realize that was a mistake?” she yelled, her eyes burning into mine. “Don’t you think I feel guilty for all this mess?”

“Please, stop fighting!” Powder cried, clutching Mylo and Claggor, who were staring at us with worry and fear.

Vi growled, grabbed a bottle, and hurled it to the ground, the sound echoing loudly. Powder flinched and ran into my arms, sobbing.

“It’s okay! Everything will be fine,” I whispered, holding her tightly.

“That’s not what I meant,” I said more calmly, trying to defuse the situation. “This isn’t your fault. It’s no one’s fault. We need to stick together now… as a family.”

Tears streamed down my face. Vi looked at us, her eyes glistening with tears, and came closer.

“I’m sorry, but I have to do this,” she whispered.

“Vi, please don’t go,” I begged, crying while still holding Powder, who looked at her sister with tears in her eyes. “You don’t have to do this!”

“[Name], I have to help him,” she said, hugging us with tears streaming down her face.

“Then at least let us help.”

“No. You stay here. Please, I can’t lose anyone else,” she said, pulling away and pressing her forehead against mine.

I closed my eyes, feeling her breath against my face.

“Then come back to us, Vi. Promise you’ll come back.”

I opened my eyes, staring into hers.

“I promise,” she replied, and then I felt her lips against mine in a lingering, gentle kiss. It was simple, just two lips touching, but at that moment, I could swear fireworks were exploding inside me. She pulled away, smiling, and kissed Powder’s forehead.

“You four stay together. I’ll bring Vander back home. I swear it,” she promised, leaving, but not before looking back and smiling.

After some time, Mylo and Claggor went after her, insisting that Vander was their father too. I watched them leave, not knowing it would be the last time I’d see them alive.

I was torn, afraid, unsure whether I should go help or stay and care for Powder.

I wasn’t good at fighting and didn’t have any weapons.

So I decided to stay, thinking the three of them would do better on their own.

“[Name], I’m sleepy. Will you wake me up when they come back?” she asked, still in my arms.

“Of course! Don’t worry…”

She pulled away from my arms, walking toward the door at the back of the bar.

“[Name]?”

I turned to see her standing there, holding the door open and looking at me.

“I love you. Thank you for always taking care of me.”

Tears welled up in my eyes at her confession.

“I love you too, Powpow, and I’ll always be here to take care of you,” I said, smiling despite the heaviness in my heart.

“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine!” she said with her childish voice and closed the door.

The bar was empty, but I wouldn’t close it. I wanted to show Vander that I was ready to take care of the bar while he rested.

I cleaned the counter and organized the liquor bottles. Opening the drawer where we kept all the money, I noticed a photo among the bills.

It was the six of us, years ago. It seemed like it was taken shortly after he adopted us.

I smiled, seeing how happy we looked. I hoped with all my heart that this wouldn’t end tonight.

My stomach churned at the thought. I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm for all of them.

After hours, my body seemed to know something had happened. Why were they taking so long to come back? What if the enforcers caught them? Should I go after them? What if something worse had—

“They’re dead,” someone said above me, cutting off my thoughts.

I looked up and saw Sevika.

“What?” A shiver ran down my spine at the possibility of it being true.

“A bomb exploded where they were and killed almost everyone. Except the blue-haired girl.”

“Powder?” I ran through the back door, searching for the girl.

I turned over the blankets, opened the cabinets where she used to hide to play tricks on us. But I couldn’t find her.

“Powder?” I yelled, opening the chest she used as a hiding spot during our games.

I began crying, realizing she wasn’t anywhere. Vi had asked me for one thing, to take care of her sister, and I couldn’t even do that.

“I’m sorry, [Name],” Sevika said behind me.

“Where is Powder?” I asked angrily. I didn’t even know who I was mad at: myself? Powder? No… not Powder. She was just a child. She probably went looking for her sister, worried. I was the irresponsible one. I should have taken care of her, especially during this delicate moment.

I had been so irresponsible.

“Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

I followed Sevika until we reached an old building. We climbed the stairs until we arrived at a room where Powder was sobbing in Silco’s arms.

“Powder…” I whispered, my chest tightening.

“[Name]!” she ran to me, sobbing.

“What happened?” I asked, trying to hold back my own sobs.

“I just wanted to help… I promise! I didn’t know the explosion would hurt them!” Powder cried even harder, and my body froze.

“It’s okay! It’s okay, Powpow! I believe you!” I hugged the girl tightly, trying to stay calm.

After a moment, Silco approached us.

“I have a proposal for you two,” he said.

“We’re not interested,” I cut him off.

“You know you can’t take care of her on your own,” he replied.

The worst part was that he was right. What was I going to do now?

The harsh reality of the situation hit me hard. We had no one else. Everyone was gone. I didn’t know what to do.

Defeated, I asked, “What’s your proposal?”

“I knew you’d make the right choice. Well… my proposal is your loyalty, both of you, and in return, I’ll give you everything you need: food, clothes, protection, a home.”

“Loyalty?” I asked, confused. I didn’t think we’d be useful for anything.

“Yes. Loyalty! You’ll be useful for my business in the future.”

“We won’t be your puppets,” I said, holding Powder tighter.

“Relax, [Name]. You two will be my eyes. You’ll be my representatives. Don’t worry, you won’t do anything you don’t want to…”

I had no choice. Sighing, I replied, “Alright… I accept your proposal.”

“Good. Sevika will show you your room. I want to talk to Powder.”

“What are you going to say to her?” I asked angrily, holding her tighter.

“Nothing bad,” he whispered, approaching us. “She’s traumatized, [Name]. You’re just a child, and now she needs someone to take care of her… to take care of both of you.” When he got closer, his arms surrounded us.

“[Name], it’s okay! I trust him!” Powder looked at me with her red, tear-filled eyes.

“You can talk to her, but I’ll stay outside the room. When you’re done, she’ll go to the room with me.”

“Alright! You take care of yours, [Name]. That’s a good thing!”

I pulled away from the girl, pressing our foreheads together, and whispered:

“If anything happens, call me, alright?”

Sevika led me outside the room, closing the door. I felt tense, wondering what he was saying to Powder.

(POV Silco)

“Come here.” I called her, extending a chair for her to sit on. Slowly, she approached and sat down. “You care about [Name], don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” she replied without hesitation.

“Then I need to ask you something. Something that will protect [Name].”

“What? I’ll do anything,” she said with determination.

“You can’t tell her that your sister is alive.”

“She’s not my sister anymore,” she replied angrily.

“Of course, she isn’t, but you can’t tell her that Violet is alive. Do you know why?”

“Why?” she asked, her eyes welling up with tears while her face remained angry.

“Because Violet abandoned you. And if [Name] finds out, she’ll be very sad, and we don’t want to see [Name] sad, do we?”

“No, of course not! I want to protect [Name]!” she exclaimed.

“I want to protect her too, which is why this will be our secret.”

7 Years Later

(POV [Name])

The last few years have been hard. Losing everyone changed us. Powder no longer existed. She was Jinx now and insisted on being called that.

But it wasn’t all bad. Silco took good care of us; he gave us everything we needed.

I found Ekko after some time, but he refused to join us. Even so, I took care of him however I could.

I found out that Benzo had also died that day, leaving the little guy completely alone.

Since he wouldn’t join us, I arranged a place for him to stay and always brought him what he needed. Years later, he built his own refuge, which I kept hidden from Silco… and Jinx.

He still didn’t accept me being on Silco’s side, even after I explained my reasons. Even so, sometimes we would talk, forgetting for a moment about our differences.

Jinx didn’t want to see him. She hated talking about the past and would have breakdowns if anyone crossed the line. I still wondered if I had done enough to care for her. If Vi would be disappointed in me…

Over the years, Sevika also helped me improve my physical abilities. I hate to admit it, but she became a maternal figure to me—someone to look up to. Someone I aspired to be like.

Walking through Zaun’s streets, I saw the state of the place I grew up in. I didn’t take pride in what Silco had done, but I reminded myself that I stayed by his side for Jinx. No matter how much she had changed, she was still that little girl who cried in Vander’s arms while he helped me during that massacre caused by Piltover. She was still Powder… deep down.

I was heading toward the old Last Drop when I caught sight of pink hair in the crowd. My heart raced, and the feelings from years ago rushed back. My hands started sweating, and my legs trembled.

The crowd blocked my view of the pink-haired figure. I pushed through the people, searching frantically for that familiar color.

I checked every possible entrance and corner, but I couldn’t find her.

I must have been imagining things. Again.

It wouldn’t be the first time my mind tricked me into seeing Vi walking the streets.

Sighing, I returned to the bar’s entrance, walked in, and sat at a stool by the counter. I ordered a drink. After finishing it, I asked for another and another, until the people around me blurred.

“One more,” I slurred.

“No more, [Name],” I heard a voice beside me.

“Leave me alone,” I whispered, resting my head on the counter.

“What happened to make you like this?” the voice spoke again. I looked up, squinting to recognize the person beside me. After a moment, I realized it was Sevika.

“I miss her, Sevika. I miss her so much,” I said, running my finger along the rim of my glass.

“You need to move on, [Name]. It’s been so long,” she said, running her hand through my hair.

“I know, but everything reminds me of her,” I said, feeling something wet on my face. “Today, I saw a girl with pink hair. I was so sure it was her, but of course, it wasn’t,” I said, realizing the wetness came from my tears.

“So that’s why,” she sighed. “Let’s go home.”

“No.”

“I’m not asking.”

She picked me up, slinging me over her shoulder.

[zuko-always-lies]

I don't care if Azula gets a redemption arc

I don't care if Azula and Zuko make up.

I don't care if Azula reconciles with her friends.

I don't care if Azula reconciles with her mother.

I don't care if Azula reconciles with Iroh.

I don't care if Azula reconciles with Ozai.

I don't care if Azula completely rejects Ozai.

I don't care if Azula becomes friends with the Gaang.

I don't care if Azula rejects imperialism.

I don't care if Azula becomes a revolutionary.

I don't care if Azula dies young.

I don't care if Azula lives long.

I don't care if Azula has a romantic relationship.

I don't care if Azula has kids.

I don't care if Azula remains childless.

I don't care if Azula lives the rest of her life in the Fire Nation.

I don't care if Azula leaves the Fire Nation and never returns.

I don't care if Azula remains an antagonist.

I don't care if Azula becomes a hero.

What I care about is that Azula be written in an interesting manner.

The biggest reason I tend to advocate sticking closely to canon is that Azula, as she's portrayed in canon, is incredibly interesting and complex, and almost any change people make to that makes her less interesting.

If Azula gets a redemption arc, make it interesting.

If Azula remains an antagonist, make it interesting.

If you want to write Zuko and Azula making up, be my guest, but make it interesting because the fanon version of this is boring as shit.

If you want to write Azula never reconciling with Mai and Ty Lee, be my guest, but write it an interesting way, because "they all hated each other forever just because they hated each other and never forgave" is boring as shit.

If you want to write Azula becoming friends with the Gaang, sure, but make it interesting.

If you want to write Azula rejecting imperialism, sure, but make it interesting.

If you want to write Azula living the rest of her life in exile, sure, do it, but make it interesting.

And so on.

Just make her interesting.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

I just love this fic! Jason is so sweet, and I wanna wrap him and the reader up in a warm blanket, give them tea, and kiss their foreheads. fr, OP, your work is stunning, and I'm devouring every line!! I talk about my favorite parts below the cut!

The quiet snores echoing in the air and the soothing rise and fall of his chest against your back would usually be enough to lull you into a gentle morning sleep. But usually you can breathe out of both sides of your nose.

Plsss, I was hooked immediately by this!! The relationship building in the first sentence and just how domestic it is has me clutching my heart! And then the next line actually had me giggling. We've all been there fr

You feel a sneeze coming on and try to stifle it, to keep it locked tight in your lungs so you won’t wake the love of your life from the rare bit of peace and quiet he gets. You make no noise, but the shaking of your body stirs him anyway. Damn vigilantes and their preternatural awareness. He hums lazily as he pulls you further into his chest.

ahhh, they're precious!! I know he's an unfairly light sleeper, and you couldn't get away with a thing.

“Then why do you sound like the Swedish Chef from the Muppets?”

WHEEZING!! He's gonna hit, and that's what happens when you mess around with someone when they're already sick 😤

You push yourself out of his arms and make it as far as the edge of the bed before he’s pulling you back to him again. “Aw, c’mon, ma. Don’t be mad. You are sick. Just admit it,” he says, voice kind as he runs his hand up and down your spine.

... he's forgiven, that's adorable, and I'm weak for pet names

He just squeezes you back, then manhandles your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He rises from your bed like you weigh nothing to him, hefting you into the air so that you’re better positioned.

Jason Todd carrying people supremacy. I'm swooning over here!

You can see it in the fact that everything he needed for this was already in your kitchen, in the fact that none of it was there when you fell asleep last night while he was on patrol. Jason cares. He cares from the tip of the stubborn curl that sticks up on the top of his head to the soles of his feet that guide you in a slow waltz around the kitchen.

AHH! THIS!!! Jason Todd and slow dancing in the kitchen is my WEAKNESS!! And he cares so much!! Yes, yes, and yes, this is sooo him! Actually, I'm going insane over this paragraph! Just, yes, I looove the line about the curl of his hair to the soles of his feet, it's just so picturesque. 10/10 has my whole attention. 💙

You nod your head that’s tucked against his chest, sniffling as you feel your nose start to run. Without missing a beat, Jason pulls a tissue from the pocket of his pajama pants and hands it to you.

The sigh I just let out was soooo dreamy

He goes rigid momentarily before he relaxes against you. Then a soft smile breaks out on his face. He chuckles and shakes his head, turning his face away from you. But you can be observant too. You don’t miss the way pink dusts his cheeks and, oh, he looks so pretty like this.

Jason Todd is a pretty boy and I will never keep quiet on that fact!!

Jason reads the new book he was telling you about as you listen to music, dozing in and out of consciousness. It’s not your fault he makes such a great pillow; his large body is warm and soft as he lies relaxed on your sofa. Every now and then, especially when he thinks you’ve fallen into a light sleep, he’ll place a featherlight kiss on the top of your head.

SWOONING! Cuddling with him on the couch is just chef's kiss

Carrying you out of bed, making you soup, letting you rest on him, the soft kisses and touches he flutters over your skin; it’s all his way of saying he loves you when the words themselves are simply too much or not enough.

ugh, yes! Sometimes words aren't enough to get the feelings across, but he shows them with every action and look, and I love him, your honor

And maybe it’s the homemade soup settled in your belly, or the afternoon sunlight shining through the window, or the warmth of the man you love beneath you, but you soon find yourself lulled into a peaceful sleep that feels just like home.

This is the sweetest, omg, I feel like I just ate my favorite candy. Seriously, OP, I'm eating up your work!! It's fantastic, and I'm enthralled! 💙💙

darling, won’t you take me home?

jason todd x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: reader has a mild cold, but nothing much else (lmk if I missed anything)

a/n: this is just a lighthearted sick fic that got real prose-y at the end bc I was listening to my Jason playlist and got all in my feelings while drowsy off cold medicine. again, i give thee my wares.

divider credit: saradika-graphics

You wake to soft light filtering in through the white curtains of your bedroom and the warm weight of your lover’s arm across your waist. The quiet snores echoing in the air and the soothing rise and fall of his chest against your back would usually be enough to lull you into a gentle morning sleep. But usually you can breathe out of both sides of your nose. And you usually don’t feel like there’s sandpaper in your throat. And your body doesn’t usually feel this heavy.

Goddamn it–you’re sick.

You feel a sneeze coming on and try to stifle it, to keep it locked tight in your lungs so you won’t wake the love of your life from the rare bit of peace and quiet he gets. You make no noise, but the shaking of your body stirs him anyway. Damn vigilantes and their preternatural awareness. He hums lazily as he pulls you further into his chest. You think he might be able to doze back off and you’re glad for it. Then your hopes are dashed. One, two, three sneezes wrack your body in succession and you are finally forced to admit defeat.

“Are you sneezing?” Jason asks, groggy but inquiring.

“…no.”

You don’t even know why you tried to lie to him. You’re a bad liar in most cases, and an absolutely abysmal liar when it comes to Jason. He simply sighs and you’d bet twenty dollars that he’s rolling those pretty seafoam eyes of his. He easily turns you in his arms so that you’re facing him. Great, now you really won’t be able to lie to him.

“I told ya that you were gettin’ sick,” he scolds gently.

“‘M not sick!”

He did. And you are.

“Then why do you sound like the Swedish Chef from the Muppets?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

He tries to keep his face serious, but soon the facade cracks and he lets out a deep belly laugh as you glare at him. You push yourself out of his arms and make it as far as the edge of the bed before he’s pulling you back to him again.

“Aw, c’mon, ma. Don’t be mad. You are sick. Just admit it,” he says, voice kind as he runs his hand up and down your spine.

“Okay. Fine. Whatever,” you mumble, your words trailing off unintelligibly.

Jason doesn’t miss it. He never does. Fucking vigilantes and their fine tuned hearing.

“What was that?” he smirks.

You whisper it again, quiet as a mouse. He shakes his head. You smack him in the chest.

“Ah ah, I wanna hear it,” he laughs.

“I said you were right! There! You happy now?” you pout, burying your head in his chest.

You can feel the giggles travel through his body and find it impossible to fight the smile it brings to your face, even if your head feels foggier than Gotham after a heavy rain. You squeeze him tight, a sudden aggressive love for him that you just need to let out. It does nothing to his strong frame. He just squeezes you back, then manhandles your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He rises from your bed like you weigh nothing to him, hefting you into the air so that you’re better positioned.

“C’mon, we’re makin’ soup.”

One thing about Jason Todd is that he’s an amazing cook. He didn’t cook much for himself before he met you. He’s told you he didn’t see any point when cheap takeout would fuel his body just fine for whatever fight was inevitably coming for him. But now he has both the reason and the time to care. And he cares. So much.

You can see it in the way he sets the chicken to bake while he tells you about the new book he got from the bookstore down the block. You can see it in the way his skilled hands, calloused and bruised, slice the carrots razor thin because he knows you hate the crunch of them. You can see it in the barely noticeable look of pride on his face as all the ingredients simmer in the big metal pot, giving your shared home a warm aroma of comfort. You can see it in the fact that everything he needed for this was already in your kitchen, in the fact that none of it was there when you fell asleep last night while he was on patrol. Jason cares. He cares from the tip of the stubborn curl that sticks up on the top of his head to the soles of his feet that guide you in a slow waltz around the kitchen.

“I know you probably aren’t too hungry, but I need you to try to eat at least one bowl for me,” he says in his gentlest negotiation voice as he puts a bowl of chicken noodle soup on the counter.

You nod your head that’s tucked against his chest, sniffling as you feel your nose start to run. Without missing a beat, Jason pulls a tissue from the pocket of his pajama pants and hands it to you.

“And you’re takin’ cold medicine the second you get some food in you.”

He’s not asking anymore, just stating facts.

“Gonna stay up all night watching me too?” you ask teasingly.

“I might,” he retorts.

“I love you too, Jay.”

He goes rigid momentarily before he relaxes against you. Then a soft smile breaks out on his face. He chuckles and shakes his head, turning his face away from you. But you can be observant too. You don’t miss the way pink dusts his cheeks and, oh, he looks so pretty like this. You tell him as much just to watch the soft pink turn to vibrant red.

“Shut up and eat your soup.”

One bowl of soup and a disgusting shot of cold medicine later, you find yourself wrapped in the arms of your lover as you both lounge on the couch. Jason reads the new book he was telling you about as you listen to music, dozing in and out of consciousness. It’s not your fault he makes such a great pillow; his large body is warm and soft as he lies relaxed on your sofa. Every now and then, especially when he thinks you’ve fallen into a light sleep, he’ll place a featherlight kiss on the top of your head.

You may not be a vigilante or The World’s Greatest Detective, but you can put all the pieces of the day together well enough. Carrying you out of bed, making you soup, letting you rest on him, the soft kisses and touches he flutters over your skin; it’s all his way of saying he loves you when the words themselves are simply too much or not enough. But the words are enough for you. You swear that you’ll go to your grave finding all the prettiest ways to tell him just how much you love him. Because you do.

And maybe it’s the homemade soup settled in your belly, or the afternoon sunlight shining through the window, or the warmth of the man you love beneath you, but you soon find yourself lulled into a peaceful sleep that feels just like home.

[charles-smith-pillow-princess]

Charles sighed, straightening from the bench where he was untying his moccasins at the entrance to the cabin. “Stare any harder and you’ll burn a hole in my shirt.”

His voice was muffled through the thick cotton of the mask they both wore over their faces, a precautionary measure. Apparently TB was more contagious than either of them had realized at the start of this whole mess. 

“I’d aim for your hand,” Arthur sniped, adjusting on the bed that had been his prison for three weeks now. He could hardly make it to the outhouse without coughing so hard he’d soil himself, and he’d never felt weaker in his life. Still, he had pride. And, good Christ, was he bored.  “Maybe if I burn it you’d let me do some damn work around here.”

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger. This was a well-worn argument. “Arthur, you’re sick. Doctor said rest.”

Arthur snorted. “What’s the use of keepin’ my mangy ass alive if I’m just gonna go crazy?”

Charles looked over his gloved hand with a peevish glare. “Read? Do anything that ain’t bitin’ my head off?”

Arthur made to get out of the bed. “Just lemme help, I could at least cook—”

“Arthur!” Charles snapped, getting to his feet and crossing the room in three long strides. He gently grabbed Arthur by the shoulders, carefully but inexorably pushing Arthur back down to the bed. It wasn’t even hard—it’d been months since Arthur had the strength to offer anything like a proper struggle. “No, damn you! You can hardly stand!” 

Arthur huffed, glaring. Then he took a shallow, careful breath, willing himself to calm down. 

Charles had been nothing but good to him. It wasn’t his fault Arthur was like this. Weak, useless. Worthless. He couldn’t wrap his head around it, most days, how his lover could stand to be trapped in this sisyphean nightmare.

Not that Arthur could really call him a lover, anymore. They hadn’t so much as kissed in months. 

“I’m sorry,” Arthur apologized, begrudging. “I just—I can’t get through, like this. Feel useless.”

Charles’ eyes were exhausted, dark circles deeply ingrained in the hollows. “Wish I had something to offer you,” he said, genuine. His shoulders slumped, weariness in every line of his frame.

Arthur shook his head. “Just wish I could care for you the way you do for me.” He reached out carefully, exhaling when Charles leaned into Arthur’s touch against his temple. Arthur tucked away a lock of hair that had escaped Charles’ braid. 

Charles’ hair was still growing back out—it was out of the awkward stage it’d been in, the first few months. Charles had looked ridiculous, thick, short hair on his sides sticking up like a porcupine’s compared to the long hair still flowing down his back. 

It was better, now. Just long enough to weave into Charles’ usual braid, though the shortest strands still escaped whenever he exerted himself, sticking out in a halo of fly-aways. 

Charles’ eyes slipped closed. His breath stilled, a deliberate hold, and his brow furrowed. “Brush my hair?”

Arthur blinked. Charles had always been particular with his hair—Arthur was hardly allowed to touch it, even the few times they’d made love before his illness had gotten so extreme that any such exertions sent him into coughing fits. 

“Don’t offer me that,” Arthur said, gruff. “Not just ‘cause I’m bored.” He swallowed the painful, hot sensation of tears building behind his eyes. “Not for pity.”

Charles shook his head, one hand coming up to cup Arthur’s against his own cheek, guiding Arthur’s fingers up and back into the warm, silk-soft strands at Charles’ temple. “Ain’t pity. I just—” Charles’ eyes fluttered open, brown doe-eyes regarding Arthur under thick lashes. He looked nervous, of all things. Shy. “I've been lonely, too,” Charles admitted. “I miss you, too, Arthur.” Arthur swallowed. He longed to trade years off his life to kiss Charles, in that moment. To press so hard against him that it'd push the lonely from his skin.

To make it so Charles never felt alone again.

But it wasn't just his years he'd be risking. So he'd seize this gift, so hesitantly and sweetly offered. This vulnerability, and pray on god he didn't sully it with his thieving hands.

"Alright, sweetheart," Arthur murmured, sitting up. He leaned up, brushed a cotton-muffled kiss against Charles' covered cheek. "We can do that."

[call-me-copycat]

Michi…. Shinsou’s hero name… how are we feeling?? It’s okay but def not what I expected 😭

Leaks for those unaware:

Ok, being a huge MHA fan once I saw an update about Shinso I nearly cried on instinct but now some time has passed I'm able to think about it more

It doesn't seem too bad for a hero name? There's worse after all: Tail Man, Sugar Man, Invisible Girl, Grape Juice, etc

Still, I like to think we as a fandom have grown close to the conjectured name MindJack for him so it's certainly a little unfamiliar

That being said, while I do wish his hero name had something to do a little more with his quirk, I do like the name NightHide (it's cheesy but so are most of the Hero names - look at All Might's!)

It fits the same pattern Horikoshi goes through when he's made most of the other Hero names, which I like because it fits Shinso in just a little more (so nice seeing him not sticking out anymore but now a part of the group)

It also makes sense in hindsight that his hero name doesn't allude to his quirk because the whole point of his quirk is depending on others not knowing what it is

That's why I'm a little confused that he seems to be a Pro Hero instead of an Underground Hero? I feel that with a quirk like his he might be better suited for the Underground life (most would speculate based on his similarities to Aizawa after all)

Maybe he wanted to forge his own path? Maybe he just likes being part of the group? Aizawa only really had Hizashi and Nemuri growing as a hero, so he might've been better suited for the loneliness that came with being an underground hero. Shinso throughout the series seems to always be surrounded by people, so he's probably more used to it than solitude like Aizawa (just speculation)

That being said I definitely liked the Shinso cameo, it made my day (because most of the leaks seemed to bring lots of pain to me ૮( ̳ т ̫ т ̳ )ა)

I might share the rest of the leaks I got from Twitter actually, this is very exciting for me (very exhausting too)

That being said, look at him in the back!

I really hope he kept his original Hero outfit we saw in the anime because I thought that looked fantastic, so that's why I'm a little worried about people talking about how his outfit looks more like Aizawa's (⁠´⁠；⁠ω⁠；⁠｀⁠)

As much as I like the Aizawa - Shinso dynamic, I want to see Shinso grow! I want to see him carve out his own path in life!

I'm always happy to get Shinso content at this point so I can't be too picky, that being said it's not a bad name at all! (´∇｀)

Edit:

I feel the need to point out in Japanese it'll sound a little different than when it's spoken in English

In English, "Night" and "Hide" sound a little similar, only due to the middle "I"

In Japanese, "Night" will be said similar to "Nai-to" (high to low pitch) and hide will be "hai-do" (since this is also high to low pitch, the D is sharper and sounds similar to the T in "to" in "Nai-to")

It just sounds a little more uniform in Japanese, so I kind of understand why more people are put off by it in standard English

It's an okay name, not bad, and I think it actually fits Horikoshi's habits when it comes to Hero names -⁠ᄒ⁠ᴥ⁠ᄒ⁠-

"SunEater"

"EraserHead"

"All Might"

"Red Riot"

"BackDraft"

Combining 2 English words into 1 typically (obviously with exceptions like "Ingenium" or "Tsukuyomi")

"EdgeShot"

"Loud Cloud"

Overall he's just one to come up with quick, cheesy, partial English names for his characters - I think we've gotten so used to calling these people by their hero names that we forget how odd they must sound to outsiders (I remember thinking "Eraserhead" was a weird name for awhile as a kid actually) (⁠๑⁠¯⁠◡⁠¯⁠๑⁠)

[chaotic-mystery]

Code Red | Chapter Eleven: I Only See Daylight

Pairing: No outbreak AU dbf!Joel Miller x f!OC (told in 2nd POV)

Summary: You're back in Texas after going on vacation with Joel and needless to say, shit hits the fan.

Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI. Enemies to lovers, dads best friend Joel, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his forties), slow burn, written in 2nd POV, no use of y/n, broken father/daughter relationship, daddy issues, dd/lg relationship dynamic, serious conversations about kid(s), allusions to sex & taking photos during sex, swearing, mentions of drinking, reader smokes & sometimes Joel, A new song introduced to the universe!, hidden relationship, Joel wanting to fight your dad, the start of everything falling apart. Texts shared between reader & Joel.

Authors Note: Here we are. I know I haven't touched this story since May 14th and I'm not done with them quite yet. I plan to write ahead moving forward so I don't leave anyone on a cliffhanger. This is 100000% not beta'd (I didn't want to burden anybody) so the mistakes are all moi. There's little eggs hidden of when this was written and I hope you giggle when you catch them. Thank you if you're still reading their story, I don't plan on leaving again <3

|| wc: 4.8K || divider by @/anitalenia || previous chapter || series masterlist || main masterlist ||

It had been a few days since that night Sharon came by and woke you up at two in the morning, sticking her nose in your business about Joel. 

She was only worried about your dad finding out and how he would react, she said she didn’t tell your mom and nothing seemed different when you went over to her house to drive into town to shop, but it was eating away at you if she was actually putting on a show just like you had been. 

Sharon warned you to be safe and reminded you she was there if you needed anything but the way she was going about this worried you. She failed to mention how you should break it to  Sarah and you hadn’t even begun to think about how to have that conversation with her. Do you just…show up on the porch one day and tell her you’ve been seeing her dad for almost the past year?

 Scratch that, that’s a terrible idea. It was a conversation to be had with Joel and the last thing you wanted was to feel like you were replacing her as the number one woman in his life. All you ever dealt with as a kid was your dads girlfriends making it feel like a competition for who he loved the most and unfortunately you were never a first place winner. 

“Honey? Do you like this?” Your mom’s voice becomes clearer as you’re once again yanked from the seat inside your thoughts to the present time. 

The bright green hoodie she was holding up was so bright you damn near needed sunglasses just to lay eyes on it. Every muscle in your face fights to make a disgusted look but knowing your mom would be upset, you keep a straight face and quickly scan the metal racks surrounding you for a different option to counter it. Like a magnet, the pink hoodie with chunky writing on the back nearly jumps off the hanger and into your arms. 

“I think this one is a little more me, you think?” 

She nods her head and takes it from you, throwing it over her bent arm in front of her body. She told you to pick out something from the souvenir shop and she’d pay for it, also meaning to find something for Joel. What could he possibly want from here? He wasn’t really a hoodie kind of guy, especially not down in Texas when he was outside practically all the time. He had more than enough trucker hats to last him the rest of his life. 

“So tell me more about Joel, sweetheart, what’s his normal life like?” 

“Well, he’s my boss but that happened after we started dating. Umm, I mean he’s my neighbor which was also before we started dating, promise I didn’t move closer to him just because we’re together.”

Your mom nods with a small smile, her face relaxing as you soothe her mind in knowing she taught you well not to move so fast with someone you hardly know.

“He um, he’s got a kid..” you scratch your head and spin around to look at the clothes behind you, her eyes burning into the back of your skull. “..it’s really not that big of a deal, I don’t think. I haven’t really met her yet. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to replace her mom or take her dad from her.” The quiver in your voice surprises you both and your mom spins you back around, rubbing your arm caringly. 

You were terrified, truthfully. Telling Sarah about your relationship scared the shit out of you. Even thinking about Joel asking you to be responsible with Sarah scared the life from you. 

“Mommy, I’m so scared. What if she doesn’t like me and he breaks up with me? I mean, I wouldn’t want him to stay with me if she’s unhappy about it. I just…I love him.” Your voice was just above a whisper and the words felt as if they were slicing your throat on the way out. 

She says nothing as her lips pursed together into a frown and pulls you into her arms, hugging you tightly. Once more you felt like a little girl needing the comfort of your mother when things got tough. 

“You’ll be okay, I know it. Listen to me-” her hands grip your face to keep eye contact with you before she continues. “-you know better than anyone what that feels like and you’d do anything to protect that little girl, even if that means not seeing him anymore. You don’t have it in you to be that cruel. Just be yourself and she’ll see how happy you make him.”

Hearing testaments about your character always made you feel weird inside. It was never easy hearing how other people see you, especially when it’s positive. You look at her and she smiles assuringly before kissing the top of your forehead.

“Come on, let’s find something for Sarah.”

_

Holding onto the little beaded keychain in your hand, your mom pulls up to the quaint cabin you unfortunately had to say goodbye to tomorrow and she rubs your arm softly. 

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart. Just be honest with him about your feelings with this. It’s all valid.” 

You breathe in deeply and release the air out of your mouth, nodding at her. 

“I’ll be fine, I just need to go see him. I love you, I’ll stop by on the way to the airport.” 

You hated goodbyes. So it wasn’t saying goodbye to her, it was just telling her you’d see her later. You kiss her cheek and grab your bag of goodies from between your legs on the floor before getting out, standing out of the way so she could pull off. Jiggling the plastic bag in your hand nervously, you dig around in your purse until you feel the smooth carton of cigarettes and lighter clanking around inside.

The gray flint rubs against the pad of your thumb as you ignite the cigarette held between your lips, walking up to the small wooden porch to sit in the white rocking chair under the window. Too many thoughts about Sarah and all the ways she could react flood your thoughts again as you take a big drag to erase it all. Joel pushes the screen door open just enough to slip through and he nudges your knee gently. 

“Hungry? Made BLT sandwiches if you want one.” Joel presses a kiss to your cheek before taking the cigarette from between your fingers and taking a drag. 

“Tempting, maybe. I got you something from town, though!” You try to make it seem like you weren’t bothered by anything but he could read you like a goddamn book.

You were his favorite one.

His eyes fell to the bright blue shirt you were pulling out of the plastic bag, chuckling to himself before he even got to see the design. You finally get it out and flip it towards him so Joel could see what you picked out for him. 

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me. This is awesome.” 

Joel’s fingers trace over the goofy design of the state drawn as an old fashioned cartoon with feet holding it up and bright yellow letters across the top. He stares at the piece of clothing for longer than normal, continuously rubbing over the painted letters. The thought of you buying it for him, spending the time to find something he would wear, it meant a lot to him and it was written all over his face. 

“Thank you, baby. I love it.”

Joel sets it in the chair next to you and places both hands on either side of your chair, leaning down until he’s eye level with you. 

“My pretty girl, what’re you thinkin’ about in here?” As he finishes saying his sentence he bumps his forehead into yours, resting them together comfortably. 

Joel turns his face to the side for a moment to take another drag of the shared cigarette and he blows the smoke quickly to return back in position. Your eyes close as you relax against his touch, the slight breeze rustling against the trees and drowning out the sound of your mind screaming at you. The dooming thoughts of Sarah knowing about this could wait, you were here with the man of your dreams, having the time of your life and it was the last night before you had to unfortunately return to Texas and go back to hiding something you were so proud of. 

“I just wish we could run away somewhere where we don't have to hide our relationship. Where I can walk into the grocery store with you and not worry about still holding your hand, wondering if someone who knows my dad is gonna turn the corner and see it. I just- I want to love you loudly like you deserve. You aren’t meant to be a secret.”

Joel’s right hand rests on your crossed leg, rubbing your calf to ease you. 

“I’ll give you everything you could ever want and more, I swear it. How much time do I have to give it to you, though?” 

“I’ve got enough time for you, Miller. Not too long though, I’m not a patient person, ya know.” 

The thought of waiting an eternity for Joel Miller didn’t sound so bad, at least not to you. 

Every now and then you would get this feeling in your stomach thinking about Joel and how much you really did care for him and love him. It wasn’t a feeling you could quite pinpoint. The depth of sadness would overcome you just at the idea of losing him, knowing one day his footsteps wouldn’t grace this earth anymore. It was always sitting in the back of your mind, poking at you to love whatever time you got with him, because one day there wasn’t going to be this. 

“I love you, you know that?” Joel asks and kisses your lips before you can answer. 

The kiss quickly turns passionate and he backs up with your lips still glued to his, your body carrying you with every step he takes into the house. Joel leads you to the bedroom and tosses you on the bed lovingly, admiring the way your beautiful eyes glowed in the golden ray of sunlight seeping through the flowy curtains. 

“Let’s enjoy our last night here, yeah?” 

You grab your camera from the pocket of your sundress and grin at Joel, the gears turning inside his mind as he catches on. 

“To our last night.” 

_

Running on a few hours of sleep and the coffee not doing its job in your body, you yawn again as your Uber pulls up to your moms house. This was the part you were dreading the most, seeing your mom torn up that you’re leaving again. 

“Cmon, Mom, I gotta get going!” The fake happy tone was so apparent but it was easier to keep her up in good spirits if you pretended to be okay. 

Your mom comes around the corner from the kitchen, her hand towel tossed over her shoulder as she always did when she was doing dishes. She wipes her hands dry and hugs you so tight it feels like your eyes are going to pop out. 

“I love you so much, mommy. I’ll call you when I get back to Texas and I’m home safe, I swear it.” Fuck, and just like that, the quiver in your voice makes you start to break and before you can collect yourself, tears slipping from your eyes.

“I love you more, my baby. Have a safe flight, okay? Who knows, maybe I’ll come see you for the holidays in a few months.” She laughs to keep herself from crying but it only goes so far before you can feel her body jolt with every sob. 

The tight grip of her arms around your neck makes you giggle between your tears and she squeezes you once more before letting you go, standing up straight to get a good look at you before letting you leave her again and go spread your wings back to your home. 

“Come on, you’ve got a plane to catch!” 

You take her hand in yours and walk to your Uber, Joel getting out immediately to give her a hug goodbye. As you circle around the back of the car to get inside, you can’t help but notice Joel and your mom having some sort of quiet conversation you weren’t privy to. Swallowing dryly and wanting so bad to know what they were talking about, you climbed into the backseat of the car to give them privacy. Though it bothered you enough to dig your fingernail into the side of your thumb, you knew deep down it wasn’t anything bad they were sharing back and forth. 

Joel opens the door before finishing his goodbye to your mom. 

“Bye, we’ll see you soon!” He grins and gets inside the car, buckling up before waving to her as your driver starts to pull off. There was no shot in hell you could look at her as you drove away, not if you wanted to get to the airport with minimal tears.

Joel intertwined his fingers in yours and kisses the top of your hand to console you, take your mind off the fact you just left your mom again. 

It felt different this time, leaving her house. When you first left almost a year ago, you were beside yourself and so confused about what to do with your life, thinking you’d be making the right choice to chase your dad for one last shot at something with him, anything.

But, here you were now, hand in hand with the asshole you didn’t mean to fall for, crying over the two weeks you spent with him and your mom, watching him get to know her and love her the way you do. 

“Here, take this.” Joel holds out his wired headphone and you place it in your right ear, waiting to hear the music start.

All of the anxiety, love, fearfulness, joy, everything starts to mix together as the lyrics come over the stringed instrument.

Woah, my love, my darling

I've hungered for your touch

A long, lonely time

And time goes by so slowly

And time can do so much

Your tears well in your eyes until you can feel them about to fall, causing you to turn your head to look out the window, not wanting Joel to know you were crying. 

You had to give it to him though, playing the Righteous Brothers was such a Joel move and yet, you never saw it coming. 

Your heartbeat speeds up and it’s like you could feel the blood coursing your veins, the impending doom of not knowing how anything was going to be once you returned to Texas was going to send your body into overdrive. 

-

It was close to seven by the time you and Joel got back home, the streetlights glowing that familiar orange light at the beginning of your block as the sun started to go down behind the trees ahead of you. His hand rests comfortably on your thigh, rubbing slow circles into the fabric of your sweatpants as you two softly sing along to the radio playing a song from Queen, another fitting song for the moment. 

Under Pressure. 

As Joel’s pulling in front of your houses, the sheer panic of seeing your dads vehicle in Joel’s driveway sends your anxiety through the roof, your legs instantly unfolding from the passenger seat to sit straight up, trying to make it not look like what it was. 

“Did you know he was going to be here? What the fuck is he doing here?” 

“Uhhh, I don’t know why he’s here, baby. Just stay calm, okay? I got this.” Joel winks at you and turns the truck off, getting out to see what your dad wants. You sit there for a moment and contemplate sitting still until he leaves but who knows how long that would be. Swallowing harshly, you get out and stretch before you make your way to where your dad and Joel were standing at the end of the driveway. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Where’ve you been?” 

“Michigan, I went to go see mom” you say bluntly as you take your suitcases out of Joel’s truck in a bit of a rush, trying not to let Joel’s bags be seen. Your dad takes a puff of his cigarette and you can hear the snicker from him as a response to your business in Michigan. 

“And Joel came to get you? What did you bribe him with?” The dig at the both of you causes your brows to knit together in confusion at what he was trying to get at. 

“She didn’t bribe me with anything, asshat. She’s a good girl, she just couldn’t get a reliable friend to come get her, that’s all.” 

What your dad couldn’t see was Joel’s fist behind his back, opening and closing slowly to to calm himself down and not stick your dad right in his mouth for speaking about you that way. One day he would make him see you as a person and not some doormat he can walk all over, but it wasn’t going to happen today. Joel was too exhausted and worn out to be arrested.  

Your dad’s face changes when Joel sticks up for you and he clears his throat before flicking his cigarette butt into the street and tucking his beefy hands in his front pockets. 

“I know, I’m just messin’.”

“Well, um…thanks for coming to get me Joel. I appreciate it.” You hold out your hand for a handshake just to see if he takes the bait. The corner of his mouth turns up just enough for you to notice and falls back into place as he holds out his hand, shaking yours firmly. 

He takes one last glance at you before you take your bags and walk to your house, your face warm to the touch with the mixture of embarrassment and the need to walk right back up to him and kiss him the exact way you had been in public for the last two weeks. 

But you couldn’t. 

He wasn’t yours until he wanted to go public. 

Once you get inside and drop the bags off your shoulders to the floor, you tug your phone out of the pocket on your purse. 

8:11 PM [you]: I Miss you :( Come over when he’s gone?

8:24 PM [Joel]: I miss you too sweetheart. He just needs some tools, guess he’s setting up for a pool party tomorrow? Leave your bedroom lamp on if you want me to come by when he’s done. 

8:30 PM [you]: Oh? Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get an invite from him ;)

8:31 PM [you]: Aye aye, sir. 

You set your phone down on the counter before you drag the luggage bags upstairs to the dimly lit bedroom you’ve missed so dearly. The piles of clothes you left on the floor pad your footsteps as you try to find the lightswitch on the wall, lighting up the room to see just how disastrous you left it. 

It needed a good clean and it was on your agenda for tomorrow, for now you’re too tired to do anything besides rot on your couch and get caught up on Love Island, seeing how you missed the first couple of episodes while you were away. 

Rubbing the back of your neck while you scan the room, the sadness starts to settle in that you miss Joel. 

You were independent, sure, but being so close the past two weeks without having to hide with stolen glances and tender brushes of your hands behind the backs of everyone was really starting to get to you. 

Why did he have to be your dad’s best friend?

-

The TV drowned out your thoughts long enough to cause you to fall asleep on the living room sofa, attempting to wait for Joel to return. You reach down and grab your phone off the floor that had fallen a little while ago, opening it up to the text thread between you and Joel. 

8:30 PM [you]: Oh? Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get an invite ;)

9:02 PM [you]: Are you almost done? I wanna cuddle.

9:44 PM [you]: You’re missing a really good episode of Love Island. Remind me to get you a pair of overalls. 

The last message you sent was a half hour ago and still response. You get up and walk into your kitchen, peeking out the window that faced Joel’s house. The lights downstairs were on, that was the most you could see. No shadows, nothing. Wondering where they were, you put on your shoes and walk out to your car, clutching the throw blanket draped over your shoulders as if it were a cape.

You just came outside to grab something from your car, at least that was the story you were sticking with if you got busted by anyone. Opening the driver's side door and looking around, you see Joel’s garage door open and the two of them sitting in lawn chairs in the middle of the room, a few beer cans at Joel’s feet. So this is where he’s been the last two hours? 

You grab a tube of lip balm from the cup holder and close the door firmly, going back inside the house before you were spotted. With your back against the front door, you slide off your shoes and contemplate leaving the door unlocked for him. He didn’t have a key and you wanted him to spend the night, but he’d be more upset if you left it unlocked and fell asleep. 

Grabbing the deadbolt latch and locking the door, you sigh and walk back to the living room to pick up the mess you made. You fold the blanket back up and lay it across the back of the couch, grab your phone, and start making your way upstairs again. 

Sleep. You wanted to sleep. 

The glow from your lamp in the corner by the window illuminated just enough to let you see a clear path to your bed. Stopping to dig out your camera from your bag, you grab it and walk over to your bed. The wind blows in your window and causes the lace curtain to touch your leg, making you turn around to look outside once more before turning off the lamp and crawling into your bed. 

You turn on your camera and look through the last two weeks of your life and the creeping melancholia comes over you. Photos of Joel in the ice cream parlor, the two of you playing cards with your mom, little moments you’ll have forever. He hated being in photos when you first met him, now he couldn’t resist smiling as big as he could when your camera was out. 

It was a little past ten when you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand behind you. Too tired to answer it or to even move, you settle down into your bed further until you fall asleep.

10:21 PM [Joel]: I’m sorry sweetheart. Didn’t know he’d be over that long. Sweet dreams. Proud you locked the front door. Love you. 

The message was the second thing you woke up to this morning. The first thing was Joel on your front porch with a bag from the grocery store with breakfast ingredients inside. He kissed your cheek after making his way to the kitchen. Hours after he made you two breakfast, you got dressed for the day. 

“Forgot to tell you, I did get invited to your dads pool party. He said he’d text you about it.” 

Joel wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you against him gently while you adjust your necklace. His chin rests in the crook of your neck and looks at you through the mirror in front of you. 

“He won’t. I could just show up and crash the party though.” 

“It would make it so much better, I’ll tell you that right now, baby. We should probably go separately though. Best we lay low for a while.”

Lay low for a while. Right. 

Joel turns you around and cups your face. “Don’t give me that look, that’s not fair.” 

You stop pouting and groan loudly before putting your forehead on his chest. Joel kisses your head and stands you straight up, kissing your cheeks until you smile. You kiss his lips passionately and stand still as he starts to make his exit. 

“No pouting today. It’s a pout free day. Let’s get rollin’ baby. I love you, I’ll see you there okay?” 

Joel taps the door frame as you nod and he grins, walking downstairs and you don’t move until you hear the front door close. 

-

The music booms out of the speakers in your dads backyard and it overpowers your car radio as you pull into the driveway, parked right next to Joel’s truck. 

You walk in the front door and head to the kitchen where you hear voices echoing off the walls. A few of your dad’s colleagues stand there chatting away with small plates of finger food in their hands, colorful solo cups scattered along the countertop with various types of drinks. 

The kitchen looked amazing. You hadn’t seen it completed since Joel finished working on it. He was damn good at his job and you felt so proud of him, even if I was unfortunately at your dads house. 

“Look what the cat dragged in!” The hair on your arms raises at the annoying tone of Janet. 

“Kitchen looks nice, sure hope you paid him well” you snark back, a little cattier than you anticipated. 

She smiles sarcastically and walks towards the room behind you. Joel strolls in with your dad in tow, tugging on Joel’s white t-shirt as they laugh and you can barely make out what they’re talking about. 

“What’s up, kiddo?” Joel asks as he leans his hip against the counter and pours a drink for himself. 

You try to avoid looking him in the eyes as best as you can but you only last a few seconds. Right on cue Joel has that grin on his face, the one you only see when he’s with you. The one that holds back so many things he wishes to say. 

Janet walks back to the side of your dad like the good pet she prides herself to be, Joel standing next to you, not nearly as close as you’d like. 

“So, your dad tells me you went to Michigan? How’d you get so much time off already when you just started working?” Janet smirks and hides it with her cup, narrowing her eyes onto you. 

You ready up a loaded answer when Joel starts speaking before you. 

“I gave her the time off, no questions asked. I knew she missed her mom and felt she’d be more energized at work if she got some time from here. She does good work for me.” Dad and Janet couldn’t register his tone like you could. They were far too out of touch to see he was talking to them as if they were children. A subtle tone change was enough for you to notice his feelings on the question Janet had no business asking. 

“I stopped by your office the other day to give you the final check and Tommy said you were out of town?” 

Joel doesn’t shift his body once.

“Yeah, went to go get some wood out northeast.” His fake smile was enough to shut her up for now. It’s dancing too close for comfort and only she seems to notice the damning timelines. Your dad wasn’t putting the pieces fast enough like Janet was. 

“Can someone show me where the coolers are? I need a drink” you ask awkwardly, trying to remove yourself from this clusterfuck. 

Joel steps backwards and motions for you to go ahead in front of him. You set your bag down in the barstool right by the counter and walk outside trying to shake every bit of that conversation off of you. 

The lights were getting brighter as the sun continued to set, people mingling with you and Joel, talking about whatever. It was nice to hear other people’s life stories and how shitty their day-to-day life was. 

Janet comes out and makes a b-line towards you, your pink camera in her grubby hand. 

“You wanna explain this?” She asks in that smartass tone she always uses when she knows something you don’t. As she tosses the device to you, it lands screen faced up and on a photo of you and Joel on the beach your mom took. 

So much for laying low.

[tinytime10]

I have more head cannons for warriors. Also thank you to everyone who voted on my, (What is the next story I write) vote. “Left in the cold.” is almost done. I'm just finishing up the editing. I should be able to post it soon but for now have some more head cannons centered specifically around the hylein body, and habits that manifest in a physical sense.

All right let's talk ears, Warriors have very expressive ears when he's relaxed and comfortable around the chain. He's very good at stopping his ears from portraying his true emotions when he's around the people he's trying to lie to.

Warriors will rub his ears when he's nervous or upset as a way to calm himself down. It's just one of his ways of self-soothing. Parents will rub their young children's ear to get them to stop crying because it feels good and comforting. So Warriors will do it with a mask when he is having nightmares or otherwise upset. Zelda will kiss the back of Warriors’s ear as a show of affection. Warriors loves it. He also finds the fact that time will kind of nibble at melon's ears and a playful affectionate way super adorable 

I think that the Hylian body is way tougher than the human one. You know how humans have like three layers of skin highlyans have eight. Their bones are just a lot more tough. They have better hearing and night vision but the sense of smell and touch is about the same. 

All of the links share the habit of messing with the back of their hair when they are nervous or embarrassed. I just find it hilarious that literally all of them do it.

 Just like myself, Warriors will comfort himself by hugging his middle. He absolutely hates other people touching his sides or his waste. But he'll hug his middle because it makes him feel more secure. During the war he wrapped his waist tightly with bandages, because that pressure feels comforting. After the war he wears a corset for medical reasons, that was actually a thing way back when. The Physicians made him one after the war to help with his injuries. He just kind of wears it all the time under his clothing. Cuz it's really easy to stealth the corset when his uniform is already so baggy.

 Speaking of uniforms, he is walking around in about 30 lb worth of chainmail. He has like 8 layers. an undershirt and trousers, a gambeson, chainmail, the Green Heroes Tunic, his armor, and his scarf. One side effect of all of these layers is the way they fall, he has extremely feminine hips because he cinches his belt so tight and his hip bones stick out so much anyway because he's so thin. The way the chainmail lays smooths out his figure, giving him extremely feminine hips.

 On that note he mastered that Mom hip carry. You know what I mean, where Mom will just stick out one hip a little further and rest the baby on it. He would carry Mask around all day, going about his duties in the war camp. Mask either loved it or hated it depending on the day. He frequently was made fun of by his own soldiers and a lot by his commanding officers.  He was called a Teen Mom for years he leaned into the title as a joke and it weirdly stuck, to the point where mask and tune would accidentally call him mom on occasion. Time will make a lot of jokes about Warriors being the mom friend during the linked universe adventure. He'll just start acting like the whole chain are his rowdy sons.

Warriors would never undress in front of any one of the chain for a very long time. Long after his facade cracked he still refused to let them see him even take his gloves off. He was fine with everyone else but not himself. At one point he is injured very badly and is unconscious. To Times utter consternation and aggressive objections, Twilight and Sky make the decision to leap over that boundary they know he has and undress him to get to his wound and save his life. When he wakes up shirtless and bound in bandages, the rest of his brothers have a lot of concerned questions. His brothers are smart enough to know what scars were earned from battle and what scars were done by his own hand.

 He has to explain his bad habits, and promise that he's getting better and not hurting himself very much anymore. Of course his brothers are horrified and heartbroken that the perfect captain they'd all grown to love had such terrible scars on his arms  and his chest there are scratch marks on his sides that only some of the older members of the chain recognized as being done by Hylian nails not the claws of monsters. Cia left her marks on him and Sky tried to ask about them but Time shot him down quicker than Warriors could.

 Another discovery they made that day was that Warriors has two tattoos. One, an eating disorder progress tattoo  and One he shares with time. He, Masks and Tune got matching tattoos at the end of the war. Wind is too young to have his, but he is the one who designed it during the war. It is a sword stabbed into the waves of the ocean, around the hill is tied a ribbon with the Kokiri symbol. A design meant to incorporate all three of the war brothers. 

Before the war the captain was a wild child, Impa punished him severely because that seemed to be the only way he would listen. There is a patch on his upper arm that is a mess of perfectly lined up scars overlapping years of punishment. It was a comin military punishment for drinking, 2 small cuts to the arm, not meant to really do any real damage just enough to hurt. Every time he drinks on duty he adds to that number of scars. Which is far too many to count by the time he joins the chain. 

Warriors is extremely suicidal at the beginning of LU. Even though he tries to hide it from his brothers, his sense of humor is extremely dark and twisted. Time and strangely enough Legends are the only ones who seem to really understand his darker humor. he makes jokes about suicide or self-harm a lot. They thought it was just jokes so when his brother's saw the scars themselves, they knew a lot of the methods he'd used against himself by that point, just from the jokes he'd made.

 Four Will aggressively braid comb and demand they wash their hair and bodies frequently see the last  repost for better clarification on why. He does this with the whole chain except for Warriors. Four is understanding about the fact that Warriors hates having his hair touched by other people. So Four takes meticulous care of Warriors’s gear. He’ll ask to oil and maintain Warriors’s weapons for him. He will service his shield and armor because if the captain takes care of himself so meticulously, Four will do the same for his gear, as a way of showing his friendship and care.

 All right, that's everything I can think of now. Thank you to the like two or three people who actually care. Us Warriors fans are starved for content. My fellow Hyrule Warriors fans I bring sustenance.

[gothamite-rambler]

Stop hitting him with the cattle prod!

Damian, patrolling as Robin alongside the rest of his Batfamily, picked up a rod with electrodes at the end. He seemed intrigued by the device while staying close to Tim (Red Robin).

Robin (holding up the rod, eyes gleaming): I found this long stick. Can I keep it, Father?

Batman (raising an eyebrow): Are you aware of what that is?

Robin (lying with a mischievous grin): No. It seems to be a poker of sorts. Hey, what does this button do?

Robin pointed the electrodes right at Red Robin's arm and pressed the button on the bottom, delivering a mild shock.

Red Robin (rubbing his arm, annoyed): Ow!

Robin (feigning innocence, wide-eyed): Huh… that is so strange. Is this a long taser? Oh, sorry, Red Robin, my mistake—your arm was in the way.

He shocked Red Robin again, this time eliciting a giggle as the prod hit his hip.

Batman (scolding tone, stepping forward): Stop standing next to him. Robin, give me the weapon!

Robin (pouting defiantly): No, I want to keep it! This is a fantastic weapon! Let me test it again.

Red Robin felt another shock hit his arm and scowled, trying to ignore how he low-key enjoyed the sensation. He wasn’t about to show that in public… again.

Red Robin (forcing his voice to sound mad): Stop it!

Robin (pretending to be apologetic, smirking): I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Definitely wasn’t intending to do that. Not like I secretly heard you enjoy this or anything.

Robin aimed for Red Robin's leg in a quick, sneak hit that made the older man bite his lip to suppress a smile.

Robin (snickering): It's probably not working anymore. Father, do you know what this is called?

Batman (aggravated, pinching the bridge of his nose): You're very aware that’s a cattle prod. Stop torturing your brother with it!

Red Robin (blushing deeply): Yeah… torturing!

Robin (feigning ignorance again, tilting his head): Cattle… prod. Huh? Seems to work on humans well, too. Let me see if it actually works; I have to make sure.

Red Robin tried to walk away, but Robin quickly aimed the prod against his neck, causing him to moan in pleasure before collapsing to the ground. Robin laughed in a high-pitched manner while Red Robin turned a deep shade of crimson.

Batman covered his mouth, unsure how to react. He sighed and shook his head in disbelief. Nightwing and Red Hood arrived just in time to witness the final shock, hearing Red Robin's involuntary moan.

Red Hood (raising an eyebrow, unsure): Was that a moan of pain or—

Nightwing (blushing furiously): Please don't finish that sentence! Robin, give me this!

Nightwing snatched the cattle prod and handed it to Batman. Red Hood nodded, shaking his head, clearly amused but feeling as uncomfortable as Nightwing and Batman.

Batman (pointing the prod at Red Robin): Thank you… Probably should’ve taken that before he aimed for the neck. Red Robin, are you okay?

Red Robin (lying flat on the ground, voice muffled): I’m fine. Just walk away with your child before I kick him!

Batman nodded, grabbing Robin by the cape and dragging him away, although the grin on Robin's face showed no sign of regret or shame.

Red Hood (bluntly asking, smirking): The kid is gone. What’s your sex life like?

Red Robin, caught off guard, casually kicked Red Hood in the stomach. Nightwing crossed his arms and nodded, not blaming Red Robin for his reaction—especially since Red Hood had asked him the same question after he got back with Kori.

Back in the Batmobile, Batman rested his head on the steering wheel, the mission over, while trying to block the scene that had just unfolded.

Robin (eagerly): Father, can I keep—

Batman (interrupting firmly): No! You know what this is used for—you were horrified by it.

Robin (shrugging, a sly smile creeping in): Yeah, but using a weapon I see as evil to embarrass someone felt… satisfying.

Batman (reluctantly, glancing at him): You weren’t supposed to use that lesson for that. Stay in the car, and I’m keeping this away from you!

Batman smacked his son lightly on the back of the head before stepping out of the car. Robin crossed his arms, pouting, but then shrugged while snickering again.

Tim has turned pain into pleasure... good for him

[grogusmum]

Rules: write a story [300-1000 words] based on this moodboard. You don't need to include every aspect of it, but there must be a reference to at least 2 pictures besides JOEL [who is our PP boy for this challenge]. It can be any genre, smut/no smut, everything is up to you. Write, edit and post your work [you can use the moodboard or text me and i'll send you the pics from it that inspired you to make your own cover for your fic] and tag me in it.

@iamasaddie

I'm sorry I'm late. This was written in my drafts on my phone 😬 but it's done, so I'm yeeting out there...

Let's visit with Joel and Catnip again, shall we...

Please Mister Please

Apple Pie

JOEL MILLER X F!READER

WARNING: 18+ a little truck bed sex

Evenings under the stars in the gazebo became a regular thing, as did finding little moments to "mess around", as Joel liked to put it...

Joel will do whatever the community needs of him, he will go on patrol, he'll peel potatoes, he'll bring the sheep in (he enjoys this one a far bit).

Today, he's returning from a run. It's one of the few things he looks at Tommy with eyes saying, if there isn't any one else.

Whether it reminds him of his old life, or he worries more about not getting back to Ellie and you, you're not sure... maybe a bit of both. But if you've ever seen him drive through the gate, you'd see his shoulders go down an inch, his jaw loosen, and the crinkle between his brows- well that stays resolutely in place except in his most peaceful sleeps.

He does the same thing every time he gets back. He radios Tommy, checks on Ellie, and then finds you, his Catnip. He'll pull up to your shop or cabin, "your song" playing on the old tapedeck of the Bronco.

"Hey there, how'd it go"

"Fine, fine..." Joel looks at you, drinking you in. "Go fer a ride?"

You smile and put the "back in a few" sign on the door and hop in.

"You know," you say as he takes your hand. "They send you because you're good at it. And they trust you to bring back whomever goes with you. "

"I know" he sighs.

"What are we doin?"

"Wanna mess around?" His eyes slide to yours, his mouth quirking a naughty smile. Then it widens at your returning smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief.

He parks the truck in an out of the way spot camouflaged by trees.

Joel pulls some blankets out of the back and winks as he hauls himself out of the truck.

"You planned this before going on your run?" You wonder in disbelief as he opens your door (you have learned to wait for him, after he near pouted at you not letting him "treat you right".)

"It's the carrot," Joel says matter of factly, "keeps me goin"

"Ellie keeps you going."

Yeah, but she's a teenager," he sighs, " sometimes I can't tell if she's the carrot or the stick."

"Joel!" You admonish can't keep the laughter out of your scolding.

***

Joel's large palm glides up your now bare torso, coming to rest at the swell of your breast. Your fingers play at his bare chest, tracing patterns. His broad shoulders casting you in shadow. His eyes trained on your lips, slowly rise to meet yours. Soft and warm, full of all he can't quite find the words for.

Thank you for loving me despite my brokenness.

I will work every day to derserve it

The kisses are slow and unhurried. You can feel him against your leg while he presses, slowly grinding, this too lazy and almost without a goal.

"Feels good," he rumbles in your ear, "soft."

You roll on top, slipping together like puzzle pieces.

"Hi."

"Hello, darlin"

You kiss his lips, his nose and eyelids, while he nips at the underside of your chin. Trying to convey what he can't hear

I've got my cracks, too

You deserve good things, Joel

A deep rumble escapes Joel, as you press your center against him. Eyes closed, you move against each other with growing need. Your secret sighs and moans heared only by the birds, how bright and wet Joel's eyes are is guarded by the trees standing silent sentry.

THANK YOU FOR READING 💚

Your comments and reblogs are so appreciated. If you care to read more of my writing, click the link to my masterlist, and if you'd like to join my taglist, click this link

[alex-rewrites-hellaverse]

My least favorite Hazbin designs are definitely Lucifer, and Alastor, I can't pick between them but they definitely suck.

Like, that is the devil. From the bible. Why does he look at that? Why does his snake look like a worm, why does he look so young, why does his daughter look like his sister?

Alastor is supposed to be a black man from the 1920s and deeply attached to it. Why is his hair like that? Why that suit? Why is it tattered? Why are his ears like that?? They look like more of his messed up hair than anything resembling ears, and they make you miss his antlers until he goes more demon-y.

Dishonorable mention to Husk, that man should not be a twig, why does he have wings when wings are shown to be important through Vaggie's story, why is he a cat with wings to begin with? If they were clipped that'd be another thing! But they clearly aren't!

In Helluva it's Martha's demon form, and Andrealphus. Martha's horns don't look like horns, they mostly look like branches coming out of her head. There isn't any sign for how she died, and the only one to who she was in life was the polka dot shirt she was wearing, and with her being a satanist why is her design so.. boring? Un-devil or demon-y? The storyboard's design for her was so much better!

And Andrealphus.. his colors, while very different from what we see in the rest of the show, feel like they blend together too much on his design. Going into the actual design.. what bird is he supposed to be? And why do he and Stella not share any features? Why did he have to be another stick thin femme gay man? His outfit doesn't tell you anything about his status, his story, and makes him look like a bird version of the snow queen. It also hides his main bird feature besides his face, his tail, which might make it more clear the type of bird he is, if we could see it.

Honestly I feel like all of these designs have potential, they could've worked with tweaks, keeping in mind who the figures are in mythology, what time period they relate to the most, so on so forth. But with how they are right now? They make me want to just ask why, what the thought process behind them is.

I'm curious about something.

Which design in HH/HB do you hate the most? It can be due to inaccuracies, repetition, a design tropes you're sick of, or anything else!