#No-Li Brewery

[blarson77]

Stopped at one of my favorite breweries as my friends were headed bck to Montana. Quite the large place w/plenty to drink and a nice menu.

[waynes-multiverse]

The Exit Strategy – Part 1

Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there's one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, mystery, a tinge of angst, humor & brotherly banter, one tiny surprise 🤓

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: Happy holidays, guys! Enjoy 🎄❤️

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 1: This Is Not a Pipe

The heavy truck door slammed shut behind him as Russell slid into the passenger seat with an exhaustive sigh. Colter’s big pickup was parked right next to his beautiful Chevelle in that same old motel parking lot in Virginia.

Russell hadn’t moved – yet. Well, sort of. He’d been away on assignment in some frosty region for a couple of weeks. He wasn’t allowed to say where exactly he’d been, and he knew better than to put it into writing, so let’s just agree he was at the North Pole looking for Santa Claus.

He could’ve ended up anywhere he wanted once he touched ground in the States again, but a very appreciated phone call from a former colleague made the decision for him. Besides, Russell knew this particular motel well. The coffee was more than decent and got the job done, the owner and employees were nice, comforting, and, most of all, trustworthy, and there were always fresh towels.

“Extra fluffy for you, Mr. Russell,” Rosa, the maid, would say every morning with the brightest smile.

Oh, and they had a hot tub in the back…

“Thanks for coming, man,” Russell extended his greeting without glancing at his younger brother once. He could feel Colter’s scrutinizing eyes on him, though, drilling for answers. Granted, his request had been rather unusual, so Russell understood where his younger brother’s ever-frozen furrowed brow stemmed from.

Providing answers didn’t come easy for the older Shaw, however. In fact, it had always been sort of a problem for him – even in the past. Especially in the past. Russell never lied, but he did omit things. Important things. On purpose.

“Yeah, uh, sure,” Colter replied with a polite smile as he started the car and rolled out of the lot.

Ah, yes, politeness…

That was what they were at, although it was progressively improving. It was only the third time the brothers were seeing each other since they had reconnected. And while the last two encounters had given the Shaws some well-needed time to talk things out and build trust, Colter was still naturally wary of his estranged sibling. As was Russell.

“So, what’s this about? You were pretty vague on the phone. You in trouble?”

That finally caught Russell’s full attention. He quickly shook his head, causing his hair to fall into his face. “What? No! No… No trouble,” he swiftly assuaged his brother with a dismissive hand gesture and a lighthearted chuckle. “Just need your help tracking down an old friend of mine, is all.”

Colter quirked an eyebrow at that. “Another Army buddy of yours?”

“Uh, something like that, yeah,” Russell replied rather mysteriously and didn’t even try to conceal the fact that he was hiding something more behind his ambiguous answer. But Colter only intensified his stare at him and wouldn’t let go that easily. Russell knew that. After all, they were related.

Persistence was a Shaw family trait. Another survival skill, if you will.

But this time, Russell wasn’t hiding a big government secret (or maybe he was). No lives depended on this particular mission (or so he thought). He wasn’t protecting a client, a company, or even his dubious employer (but someone else). He wasn’t choked by an NDA or about to save someone in grave danger (as far as he knew).

No, if anything, it was the fact that Russell didn’t know how much he could or should share with his brother. They were related, yes. But, technically, they hadn’t seen each other in decades, so they weren’t just considered merely estranged but strangers. Russell had always been aware of that fact, and Colter was beginning to catch on.

Especially during this mission.

See, once upon a time, the two hadn’t been just brothers. After moving to the cabin, societal contacts became scarce for the siblings. All they had was them. They were friends. Best friends. Always competitive, but friends nonetheless.

How much did they really know about each other now, though? How much of the old was still there?

“So, who are we looking for? What’s the guy’s name?” Colter asked, suddenly eager as he jumped into gear. He had always been restless, even as a kid, which fondly reminded Russell of their childhood.

But how much was he still the Russell that Colter once knew?

Well, Russell, on the other hand, remained calm and ruffled a casual hand through his beard. “Well, she’s, uh–”

Eyebrow cocked, Colter snapped his head to the passenger seat where his brother started to squirm. “Oh… Oh, so it’s a she,” he emphasized with a small grin. “Now I think I get it.”

There it is. I knew it, Russell thought with an internal sigh. In order for this mission to work, he knew he had to reveal some things. Private things. Things about himself and his life. Going in, Russell knew he couldn’t ask Colter for help without giving him something.

Their father had loved tests (and so did you – but that’s another story…). Russell always thought it had been the professor in him. So, Russell saw this as a test as well.

Could he trust Colter? And more pressingly, considering some long held accusations of murder, did Colter trust him?

A clear of Russell’s throat cut right through Colter’s chuckle. And then, the eldest tried his best to give no reaction at all. “Yes, she’s a… woman, but hold your horses. It’s not what you think, okay?” Colter lifted his eyebrow once more, causing Russell to heave another exhaustive sigh. “Fine, alright? It’s exactly what you think.”

Well, close enough, Russell thought. He knew Colter couldn’t even possibly imagine the reality in his wildest dreams.

Usually, Russell was an expert in avoiding uncomfortable questions. He was a pro at ditching answers and keeping secrets, even under torture and duress. However, there was just something entirely unique about dodging questions posed by little brothers.

And Russell saw it as a perfect bonding opportunity. He wanted to fill the chasm between them that their father’s death had caused – once and for all. But he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t walking around on eggshells most of the time – something that reminded him of you again.

Learning from past mistakes, Russell wanted Colter to experience the fun side of him. The one that brewed his own beer, cared too much about his car, and had weird tastes in food. He chose to leave out the rest – the dark stuff and the very best stuff, too.

After all, Russell was good at omitting things.

Colter chuckled triumphantly. “Does this mean you’re finally giving up on Reenie?”

Amused, Russell let out a snort. “Ha! You wish… First things first, alright? Let’s just see how this thing pans out. It’s kind of a long shot. You know that exit plan I told you about?”

“Yeah, you wanna open your own brewery, right?”

“Yeah, well, let’s just say in an ideal world this, uh, woman would be part of that exit,” Russell said and sounded purposely casual as if he didn’t care the mission was successful or not in the end, omitting yet another thing – he did care.

He cared a fucking lot.

“Really? Okay.” Colter scratched his jaw and gave his words some thought. Then he offered a small, yet kind, smile. Honestly, Russell didn’t know what he had expected. “But, you know, if you want me to find the future Mrs. Shaw, I’m gonna need more information to go on. A name, last address, or a-, uh, a picture, maybe?”

“Well, name’s not gonna help you much in this case.” Your first name might’ve been shareable intel, but your last name was of the highest classification. “Her last address that I know of was in Berlin. And while I do have one photo of her, it’s not meant for your eyes, brother,” Russell said with a firmly territorial look that still carried a mischievous twinkle, revealing the exact nature of the photograph to be indeed inappropriate.

Russell had one naughty photo, yes. But he had a whole giant box of others, too.

Colter’s eyebrows met above his nose as he licked his lips. Customarily, people gave him more details when they needed him to find someone. But then again, those people usually weren’t his brother. “Do you know anything about this woman? How long have you two dated?”

“Uhm… not that long,” Russell supplied with a clear of his throat before mumbling the rest of his answer, hoping his beard would swallow most of his words. “Ten years. Give or take…”

What is time anyway if nothing but a concept, right?

Colter blinked at him and almost steered the vehicle off-road before gripping the wheel a little tighter. “I’m sorry… Did you just say ten years?”

“Well, might be more like twelve,” he admitted finally. “Well, anyways, saw her last three years ago.”

“Wow, okay, uhm…” Colter became quiet for a moment, speechless probably, the tiny bits of information running on a loop through his mind. He figured his brother still had lived a life while they hadn’t been speaking. Of course he had. He just never thought about what that life might have entailed, aside from classified military operations. “So, you’ve dated a woman for twelve years…”

“Fourteen.”

“…haven’t seen her in three, and know basically nothing about her?”

Russell snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I know. Ridiculous… Not even sure the name she did give me was her real one,” he said. It was a joke. He did know the name. He knew everything there was to know about you. So, maybe he did lie – sometimes. “But it’s the job, you know? It’s-, uh, it’s complicated.”

That part was true. Truer than he could ever possibly describe in words.

“I guess so…” Colter sighed, and Russell could hear the growing frustration. “So, she does what you do?”

Russell nodded. “In a way, yeah…” And Colter knew what that answer meant – he couldn’t say more. Again. “But don’t worry. We won’t have to turn over every stone on the face of this planet. I have a general idea of where she lives these days,” Russell provided. “One of my, uh, associates was working a job with her not that long ago. That’s how I found out she’s back in the States.”

Colter nodded in acceptance, knowing it was no use to try and prod more answers out of his brother. “Alright. Guess that’s something. So, where are we headed to?”

Russell then flashed him a grin with newfound determination sparkling in his green eyes. “Falls Church.”

The short drive had remained quiet for the most part. Colter refrained from asking more questions, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get straight answers out of his older brother in one form or the other. To accentuate Colter’s assumption of receiving non-answers, Russell mostly stared out the window with an intensity that had Colter believe his brother was counting trees when, in fact, Russell was pondering what he would, could, or should tell Colter.

Of course, Colter could also always ask more questions about their elusive father, but he didn’t do that either. Sure, one could say he was curious. More than that even.

What did Russell really know about his death? Their mother? Their family? Their work?

Another time, he kept telling himself throughout whenever he stole glances at his long-lost sibling. It was too soon. What was the point when Russell was so clearly reluctant to share anything at all?

Thus, there was nothing left but silence among peaceful woods and dense foliage till Colter pulled his truck over curbside in the idyllic town center of Falls Church.

Patiently, he waited a moment for Russell to open the floor and tell them their next logical steps. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, blew raspberries, clicked his tongue, and waited and waited and waited…

Nothing.

If Colter didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought someone carved a lifeless wax statue out of his brother and planted it on his passenger seat. Russell’s entire body stood motionless, only a set of green eyes flickered alive every once in a while and swayed out the windshield in search of something – or someone.

“So, what’s the plan here?” Colter asked with a clear of his throat. “You just wanna stay here and wait till she accidentally runs across the street?” It was meant as a joke, but to Colter’s dismay, Russell remained dead serious.

“That’s exactly what we’re doing,” the older Shaw confirmed and squinted his eyes at the busy street. Again, he had omitted a few things. In his mind, Colter didn’t need to know why Russell knew to be in front of the post office at exactly 15:03 (UTC–4) on a Tuesday.

Colter snorted a laugh. “What? C’mon, that can’t be the plan… Do you know how many people live in Falls Church? Or in the general Washington metropolitan area? We could be here for days. Weeks even…” The younger Shaw then switched fully into work mode, grabbing his phone from the Bluetooth car mount. “We’re never gonna find her like this. You got a phone number, maybe?” But before Russell could answer, Colter replied himself, shaking his head at his own silliness. “What am I even asking? Of course you don’t.”

Russell only smirked at that. Restless, he thought again.

“What about an old one? Maybe even that would help. I could call Bobby, Reenie… You got anything? Nothing?” But the younger Shaw’s questions apparently stumbled upon deaf ears. “Russell? Russ? Are you even listening to me? I’m trying to help you here. You could at least–”

“Found her!”

Russell almost jumped out of the car as his voice rang with sheer excitement. His heart was beating a mile a minute when his emerald eyes landed on the target. It felt like the very first time all over again.

Granted, the first meeting didn’t go so smoothly – there had definitely been some bumps (all on his part). Then again, he expected this next meeting to go a little roughly too (again, all on him).

“Wait, what?!”

Russell downright beamed. “Told you this would work.”

Colter only scoffed under his breath, the familiar competitiveness crawling back to the surface. “Yeah, well, beginner’s luck, okay?”

One boot had nearly touched asphalt before Russell remembered this wasn’t a situation that required him to storm in guns a-blazing – not even covert. Gentle hands, he reminded himself and swiftly closed the car door again, falling back into his seat. His lungs deflated.

Colter, on the other hand, was more confused than ever. “What-, uh, what are you doing?” Half-amused, his brow furrowed a bit more. “If you’ve found her, go talk to her. Where is she? Who is it?”

Curiosity could only be contained for so long. Colter wanted to know who had been a part of his brother’s life for almost as long as he had. He felt this was a key piece of information that would cause the first domino to fall. And then, revelation after revelation about Russell’s past would unravel.

Basically, Colter was waiting for the big epiphany. No pressure.

Russell vehemently shook his head. “Can’t. At least not like this. I need more intel first. You need to find out her name, and then we need your guy Bobby to get onto this.”

And yet again, guess what? Yes, Russell was, indeed, omitting things.

“Me? Why me?” Colter blinked at him. Surprise, surprise…

“‘Cause, obviously, she’d recognize me,” Russell pointed out. Again, omission. Like he had explained earlier, it was a real problem…

Colter exhaled a deep sigh. “Okay, and I’m guessing you’re still not gonna tell me why we’re doing all of this, right?”

“Nope.”

“Yup, thought so.” Still not convinced, Colter narrowed his eyes at his clearly paranoid brother. Maybe paranoia ran in the family. Not to point fingers – he recognized it in himself, too. “Do we really need to go through all that trouble? I mean, you’ve known that woman for, what, fourteen years, you said? Isn’t that a little extreme… even for you?”

Fifteen, Russell corrected in his mind. Close to sixteen. Nineteen max.

“Just trust me, okay? It’s necessary,” Russell reassured, knowing those words bore some weight. Hurriedly (he was getting antsy – this was a time-sensitive issue), he pointed a finger out the window to the sidewalk across the street. “You see that woman walking into the post office? That’s her.”

“What, the brunette in the flowery dress with the golden cross necklace? That’s her?”

“Yup.”

“Wow, okay…” Surprised didn’t come close to explain how Colter felt. He had expected… different. His brow almost met his hairline, but he still tried his best to conceal his wonder – to no avail.

Suspiciously, Russell leaned back in his seat and assessed his brother’s demeanor with a small glare. “What?”

“Nothing.” Colter threw his hands up in surrender, swallowing. “Just… She doesn’t really seem like your type.”

Amused, Russell stifled a chuckle. “And what exactly do you think is my type, little brother?”

“I don’t know…”

“What, you think some nice Christian girl is too good for me?” Russell deadpanned. Admittedly, he enjoyed bantering with his little brother. It reminded him of what he had missed out on for years. This was what he had wanted and longed for since he had left the family at eighteen.

Well, “left” wasn’t really the right word for it now, was it? It implied a voluntary act, and his leaving wasn’t so voluntary.

“That is exactly what I’m saying,” Colter countered, laughing. “It’s just, you know… dental hygienist in a motel hot tub springs to mind.”

“Okay, alright… You done?” Russell huffed, shaking his head. He refrained from showing his honest amusement. “You’re gonna follow her in or not?”

“Alright, I’ll go,” Colter finally agreed somewhat enthusiastically and jumped out of the car, swiftly following the woman inside. After all, he was curiouser and curiouser…

Russell kept his eyes trained on his younger brother until Colter vanished inside the post office. Now, it was out of his hands, only hoping his little brother wouldn’t blow it. Chances were high he would. Not that Russell didn’t have some faith.

He just had more faith in you.

Colter spotted you picking up mail from a PO box and decided on a plan of action in a matter of seconds. After all, he was quick thinking on his feet and the best at what he did. That’s why he was here. That’s why Russell had picked him for the job, right?

As you made your way back to the door, Colter eloquently intercepted you without disturbing the crowd. Another thing he had learned from his father.

He bumped straight into your shoulder and almost tackled you to the ground by the sheer force of his sneak attack. The mail in your hands scattered to the tiled floor like autumn leaves, and as Colter bent down to help you pick it up, he took a peek at your name on a postcard.

“Oh my God, would you look at that… I’m so sorry, Miss–,” the younger Shaw apologized clumsily, “Nora Laurier.” He uttered your name with a suave smile as he handed you back your pile of letters. The flirt in his eyes, however, he only added for Russell as revenge for Reenie. “Beautiful name.”

Your hands lingered on the letters between you for a moment as you took in his features and tall stature. It left you with a strange haunting of familiarity.

“Thank you,” you finally said with a hint of a smile as he let go of the mail. “Be more careful next time.”

“I will. Sorry again.” Colter chuckled with blushed cheeks and watched you leave. He waited till you had passed the row of windows before exiting himself.

He was a good actor, too.

Antsy, Russell almost bit his lip bloody as he stared the post office down till a migraine began to form. God, what he wouldn’t pay for some X-ray vision and super-hearing. He could be downright Superman with that – and the hero always got the girl.

His heart dithered anew with longing as you walked out – it took his breath away. You always did that, and you did it well. But then, you stopped short for a mere second, which wouldn’t have caused a civilian to raise a single brow. But Russell did.

“Shit…” he mumbled in the silence of the truck and lowered himself down to the dashboard. He watched you reach for your phone in your purse and call someone as you headed down the street.

Eventually, you stopped three houses east and finished your call in the shade of a tree next to a busy (and noisy) bus station. Russell caught your eyes drifting back to the doors of the post office, though, just as his little brother walked out and jogged towards the car.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Russell ducked even further down, hitting his head in several places. “What did that knucklehead do?”

The driver’s door opened as Colter casually slipped inside. “Got a name,” he announced victoriously. Part of his happiness emanated from gathering yet another puzzle piece of his mysterious brother – meeting you. “She goes by Nora Laurier now… And she seems nice. Way too nice for you, actually…” As he drifted off, his eyes searched for the elder one before finding him almost kissing the floor mat. “Russ, uh… What-, uh, what are you doing down there?”

“What the hell did you do?” Russell’s tone was both snappy and frustrated.

“Whoa, what d’you mean what did I do?” Colter waved off defensively. “I did what you told me to do!”

“She made you!”

“She did not make me,” Colter brushed off with a laugh, quite confident of his own skill set. They’d had the same teacher. He would know if you had suspected anything.

“Then why did she wait and look after you, huh?” Russell pointed out in annoyance.

Colter’s lips itched to break a smile. He couldn’t help it. It was the perfect opportunity to teach his flirt of a brother a well-needed lesson. “Well, maybe I caught her eye… piqued her interest, you know?”

Russell cocked a brow from below, his stare lethal. “Did you flirt with her?”

Colter hesitated for a moment. Mostly for dramatic effect. “I-, uh… You told me to get her name. ‘Sides, I told you Reenie was off limits.”

“Oh, so this is about revenge? Very mature.” Russell frowned. “She still there?”

“Where?” Colter stretched himself a bit as he looked out the windshield.

“Tree. Bus station.”

An amused smile formed on Colter’s lips as he spotted you. “Oh, yeah. I see her. I don’t think she suspects anything. She’s not even loo-… No, uh, wait… Yup.”

“What?” Russell’s brows drew together as he rose a little from his crouched position.

“Yeah, she’s definitely looking over here.”

“Well, stop looking down,” Russell hissed through gritted teeth. After a deep breath, he spoke in a calmer, more advising tone, “Pretend I’m not here.”

“Trying to, trust me… Should I wave at her? Smile?”

“Are you nuts?! Just look ahead. Pretend you’re getting a phone call.”

Colter did as he was told and held his phone to his ear. “She’s still looking,” he informed with a pressed smile, barely moving his mouth when he spoke.

“Okay, what’s she doing now?”

“There’s a-, uh, there’s a car coming and pulling over by the bus station. Dark gray Audi A6. Virginia Plates. Yankee-Papa-Charlie-5824,” Colter said as Russell hauled a pen from his pocket and began to jot down the plate numbers on his left palm.

“Copy that.”

He’d memorize them anyway, but one could never be too safe. He could get a concussion in the next hour or so (most likely because of you), and then what?

“Okay, she’s getting in,” Colter narrated. “Driver’s in his late-thirties. Male. Glasses. Medium height. Medium build… I think you could take him,” he added with a teasing grin.

“Shut up,” Russell retorted. “Are they gone now?”

“Pulling away from the curb and… Yep, they’re gone. Headed south down the road,” Colter affirmed.

“Alright.” Russell popped back into his seat with a sigh and some sore muscles. He had been sure he’d heard a few bones crack while he’d been cowering down there. He might be finally getting too old for these missions. But that was part of the reason why he was here in the first place – retirement was calling. And Russell wanted to fill the chair next to him on the porch.

“You good?” Colter checked and choked the small laugh that wanted to escape upon the ruffled sight of his older brother.

“Yeah, go ahead and follow them. Just keep a low profile,” Russell instructed. “On our way, you might wanna call your op analyst, too. See what he can find out.”

“Alright,” Colter agreed somewhat reluctantly but still tailed the sedan. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“What d’you mean?” Russell said mindlessly, keeping his eyes focused on the target vehicle.

“Us… stalking your ex-girlfriend?” Colter noted with a cocked brow. “And her potentially new boyfriend?”

Russell only laughed at that. “We’re good. Trust me.”

Admittedly, though, a small part of him wondered (and worried) if this was all real. Maybe Nora Laurier wasn’t your real name, but it might be your actual new one – one you’d adopted as a safety precaution after you’d left it all behind. Maybe you had finally done it and retired, found a perfectly normal guy, and settled down – just without him.

Or:

Maybe you were still in the game, after all.

Russell was hoping it was the latter. Otherwise, he could probably expect a hefty restraining order in his future, but he wasn’t about to tell Colter that. Not until he knew for sure.

The Audi parked in front of an organic grocery store a few blocks down. Colter chose a spot across the parking lot, keeping a reasonable distance with the perfect view. Russell watched as you and Unnamed Man #1 sauntered into the store, an arm slung tightly around your waist and a smile on your face.

While on the phone with Bobby, Colter could tell that the sight of you in another man’s arms stung. “Okay, uh, thanks, Bobby.”

“What’d he say?” Russell fired as soon as Colter had removed the phone even just an inch from his ear.

“Uh, well, there’s some bad news,” Colter revealed hesitantly and licked his lips, not knowing how he was supposed to break his brother’s heart. “Bobby ran the plate number through the DMV. It’s registered to an Aiden Laurier.”

“Laurier?” Undeniably, Russell’s heart flinched at the connection. “Maybe a brother. Cousin…”

Or a colleague, Russell’s mind stubbornly added.

Colter bit his lower lip hard before he spoke, “They’ve been married for two years. I’m sorry, Russ.”

A hand comfortingly patted Russell’s shoulder. A part of him wanted to scream heavenward, but something else inside was gnawing on him.

He clicked his tongue. “No… No.” Sure, one could argue that denial was always the first step of grief. “No. No way she married sweater-vest John Mulaney over there.”

“I’m pretty sure she did. Bobby sent me the marriage certificate,” Colter countered and showed him the screenshot on his phone.

Russell glanced at it for a short second, not even bothering to waste more time on fake news. He shook his head. He knew better.

“Nah. I’m not buying it. You need to go in there and tell me what you see.” He sealed his words with an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Colter exhaled deeply. “Russ, I-, uh, I think you need to let this go, man. You’re starting to… Never mind.”

“No. Go ahead. Say it,” Russell prompted with some thunder in his voice. “I’m reminding you of Dad, don’t I?”

Colter only twitched his shoulders. “I mean, yeah. A little.”

Russell’s head bobbed in thought before he met his little brother’s eyes. “You really don’t see it?”

“See what?”

“The post office, the road crew over there, the-, the fake documents?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“C’mon… Just think about everything Dad taught us, huh?”

Was Colter really not getting it? Russell found that quite hard to believe. He had known his little brother to be as sharp as a whip. While Russell didn’t always have the nicest things to say about their father, he could admit the old man had prepared them well for life. Well, one life at least. This one.

The nomad life, the odd jobs that required them to have a particular set of skills like Liam Neeson.

Colter shook his head. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, Russell.”

Russell let out a sigh and leaned back in his seat. “Alright, if you don’t see it, you don’t see it.” A smirk twitched in the corners of his lips. “It’s your funeral, brother…”

With narrowed eyes, Colter pursed his lips. “Alright, just tell me one thing, okay?”

“You know I can’t tell you anything,” Russell reiterated and brushed his beard.

“I know. I know… It’s not that kinda question,” the younger Shaw reassured.

“Go ahead,” Russell relented and curiously looked at his brother.

Within a second, Russell could think of a million questions Colter might want to ask him, but this hadn’t been one of them:

“In the past three years, how many times have you thought about her? And I don’t just mean ‘crossed your mind’ every couple of months. I mean ‘seriously thought’ about her?”

“Hmm.” Russell pondered for a moment before replying, “Every damn day.”

It wasn’t a lie, no omission of anything, and Colter could tell. You were the first thought that popped into Russell’s still groggy mind when he woke up and the last one every night that fluttered across his weary eyelids. Obviously, he didn’t give Colter the soppy answer, though.

“Fine. I’ll go,” Colter softened his stance. “You owe me,” he added with a pointed finger before setting foot outside the car.

“I do owe you. Anything you want, brother,” Russell agreed with a broad grin. “How about we start with a full case of my homebrew, huh?”

Colter danced gracefully through the aisles, spying through canned goods and boxes of cereal. He watched you carefully select fruit with your husband, move through the dairy talking about “organic” and “locally sourced” till you landed on a few choices of toothpaste and finally strolled to the cash register.

Everything seemed boringly normal and ordinary. You chatted with the cashier. They handed you a coupon, which you slipped into your purse. Your husband paid with his credit card (which carried the same name matching the DMV records), and both of you left the store with two paper bags in your arms.

Once through the sliding glass doors, you stopped and turned to your husband. “Darn, honey, I think we forgot the milk.”

“You want me to grab it?”

“No, I’ll do it.”

“Okay, I’ll wait by the car and load the rest of the groceries.”

Now, Colter found that odd. He had watched you spent at least five minutes in the dairy aisle. How could you forget something as basic as milk?

As you hushed inside, your husband sauntered back to the car, and Colter followed you back in. You passed right by the dairy and, with a few looks that resembled a scan of your surroundings, you slipped past the door that led to the restrooms.

Waiting a beat, Colter went in after you. But you were long gone – just not to the restroom. An ‘Employee Only’ door that led to a dumpster alley outside was just falling shut.

Granted, Colter had a bad feeling about this. It was the same feeling he always got shortly before walking into a trap. In his defense, though, you were not a seven-foot-tall, 300-pound kind of guy. He wasn’t about to be ambushed by Shaquille O’Neal, which is probably why Colter didn’t find it necessary to pull his gun.

In hindsight, he should have.

The narrow alley was quiet and empty, except for some trash littering the ground around the dumpsters. It was closed-off, too, wedged between buildings with no view to the parking lot or nearby streets.

And then, something hit him. Or better yet: You hit him. With an elbow to the face and a stiff, flat palm to his throat, Colter stumbled forward before you gave him the final blow and knocked him off balance, tackling him to the ground.

Pressing his cheek into the rough and unforgiving surface of the asphalt, you jumped on him and restrained his arms tightly behind his back. While he squirmed to get out of your hold, he didn’t use as much brutal force as you expected he would.

“Shit,” he muttered below you, his voice muffled by the gravel. A light chuckle escaped him. “Okay, you got me.”

“Sounds about right,” you agreed with a smirk and tightened your grip on his arm.

Then, Colter heard a gun click above him. Hoping to see his brother, he looked up – only to find your husband with a weapon in hand as he stared down the barrel.

“Ah, I think you broke my nose,” the younger Shaw mumbled with a groan.

“Good. You’ve been following me. Why?” you prompted sternly. “Who are you? Who are you working for? Jafari? Mueller?”

“Listen, I-I think you’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not who you think I am,” Colter argued with a strained voice. What the hell had Russell gotten him into? “This is just a big misunderstanding.”

“Uh-huh.” You could only roll your eyes at that. How many times had you heard that line before?

“Let’s hood him. Get him to the Market,” your partner suggested. “We’ll see if he talks then.”

“No, really,” Colter insisted, growing a bit more uneasy. He had no idea what the Market was, but it didn’t sound pleasant. “You know my brother.”

“Who’s your brother?” With your elbow, you put more pressure on his back.

“Ow, alright…” Colter groaned once more as the pain intensified. “Looks kinda like me. Think two decades younger. He was in the Army, so probably didn’t have long hair and a beard. Uh, kind… green eyes? No? Doesn’t ring a bell?”

Colter watched your brow furrow in his periphery as he squinted upwards. He could see the gears starting to turn in your head. You just needed one final push to put all the puzzle pieces together.

“If it helps, my name is Colter. Colter Sh–”

“Shaw,” you shot like a missile. Your jaw plummeted to the ground, your heart springing right out with it. Your grip on the man caught between your thighs loosened, hearing Colter’s sigh of relief before you heard his voice.

“Hiya, sweetheart.”

Your head darted up, the man beneath you long forgotten. You swallowed as your eyes landed on an all too familiar face – even when it was covered by a bunch of hair that had never been there before. The heart-crushing smile was still the same as if it had been ripped straight from an old photograph you had of him.

“Russell?!”

Part 2: This Is a Russell Mission

Quite the entrance! Writing Russell reminded me somewhat of Plastic Hearts Dean (minus the addiction problems unless you count lying) because of all the wild overthinking 😂

If you enjoyed this story, then I'll gladly keep working on its prequel. Was a bit nervous to post this since I filled in some family history gaps myself 😅 I also dove into the books a little and added some things that kinda fit their "show" personalities.

Please let me know what you think and if you'd be interested in a young soldier!Russell series 😉🤍

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[lulublack90]

Prompt 30 - Breakup

@wolfstarmicrofic May 30, word count 352

“Enough, Remus! I’m done with the secrets and the lies.” Sirius shook the tears from his eyes. “I’m done.” He grabbed his leather jacket and stormed out of their flat. 

He knew they had to keep secrets. It was Dumbledore’s orders. But Remus literally never told him anything but lies these days. This had been the final straw. Frank Longbottom had seen him hanging out in a muggle bar with a group of known werewolves. Sirius had asked him about it, and it had not gone well. He replayed the conversation in his head. 

“So where have you been all day then?” He asked as he peeled the carrots for dinner. 

“Guard duty, you know how it is, totally boring. I’m glad I took my book with me.” He slurred slightly as he opened the fridge, looking for another beer. 

“You smell like a brewery,” Sirius bit back. Remus paused. 

“Well, yeah, Frank and I went for a pint when our shift was done,” Remus answered as he cracked open the beer. 

“Frank had a meeting with Moody all afternoon,” Sirius said blankly. Remus blanched. “I actually met up with Frank earlier,” Sirius put the knife down, not trusting himself to chop while he confronted Remus. “So, where were you?” 

“Dumbledore’s orders, can’t tell you.” Remus snarled at the look on Sirius’s face. That was the moment that Sirius knew something was wrong. They’d always trusted each other, always. Remus hanging out with other werewolves was one thing, but not trusting Sirius enough to tell him was something else. He couldn’t take it anymore. It was killing him. 

He apparated to the Potter’s. He’d go back and get his stuff when Remus next left the flat. He knocked on the pretty red door and waited. As soon as James appeared, bathed in the soft glow from within, he broke down. 

“We broke up,” He sobbed in his best friend's arms. James gathered him up and took him inside. He wrapped him in Sirius’s favourite fluffy blanket and sat down with him on the sofa, holding Sirius while his heart shattered into pieces. 

Part 2

[fanfenomenon]

reading ac forsaken rn and

HAYTHAM REALLY DID LOVE AND CARE FOR ZIIO

FUCK

always thought they only had a ~brief dalliance~ at the cave but NOOOOOOO

haytham became infatuated with ziio at the very first time he saw her through his spyglass at silas’ fort

THEY SPENT MONTHS CAMPING TOGETHER, EVEN WAY AFTER KILLING BRADDOCK.

also i feel like haytham was being truthful when he told connor that he didn’t wish to burn ziio’s village (confirmed by his disagreement with lee and the others’ expedition of native lands when he was confronted by lee at his and ziio’s camp in forsaken)

though im pretty sure he lied to connor about not knowing about her death when they were at the brewery (afaik connor confirmed that haytham already knew about the burning of his village when they confronted washington at valley forge)

i also really liked lee and haytham’s dynamic in the book, which actually led me to understand why, when confronted/questioned by connor, haytham always defended lee. i know that haytham has a sort of platonic affection for lee, seeing him as not just a subordinate (or in his words, his ‘pupil’), but as a friend too

and that scene where haytham defended ziio against lee’s racist remarks… YES HAYTHAM GET HIS ASS!!

expect more of me infodumping about ac forsaken btw

[lightofraye]

I decided to torture myself.

I don't know why.

Her voice is just awful. Dear Danneel, please get vocal lessons. Bring it down an octave or something because fucking yikes.

A follower sent me this and asked if I had seen it. I had not. It was, after all, a fan compilation of various interviews of Danneel, videos, whatever. And...

How the hell do people stan her?

She's vapid, uneducated. Ugh.

Anyway... points of interest.

Throughout the whole video: WHO CARES ABOUT THE DAMNED HAIR TWIRLING?!

0:54: During a photo shoot I guess at a premier. ZERO chemistry between Danneel and Jensen. Jensen is smiling politely and wanting to get away as fast as possible.

1:00: Yes Danneel. We can see that it's a hallway. GOD. How insipid. Even Jensen was like "OMG, what?"

1:54: Uh. Danneel, honey, why would anyone else play Dean Winchester besides Jensen Ackles? He did not like that one bit.

4:14: Uh huh. If Jensen had witnessed some of it, why was nothing done then? I'm super-dubious about this claim. I really am. And how could he have witnessed it when he was likely filming Supernatural during that? Hmm.

5:55: Yeahhh.... had the family, but the steady career? Hahaha. Nope.

6:35: Danneel, honey, neither do you. If you expect me to believe you do any of the cleaning, I'm gonna call you a liar. You do nothing. Also, Jensen looked annoyed at the idea of so many bathrooms.

6:43: You are also not nice. I came across some old rumors about you, honey. You were awful, vicious, and the reason you got fired from One Tree Hill was because of your *whispers* drug habits.

6:55: WHAT IS SHE WEARING?!

7:35: The ever-changing face, proving that she lies about her plastic surgery. (Supposedly she claims she doesn't that many and I died laughing.) Also: "beautiful men with big egos"--bullshit, honey. You're the one who has the massive ego with zero to back it up. Plus she sounds as insincere as fuck.

8:22: "It's good. I love him. He's great." Insincere.

8:33: I'm cringing on Jensen's behalf. "Where the magic happens". And bypassed Jensen's wishes and insisted it not be cut--and guess what? It wasn't cut. As if they've shared a bed in years.

8:44: Ohhhh my gods. The brewery interview. Pay attention to Jensen's face as the interviewer talks about working together, living together--Jensen's done. And actually says "yes" to being tired of being with her. Danneel looked pissed. Ah honey...

11:43: Uh huh. The ring, huh? Gold digger.

12:04: The so-called flight anxiety. Whatever, Danneel. If you're able to fly without supposed help or therapy...? (No, getting drunk is not legitimate help.) You fly a lot, more than most "average" people. You take your kids. You go to conventions. You supposedly saw your husband a lot when he was filming Supernatural. You flew for your tidbits of roles. Then you're fine.

14:34: "Jensen's first time being in here." For the kitchen? Oh please! As if he never went in for a snack, beer, or anything. SHUT UP, DANNEEL.

14:38: "Nothing can happen to me, not for me, but for my kids." Excuse me, I need to shake some sense into her. Babe, honey, you do jackshit for your kids. They'll be fine.

Also that's not how panic attacks work. You literally aren't able to talk yourself out of it. Please stop.

15:36: "We're having another baby." That look your husband gave you? A deserved death glare because you knew he wouldn't like it. Stop emotionally torturing him, god!

16:41: I love that Jensen called her out on her lie about her name. I don't think she liked that either.

17:24: Ah. The insult about him smelling bad. God, can't she ever say anything nice about him? See the way he took a deep breath, braced himself? That's not a normal reaction to a "joke".

17:43: How can he not know women put perfume on their wrists and elsewhere? Translation: he never sees Danneel do it. Because they don't share a bedroom after all.

18:11: HOW CAN HE NOT KNOW THAT CHAIR MOVES?! Did the man not live there at all?!

19:34: Oh god. The doll. Honestly, Jensen should dump it. Stop torturing him with it! It's not funny!

19:53: Couldn't let him have the closet joy, huh? Bitch.

20:18: No. You're not nice. Nope. Not at all.

God. My eardrums. I'm crying now.

Danneel, babe, vocal coach. Please!

[trivialbob]

Today the dogs each got an ice cream cup. It's hot outside! When they were done eating I am certain there wasn't a single molecule of ice cream in, on or around the plastic containers.

We have an ash tree in our front yard that has to be cut down. It's diseased and dying. I don't mind playing with my chainsaw when some small to medium sized limbs fall. But one of these days it will take out the garage.

Our neighbors had the same problem. Fortunately for them their tree was on the city's right-of-way so the city cut it down at no extra cost to the homeowners.

Our tree is several feet behind the right-of-way, so we are on the hook for removal. I've received one estimate so far. It will cost a pretty penny but not as much as it was to have an even larger tree removed from the back yard a few years ago.

Last night my brother Jim and his girlfriend Nicole met Sheila and me at the brewery. Our favorite food truck (Philly cheese steak sandwiches) was there. The sandwiches are $15, tax included. That's a decent price from a food truck. Even better, the sandwiches are so big Sheila and I split one and still get full. So really, it was $7.50 for an excellent sandwich.

After we ate we showed Jim and Nicole our new game. It's called Uff Da or Carbles (Cards & Marbles). Someone else at the brewery had introduced us to the game. Sheila later bought a very nicely finished, hand-made solid walnut board off Etsy. $$$

We played the game for a while. Sheila sent the Etsy link to Nicole who looked at her phone and remarked, "Oh look, it was only $10 extra to get your last name engraved on the board."

I gave Sheila a big "Whaaaaat?"

Nicole quickly lied to my face. "Oh Bob, but it's FREE on the first game you order from that guy."

Sheila said, "Sure, right. That's not even the first game I've purchased from him."

[beerwanderer]

Saturday night's alright for Bockin'.

[the-desert-beast]

The Black Wolf Brewery

"Within Lion's Arch you'll find many kinds of criminal. Some, are sly, inconspicuous. Others, are brazen and brutish."

"Some, you'll never even know were there, right in front of you."

"Of these sorts of 'hidden in plain sight criminals' you'll find out dear friends, the blackwolf brewery. A simple brewery, that has been closed and shut up for years. Or so the newest owner would have us all think. Their name is unknown to nearly all but myself. Esyld runs quite the little business out of that musty old shack she calls a 'brewery.' I've never been allowed inside. I've never been allowed near her 'family' either, but people talk if you have the mind to listen. Kirari never shuts up when she wanders the streets at night. My theory is that, for one reason or another, I am immune to that little memory wipe charm that hangs from her ear. Whenever I ask other people about her passing by just the night before, they look at me like they've never even seen a woman before. They can recall everything from the night before, except Kirari's presence. Her brother Yuuji isn't always subtle either. He's quite awkward at the shops, quite blunt some days. I can barely read the Miyake siblings. Although, Yuuji seems to have a soft spot for one of the shopkeepers he visits every other morning. A young man. I've pestered the boy about Yuuji's presence but he too, never can recall the Miyake's face. I noticed just yesterday his new earring. Curious. Are they onto me? Or is it a precaution?"

"If Esyld has caught on that I've been watching them all, she'd rend me to pieces. Best to keep it subtle in the coming weeks. That revenant was always too clever for the rest of them. Lucky little me, that I'm never considered a threat. Too pretty or frail I suppose. Esyld of all people would know a pretty face hides a thousand lies."

"Arlais is the most difficult to trail, I can never tell when those, 'ghosts' or whatever they are of her's have spotted me or not. Rangers. She never leaves the brewery either, she's always within line of sight of that place. Dedicated, I'll give her that. Gods that woman has legs- I wish she were as short as I am, maybe then I could keep up without risking her pets spotting me so easily. "

"Last of all, there's Iniss. They barely ever leave the underground. Eachtime I've spotted them leaving it's always late at night when I'm trailing one of the other nightowls."

"All of this information is useless unless someone has a death-wish! The entire company keeps their deals and smuggling perfectly underwraps, I've never even seen one holding a package for nightmare's sake! Iniss nearly caught me the other night as well, now I have to think of a way to cover my tracks."

The journal entry ends there, the pages stained with blood. No skilled informant would ever allow a mole to squeak, or be so blind. Kirari hums to herself on her way back to the brewery, Esyld should be pleased.

aka, I wanted to talk about my EU alt OCs crew, and this is the braincell that struck me. so we got Esyld, (she/it/any), revenant, kingpin. sylvari, ex-nightmare court. butch pansexual. ⬆ these two are siblings ⬇ Iniss, (they/them), masculine honorifics; mister, king, brother, boyfriend, etc. Thief, weapons collector & smuggler. sylvari, ex-nightmare court. gay. (wriothesley from genshin impact inspired.) Miyake Kirari, she/her, mesmer, informant. allegedly human. (Secretly a mists demon Kitsune) (yae miko from genshin impact inspired.) sexuality; wouldnt you like to know weather boy Miyake Yuuji, he/any, elementalist, manager of sales & inquirys. (kamisato ayato from genshin impact inspired.) queer. Arlais, she/any, debt collector, ranger. human, canthan descent. (ningguang from genshin impact inspired.) lesbian.

The blackwolf brewery; an old brewery thats been abandoned for years. esyld bought it after rising through underground ranks and raising enough money to have her own crew.

[bookscandlesnbts]

The person who saw Jikook at the brewery said it was JM and JK with their go pros. They thought camera crews but we saw it was their bodyguards. The person who saw them eating pizza, it was just them. No one confirmed JIkook rented anything with staff for 30 people. LMAO why you lying. When they went on the boat, the bodyguards stayed behind. They just accompanied them to the boat. The go pros isn't work no matter how you spin it. Its something they are doing together for THEM, which clearly they both agreed to and wanted to do on their vacation. And even if they do release something one day, since when can't couples work and vacation together? maybe the go pros was a cover since they knew they were gonna be together during a couple holiday. Maybe its one last thing for fans before they leave. Maybe it for their own personal memories. Jimin and JK spent nearly a week together just the two of them. You think staff was sleeping in their Bed and breakfast in CT? Get real. No matter how much you antis cry and yank your hair out and lie and say it was work, its never gonna be. Jimin had no schedules for tiffany or dior confirmed. He went to support JK. Period and no amount of lies and gaslighting will change it that it happened. '

Say it with me. Jikook just the two of them ALONE, together in NY/CT for nearly a week. During JK's biggest solo week, during a couple holiday, Having a blast. And right after JK's Jimin centered lives where he was missing him. Oh I know Jk enjoyed the hell out of their trip and that alone time with Jimin. wink wink. Cry more antis and make more excuses to cope. We love to hear this song.

Thank you for the fact checking anon. 😊 And, say it or should I say, sing it for them louder. 😜

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 15: Trust me

Saturday afternoon, I find myself alone on my roof, looking out over a relatively quiet Fairport, with nothing left to do. It’s late enough in the season that the Farmer’s Market is no longer in session, and even Joel is nowhere to be seen. No children playing with him in his park.

I’ve spent the morning hanging out in my favorite coffee shop, listening to my friends banter and run their business. But then the shop got really busy and I left, to let them deal with the lunch rush.

That’s over, though, and the block is quiet again. People just haven’t really been staying downtown for as long as they used to since Säure started terrorizing the city. Even now that everyone’s kind of gotten used to it, and they joke about how he’s not really going to do anything, business hasn’t really recovered. And now I’m basking in what little sunlight the day has to offer.

And tomorrow’s The Day.

So I send an SMS message to Chapman, “Scan him.”

Yes. I lied. About a myriad of stuff. It was strategic. I learned about the tactic from reading gritty fantasy novels about military companies with horrible stinky wizards, because I was a weird girl. 

I hope it works.

—

It is Saturday, October 12, 2:31 pm, and Daniel Aurelian Säure has his nose in a spreadsheet and is losing patience with it.

This is something he’d normally delegate, similar to how he now has a lawyer reading and handling what to do about a certain impudent dragon’s tumblr blog, but he’s chosen to focus on this problem himself as a sort of old therapy. A way to try to keep his mind off of things that have gotten particularly galling. Such as a certain impudent dragon’s tumblr blog.

See, about a month and a half ago, his Point Roberts estate, where he is now in fact, underwent rapid, unexpected and catastrophic renovation.

He’d had to work particularly hard since he woke up under the starlight that early morning to keep it under wraps. To learn how to hide his own bulk, to control himself well enough to communicate to his people, and then to unlock his protective coloration in order to step back into his own shoes and take command again.

Fortunately, his master bedroom was well out of sight of any of his neighbors, and he had easy access to the water from there.

The rest was harrowing, nigh impossible, and a test of his very being. And he’s still not sure if he remembers it all very clearly. But, fortunately, he’d learned well from his grandfather, and had set up his businesses to operate efficiently and effectively even with his sudden and unexpected absence.

They’d all performed admirably. It was just the broader local politics he couldn’t account for without his own frequent personal touch, and he had to do some damage control once he was ready to start making public appearances again. And that had necessitated researching the new players on the stage as thoroughly as possible. And reading certain interviews with a certain impudent dragon who’d managed to capture the public’s imagination somehow just before one of his companies had tried to thoughtfully relocate her to environs much more suited to her kind.

In the process, he’d become emotionally entangled with her existence and influence. Especially when she managed to do something so useful as quelling massive civil unrest with only her voice.

And then he’d unexpectedly run into Meghan in person, and everything fell apart so quickly after that.

The fact that he didn’t have anything to blame but his own lack of self control didn’t make it any better.

And one of his favorite cars was destroyed during his own meltdown. Being directly attacked by one of the neighborhood dragon whelps didn’t help, of course. But he shouldn’t have put himself in that situation to begin with. He shouldn’t have tried to negotiate with Meghan on his own. He’d very nearly reverted to his natural form right there in the brewery, and that would have been an utter disaster.

Not that flying fully draconic over all the neighborhoods of Fairport hadn’t been the worst political move of his career.

But he’d also learned something profound about himself in the process.

When he’d done that, his need to eat physical food had plummeted dramatically, and he’d felt energized.

So, he’d commanded Morning Glory Corporation to start publicly distancing itself from him, to effectively fire him, and continue carrying out its mission, while his family still retained ownership of the company. And he started experimenting with this new mode of feeding he’d seemed to have found.

But, unfortunately, his flights weren’t just attempts at learning more about his own power. He also clearly had the attention of one of the local Architects, and he’d started trying to teach it to leave him alone.

Unfortunately, he realized couldn’t do any actual damage to the city, or anyone in it, and continue to feed at full efficiency.

When he tried to push himself that far, something in him pulled back with alarm, and he understood this to be his instinctual need for sustenance. Whatever he drew from the terrified populace would not come from a dead one.

And then, in the meantime, Meghan had started slandering him in her blog.

That had enraged him and sent him out on more feeding frenzies, which was also when he’d tried boiling to bay to instill more terror and fear.

It had worked, briefly. But the energy he had been gaining was starting to wane. He was getting less and less of it each time.

And that’s when he had changed tactics. He needed to start studying how to apply terror more directly. Instead of the subtle politics of fear and control he’d inherited from his family, to keep an iron grip on all his sources of wealth, now he needed to learn how to cultivate raw, physical terror for as long as possible, or supplement his diet with enormous quantities of meat.

Remaining in human guise did help with the need for massive calories, a bit. It was almost like it put his greater self into sort of a hibernation. But it was hard to keep it that way, and when he burst forth he was ravenous.

So, to give himself time to study and plan his new future, he relegated keeping track of local politics, and specifically Meghan and her pet Architects, to his personal team of lawyers and publicists.

And turned his own attention back onto raw numbers. Namely, the slow and careful, constructive renovations now proceeding on with his Point Roberts estate.

Which is what he is working on now.

He’s dealing with the pure numbers part of it. The time, money, materials, weight, space, energy consumption before, during, and after construction. All of it. This is one of the things he is particularly good at, gifted, even. Trying to find the best combination of variables to get the most out of a situation.

Usually, he’d leave this particular job to his contractors and do the numbers of his business dealings. But his home is personal. It’s important. It’s foundational. And with everything else in turmoil, turning to the care of his own lair is the best thing he can do. Everything will fall into place around it.

If he didn’t know any better, with the way things always turned out when he took this sort of control in something, he’d think he was one of the Architects himself.

But, as he’d learned from his family, you couldn’t be one of them. No one could. Not unwittingly. You couldn’t even join them if you wanted to. The Architects all knew who they were and there were never any more than 900,000 of them. And never any less, either.

And it was so funny, the people who could be considered mundane aware, that Meghan had linked him to because of his use of language, had no clue. No clue at all about just what the Architects were and how deep into Earth’s history they stretched. Those who say they’ve noticed so rarely actually have. They might dream and imagine all sorts of wild possibilities, but never truly allow themselves to believe any of it to be true. Only that the stories were convenient and compelling lies used to control the masses and bring them in line.

But he had books, ancient books, with names of Architects and the structures they’ve been building, passed down from father to son in his family for generations.

And some personal experience as well.

Just nine years ago, there had been a convergence of the Order of the Hunter and the Guardians right here in Independence County. And –

There’s that infernal buzzing from the Physicist!

He can’t bring himself to focus on his numbers or to get them to do what he wants, because his mind insists on racing over things he can’t control, and now this.

The Physicist is measuring him.

He’d promised himself to not rise to the occasion this time. To take a deep breath, tell himself there’s nothing he can do, and to refocus on his work.

But then it happens again.

And again and again in quick succession.

Is the Physicist deliberately trying to get a rise out of him?

Is that what that Devil’s Creature is doing?

Then, very specifically, Säure must refuse to engage.

Unfortunately, just as he turns back to his spreadsheet, pressing his fingers to his temples, he notices there’s a pattern.

He has to listen to it, and shortly he recognizes that it’s a sequence of long and short bursts of buzzing. So obviously Morse code, which he doesn’t know. 

Fortunately, jotting down the sequence is easy to do. And he keeps doing it until it repeats. Then he marks where it repeats, and then uses his computer to look up Morse code and how to translate it.

There’s a very easy to use translation app that comes up right away, using dashes and commas. So he plugs it in and the app instantly comes up with the most likely result.

“Your numbers won’t add up,” Chapman is repeatedly telling him.

—

Point Roberts is not exactly visible from my rooftop.

It’s on the other side of a bunch of low lying foothills that create the contours of the Lummi Reservation and the city of Jam, across a stretch of water beyond that. It’s a piece of land that’s only directly connected to Canada, but belongs to Washington State, and tends to be a great place for the wealthier residents of the area to live. To get to it, you either have to drive through Canada, or take a boat, helicopter, or seaplane.

Or swim or fly as a dragon.

I know where to look, though, because we’d long ago looked up where Säure is known to live, and that’s the result we got. Which had really only verified Chapman’s scans.

I can feel Chapman’s shifting, myself, coming from the very southern edge of Fairport, in what I’m led to understand is a vacant lot near Valley Parkway. That’s going to draw Säure right over my home, if he’s angry enough to attack directly. And the lack of any houses in that lot will make it a potential target for actual violence. We’re thinking that if Säure catches sight of that, it’ll draw his focus.

And boom, there he is.

Rising into the distant sky like a small mushroom cloud. Glowing even in broad daylight.

Oh.

He is pissed.

In preparation, I dive off the roof of my building and drop, spreading my wings.

—

Whenever he relaxes into his full self, Säure is reminded just how big and terrifying the world looked to him all the years leading to his metamorphosis. When he is fully stretched out, whether standing on the shore of his estate or gliding over the land of his territory, everything looks right and as it should be. And the relief is palpable.

And when he is all scrunched down into that little worm-like form and his eyes are only as far apart as any human’s, things tower above him that shouldn’t. And walking anywhere seems to take excruciating ages. It has always seemed that way.

But right now, even though he feels this change, he feels something bigger.

His rage, and the need to see if an Architect can be killed.

Maybe, this time, he’ll get lucky and find the tiny, supposedly immortal goblin residing in a place where he can safely land on it.

Or scour it from the face of the Earth with his breath, without singeing his own hoard of souls.

It takes almost no time for him to cross the distance to Fairport, and the buzzing of his nerves won’t stop.

He almost doesn’t notice the cry of one of the whelps as he passes over the land it thinks belongs to it, he’s so focused.

But this cry is followed by another. Not by the rippling of all neighboring cries as Meghan has taught them to do, but the cry of the next one he passes over.

This doesn’t bother him so much as itch in the back of his mind.

It smells of some kind of coordination. But, of course, that would happen where there are Architects present. It’s to be expected. This merely confirms to him that this is some kind of trap he’s only going to have to destroy.

And this continues as he crosses farmland into suburb and crosses over city toward the buzzing of the Physicist.

He even hears the telltale cry of Meghan as he passes over downtown Fairport. She’s not on her roof. He knows she likes to make her rounds.

He’ll deal with her in time. The Physicist is well outside of her territory.

In fact, he can see the location from where he’s at. His exceptional eyesight can pinpoint the lot where his nerves tell him where the Physicist is.

It’s confusing.

Why would that Architect hide in there?

It’s a piece of greenway, a part of the watershed, a wetland where the local creek runs through the neighborhood, protected for a group of spawning salmon and whatever birds and other fauna want to hide in the foliage there. People aren’t even supposed to wander into that lot.

A well placed ray of concentrated UV energy should obliterate the Physicist there without harming a single human soul, and the Physicist should know that.

And it’s not running from him.

What could it have in store for him? Something like the light traps left on Meghan’s roof?

There’s no substrate on which to craft one of those. And he didn’t feel the Architect at work attempting to create anything, unless this buzzing of communication is achieving something else as well.

Well, the only way to discover what this trap is is to spring it, and he certainly can do that.

At first, he flies in low over the cozy little neighborhood of students and lower class families, rumbling infrasonically as he goes to strike an instinctual fear into the populace below him, their nerves jangled by sound they cannot hear as the sun is blotted out for a moment. And he soaks it in.

The local whelps have announced his arrival as he flew in, and that only added to the anticipation and tension that everyone must be feeling.

Then, when he’s past the lot with the Physicist in it, he pulls up and rises up as high into the air as his godly wings can lift him.

When he can’t pull himself any higher, a point at which he is touching the very Heavens with his nose, he twists and turns and sets his eyes on his mark, pulling his wings in.

Straight down he plummets, opening his jaws.

—

What I see, as I come in low through campus and the streets of Southside Fairport, rocketing through the territories of gronk_lizard and Brenna, is what I’ve actually always expected an orbital laser weapon to look like.

An instant flash of iridescent flames off on the other end of the neighborhood in front of me, quickly overcome with rising smoke illuminated by intensely glowing indigo light from above.

There’s no visible ray, not even for me. Not until it meets the smoke.

But then this gargantuan white monster of muscles, scales, horns, teeth and claws snaps its wings out and pulls itself up from its dive toward that conflagration and misses the ground there, sliding over rooftops directly toward me.

The downward rush of wind cause by the passage of his wings, and the compression of the air necessary to keep Säure aloft, quashes the fire right out, flattening charred trees and brambles in its wake, and cause the smoke to disperse in rolling swirls that spread out over the surrounding houses.

Not quite the maneuver I was hoping he’d make.

I’m going to have to wing it now.

Fortunately, Chapman’s shifting starts up again from somewhere else in the city, right on cue.

I’ll have the time to catch up and figure this out.

It’s probably worth mentioning I’m using my rear feet to carry the duffel bag that Chapman gave me a while ago to hold clothes in.

It has something else in it now.

This slows me down, but it will be worth it if I can catch up to a bewildered and increasingly frustrated and flustered Säure.

As I rise behind Säure’s passage to turn and follow him, I glance back at the now destroyed lot.

The Poet used to live there, if her old comics were true. But she’s taken to residing in other haunts now.

And the sirens of several fire engines start up.

—

Rhoda pours some tea into a cup that isn’t hers or Meghan’s and places the pot back down onto the table.

She likes to collect old school magazine clippings of animal photos from all over the world. There are a handful of publications that have always been good for this, and she’s been vulturing the library and garage sales for discarded copies every year, to cut them up with her general use scissors.

She’s sandwiched her favorite images in a big collage between the two panes of glass of her coffee table. It’s a table designed specifically for this kind of decoration.

The pot goes onto the wicker tray, which is obscuring a family of meerkats, a tiger, a handful of butterflies, and an elephant.

But she moves the cup and its saucer across the table from where she’s sitting and places it next to a komodo dragon. Which she likes to imagine is a meaningful gesture on her part, though she can’t quite imagine just what it means besides the thought of their mutual concern.

She looks up at her guest.

“I can’t help but think that Meghan’s plan is too elaborate,” Chapman says. “I’m not even sure that her insistence that we obscure everything we did behind all that thin misdirection was worth the effort. But, I did my best to contribute to it. I don’t think my parts will fail.”

“Mm,” Rhoda nods. “I know I don’t fully believe what you and Ptarmigan told me, and I do resent it. I get that it wasn’t your doing, but I still resent the hell out of it. But, for all of us, I am keeping my faith in it, Chapman. Lord help me, but I am.”

“Thank you,” the Physicist says, taking a sip of hir tea.

“What was it you made again?” Rhoda asks.

“Well,” Chapman says, putting hir tea back down. “I call them Timed Scan Autorepeaters and Reliable Adhesive Bone Conduction Speakers with Long Range Receivers. Nathan ordered the components a couple weeks ago. I just put my mark on them, really. The Autorepeaters are old record players hooked up to remote triggers, with specially decorated LPs on them. Powering them was as simple as powering Meg’s tablet. Easy peasy stuff. Mostly just had to fret about shipping time.” Chapman’s head perks up and sie looks off into the distance. “Oop. Gotta trigger the next one.”

Sie picks up hir phone and presses a widget in the quick menu of the lock screen.

—

It wasn’t all lies. Mostly, there’s just a bunch of stuff I didn’t tell you (or Säure) about. And more than a few extra conversations. Don’t worry. Now that he’s out and about, I’ll do my best to keep you up to date.

I started all of this right after our lunch date. A number of things he said tipped me off to just how much he’d been keeping tabs on me, and I couldn’t have that.

[poisonousjk]

https://www.tumblr.com/poisonousjk/763433999726149632

Wait so let me understand something. Do you honestly believe that Jm left all the way from korea to the USA to go film a travel show with Jk in the US, a travel show where we saw Jk riding a bike on the second day, a show where we saw Jimin and Jk go to a brewery (something they both like) amidst other things without Jk knowing in advance? We saw Jm and Jk go to a restaurant on the same day Jm landed and he was still in the exact same clothes he wore to travel but you honestly think Jk didn’t know and he was ambushed? What sense does that even make? So you honestly believe that Jk just found himself in a shoot that he had no idea about whatsoever? Please give Jk more credit that that and I know you don’t care for Jimin but please don’t make him out to be that kind of horrible person because you know he isn’t. Jk literally said Jimin proposed and he agreed. Jimin said he only went at that time to shoot because Jk had some free time inbetween his schedules which is something that would have been designed that way so how on earth do you think Jk was ambushed? Jk was packing his bags for the trip and if you watched that clip till the end you would see that Jimin was shown packing too. So even Jimin didn’t know about the trip to only be packing for it at that time? Let’s say you are right and Jungkook was indeed ambushed, why on earth would he then propose more destinations for them to go to if he was ambushed the first time? This is really not fair to both Jimin and Jungkook and the saddest part of all of this is that it all boils down to a ship. All this vitriol and lies and character assasination against Jimin all boils down to a fucking ship. Jimin is someone Jungkook has known and been friends with for over 10 years. This is someone that Jk himself has mentioned several times that is the most considerate person yet his words mean nothing against your personal feelings. You don’t have to like the show but doing all this and intentionally damaging someone character is not fair no matter what.

I know many of you don’t care for the truth but this is how things really happened and even if you don’t think what is written here is the truth, just use your head. Locations had to be scouted in advance, the yacht they were on had to be have been rented or booked ahead of time, the motorbike had to have been rented ahead of time too. How did they do all these without Jk knowing? How did they know he would have loved to ride his motorbike?

https://x.com/bighit_music/status/1821787058655862896?s=46

I will say again that this is not about some ship war for me I’m not blaming Jm for planning the show or showing up in NY with a full production because whether the show was his idea or not I know Hybe is responsible for the terrible scheduling and based on that yes I do believe it’s very possible that Jk wasn’t given any notice about filming that show at that time.

I know all about preproduction and I watched that show which is why I think it was thrown together especially in NY where they basically had no activities for them to do it was so bad that they went had to watch them go to some store twice and as far as the motorcycle it’s no secret that Jk rides a motorcycle and it takes no time to rent one for a couple days the same with the yacht and the cabins.

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

high infidelity | three

Just between us, did the love affair maim you too? *Noah’s POV* I woke up violently hungover from the night before. My mouth was so dry and the room was spinning. I grabbed a bottle of water before heading to bathroom to shower and throw up whatever else was still in my stomach. I got into the shower and immediately closed my eyes. The hot water started to make me feel more human as I tried to piece together what happened last night. Her.

Now that I was sober a part of me wished I gave her more time to explain herself. I tend to run when there’s any kind of complications, especially when it comes to relationships. Someone I thought I was going to marry really broke my trust when it came to love so I wanted no part in it. This band was my number one priority and I didn’t want anything to jeopardize it. The water started to get cold and that was my signal to get out. I brushed my teeth, changed into a pair of black joggers and a Demon Slayer hoodie. “You alright man?” My bandmate Folio said as I came out of the bathroom. I guess there was no hiding how bummed out I looked. “I don’t know. I think I might’ve fucked up with the girl I was with last night.” He looked up from his phone and turned his full attention to me, “What was her name again? Ellie?” “Elliot” I corrected him for some reason. “After we left the brewery, she told me she was getting divorced.” “Did she tell you why?” I sighed deeply as I threw the rest of my shit into my suitcase, “No. I just walked away from her.” “Seriously dude?” He sounded disappointed but not surprised that I pulled this shit again. “You need to talk to her before we leave, which is in two hours.” “I never got her number … I don’t even know her last name.” Folio sighed as he got out of bed to head to the bathroom. “Look lets just go get some pancakes and figure this out. We’re not leaving until you get in contact with her.” I smirked, “You just said we had two hours.” “We can stretch it a little. Matt won’t care, right?”

That was the one thing I loved about Folio, he always made sure the people around him were happy. I finished packing and went outside towards our tour bus, the fresh air felt amazing as I waited for Matt to come and unlock the bus. From the corner of my eye I could see a poster from our show last night on a boarded up wall. I pulled out my phone and took a photo of it as a reminder of Elliot…

I fucking missed her. Thirty minutes later we were all piled up in a booth at Denny’s as we waited for our breakfast. One thing I hated about my hangovers is that I was constantly hungry. I ordered myself a large plate of pancakes, hash browns and bacon. Most of the guys were quiet as we were all feeling the same after last night, but they did however talk about how they stayed up til 4am with Elliots friends which stung to hear.

“So Noah, what happened with you and Elliot?” Jolly asked me as the conversation died. “She uhh…she was tired so she went home.” I lied as I took a huge swig of my orange juice. I swiftly looked up at the table and saw everyone looking at me, like they knew the truth.  “Ok fine. I might’ve fucked up last night.” “What the fuck did you do?” Bryan said with a raised eyebrow. “She told me she was married …” I crossed my arms and felt my throat tightening up. No way in hell was I gonna start crying this early in the morning. “She was married.” Folio chimed in, emphasizing the was part. “She’s getting divorced. I never let her tell me why. I just panicked and left.” The whole table sighed in disappointment. Nick even threw a hash brown at me in frustration. I put my hood up to avoid the chorus of eye rolls I was about to get thrown at me. “Noah…You gotta talk to her.” Bryan said finally breaking silence. “Look, I have Danielles number. I can ask her if you can have Elliots and you can figure this whole thing out.” “I don’t know if she wants to hear from me.” I muttered as I pushed my food away from me. “Don’t you think it’s worth the risk? I’ve never seen you so hung up on a girl since Sabrina.” I chewed my lip in frustration cause I knew he was right. Maybe I can talk to her or come back up and see her. All I know is that I wanted to hear her voice again, even if it was for the last time. *Elliots POV* I woke up feeling better than I expected, well, hangover-wise I felt okay. It was Tyler’s turn to take Liam to daycare so I laid in bed as last night flashed through my mind like a highlight reel. The silence was deafening and my heart felt heavy as the sobs started up again. I missed Noah so much and all I wanted to do was find him and talk to him. My sobs wouldn’t stop as I remembered how his face fell as I told him I was getting divorced. Noah deserved to know the truth and I don’t blame him for how he reacted at all…I just wish he gave me a chance to explain myself.  My phone buzzed as I walked into my bathroom, it was Danielle. “So what happened last night?” “Nothing…I told Noah I was getting divorced and he freaked out.” I put my phone away and tried to pull myself together. I got into the shower and I could still smell Noah on my skin and I began to cry gently  into my hands. I stayed like that until the water started to run cold. I let out a huge sigh as I quickly washed my hair and body before getting out. A few more tears fell from my eyes as I attempted to do my make up and get dressed. I settled on a pair of light wash Levi’s, checkered Vans, a black t-shirt with some gold jewelry before heading out the door. My lawyer Anita, who was Danielles mom, greeted me with a huge hug when I got to her office. She explained the process to me and how it could take a while, maybe a year for it to officially settle. With the pandemic delaying a ton of court dates, most divorce hearings got put at the bottom of the list. She had already set someone up from her team to serve Tyler the papers sometime tomorrow while he’s at work. After that, we’d get a court date to figure everything out because I refused to talk to him about this alone. I said my goodbyes and walked out of her office feeling light as a feather knowing things were going to change. I pulled out my phone to text Danielle but I had a text from an unknown number that stopped me dead in my tracks. “Hey… its Noah.”

[gingerrroot]

a (re)introduction

hiiii~

you can call me ginger.

US-based, white, cis, disabled, queer, survivor in my 30's.

my expertise lies in trauma and sexual violence, and i studied to be a clinical mental health counselor, but that's not what i am actually doing for work. i work as a bartender at a community-focused nano-brewery, and as an assistant to a local construction/renovation company that focuses on historic buildings. i used to work at a pig boarding facility and foster home, with one of the leading experts in mini-pigs, so i also know a lot about them.

my interests include love, beauty, community, growing, learning, reading, creating, cultivating, nature, eating, sleeping, video games, tv, my pets, pickles, pigs (the animals), astrology, parapsychology, and my husband.

i do my best to tag things appropriately if you filter certain content, for whatever reason. for example, food will be tagged, bugs/insects/creepy crawlies will be tagged, any posts related to violence of any kind will be tagged. if they are my own posts, they will likely also contain a read more.

all newly uploaded media will contain captions or a description in the alt field, or in the body of the post.

my boundaries are below, TLDR: i can and will block you for any reason, don't get overly familiar, rude, or cross my boundaries.

you do not know me. we are not friends. (unless you do, and we are). i am not here to build a parasocial relationship with anyone. not every single aspect of my life, thoughts, emotions, or relationships are fully represented here for you to have a full and accurate view of my life. i am a human, please treat me like one, and approach in good faith, and i will do the same.

please do not message me with trauma dumping, oversharing, or asking for personal information.

if we are mutuals and/or interact regularly, these first two do not apply to you, but i do ask you to Ask before divulging trauma.

if we are mutuals, and/or interact regularly, you are free to ask for other forms of contact, just let me know your username and such bc i won't know who you are if it's not the same.

i am not interested romantically or sexually. do not sexualize me or get sexual with me. yes, i used to sell content. if you are trusted, you can have access to my stash for a price. if i decide to post more content, it'll likely be here for free.

i am no here to debate or argue, please do not follow me bc you want to keep tabs or talk shit. if you've got something to say, please say it, or just block me.

if i am incorrect, misinformed, or have reblogged or posted something that is a scam or bigoted: PLEASE tell me! please engage in good faith. i will happily remove the post and learn more, where applicable.

please do not repost any of my content without my permission! just ask, and credit me (link to the original post, or tag me). if you're not going to write *good* alt text/a *good* image description, you may not repost anything (feel free to copy/paste the original image description and edit it).

you DO NOT have permission to repost/upload any of my old camming content, should you have or gain access to it. please be respectful and keep it where it is.

[plsrl]

It's time for the next sneak peek!

We have many locations on site. There is plenty of opportunity to plot and visit various places in the Miami area. Just so you know, the location of some neighbourhoods has shifted from real-life Miami to suit the site's needs.

Brickell is the financial hub of the city, boasting gleaming skyscrapers and luxurious waterfront condos overlooking Biscayne Bay. It's a haven for professionals with rooftop bars, upscale dining options, and the trendy Brickell City Centre for art and shopping. Don't forget the picturesque Brickell Avenue Bridge, offering stunning waterfront vistas, and nearby Miami Circle, an intriguing archaeological site, add to its allure.

Coconut Grove, a chic neighbourhood by Biscayne Bay, features lush greenery, trendy cafes, and CocoWalk mall. Highlights include Barnacle Historic State Park and the lavish Vizcaya Museum and Gardens. Sailing clubs and marinas line the waterfront for maritime enthusiasts.

Downtown Miami pulses with activity, offering shops and entertainment galore. By day, explore malls and stores; by night, catch a Miami Heat game or a concert at the American Airlines Arena. However, be cautious; with a higher crime rate than the national average, especially for violent crimes, it's best to stick to daytime outings. Keep an eye out for homelessness and panhandling, and stay vigilant against potential theft, even on public transit." Little Havana embodies Miami's Latin spirit, brimming with lively art, cuisine, and culture. Explore galleries, sip strong coffee, and enjoy political debates at Domino Park. Tower Theater offers indie and classic films, while vibrant nightlife features live Latin music for a truly immersive experience. Between Wynwood and downtown Miami lies Liberty Square, Miami's toughest neighbourhood, established with the Liberty Square Housing Project in the late 1930s. Model City, with a population of around 25,023, earns notoriety as the hotspot for violent crime, especially in the drug scene, leading to gun violence and break-ins. Despite increased police efforts, it remains sketchy, particularly after dark. South Beach is Miami's top destination, renowned for its beautiful beaches and vibrant nightlife. Lincoln Road Mall offers diverse shopping, while Ocean Drive showcases stunning Art Deco architecture and alfresco dining. Explore the cultural side at the Wolfsonian-FIU museum for a taste of Miami's unique charm. It's more than just beaches; it's an unforgettable experience! Surfside, a coastal gem, offers a cozy residential community with tall condo buildings lining Surfside Beach, providing stunning oceanfront views. Surrounded by vibrant neighbourhoods like North Beach and Bal Harbour, it's part of the larger Miami metropolitan area, offering the perfect blend of beach and city life in one package.

Let's talk Wynwood, a vibrant hotspot bursting with colour and creativity. Wynwood Walls showcase stunning street art, while converted warehouses host craft breweries and galleries. It's a hub for the young and hip, with boutiques, bistros, and bars. Though property crime exists, it's part of the lively atmosphere. From lower to middle-class homes, Wynwood embraces diversity and creative energy.

[kinlochs]

WORLD STATE DECISIONS.

Companions:

Morrigan — friendly (default romance) Alistair — friendly Leliana — ambivalent, leaning to friendly Zevran — ambivalent, leaning to hostile (distrustful) Sten — friendly Wynne — hostile Oghren — hostile Dog (named Mangy, mocking Morrigan's comment) — friendly

Choices:

PROLOGUE Bought the guard's lunch to feed the prisoner Cured the mabari, named it Mangy to mock Morrigan's remark

REDCLIFFE Aided in Redcliffe's defenses Freed Bevin, paid for the sword Helped Bella start brewery Helped Owen's daughter escape the castle Used Isolde and blood magic to save Connor, not possessed

THE URN OF SACRED ASHES Did not poison the urn Did not kill the High Dragon

DENERIM Defeated Crimson Oars Cleared the Pearl Ser Landry defeated/killed Brought scroll to Sister Justine Gave amulet to beggar Told Bann Sighard about Oswyn Master Ignacio's trials completed Did not complete the crime wave All Mages Collective quests completed

BROKEN CIRCLE Saved the mages in the circle Summoning ritual completed Did not agree to Cullen's request First Enchanter Irving survived

BRECELIAN FOREST Cammen and Ghenya together Failed to save Elora's halla (survival check fail) Lied to Athras about his wife's fate Brought Varathorn ironbark Returned Deygan to camp Made peace

ORZAMMAR Legion of the dead associated with noble house Returned tome Dagna leaves for the Circle Gave Zerlinda money, reunited with her family Lied about Ruck's fate to his mother Helped Orta join the assembly Made Harrowmont king Did not help Burkle open a chantry Killed Branka Destroyed the Anvil of the Void Supported Caridin

LANDSMEET Anora and Alistair rule together Cassian executes Loghain

FINAL BATTLE Performed the Dark Ritual with Morrigan No one was sacrificed to the archdemon

COMPANION QUESTS Found Goldanna with Alistair Alistair softened Alistair becomes king alongside Anora Leliana persuades the Revered Mother to release Sten Returns Sten's sword Romanced Morrigan Killed Flemeth, acquired grimoire Recruited Wynne Recruited Shale Leliana recruited, softened Marjolaine is not killed Recruited Oghren Zevran remains alive

AWAKENING Sacrificed Amaranthine, Vigil's Keep survived Allied with the Architect Nathaniel remains alive Oghren remains alive Velanna remains alive Sigrun remains alive Anders remains alive Justice recruited, disappeared

WITCH HUNT Accompanied Morrigan through the Eluvian

[rphunter]

In the Adirondack's of New York lies a quaint small town, Maplewood. The town is home to a population of 1,000; run on small businesses and the local brewery which the town was forged from. The McKinley family had lived in Maplewood since 1920, when the town was established. The McKinley's had lived in the town for many generations, having started the brewery and the town. Just before the Fall of 2024, the mayor of Maplewood, and the owner of McKinley Brewery was found slain in his home, nestled in the lake side area of Maplewood. Months later, there's yet to be an arrest made and the town has been on edge ever since. Who is behind this murder? Shadows of Maplewood is an Original Character roleplay that takes place on Discord. All members must be 21+. If anyone is interested in joining, please like this post and an admin will reach out to you with the link. ❤️

.