#I'm so excited this is going to be so much fun and feels

[lvis44]

Cabin Fever - Pt. 1 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Lewis being an ass, allusions to mental health struggles, 18+ MINORS DNI, not edited

Word Count: 5.6k+

Summary: He's your Sister in Laws best friend, you shouldn't even have to deal with him. Always seeming like a cocky arrogant prick, and now here he is crashing your family Christmas. Can you handle a full week of Lewis Hamilton? Or might he not actually be as bad as he seems?

Notes: Here is the beginning of my mini holiday series. A little bit of cheesy hallmark style enemies to lovers for your winter season! It will pickup quickly and I don't expect it to be too long but I'm excited to write some over dramatic cheesy angsty fluffiness! Best believe we will have it all lol

As always, I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy!

“Hey Y/N, everything is all set for when you land tomorrow! Dylan got you a rental car so you can go out whenever you want, it’s a bit of a drive from the airport but it’ll be so cozy once you get here! Oh my god I can’t wait, this whole thing is a dream come true.” Vanessa's voice cut through your voicemail loudspeaker as you applied your makeup. You were getting ready for a night out with your friends when you saw your sister in law's voicemail, you knew you couldn't ignore it, you knew she was in the middle of planning the family Christmas vacation, the one you were immensely dreading.  You decided on sending her a voice note back, not wanting to deal with the full three hour phone call that would ensue, making you late to your friends party.

“Hey V, thank you so much, and tell Dyl thank you too, I appreciate you guys figuring out the flights, let me know what I owe you guys later, I can’t wait to see you guys.” You say into your phone with forced enthusiasm, not wanting to go to the gathering in the first place. 

You grew up in New England, the winter season always took a toll on you. You didn’t like to ski or snowboard so once you were no longer a small child, the only thing that winter brought was shoveling and grey skies, both of which you hated. Once you were old enough and had enough money, you decided to move to the golden state, LA specifically, somewhere you would never see snow in your driveway again. Unfortunately your brother had remained glued to the winter life, settling down in snowy Colorado where he decided that his first family home needed to be celebrated by all. You couldn’t blame him really, it was bigger and nicer than anywhere you had ever lived. He and Vanessa were desperate for their first guests, eager to show off their beautiful new house and host both of your families at once. It seemed like a brag for Vanessa while your brother seemed to be in awe by the size of house they had moved into.

When you arrived at the club your friends were already deep, a few drinks ahead of you and in a much more playful mood than you were feeling. You were doing your best to let loose and have a good time but the nagging knowledge of your flight the next day was sitting heavy in the back of your brain. You were only half listening to one of your friends gush about some attractive man she was eyeing when you felt your phone buzz, a text from your brother Dylan to remind you of your flight as if it wasn’t the only thing you were thinking about already. You excused yourself as you headed to the bar in search of a new drink. While you were waiting a man appeared beside you, closer than you would have liked. You could smell the liquor on his breath before he even started speaking to you.

“Pretty girl having to buy her own drinks? Now this is just ridiculous.” He tried to flirt with you, his words slurring as they came out.

You forced out a polite laugh, before turning back to the bar, hoping the bartender would come soon.

“Oooh I see, she’s playing hard to get.” He said as if to someone else before he leaned closer to you. “C’mon lemme buy you a drink.”

“Doesn’t need you to, she’s got me, fuck off dude.” The voice came from behind you, immediately recognizable, Lewis. You wanted to roll your eyes, not particularly wanting to deal with him tonight but deciding he was better than the man that was currently ogling you.

“Shit, fine alright man, my bad.” The drunk man fumbled his words, seeming slightly startled and rather intimidated by Lewis. He started to stumble away, impressing you by how quickly he gave up but you couldn’t really blame him, Lewis had a certain aura about him that really told you not to mess with him.

As the drunk man left you felt Lewis take his spot next to you at the bar, not bothering to look at him, not really wanting to interact with him at all. You only knew Lewis through your sister in law Vanessa, they were family friends so he was around for important moments, holidays, birthdays, weddings etc. Those were the only times you ever interacted with him and every time you had left with a bad taste in your mouth. He seemed aloof, cocky, like he thought he was too good for the rest of humanity. He was annoyingly attractive and he knew it, you’d overheard him spitting game at more than a few women at your brother's wedding, and almost every single one of the women was falling for it. He had a way of carrying himself that just oozed arrogance, like everything about him was a level above everything and everyone else. You also had a certain distaste for the fact that every time you spoke to him he seemed to find a way to belittle you, talk down to you in a way that made you feel like a child despite being a fully grown woman. You had figured that you would be seeing him at some point this upcoming week, knowing Vanessa would have invited him for some part, but you didn’t think it would be at home in a club in LA that you first bumped into each other, never having done so before.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Colorado?” He asks, his voice already holding that familiar layer of judgement that you’ve grown to despise.

“Flights tomorrow morning.” You tell him, keeping it short, hoping the conversation doesn’t need to be much longer than necessary.

“Flight in the morning and you’re out at a club?” He quizzes you and you can hear in his voice that he’s getting ready to offer you advice you really don’t want or need.

“Just wanted to blow off a little steam before a week in paradise.” You huff, waving to the bar tender yet again, not meaning to let the last part slip so sarcastically.

“You act like we’re locking you in a dungeon and throwing away the key.” He almost chuckles before downing the rest of whatever had been in his cup.

“We?” You ask abruptly, finally turning to look at him. You had been anticipating seeing him but the way he said that made it sound like he was going to be around quite a bit more than expected. It truly pissed you off that the second you finally faced him, you were checking him out, such a pretty face with such an annoying attitude.

“I’ll be in Colorado for the week.” He said plainly with a shrug.

“At Dylan and Vanessas?” You asked in an almost panicked tone that he immediately noticed.

“Jeez, chill out, I’ve got my own place out there. Little miss perfect won’t have to worry about mean ol’ Lewis all week, I’ll just be around here and there.” His tone was teasing as he said it, making you roll your eyes, unsure of how else to respond. Before you could think of anything to say the bartender finally arrived in front of you, Lewis was ordering something before elbowing you, prompting you to tell the man what you wanted.

“You’re welcome by the way.” Lewis said, his voice smug as the bartender walked away.

Once again you found yourself rolling your eyes before forcing yourself to thank him for the drink, “Thank you, but you didn’t actually have to buy me a drink.”

“Your eyes are gonna get stuck like that if you keep rolling them that hard.” He told you, an unamused look on his face.

“You sound like my father.” You grumbled.

“Well maybe he has a point,” He shrugged, “but I wasn’t talking about the drink, was talking about your stupid drunk man. Gotta find better company.”

“I didn’t exactly invite him over here, Lewis. And I didn’t ask for you to come rescue me.” You snapped.

“Well you're V’s sister in law now and she's my little sis so I kinda had to.” He stated plainly as the bartender finally returned.

You watched as Lewis turned on his charm for the man, thanking him and giving him a generous tip, showing the side of the man that everyone else seemed to see all the time, one that he never reserved for you.

“Enjoy your drink and then go home, don’t miss your flight because you were out partying or show up hungover. Just get yourself there in one piece, that’s literally all they ask of you.” His words are directed at you again, coming out with an assumed authority that baffles you.

“I’m a grown woman Lewis, I’ll be just fine.” You bite at him, annoyed that he thinks he has the right to tell you what to do.

“I know Y/N, I know.” He says with a sigh as he grabs his drink. You watch as he steps around you, leaving back into the crowd without even a proper parting word. It once again causes you to roll your eyes before making your way back to your own friends.

“Okay, hot man at the bar, do you know him?” Your friend Lillian was leaning on you almost immediately, digging for info on Lewis that second you were within earshot.

“Uh, kinda, not really, he’s kind of an ass.” You tell her, hoping to dissuade her.

“Well with a face like that he can be an ass to me anytime he wants.” She says enthusiastically.

You just humm in response, returning your attention to your drink, not really wanting to further discuss Lewis and his annoying ways or aggravating beauty. His words about not missing your flight bounce around in the back of your head, of course you had already been aware of not being late but now it was all that was on your mind. Between his words and Dylans reminder you suddenly felt as if everyone was expecting you to flake, not actually convinced you were going to show up at all. Before you could even finish your drink you were deciding to leave, truly not in the party mood any longer. As you made your way to the door you just knew he was watching you, you could feel it and you hated that he was getting the confidence of seeing you do exactly what he told you to.

. . . 

Your morning had been hell, your flight having been delayed three times due to incoming weather. When you finally landed in Colorado you were well and truly in a cranky mood, one that only turned even further sour when the woman at the rental agency got snappy with you for being late for your pickup. You had tried to explain to her that your brother had made the reservation and that your flight was delayed but her attitude did not budge. She remained snippy with you as she grumbled about ‘finding you something to take’ before handing you the keys to a tiny sedan. When you approached it in the lot you were at your wits end, it's not that you needed something fancy or luxurious, it was the fact that the car you were looking at seemed as light as could be and evidently still had summer tires on it. There was a big winter storm brewing and you knew you still had at least a 45 minute drive to your brother's house, one that you hadn’t been looking forward to anyway. The snow was already coming down as you sat in the parking lot waiting for the car to warm up at least enough to defrost the windshield, you listened to the man on the radio talk about the incoming storm, saying it was set to be the biggest snowfall the area had seen in years and it was going to come down quick. You couldn’t help but grumble to yourself about your displeasure for the snow  as you texted your brother to let him know that you were getting on the road.

The storm thankfully decided to be merciful, only really beginning to pick up in the very last stretch of your journey, barely even causing any delay for you. When you got to your brother's house you could feel yourself letting out a sigh of relief, knowing that soon enough you would be inside a warm and cozy house with the people that you love, hopefully eating good food and having a cocktail. The moment your brother opened the front door you were met with the smell of a fireplace and something cooking for dinner, your tension slipping away just a bit more.

“Y/N! Thank god, I was getting worried when I saw the snow picking up.” Dylan said cheerfully, pulling you into the house to give you a tight hug.

“Hi Dyl, it’s definitely getting heavy out there but I think I missed the worst of it.” You can’t help but laugh slightly at how tightly your brother has embraced you.

“Come in, V’s got dinner going, Dad was just getting ready to make a round of drinks.” He rambles to you as he pulls you further in the house, reaching around to grab your suitcase off the porch.

“The Holidays can now begin, my other baby has arrived!”  Your moms voice carries loudly from the kitchen before you see her almost jogging in your direction, her arms wide ready for an embrace.

“Mom,” you laugh as she squeezes you even tighter than Dylan had, “you knew I was coming. Sorry I’m late guys, the airport was insane.”

“Sounds like you could use a drink Kiddo.” Your dad is next to pull you into a hug, not even having made it out of the foyer yet.

“I will take you up on that, I also need to change into something a little warmer, I dressed for cold LA not Colorado.” You admit as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, making you feel like a child.

“Yeah for sure, let me show you your room and then you can come say hello to everyone in the kitchen once you've changed.” Dylan says, grabbing your bag and already making his way up the stairs.

“This place is beautiful, Dylan.” You tell him earnestly as you follow him down the long hallway. It’s everything that you would imagine if someone told you they had purchased a Chateau in Colorado, deep exposed wood, high ceilings, massive windows. You were excited to see the rest of it, knowing Vanessa would be adamant about giving you a full tour. It was much too big for what they needed but you figured that didn’t matter as long as they were happy.

“Thank you, it’s really a dream come true. Never thought I would live in a place like this, much less own it.” He confesses as he swings open the door to a room at the end of the hall.

You offer your brother a warm smile before you turn to take in the room, suddenly stunned when you see the size and luxury of it. The room is expansive, massive windows on two walls and what appears to be a large balcony off the back. There is a sitting area in front of a fireplace and what appears to be a king size bed in the middle of the room. You can see another door off to the side and you can only assume it is a private bathroom.

“Dylan what the fuck? Why does it look like the master suite?” You ask him, overwhelmed, not having expected anything so grand.

He just shrugs with a smile as he steps further into the room, placing your luggage down next to the bed. “We just wanted you to be comfortable, we know this year has been hard for you and winter isn’t something you get along with, we’re just grateful you decided to come.”

“Dylan, I am not kicking you guys out of your room, oh my god.” You start to panic, immediately feeling guilty.

“No, you’re not,” He laughs at you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “this is a guest suite, it's just the nicest of them.”

You let out a breath before feeling guilty again, “No what about mom and dad, or Beatrice and Tom, they should be in here, I just need a bedroom, this is too much.”

“Stop, everyones already settled, and we all agreed that you should have your own space, away from the rest of us. It only seemed fair.” His voice is sincere, not giving you any time to rebuttal before he is leaving the room and telling you to get changed.

By the time you make your way back downstairs everyone has settled in the den with drinks in their hand. You had to wander a bit at first, following the sounds of voices and laughter. The room was cozy, still sprawling but the lights were dim and the furniture was plush. You could hear the storm truly picking up outside, the trees snapping back and forth in the wind outside the window making you grateful for the fire crackling in the corner.

“Perfect, Y/N, I have a drink ready for you right here!” Vanessa called to you as you walked into the room.

“Thank you so much, this place is beautiful.” You tell her as you settle into the seat beside her, taking the drink and giving her a small hug.

“Ugh, thank you, this place is just such a dream come true, straight out of a fantasy.” She gushes immediately, promising to give you a tour once you've had some time to relax.

“Y/N, good to see you, feels like it's been a while.” Tom, Vanessa’s father, speaks up from across the room, raising his glass of whiskey in your direction. You offer him a smile, feeling a moment of guilt wash over you, knowing you had been invited to a few celebrations where your paths would have crossed but had decided against attending.

“She’s a busy woman, always nice to have her around when we get the chance.” Dylan pipes up, offering you a subtle save, knowing you probably don’t want to get too much into your personal life at the moment.

The conversation thankfully moves on, Tom choosing to change direction and grill Dylan on everything that is going on for him with his company, ever protective of Vanessa even now that they're married and in this beautiful home. Your mother on the other hand chooses to come sit next to you and Vanessa, Beatrice following her shortly thereafter. They do ask about your life in LA but Vanessa's mother is more interested in hearing if you’ve had any celebrity sightings than she is about your woes in life. Your mother wants to show off photos of art projects she’s been doing to keep herself busy. You can’t help but laugh at the two older women as you settle into the evening, nursing your drink as you share amused glances with Vanessa every once in a while. Every so often you hear the wind outside pick up, the storm casting a white haze over the large window at the end of the room. When you hear the doorbell you glance around the room, unsure of who would still be yet to arrive, especially so late and in the storm. Vanessa looks confused as well, Dylan getting up to go check the door.

“Hey man, didn’t expect to see you for another day or two.” You hear Dylan greet someone enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I caught an earlier flight out trying to avoid the storm and ended up landing smack in the middle of it. Wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it back this way in the next few days so I figured I’d stop on my way out to my house.” The familiar British accent carries through the house, Vanessa's face lighting up as she darts up from her seat, ready to go greet her friend.

You feel yourself deflate slightly, having been enjoying the casual and kind air of the evening, knowing his presence would definitely cause a difference. You hear their voices approach from down the hall, Tom and Beatrice standing up, excited to see the man they have long adopted as a son. You always wondered if part of Tom was disappointed that Lewis and Vanessa hadn't ended up together, merely from the way that Tom's attention would end up solely on Lewis when he was around, almost entirely ignoring your brother. 

“Son, always a pleasure. How was your flight?” Tom asks the moment Lewis appears in the room, pulling him into a fatherly hug.

“Good to see you, sorry to pop in unannounced.” Lewis starts politely, turning on the charm toward Beatrice.

“Never worry, you’re always welcome.” She gushes, so happy to see him. It does make you laugh to yourself, it’s not her house to extend the invitation to but you’re not surprised.

He gives her a warm smile before continuing, “Yeah, flight was alright, a little choppy but nothing too bad. The airport here was a disaster though, glad I’d left my car there, the rental lot was picked through and cabs aren’t taking anyone past town.”

“Yeah, Y/N was saying the airport was crazy, I think she got the last rental car on the lot.” Dylan says, suddenly making Lewis aware of your presence, his eyes snapping to you.

“You remember Dylan's little sister,” Beatrice begins before Lewis is politely cutting her off.

“Y/N, of course,” He nods at you in what seems a kind way before the jab lands, “good job making it here.”

To everyone else it sounds like a comment about the storm but you know, you can see in his eye that he's referencing your conversation the prior night. His comment about everyone wanting you to just show up, it makes you think about Tom's comment when you first sat down, everyone knows you are the weak link. Before you can even respond, Vanessa is ushering him further into the room, annoyingly placing him where she had been sitting, directly next to you. She wanders away, headed to make Lewis a drink, completely unaware of the tension she sat next to you.

“You just get here?” Lewis asks, surprising you that he’s bothering with conversation at all.

“Few hours ago.” You say simply, turning your attention to watch the snow swirl in a mesmerizing dance.

He just nods, following your gaze to the window. 

Before anyone has a chance to say anything else, Vanessa is returning with Lewis’ drink and announcing to everyone that dinner is ready. Lewis begins to protest, not wanting to intrude on a family dinner but everyone else is quick to shush him, telling him they would love for him to stay. Shortly thereafter you are all seated around a beautiful table, Lewis sitting directly across from you, a delicious looking meal placed in the center. Tom takes a moment to thank Vanessa for inviting everyone and being such a wonderful host, gushing about his daughter as he forgets to mention Dylan for even a moment. As the bowls get passed around the table you can’t help but notice that Lewis is ignoring almost everything that is placed in front of him, passing it along without a moments thought. By the time everyone is served you notice that his plate is only a salad, it makes you want to scoff, not even during his off season will he let himself indulge in something, too focused on his physique. You stay relatively quiet throughout dinner, just listening to everyone else chatter, it’s not until your mom asks Lewis what he has been up to since the season ended that you are caught off guard.

“I spent the last week in LA, needed some sun before winter.” He tells her, causing wires to connect in her brain.

“Oh! Y/N lives in LA, what a coincidence, I’m surprised you two don’t see each other more often.” The excitement in her voice makes you laugh as you quickly go to shut her down, not even registering that you had in fact seen him just the night before.

“Mom, it's a massive city-” You laugh.

“Well we actually saw each other last night.” Lewis says at the same time as you, stopping you in your tracks. He’s staring right at you as he takes a casual sip of his water before he glances around the table.

“Really?” Tom asks, leaning in like this is the news of the year.

“Oh come on, you didn’t tell them?” Lewis laughs, it’s hollow, not like the warm laugh you’ve heard directed towards other people. He knew you wouldn’t have mentioned it, he’s enjoying being the one to let everyone know you were out partying the night before family holiday.

“I mean, no I didn’t, but it’s not like it’s common.” You stutter out, weirdly flustered all the sudden.

“Yeah, ran into her out with some of her friends at a club last night, had to save her from a creepy drunk guy who didn’t want to leave her alone.” He tells the table casually, settling back into his seat.

“Well I’m glad you were there Lewis, I worry about her when I hear about her going out like that. This world is just getting too dangerous to be out flaunting yourself like that.” Your dad pipes up, making you whip your head in his direction.

“Dad, I wasn’t-” You begin to argue before getting cut off by Lewis.

“It wasn’t her fault. She was just there, shouldn’t have to hide away just because she’s a woman.” Lewis says firmly, looking at you again as if to seal his words, catching you off guard by defending you.

“Thanks.” You silently mouth in his direction. He doesn’t acknowledge it, carrying on with his story instead.

“But yeah, the guy left pretty quickly, he was harmless. I was surprised to see her though, figured she would already be here. I was glad to see you left when you did, with your flight this morning and all.” He continues.

“You were out too.” You quickly fire back at him, not enjoying the embarrassment in front of your family.

“Had a later flight than you,” He simply shrugs, a smirk forming on his face, “How was this morning, rough one?”

“My only issue this morning was the weather, thanks.” You say, a snip in your tone.

“Glad to hear it.” He says, getting comfortable in his seat as he thankfully changes topics. 

Thankfully the awkward air that had settled over dinner dissipated quickly and before you knew it Lewis was saying that he needed to get going, still needing to drive another hour to his own house. There was no hesitation before Vanessa and Beatrice were telling him to spend the night, not enjoying the idea of him travelling in the weather at night. You noticed his eyes flicker to you as he started to turn them down, part of you wondered if he was doing it because he told you he wasn’t staying with them but you doubted he was being that thoughtful. He stayed strong, adamant that he would be fine and that he really wanted to settle into his own place but that he would be back later in the week.You feel a certain relief as you see him finally manage to say his goodbyes, bundling up in his long woolen coat as he makes his way out the door. You can hear the wind when he stepped out the door and you did worry that his drive would be far from enjoyable but you didn’t feel like hanging out with him much longer. 

As you helped clear the table you noticed something on the ground, right below where Lewis had been sitting. You put down the plates in your hands with a huff, reaching down to grab what turned out to be a wallet. You internally groaned, of course he dropped his wallet, of course you found it, it would be wrong to send him on his way without it, especially in this weather. You let out a sigh, jogging to the front door, hoping he hadn’t left yet. When you pulled the front door open you were shocked, you almost couldn’t see the front steps mere feet from you.

“Holy shit.” You muttered to yourself, grabbing the nearest pair of boots by the door, haphazardly throwing them on in hopes of catching Lewis.

When you cautiously made your way down off the porch, wading through the rather deep snow that now covered the path to the driveway, you saw him clearing the snow off his car. His jacket was blowing in the wind and he had an arm up to shield his face from the blowing snow, much like you yourself did. You let out a sigh of resignation, there’s no way you could let him drive an hour in this, no matter how badly he got on your nerves. You continue to make your way toward him, snow falling into the borrowed boots making you wince.

“Lewis,” You call out to him, “what the hell are you doing?”

He turns toward you, a confused look across his features, “Cleaning off my car, what do you need?”

“I can see that,” You say as you get closer to him, rolling your eyes at his answer, “I mean why the heck are you trying to drive home in this? Just come back inside.”

“Came all the way out here to save me? I’ll be fine, you seemed pretty worried that I was staying here the other night.” He says, turning back to his car.

“Actually I came out here because you dropped your wallet.” You say plainly, not enjoying his attitude but catching his attention again.

“Shit, thanks.” He extends his hand, waiting for you to hand it over.

“No, you’re insane, just grab your bag and come back inside. You annoy the shit out of me but I don’t particularly want you dead on the side of the road.” You shake your head, stepping back from him to prove that you’re not handing his wallet over until he turns his car off and comes inside.

“Well that's nice to hear.” He says sarcastically.

“You dying right before Christmas would kind of ruin holidays for me forever, V would be distraught.” You throw at him, it being partially true.

“Fine.” He concedes through a huff, his shoulders slumping as he trudges to his car door to kill the engine.

You watch as he grabs his bag from the backseat before making his way toward you, gesturing impatiently for you to go so he can follow you back to the house.

“Besides, now I’m the hero that convinced Mr. Perfect to stay, I basically just saved your life.” You say teasingly over your shoulder as you start your way up the steps. You’re too focused on your own dig and not enough on the slippery stairs, your feet almost coming out from under you. Much to your embarrassment, Lewis is there with a steadying grip on your arm.

“Just saved my life and then tried to break my neck by falling on me.” He mutters, letting go of you once you're stable.

“Give me a break, I’m pretty sure I’m wearing Dylan's boots.” You argue, pulling away from him harshly.

The moment you are inside he is being swarmed by your family again, all so happy he has decided to stay the night, no one even paying attention to the fact that you’ve come inside with him. Dylan is quickly showing him to his room for the night, apologizing that it’s not very fancy. You decide to slip away up to your room, having gotten rather cold and wet in your time outside. The whole time you’re getting ready for bed you’re telling yourself that it’s only for the night. You won’t even notice that he’s here and he will be gone tomorrow when the storm has passed. That hope lasts very briefly until you hear a knock on your door. You naively swing the door open, assuming it's someone to come say goodnight, and there he is.

“What the hell do you want?” You groan.

He doesn’t respond, he just pushes off the doorframe pushing past you into your room as he lets out a long whistle.

“This might actually be nicer than my bedroom at home.” He says, still ignoring your question as he looks around the room.

“Yeah it’s beautiful. What do you want?” You ask again, eager for him to leave so you can climb under the blankets.

“So pushy,” He chuckles, turning back to you, “I believe you have something of mine?”

“Right.” You say flatly, moving past him to the dresser where you had thrown his wallet that had still been in your pocket.

“How much did ya take?” He asks after you hand it to him, flicking it open as if to inspect that all his cards are still there.

“Not nearly enough.” You grumble, sitting down on the end of the bed.

He just chuckles, taking another glance around your room before walking out of your room without a word, something he seems to be making a habit of. You groan when you see that he’s left your door wide open, reluctantly making your way off your bed.

“He’ll be gone tomorrow.” You mutter to yourself as you lean against the now closed door, and you can only pray it's true.

[solxamber]

hello hello! hope your well^^

For the mini holiday event,

[Octavinelle, 2, Comedy]

Is that OK? If your inbox is flooded w requests, feel free to skip mine, though!

it's completely fine! i'm having so much fun with this event so don't worry about it!

Kitchen Nightmare || Floyd Leech

For the Holiday Event! || Theme: Cooking/Baking together ; Genre: Comedy

You should’ve known better than to trust Floyd in a kitchen.

“Floyd, what are you doing?”

Floyd’s standing at the stove, humming an off-key tune with the most ominous grin you’ve ever seen. His sleeves are rolled up, there’s an entire octopus dangling from his hands, and the pot on the stove is bubbling ominously like a witch’s cauldron.

“Cookin’,” he chirps, completely unbothered. “What’s it look like, Shrimpy?”

“It looks like you’re summoning a sea monster.”

“Even better! We’re havin’ octopus stew!”

You freeze. “Floyd, Azul's an octo-mer”

“Yup! That’s why it’s extra funny.”

Before you can question that logic, the door creaks open, and in walks Azul. He takes one look at Floyd’s wild grin, the bubbling pot, and the suspiciously large octopus carcass being stuffed into it headfirst. The sound of Floyd’s cackling fills the room like background music to a horror movie.

Azul pauses mid-step. “...I’ll come back later.”

He turns and backs away so quickly, it’s like you just caught him fleeing a crime scene.

“Azul, wait! HELP ME!” you yell, but he’s already gone.

Floyd snorts, clearly pleased. “Heh, Boss is such a scaredy fish. S’not like it’s his cousin.”

You gape at him. “Is it your cousin?!”

“Nah,” he says cheerfully. “But wouldn’t that make it more exciting?”

“Floyd, that’s disturbing.”

He doesn’t answer, just stirs the pot like the unhinged chef he is, muttering things like, “Nice and tender~” and “This’ll be so good it’ll knock your fins off.”

Your survival instincts kick in. “You know what? I think I’ll stick to sandwiches.”

“Nuh-uh, Shrimpy!”

You don’t even have time to blink before Floyd’s behind you, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other waving a spoonful of ominous-looking stew in front of your face like it’s some sort of prize.

“Come on, just one bite~”

“Floyd, I will scream.”

“Oh~ Then I’ll just make you louder.” He’s grinning way too much for your liking, and you’re pretty sure he’s not letting go until you try the stew.

“Fine! FINE!” You swat at the spoon, grabbing it from him with an overly dramatic sigh. “But if I die, I’m haunting you.”

He lets you go with a triumphant hum, leaning way too close as you hesitantly bring the spoon to your mouth. You close your eyes, fully prepared for disaster.

And then—

It’s… good.

You freeze mid-chew. Your brain can’t even process it properly. “Wait a minute.”

Floyd beams. “Told ya it’d knock your fins off!”

“Floyd, what the hell—this is actually delicious.”

“Right?!”

You stare at the stew like it’s personally betrayed you. “No. No way. There’s no reason it should taste this good when it looks like that.”

Floyd’s grinning so wide you’re worried his face might split in two. “Guess I’m just a natural-born chef, huh?”

You glance at him, then back at the spoon, and then back at him again, spiraling into some sort of crisis. “I don’t understand. This is unfair. I was ready to mock you for life.”

“Guess you’ll have to praise me instead,” Floyd sing-songs, rocking back and forth on his heels. “C’mon, admit it, Shrimpy! I’m amazin’!”

You sigh, dramatically collapsing against the counter. “I hate that you’re good at this. I’m so conflicted.”

Floyd cackles, shoving another spoonful toward you like a proud toddler. “Here, eat more! I made enough to feed, like, the whole ocean.”

“I’ll eat it, but I refuse to compliment you further,” you grumble, accepting the bite begrudgingly.

Floyd’s grin only widens as he watches you eat. “You’re so fun to mess with, Shrimpy~”

And for once, you can’t even argue with him.

Masterlist

[mdsbabygirl]

Hello! I love your work, I just read “Being their fuckbuddy,” and I’m hooked. I was wondering if you would make a part 2 where the reader/you call things off and they realize that they’ve actually caught some feelings? It’s alright if you don’t want to! I’m a total sucker for angst lol.

Ofc my lovely anon!! I'll be more than glad to do that! Here's part two of "being their fuckbuddy". btw don't be shy to make requests, they make me really happy and I'm more than willing to write them!

Please baby.. don't let go of me yet...

PART TWO OF "Being their fuckbuddy"

Pairing: Otoya Eita/ Itoshi Sae/ Bachira Meguru/ Shidou Ryusei/ Chigiri Hyoma/ Barou Shoei x FEM! reader

Synopsis: when you end up walking out of your "relationship", these men feel empty inside, finally realizing that their lust has indeed turned into something much deeper.

Genre: smut, angst

Wc: 3,3k

Cw: dark themes, MDNI, mentions of makeup sex, very depressed men, semi-public sex(Otoya, Barou), crying messes(Bachira, Chigiri), nonchalant fuckers(Sae, Barou), black mail/threatening/ humiliation (Shidou), stalking(meguru), womanizer(otoya), these men are very much Inlove with you, etc..

Otoya Eita:

•"yeah, I'm fine with it" he said, his tone as casual as possible. He knew your relationship wasn't going to last long, and it was part of the thrill he felt when he was with you. But when the parting time finally came, he didn't feel right. He thought he could just move on, quickly forgetting you and your shared moments to focus on the next girl he was going to pull.. but no, not this time. Otoya was very confused, why was he suddenly getting emotional? Why was he starting to feel uneasy, a surging pain in his stomach made him feel awful, as if he got repeatedly punched in the abdomen, all while he was looking at you in the far distance.  You, the one who made him feel like he could've reached heaven with how much pleasure he felt; you, the girl he always enjoyed spending time with because you were fun and interesting, you the one who got his heart.

•Eita was mad at first, why the fuck did it hurt so much? It's not like it was the first time he got a heartbreak, he'd usually just bury the pain with sex, fucking around with multiple women, until he forgot about everything, the pain eventually subsiding. And he tried, like, he tried really hard, going every night to nightclubs and having one nightstands with every woman he found somewhat hot.. the thing is, the sex was awful..it didn't feel right, it was dull and boring, as if all the feelings in his body were dead, making him unable to feel the slightest sparkle of excitement. He'd often ask himself, why was he like this? Why couldn't he just bounce back like before, going back to being the  destrous ninja of seduction he once was.. even all the women he had picked were somewhat of a close replica to you, all sharing common attributes that you had.. I guess you are really unreplaceable..

•that, was his situation for a while, being the slave of a non ending vicious circle of sex, alcohol and depression. That was, until he finally saw you at one of the clubs he frequented. It's like his world lit up, transforming from a dark nightmare to the sweetest of dreams. His eyes widened in surprise, not expecting to meet you at all, but there you were, looking ever so stunning, wearing your prettiest dress, and hypnotizing everyone with your looks. At first he froze, not knowing what to do. But then he decided that it was time to put an end to his misery, deciding it would be best to just confess to you, and tell you how much he had been yearning for you for the past weeks. You were quite stunned too, not only not expecting this sudden encounter, but also not even imagining that this womanizer would be pouring his heart out to you.. you smiled subtly, thinking his actions were cute, yet you were still indecisive, you didn't trust him enough, thinking he'd break your heart if you let him in, which was indeed why you left him. You started catching feelings, all this intimacy between the two of you sparking a growing love for the man. Eita, ever so happy, was quick to hug you, pressing soft kisses on your lips until they became more and more heated, leading the both of you to make out heatedly in the middle of the club. Then.. well let's just say you were way too needy for each other to wait to go home so instead you fucked in one of the bathroom stalls... His hand was pushing you onto the door, your tube top pushed down to reveal your tits that were squished against the cold surface, as Eita was behind you, rumming his rock hard cock relentlessly, like he'd always do..

Itoshi Sae:

•he had that cold, expressionless face he always had when it happened. You had invited him to talk, insisting it was best if it happened in person. He looked so stunning, his teal eyes, an amalgamation of the most serene blue sky and most captivating green seas, were a pool of alluring coolness. No matter how hard the news might've been, he never budged.. he just nodded, agreeing with your request for ending things. And that's how, you both just walked away, forgetting all the moments of your shared passion, as if you finished the last chapter of a boring book. But.. did he really find your fling boring? Was he really willing to just move on, as if nothing had happened?

•Sae was used to the solitude, he was a reservated person, not allowing anyone in his circle, and the fact that you managed to get in that close to him, must've meant something right?.. it couldn't have been just purely a give and receive link, it must've been much more than that. He was human after all, meaning that he must've felt the smallest shred of something, anything really, even if it was lust, hate or love. Sae was confused, not knowing how to act or what to feel. He just went back to being to his usual self, an egoist who only cares about his sacred soccer.. but if that's what he thought he did, then why couldn't he sleep at night? Why was his bed so empty all of a sudden? Why was he flipping through the pics you post on your socials? Did you really manage to plague his mind? Turning him from a cold hearted egoista, to a yearning lover, a man that needed your presence as much as he needed oxygen to survive.

•The nights felt long, unending hours of long lasting boredom and solitude, weighted down on Sae's mind. He wanted it to stop, needing this feeling of hollowness to be over. He tossed and turned in bed, unable to rest.. he took his phone, 2 AM.. great you might be sleeping he thought.. he looked intensely at your contact info on his screen, contemplating if calling you would be the right choice.. it was his first time being indecisive, he was always a confident man, always sure of himself and his actions; but this time he wasn't.. his hands trembling as he held the phone. In the end he said fuck It, deciding that going to your house was the best option.. once he arrived, he ringed the bell, waiting for you. When you came out, wearing your comfy pj's, and asking why he was here while yawning, he just grabbed your face and kissed you, not even wasting time on words. He led you inside, huffing out how much he missed you and how he can't be apart from you.. you couldn't give him a straight answer yet, but you still didn't deny him, inviting him in, keeping him all close and cozy, so warm and feeling heavenly as his big cock is buried deep inside your hot cunny.

Bachira Meguru:

•things between the two of you started getting a bit rocky, his possessiveness was too overwhelming. He was always by your side, his presence so suffocating that it left you drained both emotionally and physically. It was after one of your encounters that you decided to call things off. Bachira was panting heavily, his chest heaving as he came down from his high. He still was on top of you, looking down at you with his lovestruck look.. you kinda felt bad about what you were about to do, knowing how sad he'll be once you leave him. Meguru, tiredly laid beside you, looking at you before wrapping an arm around your naked figure..you were kinda starting to rethink your actions, thinking that maybe you could get used to his.. well, quirkiness? But you didn't, once Bachira announced something about wanting you to be fully his, you finally snapped. You quickly got up, getting your scattered up clothes and putting them on without saying a word.. you didn't wanna get even more mad, nor upset him with the bullshit you knew you were about to say if u really snapped. The man behind you, looking ever so struck by your sudden change in behavior grabbed you by the forearm, asking what happened.. oh man, you did snap at that time.. you started throwing insults at him,  telling him how suffocated you felt, before you gathered your stuff and left him alone in his apartment.

•To say that Bachira was shocked was an understatement. He couldn't believe what he heard.. he.. was suffocating? Was he really so frustrating and maddening like you just said? He didn't wanna believe this, thinking that maybe you just had a bad day, maybe you were mad at everyone and he just so happened to be the unlucky one to have to undergo such a shitty experience. But deep down he knew the truth. He knew that you entirely meant what you said, all those words hitting him like a poisonous dagger to the heart. He did everything for you, treated you like a princess, gave you constant attention, never once did he let you out of his sight.. he swore he was the best you could've ever had, the one and only who would worship you and treat you like the goddess you are.. yet, you left him. Like everybody else did. He should've been used to it by now, but fuck It hurt.. I guess that's why he felt hot globs of tears streaming down his face, his sobbing filling up the room. He really didn't deserve all this pain that you so hurtfully inflicted on him.

•after crying his heart out, he concluded that this wasn't the solution, deciding that if you weren't going to be willingly his , he was going to do it forcefully. Bachiras is known to have a dark side in him, a so-called monster that whispers the filthiest, most evil ideas in his mind. It was time to hear his alter-ego, using this demonic quirk of his to finally show you who you belong to, finally convincing you that he's your one and only. That's why, late at night he sneaked into your house..(he might've made a copy of your key without you noticing but Shhh) waiting for your arrival. As for you, you were getting home from work, unable to shake away the thought of how badly you treated Bachira. You wanted to apologize, but you were way too tired, so u decided that tomorrow you'll go to his place and make up with him. You unlocked your door, finally entering your home, when you saw Bachira laying all comfy on your sofa.. you were very much surprised, thinking that maybe it was because you were tired. Noticing you, meguru quickly went up to you, hugging you so tightly you could've swore you stopped breathing for a sec, before caressing your face, looking at you with a devilish gaze as he whispered in your ear, "you'll always be mine sweet thing!" Before pressing a wet kiss to your neck, "we're going to have so much fun tonight my love." He chuckled, his hands quickly finding your sides as he pressed his body flush against yours, the feeling of his hard-on on your lower abdomen.

Shidou Ryusei:

•ok..ummm, did I mention that this man is pure evil? Like he won't leave you so easily, never letting you slip from his grip without any consequences–this is if he ever let you go, because let's be honest, shidou would never ever let you dissapear from his life, letting your shared memories transforming into a mirage that would forever haunt him. He'd first laugh at you, thinking you weren't serious about calling things off. He'd wrap his arms around your frame, squeezing the plump skin of your butt, a nasty habit of his, telling you that it was a nice joke. But when you slapped him, telling him how much of a maniac he is and walking away, he was surprised. He didn't expect his ever obliging fwb, would have some personality.

•at first he'd let you go, still a bit startled from that whole ordeal, but then he'd start manically laughing, delving so deep down in his psychopathy that he might've become even more insane just from that.. He HAD to make you his, one way or another. He was totally convinced that you were just playing hard to get, or maybe into some kind of cat and mouse chasing thing.. maybe he could even use this dynamic for your next sexy sesh.. but that's for another time to discuss..

•shidou, just walked up to you, hugging you from behind, as if you were a lovey-dovey couple, just casually nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and pressing wet kisses on the skin. You were startled for sure, not wanting any sort of contact with this devilish monster; yet, you couldn't deny his effect on you, a small pool of wetness forming between your legs, but you'll never let him know of course. Somehow, managing to push him off of you, you told him to go away, refusing any form of link to him. Chuckling, Ryusei pulled his phone, his large hands scrolling through his gallery until he found them... All your sex tapes, ready to be sent to everyone who knew you. Grinning devilishly, shidou blackmailed you, you got two choices, you were either to be completely humiliated or to come back to that psycho ... He pressed you, forcing you to choose quickly, otherwise he'd do what you dreaded most. In either way you'd lose your dignity, since being with such a freak had its downsides.. I guess you had no choice, but to forcefully get back with him.

"Mm yeah, that's more like it, my little cockwhore!" He grinned, as he was spreading your ass cheek, looking down at how his big cock was sinking deeply in your soaked folds, all while you were a moaning mess under him.. he's so demonic fr..

Chigiri Hyoma:

•chigiri knew he loved you, he knew for a long time now, always thinking about how he could change your mind, how to make you his gf.. he could've done so much for you, treating you like the queen you are, showing you unyielding affection... anything, he would've done anything for you.. yet, you rejected him. It stung like hell, the loneliness was catching up to him, and that mixed up with the sickening sadness and sorrow he felt was the most potent of poisons.

•He was alone on his bed, looking up at the ceiling as he was sobbing, warm tears streaming down his pretty face. Handsome faces shouldn't cry, you told him before you left, caressing his face one last time before you disappeared from his life. The mere thought of that agonizing moment sent Hyoma into another hysterical crying.. he couldn't believe he got so hypnotized by you that was reduced to this state. He knew you wanted nothing more than sex, he knew that what you had was ephemeral; yet he still couldn't accept the fact that he had lost you. The worst being the way you rejected him, smiling so reassuringly, so softly and so prettily, your face was imprinted in his mind. No matter how much he exhausted himself in training or drowned himself in alcohol, he couldn't forget you. How dare you break his heart in such a nonchalant way, reassuring him he'll find the one for him, even if you knew he had eyes only for you? You were so cruel, he thought.

•days passed since your splitting, and shit started weighing down on your consciousness.. I mean, you did realize that you broke his heart. With a sigh, you decided to stop thinking about him, recalling that all men were the same, all horny and unmannered, always making sexual jokes and treating you like some kind of fucktoy. That was the male treatment you were used to, so when you started frequenting Chigiri, it felt.. different. Sure he was still a man with his own needs and stupidity, yet he was the most caring and gentle one of them all. Slowly you started to realize the huge mistake you made. With tears threatening to fall on your face, you got out of your house, running as fast as you could to apologize to the sweetest, most handsome man you've ever met.. the man you loved. Ringing his bell repeatedly, he opened the door and saw you. Another surge of tears came out, making him sob uncontrollably. So you quickly hugged him, pressing kisses on his head, apologizing for the catastrophic mistake you've made.. in the end, let's just say that he accepted your apology, letting you ride all the sadness out of him, as you're tenderly making out.. make up sex with Chigiri was truly the best.

Barou Shoei :

•barou didn't need you anyway, you were such a nuisance to him, he thought. Not only were you so neglecting of his feelings, but you also had the guts to dump him, discarding him like a used toy that you didn't need anymore. Wasn't he your king? The only man that made you feel intense ecstasy? Well you were in the wrong, like you've always been, he thought once again. Barou could live perfectly without you, it's not like his existence depended on yours, and also it's not like he wanted the presence of someone who didn't want him back. Yet, why did he feel a tinge of sadness? Why was it that when he saw happy couples on the street, he felt like he had a hole in his chest that couldn't be filled no matter what? He didn't know why for sure, and he never even wanted to know.

•What a stubborn king, suppressing all his feelings until they burst like an atomic bomb. And indeed that's what happened, he denied the fact that he still loves you, he hates it. It makes him feel weak, transforming him from a glorious king to a heartbroken slave.. Barou wanted nothing more than his feelings for you to disappear, wanting to put his constant yearning for you to a halt, but he couldn't. No matter how hard he tried, you wouldn't get out of his mind, for a moment he thought that you had cast a spell on him, one so potent that left him entrances, as if he was hypnotized by a siren's voice..

•Barou wanted so badly to come back to you, to just be in your arms, to be able to love you without any restrictions.. but you deprived him of this happiness, condemning him to a life of sorrow and desperation.. As for you, well, you weren't doing so good either. You tried everything to forget him too, but your king had already left his imprint on you, forever changing your life, making it so that he was the only man you'd ever think about. You did send him countless messages, apologizing to him, asking him to meet up to set things straight yet he never responded, he was such a proud mf. So that's why you just went up to him during one of his training, it was the only choice as he couldn't ignore you there. But since Barou didn't wanna cause a scene, he just dragged you to the locker room, opting that finishing your conversation there would provide some more privacy. Well.. let's just say that your conversation was cut short, and the locker room was now filled with both of your moans, as Shoei was kinda busy making sure you'll never leave him, thrusting in you from behind, marking you, biting sucking and kissing your neck and shoulders so that way next time you'll know better than to leave your king.

© mdsbabygirl do not copy or translate my work without my permission.

[2amriize]

.ᐟ seunghan drabble : my dream ༉‧₊˚.

req: omg idk if reqs are open but I'm gonna send this anyway HEAR ME OUT a written fix with reader being seunghans close friend or something and a very cute fluffy hurt/comfort idol au where seunghan returns to riize (I'm delusional plz)

note: pls seunghan comeback. i miss rii7e

masterlist

You and Seunghan had known each other since high school, where you became very close. Both of you shared the dream of becoming idols someday, as you both loved dancing. For years, you attended dance academies until you each managed to join agencies, training hard for years. You debuted in a group a few months before him, but eventually, you both achieved the dream you had been chasing for so long.

You couldn’t be prouder of each other. It was also so much fun running into each other in the hallways during promotions and recording challenges together. But this happiness quickly faded when Seunghan was put on hiatus, and eventually, his image was erased from the group entirely.

You couldn’t understand it. Why were they doing this to him? Seunghan, who was kind and friendly to everyone. Who always had a smile on his face no matter the situation. You couldn’t stop thinking about everything he was going through, and even though you were busy with your group’s rehearsals and promotions, you always found time to visit Seunghan at his apartment, checking in on him and talking to distract him a bit.

The day you read the news that Seunghan had decided to leave the group, you ran to his apartment after practice, knocking on his door to talk to him. A few seconds later, he opened the door. You both sat on his couch, him with his head down, fully aware of what you were going to say.

"Is this really what you want, Seunghan? Is this what you want? Wasn’t this your dream?"

"I don’t want to keep hurting them..."

"You’re not hurting them, Seunghan. They’re your friends—you’ve told me that yourself. These past months you’ve worked so hard for them, and they’ve been there for you."

"Sometimes you have to make sacrifices..."

"No, Seunghan, sometimes you have to be selfish. This is your dream. It’s been your dream for years, I’ve been by your side and seen how excited you always were... Why would you throw that away? You know there are so many people who support you, you know that..."

Seunghan listened in silence. He knew your words were true, but the situation was too complicated. Even though it had been his decision, he wasn’t sure if he had made the right one. It was true that this was his dream, but deep down, he was afraid of impacting his group, even though he knew they would support and protect him.

That night, you decided to stay with Seunghan because he needed you by his side. He had always been there for you during your worst moments, and you wouldn’t do any less for him. You tried to change the subject and distract him with other things, like watching videos together. From that day on, Seunghan promised you that he would think about what to do.

The following months were very tough for him, and for you too. Even though he seemed to be doing better with each passing day, you knew deep down that it was still affecting him and that he was still contemplating speaking up, sharing his feelings, and saying that he wanted to return to the group.

You couldn’t have been happier when one morning, one of your groupmates showed you the news: Seunghan was back in RIIZE.

Seunghan had decided to follow his dream, no matter what people said. He wanted to continue being an artist with RIIZE, and that decision was something incredibly important—something that made you so proud.

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi @kukkurookkoo

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

LOL yess the Mean Girl of the PTA for sure. And OMFG I was thinking exactly of A Bad Mom's Christmas!!! 🤣🤣 We share a wavelength, I stg. (Maybe Russell can play Justin's part this time. 😏)

"Share a wavelength" LOL, you're right 😂 If Russell played Justin's role in that movie I would spontaneously combust LOL. But I will say that Justin does look good in that movie.

Aww I still want to read You Call It Madness! Even more so now that the reader has a relatable aspect to her character for me. I totally agree! I think Russell could definitely be the one to make her feel as special as she truly is, and retcon all of that nastiness that cheating dipshit Lance made her feel. 💞

You Call It Madness is still one of my favorite things that I've written on here, and if you ever do get a chance to look it over I would love to see what you think 🥰 And OH YES, I'm already thinking of the dialogue between Russell and the reader when he realizes just how badly her ex husband treated her. It's going to be so cute!

Omg I'm so honored, my friend!! lol We've talked about this before, but Midnight Espresso has definitely been the series where I kind of put myself out there by writing about some of my own insecurities through that reader character, namely with body insecurity. Especially in the 2-part story Show Me, in that series. I put my heart and soul into that one (and she deals with a trashman ex-boyfriend in that story too lol). But like you said with Russell, I thought Dean would approach that insecurity in his partner in a similar way--of trying his best to show her (pun intended 😂) that she's beautiful and loved. 💓💓💓

I love what I've read of the ME series so much, because it's so wholesome and it feels real and I really do think that Dean is a perfect character for a reader that is insecure, because he's also insecure about some aspects of himself. And I can't wait to read Show Me! I'm pretty sure that it's the next one up for me in that series. And now I'm even more excited about it because I love reading trashmen getting put in their place ❤️❤️ Living for the pun fyi lol

The way I just binge-watched Jurassic Park 1-3 AND Jurassic World 1-3 for that exact reason! It's one of my comfort series, honestly, and I love the Mummy too!! The Core is one I would add to that list. A GREAT disaster movie with DJ Qualls in it (along with Aaron Eckhart and Hillary Swank).

Core is AMAZING. Stanley Tucci's range as an actor never ceases to amaze me. 2012 is one of my favorite disaster movies because its terrible but a good terrible lol. And I can't forget Deep Impact (Tea Leoni and Morgan Freeman YES PLEASE) Plus another non-disaster movie I love is the Terminator franchise.

Ooooh what an interesting observation! I never thought of it that way, but for all the Deanisms I see in Russell, there's some SB/Ben in there too! lol Makes sense, since Jensen seems to thrive in the complex action hero role. Can't wait to see what he does with Mark Meachum in Countdown too!

I was actually going to ask you this later if you think that on the spectrum of Jensen Ackles Characters if Dean is between Russell and Ben or is Russell between Ben and Dean. I see Beau as left and Ben as the most drastic on the right with Dean and Russell somewhere in the middle. I thought that would be an interesting post outright, just comparing the four of them and sprinkling in the other characters that Jensen has portrayed to see where they fit on the spectrum of gorgeous and incredible acting and beautiful man that is Jensen Ackles lol. And also how it feels to write for each of the character. 🧐 Maybe in the future I'll think up something, but I think it would be fun to get a few writers in on that to weigh in.

And YES. I cannot WAIT to see what Mark Meachum is like! I just hope that I finish most of my WIPs before I emotionally invest in another character played by that beautiful man. 😂

Oh my God, hell yeah. It's that thing of a hardworking man with calloused hands who knows how to be gentle with them. 😍😍

Oh YESSSS the gentle calloused hands only with their girl conversation re-emerges 😂

Oh yeah, we can agree it's not self-serving and just accept that both Dean and Russell (and hell, let's throw in Ben and Beau) would love a curvy girl. 😌 I think these guys are real men who know when they see quality. 👌🏽 And aww thank you so much, my lovely. 🥹🥹 You're making me want to dip back into the ME-verse for some more Quality Time with Dean. 🥰

Yes please add Ben and Beau to the list, because they are "real men who know when they see quality" A MILLION TIMES YES 🙌🏻

Dean deserves ALL the quality time and I'm ready to read all about it!

Honestly I melt like butter for some protectiveness. Like yes, feminism in that we can protect ourselves, but it's nice to have a good man protect and support his girl. (Or the girl who should become his girl lol.) 💕

Oh definitely yes feminism... but I also want a big strong man with rough hands to protect me sometimes, especially if that man is played by Jensen Ackles. 😅🤣

As you should!! I had so much fun reading this that even though it was 10K, I was still sad when I got to the end, wanting to read more of these two. 💕 LOL I totally get it on the WIPs. I have a few ideas I haven't announced, but I'm trying to decide what to explore next when I get my 2-week winter break -- a sequel story for The Honorable Choice, exploring how Dean assimilates (or not) into Mila's tribe, or working on the last square of my Jacklesverse Bingo card (I have 2 out of 3 written that I haven't published yet lol).

GIRL WHAT?! OH MY WORD I'M SO EXCITED! The Honorable Choice was so good! I can't wait to see what you have in store for western Dean trying to fit in (or not) in her tribe! And also what you have for the Bingo! 😊

I'm trying to write the epilogue for Take A Chance On Me and then I have to officially get back into If The Stars Wish It So (the soulmate fic) mode lol. Because I want to finish that one, especially because I finally got the sequence of events right. And then I got a few random ideas for another two Soldier Boy series that are kinda intriguing me 😅 BUT I'm hoping that sometime after I write a few more chapters of If the Stars Wish It So, I'll be coming back around to this story and to finally finish the draft of It's Not That Big A Deal Part 2 lol. Basically there's a whole lot lol.

I hope you get a chance to do everything you want to do! But know that I'm so down to read more of these two whenever you get the inspo and the time to work on it. A la Phoebe in Friends, the reader could be Russ's lobster!! 💕

I hope you do too 🥰! And I'm so happy to hear it and to hear what you think friend!❤️❤️❤️ I'm not going to lie, I've only seen parts of Friends and that was so long ago, BUT I did look up what lobster meant and yes the reader could be Russell's Lobster!

Pairing: Russell Shaw xf!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  The last thing that you wanted was to be woken up in the middle of the night by Colter Shaw for a favor, but when he shows up toting a ruggedly handsome man with green eyes you decide to forgive him. Reader is the niece of Velma and Teddi!

Word Count: 10.3K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ just in case I missed anything. Blood, Cleaning Out A Wound, Mentions of Allergies? Gunshots, Some Cursing, A Bit of Sexual Innuendo, Sexual fantasy/reader has active imagination, Self-deprecating Thoughts/Body Issues (reader), Mentions of Infidelity, Reader Is A Single Mom, Appearance Of Creepy-Jerk Ex Husband, Probably a Poor Description Of What It’s Like To Be A Single Mom (I tried my best, please I do not mean to offend anyone❤️), Russell Shaw might be a little bit OOC. Reader is occasionally described as "curvy."

Song Inspiration: Long As I Can See The Light By Creedence Clearwater Revival

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n if any. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite! This is my first time writing for Russell Shaw, so, please be gentle. 😅

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

A/N: I finally watched Tracker… Could you tell? 😂

Sunday nights, in your opinion, were the worst.

It was like the last few moments of freedom before you were thrust into a busy work week, like the last few rays of light before the coming darkness that you barely survived with copious amounts of coffee and bloodied fingertips. Monday always loomed, but never as much as on Sunday nights.

The dull thud of your phone vibrating against your wooden bedside table grates on your ears and pulls you from the sweet precipice of sleep before you can fall into the void.

It felt as if you’d just collapsed into your bed and one look at the alarm clock on your bedside table as you blinked your bleary eyes confirmed it. It was 3:58 am, which meant you had been in bed for exactly three minutes.

You were still covered in chocolate cupcake batter, pink frosting, and rainbow sprinkles from the last six hours you'd spent in the kitchen making gluten free, sugar free, and peanut free cupcakes for a bake sale at your son’s school.

Even though you hadn't volunteered Stephanie Jacobson, or rather the wicked witch of the PTA, had cornered you in the pick-up line on Friday afternoon to remind you of your "duties as a parent" and the coming bake sale to support the building of the new gym. And then she’d handed you a list of student allergies and asked you to create something that was safe for everyone.

Taste be damned.

Why the school needed a new gym you didn't know, but the guilt that rose when Stephanie mentioned your "duties as a parent" was enough to make you say yes to whatever she asked you.

You had enough guilt already about raising your kids without a stable father figure, and the last thing you needed was guilt from a stuck up bitch in the PTA.

Stephanie reminded you of the girls in high school that used to pick at their food, the ones that knew exactly what to say to make you feel like a freak, the ones who dated the football players and spent their Friday nights wearing cheerleading uniforms and waving pom poms, and the ones who basically made everyone else's life a living hell.

Everything about her screamed superior. The flawless way she curled her perfect platinum blonde hair, the stylish clothes she wore than never seemed to have a wrinkle or a mashed carrot smeared on the pants, the supple breasts that she swore were real, a perfectly toned stomach that never seemed to change despite her having a child two months ago, and the easy way she handled all of her three children with a flourish of her left hand that housed a 6 karat diamond ring from her gorgeous husband that was so attentive, perfect, and rich that it made you feel sick to your stomach.

All of which anyone could read on her mommy blog that she'd dubbed "Little Mistakes Make Perfect Lessons," and the same blog that she'd created an empire from.

Fuck, you hated her.

Mostly because despite everything you tried you never had enough time in the day to look as flawless as she did.

Your hair never seemed to be as bouncy or perfectly styled, you never had time to put makeup on, you always had mashed carrot on your pants or some form of cheerio or baby food, as many times as you tried to carve out time for the gym you never seemed to make it, the small ring you'd once wore on your finger was sitting idle in your jewelry box upstairs where it had been for the past year after your husband of six years told you that he met someone else, and your stomach and your breasts… you didn't want to think about that right now.

You had two kids and you weren't going to pretend that it did nothing to your body, any part of your body. And as many times as you saw all the other mothers around you who were proud of the way they looked, you never had their confidence, especially not after the comments that your ex-husband had made each time the two of you finally had some time to be alone together.

But that wasn't to say you hated being a mom, you loved it, wouldn't change it for the world. It was just sometimes you wished you had a little help, that, and you wished that Mondays didn't exist. 

You groan as you reach for the phone that still vibrates desperately on your bedside table and flip it over to see who's calling before you answer it.

"Colter, why the hell are you calling me at four am?" You half moan, pulling the comforter up over your head as if that'll make Monday go away.

You'd been close to murder several times, first when you found your husband in your bed with his nineteen year-old secretary, second when your local coffee shop was out of espresso and you did your entire shift at the hospital with no coffee, and Colter Shaw waking you up at almost four in the morning was quickly becoming number three.

"Because I didn't want to wake up Emma or Luke. Can you open the door?" He replies, stating the names of your children, sounding slightly out of breath.

"What door?" You groan again, eyes still shut wishing that this was just a bad dream and Colter wasn't calling you because he needed your help… again.

"The front door. Please, I need you to let me in."

"Why are you here? Couldn't it wait until tomorrow? Did you try to call Teddi or Vel-"

"I'll explain when you come open the door."

"By doing that I'd have to get up."

"Please."

You hesitate. Colter didn't usually say please, let alone twice whenever he showed up needing your help.

You'd met him by accident.

Sure your Aunt Teddi had talked about the "rewardist" that she and your Aunt Velma worked with, but you hadn't been expecting to ever meet him. But when Colter got shot on a job and showed up at Teddi and Velma's home you'd helped patch him up. You'd been there picking up your six year old son Luke and your three year old daughter Emma, after work. Teddi and Velma watched them for you when your deadbeat ex Lance couldn't be bothered to give you the support you needed.

Which was all the time despite his continuous arguing that he was in their lives enough and if anything it was your fault that he didn't have more time with them.

Each time he said that it made you want to slam his head in the door of his brand new bright red BMW, the one he'd bought right after you found him in your bedroom plowing his secretary now girlfriend Crystal. Or as you liked to remember her, the girl who still believed that Santa Clause existed and that the U.S government was hiding him from the world.

But Colter had been hurt and it was just fate that you were there at your aunts home to pick up your kids.

Being an ER nurse meant that you knew how to patch Colter up and it wasn't long before he went on his way. That was about four months ago and since then you'd talked to him occasionally when he'd pop by at your aunts home or just to see if you could help him with something.

"Five minutes." You sigh.

This time you crawl out of bed, standing just to the side of it for a second shaking your head to clear the sleep, and grab the long sleeved blue colored duster/robe that was hanging on the back of your bedroom door. Navigating your way down the stairs in the dark as quietly as you can, while half asleep was difficult, but somehow you avoid falling to your death.

Unfortunate, because now you have to go see what Colter wants at freaking 4 am.

The second story home had been you ex-husband's idea, stated that the two of you needed "room to grow" and that the two of you were "investing in your future."

You frown at the thought.

Yeah, room to grow right into your fucking secretary.

As if you needed another blow to your self esteem, but looking at the skinny red-haired goddess that he'd traded you in for that was about as dumb as a rock had been enough to send you so low you might as well be navigating the Marianas Trench in a submarine with a Megalodon chasing after you.

Maybe that means I'd get to be with Jason Stratham.

That thought was welcome. Honestly the thought of any man was a comfort, especially in the dry spell you'd been having since -well- since you'd had Emma three years ago.

Not gonna think about that right now.

The smell of chocolate cupcakes hung heavy in the air as you crossed through the messy living room, wafting out through the open concept kitchen into the space. One look into the kitchen would show enough cupcakes to make anyone salivate, and yes maybe you'd eaten a few before going up to bed, but eating the chocolate didn't count if it was on Sunday night and you could always go to the gym tomorrow…

Yeah. Like that'll happen.

You open the front door. "Alright, somebody better be dying Colter or I swear that I'll-" You stop mid-sentence when you take in the scene on your porch.

Colter is standing there, looking worse for wear. His usual black jacket is gone, he's got a black eye and a scrape along one of his perfect cheekbones, but that's not who you're looking at.

Colter isn't alone.

There's a man leaning heavily on Colter, his muscular right arm is thrown across Colter's shoulders and due to the fact that the man is a little bigger than Colter, he's buckling slightly under his weight. The man is wearing a green army jacket that is soaked around his left shoulder in blood, his dark hair is falling long into his bearded face, and his skin is a few shades paler than it should be. But that doesn't make him any less handsome.

The man still manages to throw you a sly grin, brilliant green eyes shining beneath the strands of his dark hair. "I think you got your wish sweetheart."

"You're not dying Russell." Colter sighs as if he's annoyed. "Hi." He directs at you.

You do feel a little bit bad about saying that now, but you shake it off.

"What the hell happened?" You say as loud as you dare and pull the front door further open so Colter can drag the man, now named "Russell" into your home.

"Shoot out." Colter breathes. "Where do you want him?"

"Kitchen table." You say trying to reach for Russell's left arm to help Colter, but he groans low under his breath and you retract your hand.

"You've got to be a little gentle with me sweetheart." Russell laughs more to himself, but it comes out in a choked sound. "But you can have me wherever you want."

"Colter, he needs to go to the hospital." You say, following behind them, keeping your voice down. "I don't think that I can-"

"Can't, they'll report it. They have to report all gunshots, you know that." Colter grunts, helping Russell lay back on the large kitchen table. "Why are there so many cupcakes in here?"

"Bake sale at Luke’s school." You clip while waving a hand and looking down at Russell who is laying on the kitchen table.

You can't deny that he's attractive, even in this condition. Russell has the perfect ruggedly handsome features that would make the smartest girl stupid and combined with the piercing green eyes that shine beneath the hair that's fallen forward into his face, even you could see yourself being susceptible to his charm.

Fuck.

Deep down you know that Colter is right, that if he did go to the hospital they'd be required to report it and that meant police and an official report. You figured that it was the last thing that Colter wanted.

Then again the guy has so many marks on his record already. You eye the man on your kitchen table. Russell kinda looks like he would have a few marks too.

"Don't want who did this to find him." Colter clarifies.

"So instead you brought him to my house where my children are?" You cross your arms over your chest.

The fear that whatever Colter and Russell had stumbled upon following behind them to your home made a cold trickle of fear race down your spine.

"We weren't followed." Colter soothes. "I promise I'd never do that to you. And I've got Bobby doing a trace to make sure they don't come close."

He actually looks a little hurt that you'd think that of him. Colter was a lot of things, but uncaring was not one of them.

You relax, but don't apologize despite the guilt swimming in your gut. "Fine. Give me a second." You leave the room to find the first aid kit in the hall closet, the same one that you'd made for your aunts to keep at their house if Colter showed up in the middle of the night with this exact problem. You'd even been involved enough to show your aunts how to deal with a gunshot wound if you weren't there.

When you get back in the room, Colter is removing Russell's jacket, and Russell grits his teeth when it jostles his left arm.

You set down the kit and reach for the bottom of Russell's shirt to pull it up off him, and he chuckles.

"Aren't you going to buy me a drink first? Better yet we could have a few bottles of my home brew-"

"She's not going to help you, if you annoy her." Colter interrupts.

"I told you that I didn't need anyone's help, I'm perfectly fine- ow!" Russell exclaims when you accidentally yank the shirt over his left arm. "Your bedside manner is a little lacking." He grunts, but his eyes still twinkle with humor.

"Too bad. I'm tired and I've been making chocolate cupcakes for the past six hours, so you get what you get and you don't throw a fit."

"What?" Russell grins at the rhyme that you often tell your children.

You shake your head, and drop your eyes to his chest. There are two perfect circles on his right upper pectoral muscle, but not high enough to reach the collarbone and one in his left bicep where blood seeps around the bullets, but truthfully you're trying not to notice how perfectly muscular he is. There are dark splashes of tattoos against his skin, swirling around other scars that resemble slashes and bullet wounds that you wish to drag your fingertips across to study each mark, to memorize each one beneath the soft pads of your fingers.

How is he just as beautiful covered in blood?

You clear your throat to focus back at the task at hand, examining the current wounds. "Okay. The good news is that the one on your arm is through and through, but these two," Your hand hovers over the two on his right upper chest. "I've got to extract the bullets. Which means that this is going to hurt."

"Been through worse sweetheart."

Your eyes scan the rest of his scarred muscular chest thoughtfully. "Yeah, you have." You murmur it more to yourself than to Russell, but he still grins.

Colter's phone rings shrilly in the kitchen and he groans. "One second. Try not to make her want to kill you Rus."

"No promises little bro."

Oh, so this is Colter's brother.

You'd heard little bits and pieces about Colter's brother, mostly second hand from your Aunt Velma. One of the best things about going over to Teddi and her home was sitting in the living room and hearing Velma gossip about everything she heard from Teddi while drinking wine and eating fancy cheese that you could never afford.

Russell Shaw was no exception.

"Alone at last." Russell says with a wink. "I didn't think he'd ever leave."

"I'm going to get some water to clean these with." You reply, ignoring him, but when you turn away the end of your mouth quirks up into a smile.

He wasn't what you were expecting based on all the rumors that you'd heard from both of your aunts, in fact, you thought he was kind of charming.

You roll up your sleeves and wash your hands before turning back to Russell. He's sitting up on your kitchen table, hands braced on his sides, with his legs spread wide apart. He doesn’t look like someone with three gunshot wounds, and you wonder if this is a regular day for him. Colter certainly didn't get shot that much.

"So are you a rewardist too?" You ask standing between his legs and trying not to focus on the warmth of his breath against your collar bone.

"Naw. I work for a private security contractor." He breezes.

"Oh." You swallow, looking up into his green eyes for a minute. They're even more beautiful up close, green with flecks of gold around the iris that flicker in the light like stars. "Is it okay if I touch you?"

"You don't gotta ask me that sweetheart, the answer will always be yes."

You flush and brace your hand on his left shoulder, before pouring water into the two wounds on the right side of his chest, trying to clean them the best you can before you extract what's left of the bullets. His skin is warm and smooth beneath the palm of your hand and it's difficult to focus.

Just pretend you're in the hospital and you're treating a patient. You take in a shallow breath. He's just a patient and he's not that good looking.

You know you're lying to yourself, but you were trying your best. It probably didn’t help given the current dry spell you were in or the fact that he even smelled good. Something like gunpowder, leather, and a hint of something spicy that you bet was his shampoo. It prickled under your nose, and activated something in the back of your mind that was having a hard time being quiet. You hadn't been this close to a man you found attractive in a long time.

"Okay. This is going to hurt." You say as you look through the small medical kit that you'd grabbed from the hall closet for the tweezers, trying to calm the thudding of your heart.

"It's okay." Russell replies. "Do what you have to baby. I won't stop you."

You weren't prepared for the warmth that bloomed in the pit of your stomach when he called you baby in the wonderfully rough rumble of his voice.

A voice like that could convince me to jump into a pit filled with alligators with no regrets. Fuck. I'd bet that a voice like that could make me- FOCUS. I will focus. He is Colter's brother and he just got shot. He doesn't need you lusting over him.

Extracting the bullets is as painful for you as it is for him. Watching the way his face scrunches up in pain hurts you more than you thought it would. His hands grip the rim of the wooden kitchen table so hard that they're turning white, and Russell's jaw is clenched so tight that you're afraid that it's going to snap.

You squeeze his left shoulder to give him some comfort. "Almost done." You murmur, searching for the second bullet.

Russell lets out a breath when you finally fish out the other bullet and drop it into an empty cup with a resounding "ping" just as Colter walks back into the room looking worried.

"What?" Russell asks him, looking over your head at his brother.

"That was Bobby. He said that the trace we put on the phone just got a hit a few miles north of here." Colter states. "I'm gonna go check it out."

"Alright, I'll come with." Russell starts to get up, but you push him back with your right hand that you've still got pressed against his left shoulder. Difficult given the fact that he was almost twice the size of you and broader than anyone you'd ever seen. And also difficult because of the way you were trying to ignore how good it felt to feel the pull of his muscles beneath your hand.

"No. You still need stitches and I haven't finished patching you up." You clear your throat, but it still sounds a little hoarse.

"Baby as much as I like you ordering me around-“

"It's alright Russell, I've got this. Just stay here and let her take care of you." Colter interrupts.

Russell frowns at his younger brother. "I'm fine."

"You're not." Colter rolls his eyes. "Stay here. I'll be back in a few hours to pick you up." He turns to look at you. "I'm sorry that we woke you up-"

"It's okay." You shrug. "But you owe me."

"Just add it to my bill." Colter smirks.

Honestly, you weren't as angry as you were when you answered the phone. Something about Russell was different and you didn’t mind helping him at all.

He wasn't like anyone that you had ever met, certainly not in the circles you ran with.

All the dads from your mom friends were blue and white collar workers who worked in the big office buildings downtown, wore suits to work and were more straight-laced, but there was something refreshing about Russell.

He was mysterious, sexy, and his had this aura of self-resilience and survival that you found immensely attractive. Especially when compared to your ex, who couldn't survive without his mocha-caramel double shot latte or wifi.

Russell was the exact opposite of him and you found yourself wanting to know more. More about the almost beautiful scars that curved over his muscular body, more about each tattoo that he’d chosen, and more about him.

He seemed like the kind of guy that hid his trauma under easy smiles and jokes, the kind of person that shrugged off anything that seemed remotely serious with a well placed joke, but you could feel that there was something deeper beneath that he didn’t allow many to see.

And you wanted him to show you.

You weren't sure where any of this was coming from. Russell probably was about as stable and consistent as his brother, and you liked consistency. Spontaneity and surprises tended to make you anxious. But not with Russell.

Though the stability might have been an issue. You were a single working mother, which meant that you didn't want to introduce some random guy into your children's life just to have them get attached and him to bail with no strings attached and-

Calm down. You just met the guy, it's not like he's asking you out on a date.

When Colter leaves and after you’ve cleaned around the wounds the best you can with some alcohol, you realize just how quiet it is in your kitchen.

“You know, I think I’ve seen you before.” Russell says breaking the silence while you search for a needle and thread in the medical kit.

“Really? Where?" You ask looking up.

“In my dreams.”

“Wow." You smile at him. "That line is pretty cheesy."

You shift your right hand over to begin to sew up the wounds on his chest. Russell doesn't even wince when you push the needle through, almost as if he didn't notice it at all.

It made sense, given how many scars and tattoos covered his body. You remember what he said about "being through worse" and it made you feel bad for him, to worry about him. Odd given the fact that the two of you had just met.

"Well I'm a little distracted at the moment sweetheart. It's not often that I get such a beautiful woman to take care of me."

"I thought you didn't need my help?" You smirk.

"Maybe I did." He admits sheepishly.

"Mhmm."

"So how do you know my brother?"

“Why?”

“Trying to see if you’re off limits or not.” Russell tilts his head to the side and flashes a charming smile.

You laugh at his boldness. You’d never met someone so upfront before, it was refreshing. Most of the men you’d meet occasionally at work tended to beat around the bush and made you want to give them a map to get to the point. "We met when he got shot a few months ago."

"Oh so the two of you aren't-" He wiggles his eyebrows and you snort.

"No."

"Huh."

"What?"

"I was just wondering why not?"

"What?"

"Well, you're gorgeous, you're smart, and you're not scared of blood or gunshots. Colter really seems to be dropping the ball."

"Colter doesn't exactly have a stable lifestyle. And I'm kind of complicated."

You were, there wasn't any way around it.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because I've got two kids."

Russell blinks in surprise. "Really?"

"Mhmm." You hum continuing your task, not phased by the blood at all.

His eyes trace your figure for a minute, making a shiver travel down your spine. It was the first time in a long time that you were okay with someone looking at you like that and to be honest, the first time that you wanted someone to look at you like that in a while.

After everything that happened with your ex-husband and his secretary you were more inclined to sit on your couch with a glass of wine and read away your troubles with a steamy romance novel that did more for you than any of your ex-husband's attempts to satisfy you. It also didn't help that you had no interest in going out with your few friends and meeting someone at a club who probably would never call you again and probably wouldn't be as enthusiastic to learn that you were a mom.

You'd only been on one date since you'd broken it off with your husband with your aunts accountant Jerry, and the date stuttered to a halt when he learned you had two children and weren't interested in having an open relationship.

"I wouldn't have guessed that."

“Really? The mountain of chocolate cupcakes wasn’t a clue?” You arch an eyebrow with a smirk, while gently tying off the string to close the first wound before moving on to the second.

“I thought you just really liked baking. And I’m okay with coming home every night to a mountain of chocolate cupcakes if it means you’re there too.” He winks.

“Not sure you want any of those.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they’re gluten free, sugar free, and nut free.”

The horrified look on Russell’s face makes you feel like you’d just told him that hot dogs do in fact contain trace amounts of dog.

“Why on earth would you make them like that?! They're not even cupcakes anymore!" He exclaims.

You found it funny that he seemed more upset over the mutilation of the chocolate cupcakes than over being shot.

Maybe he's always like this?

"I know. I'm a monster." You sigh. "But Stephanie Jacobson said I had to." You let out a frustrated sigh with her name.

Bringing anything other than what she asked for was a suicide mission. The last person who did that was Gale Smith in the great Fourth of July Cook-out calamity of 2021. In Gale's defense, no one though that the bushes would catch fire so fast, but Stephanie had a memory like an elephant so Gale decided to transfer her children to the school one town over. The last thing you wanted was for your name to go down in history for the Cupcake Catastrophe of 2024.

Russell leans forward and lowers his voice like it's a secret. “Is Stephanie your imaginary friend?”

“No!” You laugh. “She’s this other mom at my son’s school who said I wasn’t living up to my ‘duties as a parent’ and that I needed to ‘participate.’”

"She sounds great."

"Oh yeah, we're practically best friends." You continue to work on the other wounds in the silence that follows.

"I bet you're a good mom." Russell says watching you with an unreadable expression. He's leaning a little bit towards you still, making the smell gunmetal, leather, spice, and just a hint of mint come through the space between the two of you.

Damn he smells really good.

"Uh-huh. You've known me for ten minutes and you haven't seen me with my children-"

"I can tell."

"Is that your superpower or something?" You reach for a bandage to lay over the wound in his chest smiling to yourself. "All the other useful superpowers like being bulletproof got taken?"

"I don't think it's useless if it makes you smile like that when I say it, sweetheart."

Your eyes flick upwards to Russell's face. His green eyes are shining in the light of your kitchen, his dark hair still hanging over his forehead, and he is still just as ridiculously handsome as he was the moment Colter dragged him through your front door. You don’t remember why you were so mad at Colter anymore.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're too smooth for your own good?" You raise your eyebrow.

"No ma'am." Russell cracks an even wider smile and it makes you loose all feeling in your legs. He was just so effortlessly handsome that it made you want to do something stupid, like have sex with him on top of the same kitchen table that you serve blueberry pancakes to your children.

"Hmm." You bite the inside of your cheek. "Well, now you know and maybe now that you're aware, it could prevent you from getting shot."

"Are you saying I got shot because I'm too smooth?"

"Maybe."

"Because usually it has a different effect."

"Huh. Well in that case, maybe try using some of that to smooth things over and you'd avoid getting shot." You begin to wrap another fresh bandage around the bullet wound on his arm, bracing your free hand against his chest, trying to ignore the way his skin is warm and chiseled beneath your palm.

He had the kind of body that you'd never imagined actually existed. Russell Shaw looked like he walked out one of the romance novels you loved so much.

Hell, they should use pictures of him to make the book covers.

"I'll remember that next time." Russell pauses. "But then it means I wouldn’t get shot and I wouldn't get to have you patch me up."

"I guess not."

You didn't think that you'd smiled as much as you had in the past twenty minutes with him than you had your entire five year marriage. Not to mention that it was nice to talk to someone who wasn't trying to convince you why they should be allowed to have a cookie before dinner.

A charged silence passes through the air between the two of you, his eyes locked on yours sending goosebumps over your skin. You weren't sure if anyone had ever looked at you like that before. You'd noticed that most gave you the obligatory skate over, but Russell didn't. He looked at you as if he was studying you as if he were genuinely curious to know more. 

Your eyes trace his broad shoulders, toned abdomen, and muscular arms, noting that he's the kind of strong and broad that was made to handle someone a little more curvy like you. And you'd be lying if you said that you hadn't thought about it more than once since Russell came through your front door.

You felt your mind sink into the fantasy of Russell pining you to the kitchen table and feeling the warmth of his rough hands against your body-

Snap out of it. The guy is bleeding, he got shot. He needs to rest.

"I think you'll survive." You smile pulling back from him to clear your head. It was much easier when you couldn't smell him as strongly. "And if Colter isn't going to be back for a few hours you can crash on the couch. It's not the most comfortable but-"

"I'm sure it's fine." Russell shrugs and stands from your kitchen table.

You try and fail to ignore how his muscles pull with the movement as he reaches for his shirt and you step forward to help him put it on, knowing that it might hurt with his injury. "Okay." You clear your throat, that has become thick all of a sudden. "And if you're hungry I've got plenty of cupcakes-"

"Please don't call them that. They're an disgrace to the cupcake name."

"Yeah, but the ones in the microwave are actually cupcakes. I had to make a few that were edible." You gesture with your hand and laugh at how quickly Russell goes to get one.

He doesn’t even bother to pull away the wrapping before he takes a bite and he audibly moans. Russell looks at you awestruck. "Holy shit, you made this? Where have you been all my life?"

"Shut up." You roll your eyes at him.

"I'm serious, this cupcake is my reason to keep living. Here I thought putting sriracha on French fries was the height of cuisine, but damn."

You could feel yourself blush bright red at his compliment. You weren't used to a man going out of his way to compliment you on something other than how you looked, but everything about Russell Shaw was refreshing and nothing like you expected.

"Thank you." You wait another second, watching him eat more of the cupcake and smash icing and flecks of chocolate over his chin. You laugh at him and hand him a paper towel. "You're worse than my three year old."

"Your three year old is a lucky kid, if she’s got a mom like you to make stuff like this for her."

It's like he wants me to fall in love with him. How can someone look so unbelievably cute and sexy while covered in chocolate cupcake?

Don't answer that.

"Sometimes I think I'm the lucky one. I love my kids-" You say before you can stop yourself. You hesitate afraid that it would send Russell for the hills when you brought up the fact that you loved your children.

"Yeah?" Russell's smile brightens as he wipes his face with the napkin.

"Yeah." You blink mildly shocked. Of all the people in the world to talk about your children with, you never expected someone like Russell Shaw. “I do."

Again he was surprising you, and talking to him was just so refreshing and it made you feel like your head had finally cleared, like your chest was lighter and you could actually talk to someone for real without putting out this together image of yourself you thought you had to when inside you were crumbling from the overbearing expectations of the people around you.

The silence is back, filling the kitchen with a palpable energy that you wonder if Russell can feel, but you shake it off.

"I guess I'll see you in the morning. It was nice to meet you Russell, but I'm sorry that you got shot." You smile.

"I'm not." Russell smiles. "I got to meet you."

"Alright Casanova, I need to go to bed, because my kids will wake me up in about two hours." You frown over at the couch. "There's a pillow and a blanket down the hall in the bathroom closet." You gesture with one hand. "I'll see you in the morning." You repeat because you're not too sure what to say.

"Yeah. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

You turn and walk up the stairs to your bedroom, feeling the thin blue robe swishing around your ankles as you do.

And as you fall into your bed all you can think about as you start to drift is the ruggedly handsome man downstairs, with the brilliant green eyes that crinkle with his smile, and the large hands rough from hard work, that seems to be more than what meets the eye.

The alarm clock on your bedside table might as well be employed by the devil for waking you up and the idea of smashing it to bits with the heavy metal table lamp that sits beside it crosses your mind. You weren't sure how many hours you'd gotten in, only that they weren't enough, and you were in desperate need of coffee.

You roll over on your back, looking up at your ceiling as you blink your eyes open, following the familiar sweeps of the paint brush that were left behind.

The memory of the night's events come back in full color and you stiffen remembering exactly why you'd gone to bed so late. Images of last night flash through your mind. Colter dragging a bloodied Russell through your front door, Russell sitting on your kitchen table looking much too attractive covered in blood, him flirting with you with a wide smile that made you feel warm from the inside out…

Oh fuck he's still on my couch. How am I going to explain that to my kids?

You dress in a flash and stumble down the stairs as quickly as you can, tripping and falling into the living room, but when you look you realize that Russell isn't on the couch. The pillow and brightly colored quilted blanket he used are neatly folded on one of the plush cushions, but he's nowhere to be found.

I guess Colter came to get him.

You weren't expecting the wave of disappointment that comes with that realization, but as you turn to go back up the stairs to ready yourself for the day, you hear your daughter’s voice.

"Mommy!" She says. "Look! Rus is making pancakes."

What?

You turn to investigate your spacious kitchen. It was still covered in an alarming amount of cupcakes, but that’s not what’s surprising, what’s surprising is Russell, standing at your crowded stove with a spatula in his hand, sliding a perfectly golden brown pancake around in the bottom of a pan.

You blink your eyes to make sure that you’re not imagining it and make sure that you’re not asleep.

"Hey gorgeous." Russell flashes a wide grin. "How'd you sleep?"

"Um-" You glance at where your daughter is sitting with your son, both eating stacks of pancakes at your kitchen table, the same kitchen table that you were fantasizing about Russell and you-

Nope. Not going there.

Honestly, any fantasy you had about him was blown away by the sight of him standing in your kitchen making pancakes for your children. Something so domestically wonderful that turned you on even more than the image of him shirtless sitting on your kitchen table.

This was something even your husband refused to do, cook. Any day that you tried to get him to, he'd said that it was your "job." And here Russell was standing in your kitchen looking even more effortlessly gorgeous cooking for your family without being asked.

"I sleep good. How did you sleep?" You ask taking a hesitant step towards him.

"Good. Better than I have in a bit actually." He turns back to the pan and flicks his wrist, flipping the pancake inside.

Emma claps happily and Luke watches Russell with a look of absolute awe on his face, while you try not to have impure thoughts about Russell in front of your children.

"You didn't have to make breakfast-"

"I did." He plates the pancake and holds it out to you. "I wanted to thank you for patching me up."

"It wasn't a big deal." You shrug, but take the pancake from the plate, rolling it up like a taco before you take a bite.

Russell cocks his head to the side studying you for a moment. "It was to me." His green eyes are just as hypnotic today as they were last night, tracing over your body in a way that makes pins and needles tickle over your skin. "Plus, wanted to make the kids something that wasn't gluten free, nut free, and sugar free. Emma sure can put away some pancakes."

It was odd to see someone so eager to make himself comfortable in your house, especially a man you barely knew and who you owed absolutely nothing to. Not to mention that Russell genuinely seemed happy to be making breakfast for your children as if he belonged there.

It was so different from every other man that you'd ever met, and you wanted to get used to it. You wanted to get used to having a man around again, to having Russell in your home and in your life. You'd never been spontaneous or wanted to jump headfirst without looking at the pros and cons, but watching Russell standing at your stove, with the sunlight coming through the windows behind him and illuminating his broad shoulders and sifting through his dark hair, you saw absolutely no downside.

"Yeah she's always had a good appetite."

"Hope she doesn't lose that. I hate it when women don't eat." Russell shrugs his shoulders and goes back to make a pancake for himself. "Plus Luke needs to bulk up. He said his dad is going to sign him up for baseball."

You stiffen at the mention of your ex, not sure if you should supply the information, or if you should let it slide. Russell's eyes flick down at your left hand for a half-second, so quickly you could have missed it, but you understood what he was doing.

"He's my ex-husband." You murmur low enough so only Russell could hear.

"Good." Russell replies with a knowing smirk. "Means that I don’t have any competition."

You roll your eyes at his reaction and walk over to where your children are eating. Luke is covered in maple syrup as per usual. He had always been a messy eater, but because he insisted on having his hair cropped short, it never seemed to be too much of a problem.

Just as Emma looks like your ex-husband, Lance, Luke looks like you. He has the same eyes and same colored hair, but he'd always been a little short for his age. Lance usually picked at him for that, but you didn't know what Lance was expecting, Luke was six years old, he'd grow!

"Good pancakes?" You ask, trying to wipe at his face with a napkin but he pulls away with an exclaimed "Mom!"

"What? You're covered in syrup." You laugh, raising the napkin again, but Luke dodges your hand.

"Mom!" Luke says again.

"Alright, fine. But go get dressed, your dad will be here to pick you up any minute." You say, urging him with a hand against his shoulder.

Today Lance was taking Luke to school and picking him up after for a baseball game, before staying with him at his apartment. You’d told your Aunt Teddi and your Aunt Velma that you'd help them plant a garden today, and Emma had been looking forward to it as much as you had.

Velma had been talking about it all through last week, and you’d gotten the day off specifically off for it. Emma was also excited about it because Teddi had bought flowers specifically for butterflies and your daughter loved them more than life itself.

You were looking forward to working out in the sun, feeling the healing rays against your skin, listening to the sounds of the world outside your aunts familiar home soothe you, play with the dogs for a little bit, and finally go inside for a few glasses of wine while Velma, Teddi, and you talked about the book of the month. Book club nights were especially special for Emma as well. Velma always poured Emma's apple juice into a plastic pink wine glass that she'd bought for Emma so she could feel included.

This book had been really good and you couldn't wait to share what you'd thought while eating expensive cheese and cupcakes and while the dogs circled below like raptors.

You loved being at their home. It was always such a comfort to be somewhere where you felt that you could be yourself especially after Lance left you. Your mother had died when you were a kid and your dad had never been equipped to handle things like that so your Aunt Teddi had picked up the slack in your early years and now after she'd married Velma, you had another person in your life who supported you and made you feel like you could be yourself. Both of them had been furious when they learned about what Lance had done and sat with you while you cried into a box of tissues.

It had been difficult to talk them both out of killing Lance. Surprising since your Aunt Teddi was usually the voice of reason.

Luke sighs, but listens to you, getting up from the table to make his way upstairs. You can hear his footsteps as he walks down the hallway above and into his room.

Despite his reluctance, he was looking forward to today as well. Sometimes you thought that he felt left out when you all went over to your aunts house. You knew that Luke longed for the attention of his father, and something broke inside of you each time your ex-husband made him feel forgotten.

You turn to look at your daughter. "Good pancakes?"

"Yes!"

"Did you tell Russell thank you?"

"Thank you Rus!" She sing-songs with a wide smile, before moving her plastic fork back into the pile enthusiastically.

"You're welcome sweetheart." Russell says from the stove, picking up the pancake in the skillet bare handed before he puts a generous stripe of maple syrup along the inside and rolls it up just like you did. "Do you want another one?" His gaze turns to you, warm and open.

Fuck, why is he so damn attractive?

"No I'm-"

The knock on the front door interupts your answer signifying the arrival of Lance. When he'd moved out of the house you'd changed all the locks and then refused to give him a key. Something that he'd pouted and stomped about worse than your toddler, but you'd held firm. You didn't want him in your house and you definitely didn't want her in your house either.

"Daddy!" Emma squeals and before you can stop her, she leaps from her chair like she'd been shot from a cannon and runs down the front hallway to open the door for your ex.

You sigh out a breath to prepare yourself for what comes next. Talking to Lance was always tense and as much as you tried to be civil, Lance didn't. He didn't pull punches, and often lacked the common decency that everyone else had.

Russell's studying you again, his easy smile slipping into a frown when he notes the change in your attitude.

"Stay here. This shouldn't take long." You force a smile, but it lacks the enthusiasm you’d had whenever you talked to Russell before.

Sometimes just the thought of your ex took the energy out of you, as if you were on a space ship and all the air got sucked out into the cold silent vacuum.

Lance is standing on the front step hugging your daughter with one hand while the other holds his phone behind her head, his gaze intently on the screen while Emma chatters in his ear. He's not paying attention though. He never was and never did.

His black hair is slicked back over his head and cropped shorter than the last time you saw him. Now it barely touches his collar but hangs long over the top of his head. His brown eyes glint an amber in the light of the sun, and he’s wearing a tailored blue suit with a dark patterned tie.

“Hey.” Lance clips to you as he stands, releasing Emma who is still trying to talk to him, but he ignores her.

You grind your teeth together. “Hi.”

He sighs audibly sensing the tension, as if it’s you that’s done something wrong.

“Emma, why don’t you go finish your pancakes?” You smile down at your daughter and pat her on the head. “We’ve got to go soon.”

“Okay! Bye daddy!”

“That’s nice honey.” He says absentmindedly, still typing furiously on his phone, while Emma rushes back down the hallway and into the kitchen, that is hidden from view of the front door.

“You know you could put the phone down for once. The world won’t implode if you wait a few seconds to answer a text.” You say.

“Don’t start.” Lance rolls his eyes.

The BMW idling at the curb catches in the early morning sunlight and you see a flash of red-hair. Crystal is in the passenger seat, her auburn hair piled on top of her head effortlessly, her lips painted a dark colored red, there’s a pair of heart shaped sunglasses over her eyes, and she’s wearing black dress low cut enough that her ample breasts spill out through the wide V.

She peers at you from where she sits in the car, her phone perched in her lap, and you watch her dark colored lips twitch into a knowing smirk when she catches you looking at her.

Each time you saw her was like taking a punch to the gut.  It made you pull your oversized sweater a little tighter over your chest self-consciously.

“I’m not starting anything. I’m just saying that you should pay more attention to-“ You begin, but Lance interrupts.

“I don’t want to do this with you. I have a deposition due today and I have to finish sending this email.” He snaps.

“Fine.” You sigh, trying to remain calm. You hated when he did this, when he made it seem like no one and nothing else was important except his job. “Luke is getting ready. I have to box up these cupcakes for a bake sale at the school. All you have to do is drop them off and tell-“

“Oh sorry babe. Can’t do the thing today.”

You bristled when he called you babe. You weren't his, not after everything the two of you had been through.

“What do you mean you can’t do the ‘thing’ today?” You plant your hands on your hips trying to comprehend what he's saying.

“With the kid. Sorry. Crystal made plans for us at some fancy restaurant or whatever. Supposed to be the best in the city-“

“What?”

“I can’t take the kid today.” He repeats slowly, this time looking up, but he doesn’t bother to apologize, and his gaze barely meets yours before he drops his eyes back to the hand clutched in his perfectly manicured fingers.

“But you promised Luke that you were going to take him to a baseball game today after school. That he was going to get to spend the night with you and-“

“Sorry.” The apology isn’t sincere and you know it, despite Lance’s attempts to drop his smile into a sympathetic frown. It comes across as more condescending.

Crystal honks the horn of the car as if to tell Lance to hurry up, and it takes a very large amount of effort for you not to flip her the bird.

“No. Luke has been looking forward to this all week! Not to mention I had to ask off for today specifically-“

“And I’ll apologize to him too.” Lance goes back to typing something on his phone. “This dinner means a lot to Crystal-“

“I don’t give two shits what means a lot to that red-haired bimbo!” You snap, the rage and frustration building in your chest. “You made a promise to your son to take him to a baseball game and actually spend time with him and that’s exactly what you’re going to do!”

Lance looks up from his phone, his eyes narrowing. “You always fucking do this.”

“Do what?”

“Pick a fight.”

“I am not picking a fight Lance. All you’ve done since you’ve shown up here is ignore your daughter and tell me that you’re backing out of the one thing I’ve asked you to do in months!”

“I told you that I have a meeting and a deposition due today! Damn it, what do you want from me? To quit my big job that pays for this house?” He steps forward towering over you. Lance was taller than you, but he had always been lanky and thin, unable to gain too much weight or muscle at a time. “Why do you find the need to make me feel like my life isn’t important?”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything about your life! I’m talking about our son’s life-“ You shout incredulous.

“This is exactly why I got out when I did. Because you always try to control every little thing. You’re so damn OCD that if I did one microscopic thing that wasn’t apart of your ‘special plans’ you’d spontaneously combust! You never just shut your big mouth and let me just fucking live my life! You never let me feel like a man! And Crystal understands-“

“Crystal can’t even understand that pickles were once cucumbers! I doubt she can understand whatever warped reality you’re living in Lance.” You spit. “But I’m sorry that me asking you to be a part of our children’s lives is too much for you. That it’s such a chore for you to make them happy.” The frustrated tears had begun to burn against your eyes.

You didn’t know why you expected anything different. Lance had been doing this since your son was born, putting his career above everything else, working late, schmoozing whoever he could, being so damn selfish that he was willing to throw everything the two of you built together for the woman sitting in the car on the curb watching the two of you go at it with a sick satisfaction.

“Don’t fucking do that!” Lance roars and this time he slams his hand against the door frame so roughly that the glass inside shakes and you flinch. “I don’t know why I even try to talk to you. So why don’t you get your big ass up those stairs and-“

“Is there a problem?” Russell’s voice interrupts whatever Lance was going to say, his body sliding into the space behind you so suddenly that you didn’t hear him walk up.

But it felt good for him to be there, to feel the warmth of his body through the air at your back.

He places his hand on the door to open it up a little wider and to seem a bit more intimidating. Russell is easily taller and broader than Lance.

Lance looks up at him confused, puffing out his chest to look more intimidating. “Who the fuck are you?”

 “Maybe you shouldn’t use that kind of language around the kids-“ Russell says with a tight lipped smile.

“They’re my fucking kids. Don’t tell me how to talk.” Lance’s gaze flicks to you. “Who the fuck is this?”

“I’m Russell.” He replies before you can. “And if you know what’s good for you I’d take a few steps back from her.” Russell’s large hand gently presses against your waist, a comforting weight that you weren’t expecting, but welcome, nonetheless.

It made you feel a little bit bolder.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Lance snarls. “Is this your boyfriend? Really? You finally decided to go out with someone and that’s who you pick?”

“Look buddy, if you keep talking to her that way, we’re going to have a problem.” Russell sighs. “And I don’t want to get any blood on your fancy suit.”

“I’m not your buddy. And trust me she’s not worth the fight.” Lance sneers at you, giving you a once over that makes you want to crawl into a hole and die.

Russell’s jaw clenches tight and he takes a step forward, but you hold out your arm to stop him.

“He’s not my boyfriend and even if he was, it’s none of your business who I date!” You snap back.

Lance only shakes his head, ignoring what you’ve said. “I’m serious pal you don’t want to get involved with her. She’s fucking crazy, not to mention nothing special when it comes to se-“

The next words are lost in the sound of Russell’s fist landing against Lance’s face, the sharp crack followed by the inhuman scream of Crystal at the car. Lance stumbles back off the front step clutching a hand to his face while blood streams through his pinched fingers and over his chin.

“I warned you. Now if you keep talking, I'll make your eyes match.” Russell growls, flexing his hand.

I hope he didn’t rip his stitches.

“You son of a bitch.” Lance sputters, his hand still holding his broken nose. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!”

“It’s worth it, if it shuts you up.” He replies unfazed.

Lance’s eyes narrow with hate as he looks at you one more time, before stumbling back to his car where Crystal has begun to wail over the amount of blood coming from his nose. The car squeals down the street and out of sight, leaving Russell and you standing on your front porch. Thankfully Emma was still in the kitchen eating her pancakes and Luke was upstairs, you didn't want either of them to see Russell punch their dad.

But that didn't mean that you wouldn't mind seeing it again.

You groaned when you thought about your son. You didn’t know how on earth you were going to explain to him why his dad wasn’t going to pick him up or take him to the game.

But at the same time there was a sickening amount of pleasure that bubbled beneath the surface at the thought of Russell breaking Lance’s nose.

“Are you okay?” Russell asks turning to look at you. There’s anger still simmering beneath the surface. You’d never seen him angry in all the time he’d stayed with you. All you’d seen was the funny, easy going, guy with the gorgeous smile, but to see him like this and especially to see him angry over what had just happened…

Just when I thought he couldn’t get any more attractive.

“Yeah. I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologize for that asshole. He shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” Russell hesitates. “Does he always talk to you like that?”

“Pretty much.”

“Damn, should have knocked a few teeth out too. He’s got to learn how to speak to a lady, especially one as beautiful as you.”

You felt your cheeks flush. You couldn’t remember the last time that someone called you beautiful and before you can stop yourself you say:

“I don’t think you’re too bad looking yourself.”

“Oh I know. You couldn’t keep your hands off me last night.” Russell’s grin makes you smile and roll your eyes at him.

Again you’re struck by how charming he is and how kind. He didn’t have to do any of the things he’d done today, but he did anyway. He didn’t have to make breakfast for your children, he didn’t have to step in when your ex-husband got mouthy, and he didn’t have to punch Lance in the face, but Russell had.

He'd done more for you in the past few hours than your husband had done in the six years you'd been married to him.

Behind where Russell's standing, Colter’s truck pulls up to idle on the curb in the same place that the BMW had been sitting moments ago, and you raise a hand in a half-wave to greet him. Colter shoots you a grin and waves back.

“Guess my ride’s here.” Russell says glancing back at his brother over his shoulder before he looks back at you.

“Seems so.” You nod. “Are you sure you don’t want me to check your stitches for you one more time before you go? I mean you probably ripped them when you punched Lance."

“Sounds like you just want to catch another peak of me without my shirt on.” Russell laughs, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and hit him on the arm.

“Ow.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Maybe.” He’s studying you again, the sunlight turning his hair a honeyed brown and his eyes into a sharp jade. The light catches his broad shoulders and traces along his strong jaw that is covered in a healthy amount of stubble that makes him look rugged and more handsome than any man you’d ever met.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “It was nice to meet you Russell. And again, I'm sorry that you got shot."

Russell shrugs. “It was worth it. I got to meet you and I got to punch that asshole in the face so win-win.”

“You didn’t have to-“

“Yes, I did.” Russell’s jaw tightens. “You didn’t deserve any of the things he was saying about you or about the kids.”

“True.” You hesitate.

Should I ask him for his number or is that too forward?

“I’ll see you around.” Russell smiles at you one more time before making his way to his brother’s car, just as Emma joins you on the front step.

“Did daddy leave?” She sounds sad.

“Yeah. He did.” You take her small hand in yours.

“But why does Russell have to go too?” She whines.

“Because he’s going home.”

You felt a twinge in your chest watching him get into the car, knowing that you probably would never see him ever again. It made you sad to know that. You'd been interested in him and you thought he was interested in you, but he hadn't asked for your number.

Maybe he's flirty and charming with everyone.

You hide the frown that comes with that thought. Emma waves goodbye with her freehand, and Russell smiles from the passenger seat, waving back at your daughter, before he raises his gaze to yours again and winks.

Or maybe not.

When you go back inside the house, Luke is still upstairs, and instead of going up to tell him about his father, you turn to go back into your kitchen to clean up. As you near the stove, you notice a bright green piece of paper under one of the magnets on your refrigerator, fluttering slightly in the air-conditioning.

You pull it down to look.

In case you want some more pancakes or if you bake any more of those life changing cupcakes. Give me a call. -Russell.

His phone number was written under his name, next to a smiley face that made you laugh aloud to yourself.

Sunday nights were the worst, but not this time.

A/N: Alright, I had so much fun with this one! I just had this urge to write Russell with a reader who had children and a trash man ex because why not? And I know I said it would be a one-shot… but my mind is already thinking of all the possibilities lol. Mostly because we all know I can’t really write just a one-shot 😅😂

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y’all think!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[kanguin]

Apropos of nothing, here's my top 15 anime and whether the story would be improved if you made the main character a trans girl:

1. That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime - You can't transition Rimuru in a way that matters, but honestly if Rimuru did start to ID as a woman over time, that would be cool. Unlikely though considering his human form is the body of Shizu, so a fully fem form would feel pervy to Rimuru.

2. Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood - Well it'd certainly make the title funny if you made Edward into Edwina. And it'd make Ed/Winry into yuri. But honestly it'd change very little imho. Though it would be interesting to explore transition in a world where alchemy exists, but just in a different story. Might make for a fascinating post-canon fanfic?

3. Mushoku Tensei: Jobless Reincarnation - Oh god would it. The story is already focused on exploring identity and already has dysphoria when a god he talks to forces him into his pre-reincarnation body on the astral plane. Making Rudy into a polyamorous trans lesbian would literally be peak and elevate the story so much.

4. Kaguya-sama: Love is War - You know what? Yeah. I can vibe with making Miyuki Shirogane trans. It would add another layer of intrigue to the story AND make it gay. It could even be funny if Kaguya or Chica found out before Shirogane did. Wait. No. It would be hilarious if YU ISHIGAMI found out first, and just, assumed Miyuki was closeted, and not just, clueless. Yes this could add so much entertainment value.

5. Dungeon Meshi - Lord almighty get this autistic furry a choker and some estrogen, stat. I make it no secret how I feel about the Trans Touden Sisters interpretation.

6. Dandadan - Make Okarun and Jiji trans girls and make the main cast a messy polycule and sign me the FUCK up please! It would be so funny and so much fun. I NEED this version of Dandadan. It'd be even funnier considering how much is focused around Ken's junk and him being partially possessed by an old lady.

7. Overlord - NGL I'm not even sure anything would change if you made Momonga into a trans woman. She'd act the exact same, and so would everyone else. Interesting for sure, but fruitless, ultimately.

8. My Dressup Darling - Crack? Crack cocaine? Do you realize how amazing it would be to make this into a story about a gyaru girl pulling a closeted trans girl excitably out of the closet?! This would make this so much cuter than it already is, I think I'd EXPLODE.

9. How a Realist Hero Rebuilt the Kingdom - It wouldn't change much narratively, but the world could always use more stories with polyamorous trans lesbians as the protagonist.

10. The Faraway Paladin - Wouldn't change much honestly, but it would be cool. Tbh Season 2 Will looks like a stealth/closeted trans girly already.

11. Mob Psycho 100 - Again wouldn't change much but would be fun. Put Mob on estrogen and watch her transform from anxiety autism failboy to anxiety autism failgirl. And then still be the kindest person in any room.

... Okay though, on second thought, getting to see her go ???% on a transphobe would be cool as shit.

12. One Punch Man - another no change case. One Punch Woman. She has boobs now. She probably transitioned in like a day somehow.

13. My Hero Academia - I think putting Midoriya on estrogen would fix the show actually. Maybe also put the writer on estrogen just to be sure. (joke)

14. Kill la Kill - Making Ryuko Matoi a trans girl would actually be really cool, especially with her challenging establishment, with the themes of clothes being a restrictive aspect of society, and with her gay romance with Mako. I've seen so many trans girls on Tumblr with Ryuko's exact shameless, confident personality, I just know it'd be epic.

15. Cautious Hero: The Hero is Overpowered but Overly Cautious - It would change little about how Seiya acts, but realizing she's trans would definitely give Ristarte's bisexual ass a nosebleed. Though Seiya would probably be ultra mega hyper closeted behind numerous mystic barriers, so that'd be fun to explore.

[mavcancees]

im happy for dteam yeah!! Like they're happy and with new Friends who love them and love to roleplay and joke with them the same way (team mafia match their freak so well) and seem excited to try new stuff again which makes me happy.

I thought they and mostly dream stopped doing so much this year, not only bc they're trying more ambicious projects that require more time but also bc of the everything happening they weren't feeling motivated to go and stream, specially with some of the stuff in this recent months, but now i see they're happy and with motivation and that makes me smile :D I hope seeing them more often being happy, i'm so glad this new Friends are motivating them to do stuff just for the fun of it again

Also sapnap and piru writting each other names in their death notes was peak moment like lmaooo i love them

you will now allow me the parasocial moment of the month, but i think most people don't get it and that's why reddit behaves like that

imagine the grief of all of it. not just the losses but the ways in which things were lost. the public spectacle. there is not one thing from 2020 and their rise to fame that the dteam can still claim, it's only each other

and like. i'm supposed to pretend things feel normal to them? and that they are going to continue as if they were normal ? obviously not. it is so clear to me that a lot of the "empty" time in their content is just grief adjacent

yes obviously the preparation and the big projects and all. but like, they are human beings ? of course they are hurt by it and you don't just get over something like ALL THAT in a day or two. you try and make something new and everything just ends like shit again over and over and over. and you lose your project and you lose your friends and nobody ever defends you. yeah, i get it, they're tired

this whole new thing however does not exactly depend on them so it's kinda like. being offered to start again in a way ?

a lot of these creators are people who adore them and look up to them and have seen the controversies and chose to still side with them every time. even before being friends, before you could say it was "beneficial" for them to do so. they liked them because they did and that's it

and now they're all friends, and they all want to do stuff, and there's no who has the biggest dick infighting. it's just genuine joy of being able to do things together, as shitty and unprepared as they come. they're not the ones that need to reach out anymore, it's an even friendship that they don't have to fight tooth and nail to maintain

they go out, and get invited to each other's events all the time unconditionally, and they make stupid jokes and nobody shits on them about it, and they don't get told they're too loud or too annoying or too competitive or whatever the fuck. and nobody expects anything in return. and they can disappear for months and come back and they will still like them all the same

so obviously you have a new motivation now. to get on calls again, to be in these events, to make an irl stream, to even stream at all. people around them don't hate them, they get invited to do things, people want to organise things WITH them, they won't get shittalked after a competition is over, and if they are their friends BY THEIR WON VOLITION will defend them

it's different and it's gonna take time of course like all things, but it's new and it's good. it's starting over. and they deserve the space to go through whatever that entails, because they've been through enough

[pipwasreal]

Oooh costume and prop details, nice!

@gameo-archive, fresh batch ahoy!

Transcript under the read more...

Anke! It's so nice to hear from you. It's George here, as I'm sure you know, from Dead Boy Detectives. Thank you so much for requesting a cameo. It's such a pleasure to see your name pop up once again.

I'm joined here by my trusted doglet, Raffy-roo, who is... actually, it's probably time for his food soon. I should check the time...

Thank you for writing in! Let's get straight into it. So, you've said you have "a couple of questions concerning props and costuming." Love, already love. "When Edwin dresses up in episode six, did you have any say in what he was wearing? Also, does he wear brown boots, instead of his usual black ones?" Yes! He does wear brown boots in episode six.

Did I "have any say in what he was wearing" um... I've actually just, funnily enough, spoken about this. The colour green was very important to me, um... and I shared that with Kelli [Dunsmore], our costume designer, and she very, very, you know, kindly... kindly's the wrong word, she had no obligation to even include it, you know, it's her vision, I should really just stay in my lane, but she found this gorgeous um green, I think it was like a merino wool, jumper and um she found green laces for the boots. I don't think they... I don't think you're able to see them in the show but that's... those small touches. You know, the devil really is in the detail and um that was, that was really, really cool.

Um, I'm tryna think if I tried on any others. I... I was... there was a chance I was going to wear a navy pinstripe suit as the hero costume, instead of the grey, but they didn't have enough copies at the time so we had to go with the grey. But I think the grey's best. Um... um, yeah.

"What motif does the Payne crest in his notebook show, and what inspired it?" Gosh, okay. I think there's a gryphon, or a lion... it's basically... I really thought it was important, or it felt accurate to me, that Edwin would have some kind of family sigil, you know. I imagined he'd have like a signet ring that he'd keep in the top drawer of his desk at the office. But he wouldn't wear the signet ring, because that would be... there's too many feelings about his family.

But there was something really interesting to me about him having his... the family crest, or the family sigil, embossed on the front of his notebook, and the idea that it would sit here, sit close to his heart, feels like an emotionally repressed boy's way of feeling, in some way, very sort of distantly connected to his family, and his parents. And I just, I thought there was something interesting there. It just... I pitched it... I was kind of a bit naughty, I actually pitched it straight to the head of props, Terry Weaver, and then Steve [Yockey] messaged like 'okay, hold on.' So I had to make a pitch. But they... they honoured it, so that was really cool. And again, like, Steve and Beth [Schwartz] and the team... everyone was so collaborative and that was so cool. That was so, so cool. Um.

"Who came up with the idea of the ironing board as a makeshift desk in episode two?" That probably would've been Tony [Wohlgemuth], our set designer. Or James [Willcock], our head of art/deco. It would've been... one of the two. But I agree, I think it's so cool, so genius. I love that opening shot in episode three where you see the ironing board. But this is the thing, it's like... the fun thing as an actor is we had no idea about any of that. We just walk onto set to rehearse and that's the first time we see it. And then we do a quick rehearsal, they set up, and then [clicks fingers] we start shooting. So it's so exciting for us, as the actors, when we walk on and see all this stuff. Sorry, I'm rambling. "Who picked the items that were put on it?" That would've been the art or set design departments.

"Finally, something unrelated to the show. I hope you received the drawing of Jenny's [whispers] wedding for Bri [Cuoco]. [Normal volume] According to the Royal Mail, it and some prints arrived at your agent's office about a week ago." Um, I actually chased this up. I have chased this up, and it's in transit to me, at my house. Rest assured, I will get it to Bri [whispers] for her wedding. [Normal volume] And I will put 'from'... I will tell her it's 'from all the Dead Boy fans', if that's the right thing to do. I mean, I'm sure it is. She's gonna absolutely love it, she's gonna be very moved by it. Um, I'll try and find a frame to put it in, as well, cause I think that would be really nice. Cause I know that will really mean a lot to her.

Okay, Anke, lots of love. Have a lovely week, look after yourself, and happy holidays. Bye!

Treated myself to another cameo, in which I enquire after Edwin’s dressed-up outfit, particularly the brown boots that are so difficult to see in the show – apparently, they have green laces to go with the green jumper (the attention to detail truly is amazing), the Payne crest on his notebook, and the ironing board as a makeshift desk. Also has some sleepy Raffy in the background.

[yooniesim]

ok unfortunately for yall the dash made me have a thought so now I gotta ramble lol

but ya know. maybe it's bc I've had so much time away from here and all the bitching (/affectionate) but over the past couple years, I get less angry about this shit and more solution-minded. and I don't mean for the community as a whole (that's impossible lol) but in a sort of... personal circle/responsibility type of way. like what we can do among ourselves without the confrontation aspect bc, just being honest- from my perspective & experience, the anger and the bitching doesn't really accomplish shit. not to say it ain't justified, & it's important to raise awareness for sure, but i swear me & a lot of others that have been talking about this for a long time have just been barking in circles without anything budging one way or another. which leads to burnout/emotional exhaustion not just for the ppl in question but for followers/mutuals/friends. I spent far too long and waaaay too much mental energy thinking that being the loudest and the boldest would get something to change. but the scammers keep scamming and the shit just keeps going. and sure it's fun as hell to shoot the shit and pick and bitch and laugh with your mutuals. baby yall know I love a good simblr circlejerk. but ya know, when you sit down and think about it it's a lil depressing. and the ppl you're talking to/around are already Aware and eventually the anger wears off and they're just tired of hearing about it. you're preaching to the choir and everyone is just pissed and tired with no clear goal to work towards.

Part of that exhaustion is why i made @alwaysfreecc as a positive way to boost always free creators, without focusing on the paywallers. as well as always supporting alternate ways of getting paywalled cc. but I think it takes a lil more than just that. I think, like the post I just reblogged was saying, people need to learn how to make their own content too. I know there's a learning curve, but so many things paywallers make are outright easy to do yourself. Some aren't- there are paywall creators that put great effort into their content and make it worth your money- but a lot of them are. And that isn't to say you should make everything yourself, there's nothing wrong with supporting creators that make content you find interesting or wouldn't want to do yourself, but it can be really rewarding to learn how to make simple edits and recolors on your own. And, image editing and 3d modeling skills can also benefit you elsewhere in life! Whether professionally or when modding other games. Knowing how to make cc in sims helped me figure out how to make certain things for skyrim and fallout, for example. Hell, it's just plain FUN to figure out and do, and I think the community could always use more of that.

Also, sometimes it's freeing to just, stop using certain creators' content. Like, i used to be bitching yet downloading stuff off dhm and shit, out of spite mostly cos half the stuff I didn't even like. But since I cleared out a lot of paywallers' stuff, besides a few I think are worth it/doing things honestly, it just feels better. I don't even think about those mfs anymore until I see something about them on my dash and then I can barely remember who they are lol. You don't realize how much you really don't NEED any of that shit & how you were kinda just downloading it to be downloading it, until you toss it. AND it feels great to have mostly always free creators' content & support them. Liiike i feel proud of ppl i saw get started and are STILL FREE and making awesome stuff, it's exciting! even when I'm not playing the game, I see their posts and be like "dang I need to grab that when I update" or "man they've gotten so much better in so little time" or "wow I never thought of that idea/seen that before". Bc always free peeps get to be so damn creative bc they don't have deadlines or turning off their paying audience to worry about. Like it's so cool and positive and I love that.

idk, just. based on what I've experienced here, i feel like it's kinda time to focus less on what the assholes are doing now (aka the same exact thing they've been doing for years) and more on what to do to make our own personal experiences better. which I know a lot of us are doing! I just wish I personally had done it earlier lol so maybe someone else needs to hear that too. like toss these dummies to the curb and replace them is what I'm sayin. If not in the whole community but just your personal circle. raise awareness as needed sure but don't let em take any more of your energy. cos if you are petty like me (😂) it'll hurt em way more to cast em out than yell at em. all the ppl that have bitched at me yet still have my cc in their folders come to mind lmfao, cos personally that gives me more satisfaction than anything else so I know it's probably the same for the scammers! Like a "you hate me but you can't bear to not use my shit huh 😏" type of deal. Don't give em that sick pleasure! (/projecting) Just focus on you and yours and make some sick ass content for yourself, then share it to me thx 💅

[atsro-slut]

Hiiii, how's your holidays going? Hopefully you're enjoying them! 🫶 I'd like to ask for Remus x fem!reader, a little mistletoe prompt cause I'm a sucker for those 🤭 But maybe reader has a crush on Remus but thinking that he only sees her as a friend, she doesn't wanna do the mistletoe tradition since she's afraid it'll make him uncomfortable and ruin their friendship? I'd die for that, thank you!! ❤️

Under the Mistletoe

OMG I love this!!!!! Im a sucker for a cutesy little holiday story! I hope you enjoy!!!!!!!!!!

Remus Lupin x female!reader

Y/N has a crush on Remus Lupin and fears the mistletoe at the Christmas party will ruin their friendship. When they end up under it, she must decide whether to take a chance or stay safe.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

The Christmas party at Hogwarts was in full swing. The Great Hall was decorated in gold and red, with sparkling fairy lights hanging from every corner, casting a warm, cozy glow over the room. Snowflakes gently fell outside the tall windows, and the scent of pine and cinnamon filled the air as students and professors alike gathered to celebrate the holiday season.

Y/N stood near the punch bowl, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of her sweater as she watched the party unfold. She had never been particularly comfortable in large social gatherings, but tonight was different. Tonight, there was a presence at the party that made her stomach flutter in ways she didn’t quite understand. That presence was none other than Remus Lupin.

She had been friends with Remus for years, ever since their first year at Hogwarts. They had bonded over their shared love of books, their quiet nature, and their mutual understanding of what it felt like to be an outsider. Over the years, their friendship had grown stronger, and it wasn’t hard to see why—Remus was kind, thoughtful, and endlessly patient. He had a calmness to him that made her feel safe, a rare gift that only someone truly special possessed.

And yet, there was something more. Something that had been growing inside Y/N for months, something she couldn’t quite name. She was falling for him. Hard.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to confess her feelings, but Y/N had always been terrified of ruining their friendship. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if it made things awkward between them? They had shared so many moments over the years—laughing together in the library, sharing late-night talks about their hopes and dreams, supporting each other through difficult times—but Y/N was afraid that the fragile thread of their friendship could break if she were to tell him how she felt.

And so, she had kept her feelings to herself. At least for now.

“Y/N! Over here!”

The sudden call of her name pulled Y/N from her thoughts, and she turned to see her friend Lily waving her over from the other side of the room. With a small sigh, Y/N walked over, offering a smile as she joined her friend.

“You look stunning!” Lily exclaimed, her green eyes sparkling with excitement. “I can’t believe we’re finally here! A Christmas party at Hogwarts—this is so much fun.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “You look great too, Lily.”

Lily, of course, was glowing. She always did. With her bright red hair, radiant smile, and infectious energy, she could light up any room she entered. But Y/N’s eyes couldn’t help but drift to a figure standing by the fireplace—Remus. He was talking to James and Sirius, his warm brown eyes sparkling with laughter, but as usual, there was a quiet shyness about him that made Y/N’s heart ache. He was so perfect, so gentle, and yet completely unaware of how deeply she had fallen for him.

"Are you going to talk to him?" Lily asked, raising an eyebrow with a knowing smile.

Y/N's face flushed a deep shade of red. "What do you mean?"

Lily smirked. "You know exactly what I mean. Remus. You’ve been looking at him all night."

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she quickly averted her gaze, her hands suddenly feeling clammy. "I’m just... admiring the decorations," she stammered, trying to play it off.

Lily raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. "Sure, sure. Well, you know what they say, right? Under the mistletoe, anything can happen."

Y/N froze. She had completely forgotten about the mistletoe tradition at the party. Hogwarts was known for hanging mistletoe in the most random places, and it was often used as an excuse for students to steal a kiss from their crush. But Y/N wasn’t ready for that. Not with Remus. Not when she was certain that he only saw her as a friend.

“I don’t think I’ll worry about the mistletoe tonight,” Y/N replied, her voice tight. "Besides, it’s just a silly tradition.”

Lily didn’t seem convinced, but she shrugged. “If you say so. But if you change your mind…”

Before Y/N could reply, Lily’s eyes brightened as she spotted someone across the room. "Oh, James is looking for me. I’ll catch you later!"

With a final wink, Lily disappeared into the crowd, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts. The nervous flutter in her chest returned, stronger than before. She needed to find a way to enjoy the party without letting her emotions get the best of her. If only she could stop thinking about Remus and how perfect he was, how much she wanted to be near him, to be more than just friends.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

The night passed in a blur. Y/N tried to keep herself distracted, chatting with friends, nibbling on cookies, and participating in a few games. But despite her efforts, her gaze kept drifting back to Remus. He was always so gentle with others, his laugh like music to her ears, his thoughtful demeanor something she couldn’t help but admire. But there was always that nagging voice in her head reminding her that he probably didn’t feel the same way.

“Y/N!”

Y/N turned, startled, and found herself face-to-face with Remus, who was smiling warmly at her. “Oh, hey, Remus.”

“Hey,” he replied, his voice soft and comforting. “I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk? The snow’s really coming down, and I thought it might be nice to get some fresh air.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. It was just a walk. Nothing more, nothing less. But the idea of spending time alone with him, especially now, when her feelings for him were so overwhelming, made her nervous. Still, she couldn’t say no. Not to him.

“I’d love that,” she said, forcing a smile as she pushed down the wave of anxiety in her chest. “Let’s go.”

They stepped outside into the crisp winter air, the snowflakes swirling around them as they walked side by side. The sound of their footsteps crunching in the snow was the only noise between them, and Y/N tried to focus on the peacefulness of the moment, trying to calm her racing heart.

They wandered along the edge of the castle, the quiet stillness of the night allowing them to talk freely. They discussed everything from classes to their favorite Christmas traditions, with Remus listening attentively, his gentle smile never leaving his face.

At one point, Remus stopped, looking up at the sky. “The stars look incredible tonight,” he said softly. “I’ve always loved the way the snow makes everything seem quieter. Like the world’s holding its breath.”

Y/N smiled, gazing up at the sky as well. “It’s beautiful,” she agreed, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "I’m glad you asked me to come outside. It’s nice to get away from the party for a bit."

They stood in comfortable silence for a few moments, simply enjoying the serenity of the snowy night. Y/N was lost in the beauty of the moment, but then, as if on cue, she heard the telltale sound of someone calling her name from across the courtyard.

“Y/N! Remus!”

Y/N turned to see Lily and James standing by the entrance to the castle, both grinning mischievously. “There you are!” Lily called. “We’ve been looking for you two.”

Before Y/N could respond, James waved his hand toward them. “Come on, you’re not escaping that easily.”

“Escape?” Y/N echoed, her heart sinking in her chest. What was James talking about?

Then, she saw it.

Hanging above the stone archway that led into the courtyard was a sprig of mistletoe, clearly placed for the exact purpose she had been trying to avoid all evening. Her heart rate picked up, and she felt a familiar rush of panic flood her chest.

“Oh, no,” Y/N muttered under her breath. “Not the mistletoe.”

She could already feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. If they were standing there long enough, someone would undoubtedly make a joke, and the whole night would be ruined. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out a way out of the situation. She could pretend she hadn’t seen the mistletoe, make some excuse, but no matter what, the idea of standing under it with Remus made her stomach twist with fear.

Remus, however, hadn’t noticed her discomfort. Instead, he chuckled softly, his gaze shifting from the mistletoe to Y/N’s nervous expression.

“It’s just a tradition, right?” he said, giving her a warm smile. “Nothing to be nervous about.”

Y/N froze. She swallowed hard. “Yeah, but…” Her voice faltered, unsure how to explain. “I don’t want to make things weird, you know? We’re friends, Remus. And if we… if we did the whole mistletoe thing, I just—” She stopped herself, realizing she was rambling.

Remus looked at her thoughtfully, his smile fading just a little. “Y/N,” he said gently, stepping closer. “I promise, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Y/N’s heart hammered in her chest. Could she do this? Could she let go of her fear and take the step she had been wanting to take for so long?

Without thinking, she found herself looking into Remus’s eyes, seeing the kindness and warmth there. There was no judgment, no discomfort—just Remus, as he always was.

And maybe, just maybe, she could be brave enough to take the chance.

[0honeybones0]

(Here she is in a very... not so much a hard try in the games style, i'm sorry but the cell shading is against my very own soul)

"It's so nice to be a cheerleader again! Now who wants to be throw up by me?"

Event by @cheerleaderman

Set to home screen: “Wanna join us?” 

1.“ ´Who do you think will win?´ I don't really care to be honest”

“Ace! Deuce! Did you guys stretch before trying to do that trick? No? Yeah, i can see that… hold on I’m gonna get the aid kit”

“I used to belong to the cheerleaders squad in high school, the coach told me my arms have material for muscle and well i was the one throwing people up!

“Everyone is so excited to participated, but please remember to stretch before doing anything doesn't really matter how simple can be” 

Home after login: “i finally convince Idia to stretch, his bones pop inside him, it was pleasant to hear how they arrange themself,  popping bubble wrap… What? Why are you looking at me weird?”

Home, Groovification: LOCKED

Tap 1: “I’m ready and hot to go! Wish us good luck!” 

Tap 2:  “Ahhh… Grim drank all my water, ah~... it’s okay”

tap 3:  “I may be a little bit rusty but I can still do some tricks, wanna help me? I promise to catch you by any means necessary ” 

Tap 4: “You want to do a pyramid?   oh well… i dont think we have the experience to do so…”

Tap 5 “Let’s not get too deep in this rivalry, this is for fun at the end… and no one is hearing me… as always” 

clothes design:

Idia: I don’t feel so good Rebecca

[heeambi]

Hii can you write 6 + taesan Thank you!!

Of course, I hope you enjoy this drabble... It's my first time writing for Taesan!

Y/n was standing near the back of the venue. Waiting for the concert to start, she suddenly spotted someone in the crowd who looked a lot like Taesan. Without thinking, she pushed her way through the crowd to reach the guy and tap them on the shoulder. As she drew closer, she could see the details of their faces more clearly now. They were tall and lean, with styled hair, but something was definitely off. She could feel her excitement mounting as she got closer, and by the time she reached the guy, she is sure that it is taesan. Without hesitation, she went to tap the guy on the shoulder. “Hey, tae-” she started to say, before the guy turned around and realized her mistake.

The guy was indeed not her boyfriend but Sunghoon. He looked at her with an puzzled expression, clearly not who she was looking for. “Uh, can I help you?” he asked, his voice laced with concussion. She is mortified, realizing her huge faux pas. She started to stutter for a moment before managing to actually blurt out an apology. “I-i’m so sorry, I mistook you for someone else.. I think I may have had one too many drinks.” her cheeks began to flush with embarrassment, and she mentally cursed herself for her stupidity. Sunghoon only chuckled softly, bemused by the whole situation. “Ah, No worries, it happens. But I'm definitely not Taesan, I can assure you of that.”

She managed a shaky smile, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the mix-up. “Yeah, I see that now…” She glanced around awkwardly, feeling so out of place, before she looked back at Sunghoon. “Uh, sorry again.. I hope I didn't ruin your night..”

As y/n and Sunghoon both talked, Taesan happened to glance over and see them in a deep conversation with some guy he doesn't recognize. He js immediately intrigued, and his eyes narrowed as he watched the odd interaction. He then approached them, couros to see what was actually going on. He got closer, he could hear snippets of the conversation. He saw the way y/n was talking to the other guy, her body language indicating she might've been slightly intoxicated. Taesan frowned, not liking the idea of some random guy chatting her up drunkenly. He finally reached them, clearing his throat to announce his presence. She turned her head towards the sound, and her eyes slightly widened when she saw who it was. “A-ah! T-taesan..” she stuttered, her face flushed red.

He first looked towards Sunghoon, sizing him up, then switched his gaze straight to y/n. Taesan noticed her disheveled appearance and the glassy look in her eyes. “You having fun already?” he asked, his time was a mix of mild annoyance and concern. She squirmed under his intense gaze, feeling guilty for being caught in this compromising situation. “Oh… yeah, I guess so.. Just had a little too much to drink, that's all..” she said, trying to sound at least nonchalant, but her voice ended up betraying her. Taesan crossed his arms over his chest, arching an brow as he continued to stare at her. He then turned to Sunghoon, his expression hard. “You're not taking advantage of her, are you?”

Sunghoon held his hands up in a defense gesture, his eyes widened bigger at the implication. “What? No, not at all,” he said, as if he was offended. “We were just talking, that's all. She accidentally mistook me for you.” Taesan’s expression softened slightly, but he still looked kinda skeptical. He turned his gaze back to y/n, his gaze lingering on her. “This true?” he asked, his voice a bit quieter now. She nodded her head quickly, fidgeting nervously under his intense glare. “Mhm, I thought he was you... Sorry,” she mumbled, looking straight down to her feet. He was silent for a moment, studying her expression. He could see how embarrassed she actually was, and his irritation melted away, replaced by concern. “You need to be more careful when you're drunk, y/n.” he scolded her gently.

She nodded her head again, looking at him sheepishly. “I know, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to cause any trouble,” she said, her voice small. Taesan’s stern expression softened even further, and he sighed, looking between her and Sunghoon. “It's alright,” he eventually said, his voice less harsh than before. “Do not go off talking to random guys when you're drunk, alright? For your own safety.”

Click here to see the rest of my event collection list !

[martian-astro10]

I'm a psychology student and this year we are starting to talk to professionals since the internship period is getting closer, Clinical, counselling, IO, School, Sports, Forensic psychologists, are all MISERABLE. Talking to them is so heart breaking, cuz they are all like: if we had the option to go back, we would never choose to do this. Today I visited some neuropsychologists, so fucking happy, literally talked to 10 of them and they were all like, "oh, it's stressful but we are still happy, It's so fun, it's absolutely wonderful, there is so much freedom. You can work in a hospital, in legal fields, do research" and now..................I am fucking confused. In my mind, I was so sure that IO will be the one for me, but It was fucking boring, making useless graphs and presentations.....it was so bad, eewww, not doing that. Now I wanna do Neuro but then........so confusing. I feel like, I just don't wanna regret my choices, yk. That fear is so strong that it's leading to this hesitation, like, what if it does not work out? what If I don't enjoy it? WHY IS CHOOSING A CAREER SOOO HAAARD???

Also, Neuropsychologists are so kind, like, you could see the passion in their eyes. They did not sugar coat anything but also didn't fear monger, the conversation was so practical. Every field requires hard work but the hard work doesn't feel hard when the work is something that you actually enjoy doing and that is exactly what I felt when I talked to them, they were busy, but they were also happy. They looked so excited to show us what they do in a day, their eyes were...gleaming. The others were so annoyed, rude and agitated, you could see how they hated coming to the hospital everyday.

[valleymyristica]

Going back and reading through all those chapters are making me more excited for what is to come. Reading them all in succession is really making me see Peri's descent into madness manifest itself. I am itching to see what you have in store for the second part of What it Takes. Is he going to start breaking some rules? I am dying to know. I'm so looking forward to seeing the yandere's madness really consume him. Is he going to be the cause of Dale's demise?

Hihihi Yay! Oh, that makes me so happy to hear you say!

Knowing you reread it and always look forward to what's to come And, Oh, is there is a lot of fun to come

He's just trying his best, you know?

Breaking Rules? Oh, what are you talking about Peri would never, he's no rule breaker He's doing his best!

Making Dev happy That's what he's doing Always doing Just, making Dev happy Don't worry about it hehehehe

Oh, Dale's demise Such a long wait it shall be But one day, he'll fall And it is sure to effect Peri Oh, I wonder how Dev would feel I wonder how Peri would feel All so much fun All so much dread All so much Let's hope it doesn't- We'll at least you got your head I sure do hope you guys will like the body-swap episode

[random-non-shower-thoughts]

I'm sick of writers constantly complaining about how hard writing is and how they have to suffer for the craft and how you need to struggle to make it good. I find it so annoying

You are not being quirky or funny to beginning authors and writers, all you are doing is telling them that if they didn't bleed their soul on to the page it's shit and they should feel like shit. I fucking listened to this kind of mindset for years and spewed it to those around me. I was pretentious and told others this mindset was the only one and did nothing because I knew my writing was obviously a joke and not worth reading. Because that's what everyone else said. I didn't bleed, I was having fun. You had to crawl through hell and burn the first draft to spit on the ashes. I wasn't ready to publish because I was enjoying walking my little book babies across the page and doing what they wanted. The little characters knew what they wanted, so I had to rewrite and wrangle them in later. The couldn't just run around like the little ones they were.

And I was right, I wasn't ready. Not because of them, but because I kept swallowing the same slop about how writing is hard and that a first draft had to be shit. I rewrote my first baby and it suffered. I tried to fix it like all the others said, and killed that entire series. Four books, hundreds of thousands of words. DEAD. I will likely never touch them despite all I did to tell a compelling story with characters that were fun, interesting, and well-researched to represent multiple groups. I cannot get that spark back because I was convinced it was wrong. I never tasted enough bile by the nice first draft that was good enough for myself. RIGHT NOW. IT WAS ONLY WHAT I COULD DO NOW.

I legit gave up on ever publishing anything and convinced myself to just make it shit so maybe I could crawl out of the mud and build from scratch. It's what my professor did, and she was years into a book she still wasn't happy with. She insisted she knew the way to publish and we should do the same. How she struggles with typing and making notes for the next draft, how the next one would be better after a rewrite. I had to do the same. It was the only way...

I am so thankful that I did some research after that and found myself falling down a rabbit hole. I wasn't really ready to fully accept the mantra from my professor. Her words never sat right with me, and those who listened without question were quite frankly, too snobbish about white men making badly written black women and all showing zero energy around first drafts--good or bad. I had to get a new perspective. The itch to see more called me to find answers. I was off put by the way they worked like it was an obligation, not art.

And I found it with a group of authors far older and more experienced than myself in a writing blog. Not just the creator held a set of different beliefs and the entire community was excited to share entire books worth of advice for free online, including the author posting (physical copies cost money, but despite running a business, the information was so freely given). And I think the three most important pieces of advice I ever got from them and changed my life were:

Quality will always equal quality. There's is almost no other art form that I have seen talk less about this mindset. Compared to say, drawing, where they go in opposite direction and it's one of the most encouraged aspects of it. I do not see this as much in writing, unless you are boasting bad/shit drafts. This is not what this advice is talking about. This was explained to mean everything from first draft to publishing, the entire process. To go all the way with works put out there that might not be what you first imagined but can say was done. Get that stroy done and put out there so you can move on and learn from previous mistakes and lessons.

You can write a clean first draft. I mean this, throw away the idea what you have done in a moment of happiness or in a frenzy is inherently bad or flawed or needs to be scrapped for the second draft because you obviously need to fix it. It was pointed out that this was a new idea and absolutely a bad thing when you had limited resources and time (pulp fiction, times when you had to make your own supplies, you were not allowed access to better technology). Now that we have electronic word processers, it is now a thing to shit on a first draft because you technically can. But why? Why should you have to throw out your level of quality and care because you are putting your first words to the page. It will never be as good as what you write tomorrow, but that's because you have learned and practiced today. And if you start with shit, your entire foundation is. Show you care about what you write, and much like a house, if what you use for the base is good, the entire thing will have a better leg to stand on. Bricks can be replaced, the swamp you placed them on is going to be much harder.

Do not listen to the inner critic until the editing phase. You know that voice telling you something is off when you are using an editor? The one that sounds like a serious adult and points out all that needs fixing? It has its place, but never on the first draft. Embrace the three year old that is playing with the blocks and says why to everything, that embraces the absolute batshit ideas that whisper to you like a infatuated lover. This is all you should listen too (outlines can be a great guide, but who says you have to follow everything?) Treat the true muse, this fun writing voice, no different than a caregiver would with a child/pet playing at the park, and let it run wild. You can patch up bruises and cuts. You cannot take back telling them NO in a fit of anger. The muse is no different.

And honestly, after reading this, my life changed so much. It made me realize that while I am not where I want to be, I loved what I created in the meantime. I wanted to hold the hands of ideas pulling my sleeve. I wanted to go on an adventure and say, "Yeah, let's go! What should we see today? What monster is waiting for us to discover?"

I literally felt a joy and wrote again. Not right away (depression is a loving embrace and the softest of kissers) but I had not felt such love for myself since before I gave up. I found a character I had not let get tainted my poisoned mind and I treated them like they deserved (and realized some things about myself exploring their minds). Such a love was waiting to be found when I learned they wanted something bigger and pulled me into a new bigger world. I didn't need a novel writing month event to create more than 50k. I didn't care, I wanted them to find their loves and pain, victory and lessons learned. They helped me explore viewpoints outside myself (and throw away some hateful things I harbored about trans women and prostitution from my upbringing).

I bled for sure, but only because I needed to develop the callouses on my fingertips and to lick the blood from my lips as I embraced my muse like a irresistible lover. I found myself in the character I birthed from stardust and an elder god's love of the universe. I learned that if I did this again it would be different, but that's okay. I can go back and read my old works with pride and kind words. I loved what helped me reach this far with a smile and something fun I wanted to read.

I found that if I took a month or a day to pound out a chapter, I was okay. I could sit back and know dealing a closet death and pain was fine, I had something to look forward to when the waters calmed and I was going to be okay again. My muse didn't need me to poke and prod, I could let them slumber with me while my flesh was aching and tears stained my face. I could smoke and drink with my characters and they would be happy to laugh at all the stupid and silly things we can think of. I don't need to suffer when the world is so cold and harsh. It is okay to embrace the warmth of a fire I created in myself.

[polyhexian]

Petrification AU - The more I think about it the more I realize you can get so much secret cruelty mileage out of Belos keeping Jasper's statue around. Like:

Belos spending a lot of time with little Hunter in the garden, sitting on a bench right by the statue telling his nephew alllllll about how they're the only family they have. How he rescued baby Hunter from his dead mother's arms.

Belos playing some kind of game with Hunter that involves throwing tomatoes or paint balls or something at Jasper's statue.

Belos simultaneously negging Hunter and building up his excitement about becoming the Golden Guard right in front of Jasper.

Belos losing control of his curse or punishing or otherwise hurting Hunter in front of the statue. Or criticizing him and telling Hunter all the ways he sucks right in front of his dad.

Belos deciding that Hunter messed up so badly this time he isn't gonna get locked up his room, nah, you don't deserve to be indoors, you can sleep outside in the garden tonight. (Assuming this is like a private courtyard garden that only the two of them can really access.)

Belos talking at Jasper's statue like an IT guy with a rubber duck. Hey, I'm brainstorming more ways to make your kid's life hell, get a load of this mission I'm thinking of sending him on. But how can I make it HARDER? Hmmmm…ooh, wait, here's an idea!

Belos wondering if maybe he's a litttttttle too obsessed with this particular Grimwalker's corpse, it's the first time he's kept one of them around and the only other corpse he's been this focused on is his brother's, does Jasper really deserve this kind of attention? Sure, it's funny, but maybe it's TOO much fun for a Puritan? Is mocking Jasper distracting him from the important things in life, like plotting bureaucratical genocide? Jasper isn't even there to feel the mockery, and Hunter isn't even aware of what he's doing, maybe he should remove the statue and… Nah, who is he kidding? This is GREAT. At the very least it keeps giving him good reason to go outside and get some fresh air!

This lunatic is always TALKIN, he's missing to himself or to the collector or his dead brother or this stupid statue corpse of one of his victims. He just can't help himself. Bet he takes a LOT of sick pleasure in talking to jasper the way he cant justify with Caleb. He can't admit to himself how much he hates him. He has to keep up the delusion that he wishes he could have saved him or it means admitting it was a selfish act, killing him. I like to imagine also that he has a kind of persistent delusion that if he can finally make a Grimwalker that doesn't betray him, one that isn't a sinner, it can save calebs soil by bringing it back to the human realm to die there. Sacrificial lamb and all. But like always, he's willfully ignorant because it allows him to keep seeing himself as a hero and saviour. The same way he tells the collector that no, he doesn't make those things just to destroy them, it always hurts him when they betray him. But he's s.ing when he says it. He's lying, but he's pretending he doesn't know that, even to himself.

JASPER though. He can lay INTO jasper. Jasper turned on him! He can be as cruel as he wants because jasper DESERVES it. Obviously. He has to pretend he likes Hunter, but he doesn't have to pretend shit with jasper. He can stand out there as long as he wants and play his little games to try and make this dead man suffer just a little more.

Hunter is going to have the MOST fun revelations about THAT in hindsight. Imagine little hunter sleeping outside and it's cold and damp and he's hungry and he's talking to the old golden guard statue about how he's gonna be the best golden guard someday, and get his own statue!