#a little rough around the edges but i'm glad i got it done

[bokettochild]

I cannot BELIEVE no one told me we had an update!!!!!

Anyways, here's my favorite bits as always, because I need to SCREAM about this one!

The rupee acquisition!

I love how JoJo included that traditional *item acquired* pose that all the Links do, and gave it a reason in the comic (Wind insisting he hold it up is just so fun)

Sky's comment though, "don't spend it all in one place". Isn't that a line you get in Skord when you acquire rupees? The cute little easter eggs here are so fun!

I also really love how Legend is taking an instructional role here, both with Wars and the champion!

While also letting his veteran show

and I love that the rest recognize that! Wild calling Legend "an expert" and actually listening to what he has to say, even if he doesn't agree with it.

I also super like the panels of Twilight's interaction with Legend here

Very eldest and middle sibling discussing the youngest child, and I love it. It reminds us that, even for all the cuteness we got between them in the last arc, Twilight still sees Legend as too rough around the edges, enough that it borders on bullying when it comes to some of the rest, and he's trying to curb that. And Legend is LISTENING, because (as I've said a thousand times) Legend respects Twilight and values his opinion. Twilight is his big brother too now and Legend, while still being himself, genuinely seems to care about his opinion.

Twilight's just tense in general, although why, I think is mostly because of Time's sharp scolding in the last update. Even though he's snapping back at the younger ones, he's not very happy to be snapped at right now, and he's eager to get out from under Time's watchful eye.

Time and Warriors

Because while he feels e has grounds to correct Legend for telling Wild what to do, Warriors straight up subtly scolding his protege is different. And the difference is that Legend and Wild and Twi had camaraderie (see Dawn p.3), they're brothers, but Wars is approaching this as a commander, a captain, and Twi doesn't appreciate that. Warriors isn't their leader though, but he's taking that role anyways. (Old habits die hard, I'm sure)

I mean, we all knew Wars was going to confront Wild sooner or later, but I'm glad he was so calm about it. Twilight's ruffled feathers (fur) is more from Time being overbearing, I believe, so it aggravates any slight annoyance Warriors might present.

Even despite some of our suspicions earlier, I like this bit here. Wild was a soldier once, and the captain is very much the image of what he would have worked with before. JoJo mentioned wanting to play with that dynamic, with them bothering having military background, and I think this is that training (hundred years ago though it was) kicking in and making the champion defer to the man who outranks him (as far as they know). Granted, they all call Wars "Captain" but this felt pointed.

I do love Four acting as the word of wisdom here, advising Time, just like he does Twilight, as to the best way to handle a team. it's a reminder that he's done this before, and he knows how teamwork can be, but also that sometimes you need space and working together means working in different areas.

Anyways, here's a couple bonus things that make me happy!

Bunny stance!

(shh, I know he's making a point by stepping on Wild's toes, let me have this)

Wars being so freaking pretty! Dear Hylia help me! (Is it wrong I understand Cia a bit now?)

Wind being the youngest sibling who is Done With Your Chatter

A competent boy being competent (and not as experienced as Ledge, but pretty darn close (if you've played both their games you know))

Showing off items! (I can hear the little ✨da nana na✨)

And of course, I love Time being a tired, overprotective parent (he looks like my mom here, good grief!)

[valley-of-headcanons]

I love Penny and I don't like making her worried, but imagine her just staying up late waiting for the farmer. The farmer doesn't come home till like one am, giving her anxiety from Pam not coming home till late.

Could I request a one-shot or something with this idea?

1:43 AM || penny x farmer oneshot

“what if it was all my fault? what if i drove you to it?” -- drunk, running by lizzy mcalpine

warnings: rough depictions of drinking and neglectful parenting. penny has a panic attack and yells at you a little.

requested by: anon! hi, thank you so much for the request!! this made me so upset to write oh my god, but in a good way! i love requests that let me release some emotions. i feel bad for adding more penny trauma though. anyway! hope you enjoy :)

Mining was a rough job. Yes, it earned the farm a good bit of money. It was physically strenuous, mentally draining, and all around not the best way to spend your day. Penny knew the dangers all too well, and it worried her. She hated when you spent a day in the mines. She was always worried about your health, fighting the monsters that crawled within. She was especially worried on nights like these; nights when you don't come in until one in the morning.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Penny nervously picked at her nails. This habit had been finally beat after getting out of her old house, but it seemed to reappear on nights like this. Nights where it was just past 1:30 in the morning, and there was no sign of her beloved. Who knows what you were out there doing? She tried to trust you as much as she could, but ... with everything from her mom, it was hard.

“Mom ...?” Penny would say, her seven year old frame only covered by a thin blanket on the couch. She had fended for herself that night, stealing chips from the cabinet since Pam didn't make it home until just after 1:30. She was worried sick, shaking as she sat curled up with a stuffed animal.

Pam stumbled into the trailer, sitting beside Penny silently. She didn't say anything, just sat beside her daughter as she finished the bottle she held in her hand. It seems like Gus had to kick her out mid-drink. She always went strangely silent when she was upset.

“I-I'll uh ... I'll go to bed now, I-I was just worried ... I'm glad you're home and safe though, Mom!” Penny said with a big, gap-toothed smile. She tried her hardest to brighten Pam's day, but it always met with disappointment.

Pam didn't respond, waving her off as she laid down on the couch. She crashed, the bottle falling from her hand onto the ground. Thankfully, it didn't break. Penny walked closer, taking the bottle off of the floor. Her hands were shaking, trying not to wake her mom up. She glanced at the clock. 1:43 AM. Was every night going to be like this from now on?

Thunder cracked, snapping Penny out of her thoughts as she gazed at the clock on your bedside table. 1:43 AM. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she bounced her leg. Her eyes stared holes through the door, pulling the blanket onto her lap. She couldn't tell if the shaking was due to her anxiety or the cold.

Thoughts raced throughout Penny's mind. What if you were hurt? What if you were still stuck down in the mines, and you wouldn't make it home? What if you were just out on the town instead, ignoring her? Why would you ever want to come home to her, she's just a pathetic housewife. That's all she'll ever be, right? What if you picked up a bottle that Penny would have to take from you, just like she had done so many times before?

Her thoughts were silenced as she heard the click of the doorknob. Seeing you in the doorway, a little scratched up but mainly unscathed, she didn't know how to feel. She was relieved to see you safe and back again, but she was still upset. It was written all over her. Her pale face, her shaking body, her trembling lip. You saw it almost immediately.

“Hey, Pen ... everything okay? Sorry I was out late, I got a little carried away. There's not enough time in a day ... I didn't expect to see you still awake. You're always pretty early to bed when I'm around,” you said, putting your backpack down on the ground and kneeling in front of her. “... why are you upset, Pen?”

Penny didn't respond for a moment. She calculated her next statement. It came out in a squeak, getting extremely choked up. She just sniffed and stood, trying to walk off. Penny made her way down the basement stairs wiping tears, and you were on your way right behind her.

“Hey,” you said, taking her hand in yours. “Please, talk to me. I'll listen, I promise. Anything that's on your mind, I'm all ears, 'kay?”

Penny couldn't look you in the eye. Her stomach was tied in knots and her voice was trembling. “S-Sorry, I just got all worried- I didn't know where you were and if you were safe and what you were doing- and- and- I was having a lot of bad thoughts and ... I'm sorry! I- ... I don't know why I freak out like this! ... m-my mom, she- ... y'know ... you know her.”

You nodded, listening to her stammer over her words. You gently placed the palms of your hands on her cheeks, holding her face and wiping her tears. “What can I do to stop those bad thoughts? I'll do anything you ask and then some, my love. What do you need me to do from now on?”

She looked into your eyes for the first time that night. They held so much love and care for her. But they held something much more important. They held the motivation that her mother lacked. Penny's eyes started dripping even faster, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling you close. She sobbed into your shoulder for a moment, finally feeling like she was taken care of.

“J-Just ... let me know if you're gonna be out late, or somethin' ... and why, I guess? I- ... I'm sorry for being all needy, I just ... I-” Penny stammered on once more, before being silenced by your thumb pressing to her lips.

“You don't have to explain if you don't want to. I'm here to take care of you, regardless of why. I'll try my best to let you know, and I won't let you worry like that again. You don't have to worry about me, but I know you will anyway. Because you love me. And that's perfectly okay. Is there anything that we can do right now to make it better?” you asked, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

She sniffed, trying to calm herself down. “Can we just ... rest? I wanna lay in your arms and uh- ... forget everything, if that's okay. I don't wanna think about all this stuff anymore,” she said in a gentle tone. She was weak, remembering all of the things she went through made her weak. She needed to rest.

You picked her up and carefully laid her down on the bed. Laying down beside her, you pulled her close to your chest and ran your fingers through her hair. You turned on the TV for some background noise, but neither of you were paying attention to it. She was fast asleep, her head resting carefully on your chest. She was lulled to sleep by the sound of your gentle heartbeat. You stayed awake for a little while, holding her and making sure she felt safe. The love you two shared could push through anything, even something like this.

[dramas-vs-novels]

Okayyy abt the daddy scene in lita

So like does rain suddenly utters out daddy or has it been dancing around in their convos for a while (have they discussed it before?)

And when he does say it, does he say it to kinda be a brat and not study like payu wants him to or does he know that saying daddy will provoke payu and he will get distracted???

And please give details on how payu punishes him🤚

Idk if it makes sense (i love your blog too🥹)

I'm glad you like the blog!!!!!!!

Rain is kind of teasing Payu, because when Payu tosses the architecture books at him, he himself goes to settle in and read a magazine about sports cars.

But it also sort of calls back to an earlier event. In the show, Payu calls Rain after Rain picks his car up and Rain gets snippy, leading Payu to hunt him down at school and grind him in the bathroom stall.

In the novel, Payu calls the next morning. Rain was on a call with his mom (who woke him up, his parents were in Europe on vacation), he hung up, Payu's call came through just then. So Payu got an earful of Rain's sleepy bedhead voice calling him "Momma", which Payu found funny/cute.

So Rain calls him daddy, sees it annoys Payu, goes "Oh, its daddy! Hi daddy!" And Payu decides Rain needs to learn how to address his Dom.

It largely plays out like you see in the show, but in the novel Payu rims Rain first, then fingers him just a little, kind of prepping Rain before sliding in. He deliberately refuses to be rough or hard, because Rain gets off on that manhandling and Payu wants to punish him.

Rain realizes that Payu says he hates being called daddy, Payu's POV mentions in a couple places novel-wide that he hates being called daddy, the special novel mentions he hates being called daddy, but his body responds to it very much. He slams into Rain harder, becomes more feral, etc.

But it is a two-edged sword, because once Rain pushes the daddy button, Payu will literally fuck him until he passes out, and even then Payu might not be done.

The next morning Rain has lost his voice and is barely managing a raspy whisper because Payu made him scream his name all night.

[yanderepuck]

Kinktober Day 8

AND WE'RE BACK FOR A FOURTH TIME. It's that lovely time of the year where I write mediocre smut with no plot for a whole month. So sit your ass down and take a few minutes to read some smut.

As always, kinktober is held by our local Napoleon simp, @xxsycamore

If you'd like to read the last three years, go here

Remember to reblog and tell me what you think

Workplace Sex | Sex in a vehicle

Opening night was over and everything was a success. You and Will are the last ones at the theater, making sure everything is where it should be and to lock up.

You just finished your rounds and you sit on some props back stage, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

"Finally. Done," you yawn and look around, trying to listen to figure out where Will is. "What time is it?" You mumble to yourself. It's got to be close to midnight.

You hear footsteps and start to stand up. Once you are up Will is standing right next to you.

"Many thanks," he kisses you.

"I'm glad to help," you smile. You push one of his longer pieces of hair out of his face.

Will sits down on the floor to relax for a bit. "Did thee enjoy the play?"

"I did!" You sit back down next to him. "It was so romantic. The way the two characters loved each other was beautiful."

You sigh happily and lay back. You look up at the ceiling where there's a bunch of ropes and lights hanging. The lights are dimmed until the two of you have and turn them off the rest of the way.

"I was really surprised by the one scene."

"Hm? Which one?"

He looks at you a little concerned, not sure if it's a good surprise.

"The love scene. In a lot of plays, the writers just allude to them having sex, but you come out and say it. I would have thought the people of this time would find that scandalous."

Will can't help but laugh. Did you offend him? Or did you get it wrong? Are you remembering the play right?

"Writing those scenes is nothing new to me," he lays down on his side propping his head up from his elbow. "I wrote them even in my own time."

"You did?" You are quickly trying to remember all his plays at once, trying to think of another time he has done it.

"It has been some time. For that I have you to blame," he closes the gap and kisses you.

"Me? But why me?"

"You are my muse," you quickly see a smirk on his face before he gets on top of you, kissing you again. "Who else would make me wish to write scenes so 'scandalous'?"

"I can't possibly be that inspirational," even though you are fully aware he only started to write romances again because of you.

"Oh you are," his hands find yours, interlocking your fingers and holding them against the wooden floor. "Why not inspire me more?" His two colored eyes look down at you, teasing you, telling you what to do.

You lean up and kiss him. He kisses you back harder. You match his roughness. No. You get rougher. It becomes a battle of who is rougher.

Will holds your hands tighter. You tilt your head, opening your mouth into the kiss. Starting to moan, your body lifts off the floor to press against his.

You try to break your hands away. The first tug didn't work but the second tug did. He let your hands go so he could touch your body, pulling up your shirt.

Your hands graze across the front of his pants, wanting to feel how hard he is. You hear a hitch in his breath. Your fingers go to the waist of his pants trying to get them off.

The kiss finally breaks when you're both starting to undress.

"Let us use the bed," he sits up, pushing hair out of his face.

"The bed? Isn't it just a prop?" you look over, it's not that far away from you, but is it stable?

"It is safe," he stands up and pulls you to your feet. When the bed isn't needed for a play it is normally covered in boxes and other props. It can definitely hold some weight.

Leading you to the bed, you ditch your shirt along the way. You quickly sit on the edge, your hands getting his pants undone and to the floor. As you scoot back onto the bed you kick your skirt off and watch him lift his shirt over his head.

By the time you are settled he is on top of you, between your legs and ready. He kisses you again and spreads your legs wider. You feel his tip press against you.

You try to move closer, trying to get his tip in you.

"You were so tired, but now," he chuckles.

"J-just hurry."

I'm a swift motion his cock slides into you. You had gotten wet so quickly that he slid all the way in no issue.

Your arms wrap around him, keeping him close. His cock slid in and out with ease. Your moans quickly pick up, echoing through the empty theater.

He lifts one of your legs and thrusts rougher.

"Ahh! F-fuck!"

His hand runs through your hair, pulling it as he goes. The bed creaks under you, but with Will so deep in you it's not even on your mind.

"Seeing your face when you're filled gives me all the inspiration I need."

"W-Will," you moan his name, you nails going across his back.

"Louder," he smirks and leans in to talk in your ear. "The back row needs to hear you."

He tugs your hair more while his other hand grabs your hip, shifting you slightly.

"Will!" You buck your hips up for him, and claw at his back. You start panting

"Good girl," his lips move from your ear down to your neck, starting to kiss you there. "Now say your next line."

He tugs your head to one side while his tongue glides across your neck.

You pause for a moment, not quite sure what he's asking for you to say.

"Y-your cock feels so goo-ahh!" Before you can finish your sentence Wills fangs pierce into your neck. The pain barely lasts a second before you get overwhelmed with pleasure to the point of cumming.

Your nails dig into him while you tighten around him. He keeps going, getting rougher as he feels himself getting closer.

"Ungh..ahh Will, give me y-your cum."

Just as he removes his fangs from you, he thrusts into you roughly, emptying himself into you. His fingers dig into your hip and only release once he's done.

The two of you lay there panting, trying to get yourselves together before you try finding the energy to collect your clothes.

"Don't we have to come back here tomorrow? Why don't we just sleep here," you grumble, not wanting to get up.

Will chuckles and sits up, starting to get off the bed. "I shall call us a carriage so you don't need to walk."

[e-squared-what-is-my-life]

taskicoral one shot?

With Pleasure :)

Today could not have been any more frustrating. Papers were being faxed left and right, orders and jobs came in just as erratically, and Froggy seemed to be just as on edge as everyone else. No one knew what was causing the influx of assassination requests, and while it was good for business, it was terrible for company morale.

Coral sighed with immense exasperation as she stepped through the door to her home, sweat running down her face and making her feel incredibly gross. She ran a hand through her hair, muttering about how much she wished she could have at least one calm day, and making her way into the kitchen. What she needed right now was nothing more than a soothing cup of tea and some time to herself.

BAM!

"Baby, have I got news for you!" Taski screamed, her smile wide and almost manic. She raced around the house in search of her girlfriend, squealing with glee upon finding her. "Guess what I managed to do!"

"Sweetie, I'm glad that you're so happy, but today has been rough and I don't know if I can-"

"We've got a week off from work!" Taski cheered, sputtering in that goofy little way of hers that Coral adored. "No responsibilities, just time for you and me to relax and catch up on anything we've wanted to talk about this past month!"

"Wait, what?! Taski, I can't afford to take a week off! We have bills to pay and groceries to buy, and-"

"Shh, calm down Floral-Coral! I got Froggy to give you paid leave!" Taski cheered, hugging Coral and sighing happily as strong arms wrapped around her as if it was second nature. "I also may or may not have told him you were pregnant to help drive the point home."

"TASKI!"

"Joking! Joking! Froggy knows we don't reproduce like the ENAs. I'm actually kinda glad about that..." Taski took a second to think before visibly and audibly shuddering. "I just told him you've been really stressed lately, and ENA's sweet wife helped drive the point home that stressed employees don't work as well!"

Coral sighed, moving a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose before nodding. "Very well. There's nothing much I can do on the matter at this point."

"Exactly! So, follow me to a room of enchantments~" Taski gently tugged on Coral's free arm, spinning so that she could lead Coral to their shared room.

"What do you have up your sleeves?" Coral asked, unable to hide the amused smirk crawling onto her face.

"Why, arms of course!" Taski replied, giggling at her own joke. "That and a wonderful day of pampering for my sweetheart."

"Oh? Well, I suppose I should prepare myself for a night of enchantment, then?" Coral spun Taski around before lifting her up, staring into the shorter woman's eyes with nothing but pure love and adoration. "Perhaps some much-needed intimacy as well?"

"If it's much-needed, then consider it done." Taski replied, her voice quiet and calm in a way that only Coral was able to experience. There was no need for eccentricities around each other, they could just be at peace. "I plan on spoiling you so much you'll forget what things were like before it."

With a flustered giggle, Coral nodded, pulling Taski in for a slow, passionate kiss before parting with a heavy blush and a wobbly smile. "I'm looking forward to it."

[whentommymetalfie]

ooh can we see the Luca/Tommy/Alfie snippets you've written please?

I'm usually way too self conscious to post anything that isn't edited (which none of them are) but you know what, have this one to start, as a treat! ❤️ And again please bear in mind that this is just a rough, unedited draft with no beginning or end:

.....

The next morning, Alfie wakes first. During the night Tommy has somehow ended up on the other end of the bed, curled himself into a ball the way he so often does. Alfie resists the urge to pull him back into his arms. He can be considerate when he wants to, right, and Tommy, bless him, probably needs the sleep. Alfie can grant him that, even if he’s put himself in that situation. 

He gets up instead. Rubs his lower back as he ambles over to his wardrobe to get dressed. Already half past nine. Tommy moves a little. Alfie goes to his adjacent bathroom and starts filling the bath. He’s left sitting there staring at the water, yawning because thanks to Tommy there hasn’t been much sleep, has there, the little fiend. Once the bath is full, he returns to the bedroom. Finding Tommy right where he left him, he seats himself on the edge of the bed. Decides which spot to kiss and settles for his temple, right where the delicate cheekbone ends. Runs his fingers through Tommy’s hair.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” 

Tommy scrunches his face up and buries it in the pillow. Lets out a noise. Alfie scratches lightly over the back of his neck. 

“I’m thinking about a certain expression about when one’s made their bed.” 

“ ‘m fine.” 

“Sure you are.” 

Not without a struggle, Tommy sits up, wincing and then making a face. 

“Fuck, I feel disgusting.” 

Alfie at least gives him a sympathetic face because while it was Tommy himself who fell asleep before getting cleaned up, he’s still a gentleman. And he could have, technically, done it for him. If he wasn’t -on top of being a gentleman- a terrible bastard who enjoys the thought of Tommy sleeping with his come drying between his thighs.  

“Well there’s a bath waiting for you,” he says. Cradles the nape of Tommy’s neck and kisses his forehead again. “So why don’t you get yourself clean and comfortable while I make you breakfast?” 

He’s just setting the teapot on the table when Tommy comes downstairs, clad in a terrycloth robe, wrapped tightly around himself. Way too big, of course. 

They sit opposite each other, legs brushing under the table. Alfie reading the paper, Tommy having a smoke and occupied with a book. 

“So, that thing you told me last night,” Alfie says and can’t help the grin. “Have to say, it’s peaked my interest.” When he looks over the edge of the paper at Tommy, Tommy’s got a confused wrinkle between his eyebrows. Then he looks down at his book again. 

“Really.” 

Alfie smirks. “Tell me, sweetheart, have you per chance forgotten about that? Seeing as you were quite drunk.” 

“I wasn’t that drunk,” Tommy scoffs. 

“No? Could’ve fooled me. You were unusually vocal. You know, about certain wishes you might have…” 

 Tommy is trying very hard to appear at ease, he can tell. But his silence tells Alfie well enough that he’s trying to remember. 

“And I figured that perhaps now when Luca is coming, we could fulfil that fantasy of yours.” 

Tommy blinks and looks at him, patches of red climbing up nis neck. Alfie smirks at him. 

“I’d have to talk to him first. Think it over, of course. Because while I’m not one to deny you anything, I do worry that perhaps you’d… bite off more than you can chew, so to speak. We need to make sure you’re safe.” 

Tommy turns his attention back to his book, but his cheeks are flaming red now.  

“It’s not like you to be so shy, sweetheart. Nothing to be bashful about, is it? I’m glad you told me. Why else do I live, but to serve you?” 

“Shut up, Alfie,” Tommy mutters, and Alfie leaves him be. But he’s already making plans. 

…

As it so happens, Luca calls from his suite at the Savoy. 

“A little bird whispered in my ear that Tommy is staying with you.”

��Which well informed little bird was that, hm?”

Luca chuckles. “Tommy answered my telegram. Told me he’d be in London. I figured the rest out. Is he there now?”

“No, now when you mention it, I’m not entirely sure where he’s run off to.” 

To the docks outside the bakery to oversee a shipment.

“You don’t have any of your men watching him?” 

Three. 

Alfie chuckles. “Mate, have you met Tommy?” 

“You’re just letting him run loose? Anything could happen.”

“Calm down, this is my city, innit. Tommy’s safe.”

“Perhaps as long as he stays on your corner of it.” 

“Please, everything north of the Thames is hardly a fucking corner.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that.” 

Alfie waves a hand in a dismissive gesture even if Luca can’t see him. “We’ll discuss that later. I’m taking Tommy out to dinner tonight. Seven thirty, the Ritz. And if things… happen to go in a certain direction afterwards, perhaps we’ll take the drinks afterwards at my place.” 

Luca hums. 

“And, as it so happens, Tommy shared a little something with me, which you might be interested in hearing.”

“I’m listening.” 

And Alfie tells him. Luca’s interest is peaked to say the least, although he's not without concerns.

“But couldn’t it be… painful?”  

“I suppose.” Alfie leans back in his seat. Strokes his beard. “Well, it’ll be intense, that’s for sure, perhaps a bit more than he’s counted on. But we’d make sure he’s safe. If it’s something you’d be interested in.” 

“Anything for our Tommy.” And Alfie can tell that he’s got that infuriatingly smug half smirk on his face, but he doesn’t really mind.

…

Tommy is eating soup. Or, barely eating soup. He’s got one of those streaks when nothing seems appetizing, Alfie’s noticed, even if he hasn’t pointed it out. Doesn’t want to sour the mood, not when he’s got a very particular direction in which he hopes this evening will progress. Alfie meanwhile eats a roast leg of lamb, quite aptly made. Tries to tempt Tommy with a bite or two without any success. He’s sat turned slightly towards the room, they’re in a secluded corner of the restaurant, and he’s given Tommy the seat closest to the wall, naturally, as the gentleman he is. And still, Alfie’s the one who catches sight of Luca first as he enters. The waitor nods in direction of their table and Luca moves with his usual suave elegance through the room. Catches Alfie’s eye right away and alright, perhaps he feels a little spark of something when he smiles. Luca makes for a striking sight, that’s just an objective fact and unrelated to any feelings Alfie may or may not have on the matter. 

Tommy notices, of course, quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t turn to look. 

“I’m getting concerned with the quality of this establishment. Apparently they let anyone in these days,” Alfie says when Luca is within earshot, gaining an eyeroll. Tommy’s reaction is the sweetest thing he’s ever seen, for lack of better words. He lights up, eyes glimmering, and when Luca opens his arms in greeting he gets out of his seat and falls into them. Luca wraps him in a tight embrace, holding on for as long as he dares to. Even in this secluded corner, it’s still a public place. Then again they could just be dear old friends reunited after a long absence. 

“I thought you weren’t getting here until tomorrow.”

“Well, I might have wanted to surprise you a little.” 

Luca brushes his hand gently across his cheek. Tommy looks up at him, expression uncharacteristically open, lashes fluttering and cheeks gone a lovely shade of pink. 

“Get a room you two,” Alfie says and hides his smile behind the wineglass. How can he not smile when Tommy looks like that. 

“If you’re not careful, I might,” Luca says. “And I think you in particular be quite disappointed with that development. But I do think that Tommy should finish his dinner.” With a hand lightly on his lower back he leads Tommy back to his seat next to Alfie, pulling his chair out. His hand lingers on the back of his neck for just a moment. 

“Better get you a chair, then,” Alfie says and a quick wave in their waiter’s direction is enough to summon both him and a chair. 

“Can I get you anything, Sir?” 

“A glass of Barolo.” He scans the menu. “And I suppose I could stomach the steak.”  

The waiter removes himself with a polite smile. Luca huffs. 

“God the food options of this country is truly something I have not missed.” 

“Yeah, well we’re happy you’ve decided to grace our shit country with your presence.” Alfie knocks his leg lightly against Luca’s under the table. But then he lets a hand slip down to  gently grip around his knee. Luca smiles faintly. Reaches to take the hand and give it a brief squeeze. 

[thrandilf]

Oof, yeah. People in fandom spaces really love making every parent abusive, and the way they so desperately want to pretend that it‘s canon is exhausting.

I‘m baffled every time I see it. Parent barely raises their voice, and doesn’t immediately whisper an apology?

ABUSE

Parent puts their foot down in any situation where they are at odds with their kid?

ABUSE

Parent grieves a little too hard for a little too long, and isn’t present at 100% capacity?

ABUSE

And it always feels like surface level teen angst that is blown way out of proportion. It‘s especially telling when you notice the pattern of 'the child has never done anything wrong, ever, in their life.' Because at that point the projecting, and not wanting to take responsibility for their own actions becomes painfully obvious. Because blaming the parents is easier than accepting a characters flaws.

(unless these flaws are; 'cares too much' or 'being insecure'. Because those are cutesy enough I guess 🙄)

AND THEN there is the fact that, putting actual mythology aside, Nezha and Red Son are treated as LITERAL ADULTS IN THE SHOW.

*incomprehensible screaming*

Sorry for the vent, I got a little heated. But I‘m so fucking glad there’s at least some people in the fandom who agree that the bastardizing of characters is getting way out of hand.

I'm right here with you anon I've also been a bit heated but YEAH

No what kills me about LMK is how the parents in question may be a bit gruff/rough around the edges, DBK is someone who's generally like that regardless of who he's talking to

But never does Red Son or Nezha even face consequences when they do screw up in their parent's eyes

Like abusive parents will have that undercurrent of Bad even when nothing's gone wrong but here even when THEY DO fuck up there's no consequences

And when they don't it isn't a Toxic Bad dynamic either

AND AS YOU SAY Red Son and Nezha are also both portrayed as adults in LMK and while they do want to make their parents proud and care about their opinion they are on much more of a peer level than someone would be if they were an actual kid/teen

Same with Mei because I've seen bad takes on her parents but in canon it's literally just "we don't see eye to eye/we have our own familial/cultural expectations which you don't share but we love you and are proud of you and we don't care that our entire house is wrecked and that you took the sword we're glad you have it" like HELLO? But people will act like she should cut them off or they're bad parents

Like Mei and Nezha's parents both overtly say they're proud in the limited screentime they have while caring about their children who they naturally have differences with but that's It.

And Red Son's parents are down to just do whatever he wants I guess re food truck family business and it's just. oh yeah I'm sure they don't value his opinion huh like sure DBK likes cooking but this was clearly Red Son's idea.

[rowyn-writes]

Cinnamon and Sugar

Chapter Five

Warnings: Self hate, mentions of abusive ex, mentions of a minor character death, fluff

Characters: Reader, Dean, Michael, Jo

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

You had been living with Dean for five weeks now, and everything felt surprisingly normal. You both woke up early in the morning for work, so you got to have breakfast together. You liked having someone to talk to before going to work.

It was five in the morning as you and Dean shuffled around the kitchen in a comfortable silence. You had made some eggs and bacon for the both of you while Dean got ready for work. Since Dean passed the coffee shop to get to work, he would drop you off, and in return, you made him coffee to get him ready for the day. 

"Mornin' sweetheart." Dean grumbles as he comes out of his room, yawning. His hair was still tousled from sleep. You chuckle softly at the sight.

"Morning, Dean. Forget to brush your hair?" You snorted. Dean laughs as he smooths down his hair.

"Maybe I was trying out a new style, Y/n, ever think of that?" He sniffed, pretending to be mad.

"Aw, c'mon now, you never change up your routine, so I find that highly unlikely. And besides, you can't be mad at me forever, I made you breakfast." You set his plate down on the table, pouring a glass of orange juice for him.

"I got damn lucky to have you as a roommate." He sighed happily as he ruffles your hair before sitting down at the table, tucking into his breakfast.

"I could say the same." You smile as you eat with him. Storm was still asleep on the window seal. Despite Dean buying a cat bed for him to get into his good graces, the cat refused to actually sleep in the bed. He just sniffed at it before going back to what he was doing.

Once you and Dean were finished with breakfast, he took the plates and put them in the dishwasher, starting a load. You went and grabbed your apron for work before heading out the door with Dean, sliding into his beautiful Impala. "I hope you know that if I actually still drove, I'd totally wanna take Baby for a joyride." You joked.

Dean laughs softly, his eyes crinkling up at the edges. "You're more than welcome to drive her anytime you need, sweetheart. I won't stop you."

"Oh, um, nah." You shook your head gently. "I don't really drive anymore. I um, I got into a really bad car crash about a year ago and I don't really drive anymore because of it." It was the first time you had really talked about the car crash with anyone other than Jo or Jack.

"I'm sorry to hear about that sweetheart. Was everyone alright?" He frowns, looking over at you.

"Oh, um, yeah, I just had a broken arm. . . The other driver was okay too." 

Dean could tell that you wanted to drop the subject. "So, I was thinking, you don't work tomorrow, right? And you're done with exams?"

"Yeah, why?" You tilt your head curiously.

"Well," Dean said as he pulled into the parking lot of Chuck's. "I was thinking that tonight we go to my favorite bar and have some drinks, my treat. They're having karaoke tonight too, and I think it would be a lot of fun."

You mulled it over for a moment. You didn't drink much, but you thought this would be a good chance to get to know Dean a little better and let loose some. "I think that'd be a lot of fun, actually." You give him a gentle smile. 

"Perfect, I get off work tonight at 5. I'll pick you up and take you home on my lunch break, I don't want you walking home alone or anything." Dean gives you a boyish grin, the one that you had come to adore. 

"Thanks, Dean, you have no idea how much I appreciate your kindness." And it was true. Dean was kind to you when it felt like you hit rock bottom. Being evicted from you apartment was rough, and you never expected him to offer his home up to you. Even though you hadn't known Dean long, you trusted him, and it seems that he trusted you. You hated to think about where you'd be without him right now.

"Don't mention it, sweetheart. I'm just glad I could help you out. I've been where you've been before. My life has never been put together in the slightest, and there was a time when I had no place to go. I really could have used some help, and I want to be that person for you." He said softly, looking over at you.

"Well, I know I'm not much, but I'm here, and I can be the support you need. We can help each other." You offer him a gentle smile.

"I like the sound of that, Y/n, thank you." You lean over and give him a quick hug. 

"I'll see you on your lunch break, then. Let me go make your coffee really quick." You went in and unlocked the doors, making Dean a brown sugar latte and grabbed him a scone before bringing it out to him. "Have a good day at work." I reach through the window and ruffle his hair before heading back inside to tackle the day.

Jo was the next person scheduled to come in, and you hoped it was one of those rare days that she was actually on time. You had talked to her many times before about her punctuality, but it never seemed to stick with her. She was your best friend, and you didn't want to have to reprimand her, but it seemed that it was going to have to come to that. Thankfully, she was on time today, and you didn't have to say anything to her.

"Thank god my car started." She said as she walked in, clocking in on the computer. "I was scared she wasn't gonna crank. I really need a new car."

"Well, you're here, that's all that matters. Today's a Wednesday, so I'm expecting it to be a good day for us. This is usually our dead day, so I think it should be okay with just the two of us until eleven when Maddison comes in."

The day went off without a hitch, the customers were nice, it was a slow day, and everything seemed peaceful. That is, until the end of your shift. Dean was on his lunch break and he was waiting for you to clock out so he could take you home. He didn't mind hanging out in the coffee shop, as he found it rather peaceful. The front door dinged, signaling that there was a customer inside. "Hey, welcome to Chuck's! We'll be right w-" You broke off as you stared up at the man in front of you. Michael. You could feel your heart pounding out your chest as he glared down at you. You hadn't seen him in nearly two months, what made him want to come confront you now?

"We need to talk." He said gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest. He was 6'3 and he towered over you. It was something that had always intimidated you, especially when you were together.

"We have nothing to talk about. You need to leave." You tried to make your voice sound strong and determined, but it came out as just a small squeak. You hated the affect he had on you. For years he made you feel small, and even after the break up, he could still make you feel that way.

"Oh we have plenty to talk about, Y/n. Like how one day you just changed the locks to the apartment and had all of my stuff sitting out in the hall?"

"And you're just now wanting to talk about this, huh? You had nearly two months to reach out to me and to talk about this, but you picked now as the prime opportunity? When I'm at work?"

"Oh please," He scoffed. "You can hardly call this a job. Besides, I've been busy with other things." Dean's head perked up at the sound of arguing. He looked over at you and Michael. He could clearly tell you were in distress.

"Michael, just fucking leave. You're not welcomed here. Our relationship is over and there's absolutely nothing for us to talk about. You cheated, you were abusive, you were a shitty ass boyfriend. What else do you want me to say? I've listed a billion reasons as to why we broke up and you still can't accept that."

"Don't speak to me like that." He grabbed your wrist. "I guess I better teach you some manners." You try to pull away from his grasp. Before you could even shout for help, a fist connected with Michael's jaw. 

Dean looked pissed as he grabbed Michael by the shirt, slamming him against the wall. "What kind of pathetic coward lays hands on a woman?" He growled as he punched him again. "Come near Y/n ever again, and I swear to God himself, there will not be anything stopping me from beating you within an inch of your sad life. Got it?!"

You had never seen Dean so angry before, let alone get physical with someone. "And what's it to you, huh?! Why the hell do you care for some whore so much? Oh, I get it, you're fucking her, huh?" Michael laughed, throwing his head back.

Dean said nothing in return as he punched him once more before throwing him out to door. "Don't ever come near her again." Dean snarled before going to check on you. "Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he? I swear to God-"

"Dean. . ." You hugged him tightly. "I'm okay, he didn't hurt me. . . Thank you for sticking up for me." You whisper, tears in your eyes. Maddison and Jo watched as Dean wrapped his arms around you protectively. 

"No one's going to hurt my best girl on my watch, I promise you that." He said lowly, gently rubbing your back. "I'm guessing he's your ex boyfriend?"

"Yeah, he is. . . I thought I was finally free of him, but he keeps popping back up like an infectious disease." You were holding back tears, not wanting to cry in front of Dean.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's get out of here." He wrapped his arm around you and led you out to his car. "Do you need me to stay with you? I can tell Bobby something came up." 

You shook your head gently. "No, that's okay. . . I don't want to impose. I'll be okay until you get off work tonight. . . Honestly, I don't even what to think about what just happened. And it doesn't even surprise me that he came here. I guess I was just hoping he'd forget about me." You ramble on, looking at your hands.

"You wouldn't be imposing, sugar." He said, his voice soft and gentle. "If you need me, I'm here, okay? There's not much goin' on at the shop today, so Bobby can afford to be on his own for the rest of the day."

You felt tears brim your eyes as you kept looking at your hands, refusing to look Dean in the eye. "I-I could use some company. . . If t-that's okay." You whispered quietly. Dean tilts your head up gently with his finger so you would look at him.

"I'll stay with you as long as you need, darlin'." He then surprised you by kissing your head. He was so caring and gentle with you, which was something you weren't used to. He drove back to the house, letting you pick the music for the drive. Once you got back, he called Bobby and explained the situation before following you inside. He grabbed some blankets and popped some popcorn. "So, what movie should we watch? Comedy, rom-com, action?" 

"You really don't have to do this for me, Dean. . ." You felt like a burden. You made Dean call out of work just so he could sit here and watch a movie with you. You were an awful friend and roommate.

"You're right, I don't have to, but I want to. . . You're my best friend, Y/n, I want to make sure that you're okay. You've had a stressful day, and you need to unwind a bit. Plus, work was slow, wasn't much for me to do. I'd much rather sit here with my favorite girl and cheer her up." He sits down beside you, draping his arm on the back of the couch. 

You leaned into his side, resting your head on his shoulder as you let the tears flow. "I-I just want to be rid of him. He never let's me have any peace."

"Shh," Dean whispered softly, running his fingers through your hair. "I'm here sweetheart. . . He won't hurt you as long as I'm around, okay?" He kissed your head again, making you feel comfort. Storm jumped up on the couch, settling himself in your lap, purring softly. "See, darlin'? Even Storm's here to help you." That made the tears stream down your face harder. It felt like you couldn't breathe. Everything that you had held in from the break up came bursting out all at once, despite your attempts at pushing it down. Dean held you in his arms as you cried. "Breathe, Y/n, I need you to breathe for me, okay?" He murmured gently. You tried to breathe, but it just came out as choked sobs. Your body was shaking as you cried. Dean let you know that he was here, and that you were safe. You knew he was right. Being in his arms was the safest place for you. You knew that Dean would never hurt you, and that he would do everything in his power to protect you. 

Once you had calmed down, you found your voice. "Thank you for being here." Your voice was raw and hoarse from crying. Dean didn't mention it, he just smiled softly, kissing your temple.

"Of course, sweetheart. What are friends for?" He continued to run his fingers through your hair, as he could tell that's what was keeping you grounded. "We don't have to go out tonight, we can go some other time, I'm sure that you're tired after the day you've had."

You thought it over for a moment. "Actually, I think I still want to go out tonight. . . I just need to feel normal, and show that what he did doesn't get to me." You state confidently.

Dean grins at your confidence. "That's my girl." He let you get ready for your night out with him. You picked a pair faded ripped jeans from your draw, a black blouse, and a black leather jacket. You combed through your hair, trying to find a style you liked, eventually settling on having it braided. You came out of your room with a smile. Dean let out a low whistle as he saw you.

"You clean up nicely, darlin'." He grins. He was wearing a green flannel over a black shirt that fit him nicely and a pair of faded blue jeans. You couldn't help but smile at the compliment. 

"Thanks, De. Shall we get going?" You grab you wallet as Dean grabs his keys.

"Let's go." He smiles, resting a hand on the small of your back as he leads you out the door. You were very aware of his hand against your back. But you shouldn't be thinking about that. Dean was your friend and roommate. You couldn't risk anything. You slid into the Impala as Dean going into the drivers seat. You grinned as the car roared to life. The car was absolutely gorgeous, and you'd love to have an old car like this. That is, if you still drove. Past pains rear its ugly head into your thoughts, making you think of things you wish you could forget. You push it aside. Tonight was about having fun with your best friend.

You showed the bouncer your ID and you were let into the bar with Dean. It was packed since it was karaoke night. You and Dean slid up to the bar, you ordered your favorite drink and Dean got a whiskey and coke. "So, ya thinking about gettin' up there and singing?" Dean smirked as he looked to you.

"Me? Nah, I can't really sing." You shrugged.

"One, that's bullshit. I hear you singing in the shower all the time and you sound amazing. And two, no one who sings karaoke can sing. I'll do it with you if you sing." He offered you up a smile. You could never resist that boyish smile he had.

"I hate you, I hope you know that." Despite your words, you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face.

"Say what you want sweetheart. But hey, you get to pick the song and I can't complain."

"Oh really?" You smirked. "So if I picked a Taylor Swift song, you wouldn't say anything?"

"Hey, I can get down with TSwizzle, okay?" Dean held up his hands in defense. You couldn't help the laughter that racked through your body. 

"You did not just say TSwizzle-" You continued to laugh, Dean joining in.

"All I'm sayin' is that you can pick whatever song you like."

You went up to the karaoke machine, scrolling through until you found the perfect duet for you two. I Remember Everything by Zach Bryan and Kacey Musgraves. "We're up next." You grin as you pull Dean towards the stage. Dean followed you up on stage, grabbing the mic. "Ready?" Dean nods as the song starts. Despite having never heard the song, he did it justice. You never knew Dean could sing. When you sang your parts together, Dean smiled over at you, his eyes gleaming. Once the song was over, he helped you down from the stage.

"Y/n, you were amazing! I knew you had a good voice, but damn, that was beautiful." He praised you, gently patting your shoulder.

"Me? Dean, I had no idea you could sing like that. You were fantastic!" You gently punch his shoulder.

Dean chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck as the tip of his ears turn pink. "Thank you, sweetheart, I appreciate it." He grinned.

"Aaand I think that some of the girls over there found your singing attractive." You chuckled as you looked over to a group of girls that were eyeballing Dean. "You should go talk to them!" You encouraged.

"Nah," He shook his head. "This night is about you and me, and celebrating our friendship." He gave you a smile. You couldn't help the small butterflies you felt in your stomach. Instead of going off with a girl, he wanted to spend time with you. But at the same time, you felt bad, because you felt like you were keeping him from having a fun time.

You felt like screaming at yourself, because you always did this. Every time there was something good going in your life, you found a way to get in your head and overthink things. You wished you could turn those voices in your head off. Sometimes those voices got particularly loud, especially in times like these. You tried to push them away and have a good time with Dean, but you couldn't help it.

"You okay, Y/n? You got really quiet all of a sudden." Dean said softly. Damnit, he knew you too well.

"Oh, yeah, it's um, it's just been a long day, y'know?" You cleared your throat, looking up at him.

"We can head home if you'd like?" He suggested, tilting his head to the side.

"No no, I'd hate to be a bother. You look like you're having so much fun, and I don't want to ruin that." You spoke softly.

"Sweetheart, if you're tired or you just don't feel up to being here anymore, you can tell me. I won't be upset. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or feel like you have to stay for my sake. Besides, I don't care where we are, as long as we're together, I'm happy to spend time with you."

You gave him a soft smile. "I just don't think I'm in the right headspace right now." You sighed. "It's just been a long day with a lot going on. . . I promise to make it up to you."

"Don't worry about it, Y/n, we can just spend some time together and watch a movie if you'd like?"

"I'd really like that, De. . . Thank you." You whispered gently. Dean ruffled your hair and went to pay for the tab. You rode home in a comfortable silence as Dean hummed along to the radio. You were stuck in your own head again, per usual. You were leaned against the window, feeling the cool glass on your cheek.

"Are you sure everything's alright, sweetheart?" He asked, looking over to you. "You've been awfully quiet."

"I dunno, I'm just really struggling mentally today. After everything that happened this afternoon, I just feel so. . . empty?"

"I get it darlin'. What do you need? Do you need some time by yourself, or do you wanna curl up on the couch with me and watch some Dr. Sexy MD?" He questioned, his voice gentle.

"I think that spending some time with you could help. . ." You couldn't help but smile. You felt safe with Dean, and even though you were having a tough time, you knew that everything was going to be okay as long as you were with him.

[adidastain]

i have something to tell you

90s matt stone x ftm reader (blurb)

a/n: this is something i whipped up real quick for my own comfort cus i've felt so shitty the past few days. i'm actually really glad i wrote this cus not only did it make me feel better but i also don't hate it and it's my first time writing ftm reader (i'm ftm. idk if you could assume from my prns (he/him) despite the fact that i primarily write fem reader fics but yes i am ftm) so this is for all my t-brothers in the mattrey fandom <3 obviously if you're cis you can read it all you want i love u all no matter what :) enjoy

other notes: some suggestive dialogue at the end, all lowercase, 2847 words

--

“hey,” matt said to me. i was standing in the kitchen, washing dishes from the night before. i hated touching the food grime stuck to the porcelain, but it needed to be done.

“hi,” i said, putting on a small smile and leaning sideways to accept his kiss to my cheek, which he held for a few seconds. i felt my face grow warm. he was so good at making me blush. 

my smile quickly faded, however. something had been on my mind all day that kept me constantly terrified. i just hoped that he would make me feel better, enough so that my gloom would go away and i wouldn’t bring his mood down too. 

matt set his coat and stuff down on the kitchen table, before coming back over to me and wrapping his arms tightly around my waist. i leaned back against his broad chest, tilting my head as he kissed the crook of my neck. 

“how was your day?” he asked me. 

“fine,” i hummed, scrubbing the inside of a plastic cup. 

“not,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows. “you know i know that ‘fine’ means not fine.” 

“it was fine,” i insisted, looking at him. “just uneventful.” 

“m’kay,” he said, still suspicious. “i missed you a lot.” 

“i missed you too,” i sighed. that was true. i missed him more and more every day. nothing in our lives had changed, i just felt like he was slipping away from me solely because i was the distant one. i just tried to cherish what i had before it would all go to shit. i was terrified. 

“wanna watch a movie tonight?” he asked, kissing my ear. i felt matt’s hand travel down my waist, rubbing over the swell of my ass and giving it a light squeeze. 

i giggled, pushing him away with my back. i was relieved that he was still able to make me laugh and feel all warm inside. i loved him so much. 

“hm?” he hummed, pushing his question. 

“sure,” i said, washing the dish germs off my hands before drying them off with a towel. 

…

we ended up choosing a pretty depressing movie. neither of us knew it would be such a rough watch, but we got through it and i felt pretty shitty. matt pulled me closer as the credits rolled, most likely able to see that i was troubled. 

no words were said; he just caressed my face with both hands and looked into my eyes. i stared back, taking in the feeling that it gave me to share that contact with him. it would be gone soon, i was sure of it. that look of love he gave me would soon turn into one of betrayal, disgust, disappointment. 

of course, the thought brought tears to my eyes, which he immediately noticed. 

“i’m sorry,” he apologized. “i didn’t know the movie was like that. i’m sorry.” 

“it’s okay,” i exhaled, swallowing harshly through a tight throat. “i’m okay.” 

i giggled slightly, hoping to rid him of his concern and make myself feel a little better too. matt buried his slender fingers into my hair, holding my head close to his shoulder. for a moment, i sat there, letting him hold me. my hands tentatively made their way around his neck, pressing him against me as i felt a sob threatening to escape me. 

“i don’t think you are,” he sighed, his voice cracking. that pushed me over the edge. i broke down, tears soaking spots in his shirt as i buried my face in his shoulder. 

matt adjusted so that his arms were wrapped completely around my waist, holding my body flat against his. his lips pressed against my neck and cheek periodically, warm and soft. 

“talk to me,” he told me, his hand trailing up and down my back. “you haven’t been yourself lately.

i didn’t understand what he meant by that. i guess he could tell that i had been feeling down, but it was ironic. i’d been feeling down because i was terrified to tell him what i’d discovered about myself. how everything i hated about myself throughout my entire life was all because of one thing that i was absolutely petrified to share with him. it was myself, yet he had no idea. 

“i don’t want to make you upset,” i sobbed, gripping the fabric of his t-shirt as if he were trying to get away and i didn’t want him to leave. 

“baby,” he said softly. he smiled, looking into my eyes. “i don’t want you to be upset either. whatever it is, it’ll be better if we talk about it.” 

maybe he was right. maybe we could work it out. maybe he would be willing to give himself a different label and call me by a different name, if we could work it out. 

i sniffled, staring into his eyes and wishing he could just read my mind so i didn’t have to put it into words and fuck everything up. i could ruin my entire life with my next words.  

matt sat patiently, looking at me with concerned yet infinitely loving eyes. i spent my last few seconds with those eyes taking in their beauty, relishing the feeling they gave me when they peered into me with dilated pupils and relaxed lids. just a few more seconds, and i may never get them back. 

“i hate myself,” i choked, practically whispering. matt’s face dropped, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“you-“ 

“i’m not finished,” i squeaked, my voice wavering as i felt tears welling again. “please believe me when i say… i-i love you more than anything, matt. you are so important to me a-and-“ 

i cut myself off when i felt his thumb wipe a tear away from my eye. that only made me cry more. 

“you’re killing me,” matt swallowed. “i’m getting really worried.” 

“i’m sorry,” i said, nearly gauging my eyes out with how harshly i wiped my tears away. 

“i’m listening, baby,” he whispered. “i promise.” 

i took a deep breath, picking my fingertips as my entire body trembled. here we go. 

ruining my life in 3, 2… 

“i’m tired of being… of being a-a girl,” i mumbled, my voice faltering. yep. it was over. gone. finished. 

i first noticed his eyebrows furrow deeper than i’d ever seen them. he cocked his head slightly. he did that whenever he was confused. 

“what are you talking about?” he asked cautiously, meeting my eyes. concern still lingered in his gaze. i still felt the love there, but i hadn’t said entirely what i needed to say. 

“i don’t wanna be a girl anymore,” i sniffled, looking down as i spoke. “i don’t think i’ve ever wanted to be a girl.” 

silence filled the space between us as matt seemed to be deep in thought. “so…” he pondered out loud, not entirely sure what he was going to say, just as i was. 

“i’m… i’m trans. transgender. i-i think,” i said, swallowing harshly. my eyes burned from drying tears. my body just shook, saving the rest of the tears for later. 

i noticed matt’s expression relax for the most part, one small wrinkle still sitting between his subtly furrowed brows. he always sort of had a resting angry face, but now he looked frustrated for real. he was staring into space, just sitting there, thinking.

i looked away from him, pulling away slightly so that i wasn’t sitting on top of him anymore. i felt cold; i’d ripped myself away from his warmth before i gave myself the chance to cherish it. 

there it was before me. my life, broken and shattered into millions of pieces. 

“can… can i ask you-“ he started. 

“yeah,” i exhaled. i didn’t realize that i’d been holding my breath. 

“how, um, how do you know that?” matt asked softly. “i just mean-“ 

“it’s fine,” i swallowed. “i-i just… i don’t- i don’t know how to explain it. i-it’s… you know how i like wearing baggy clothes and overall just, y’know, men’s clothes?” 

matt nodded, staying quiet. he had his listening face on. jaw clenched shut, chewing on the inside of his cheek, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. 

“it’s like, i don’t… i don’t wanna be a girl dressing like a man. i wanna be a man dressing like a man. even as a kid i wanted to wear boy’s clothes,” i explained. my voice cracked towards the end of my sentence, tears filling my eyes once again. 

i knew matt had little, if not zero experience with this, and to be honest, i barely did myself. and based on some of the stuff i’d seen and heard from his work, it didn’t seem like he ever wanted to have experience to begin with. 

“so… would you… change your name and stuff?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck. 

“mhm,” i hummed, sniffling. i wiped my eyes, cringing at the stinging sensation. 

“what name are-… w-what name would you prefer?” he asked, his voice softer than i’d ever heard it. 

did he really want to know? part of me didn’t want to tell him. part of me felt scared to death that he would tell his friends and they would mock me. 

“i, um… i like y/n,” i mumbled. i felt a small smile trying to creep up my face. it felt good to finally say that out loud. “feels good. i’ve always liked that name.” 

“y/n?” he repeated. 

i nodded, swallowing. i finally worked up the courage to look at him again. i felt better, but i still felt dread over what he was going to say next. 

“come here, y/n,” he said, beckoning me over with his index finger. good god. it felt unbelievably good to hear him call me that, regardless of whether what was to follow. 

i climbed back over to him, melting in his arms. matt ran his fingers through my hair. i could feel his heartbeat, racing nearly as fast as mine. he still felt just as warm as he did a few minutes ago. 

i let one hand caress his back while my other hand played with one of his curls on the back of his head. he let out a heavy exhale, his body relaxing under me. 

“i love you so much,” he said quietly in my ear. “you know that.” 

i nodded, pulling him closer. i said “i love you too,” but it was practically silent and only came out as a breath.

“i wish i knew more about this,” he said, his own voice starting to waver slightly. he placed a small kiss on my ear, moving my hair out of the way. 

“it’s okay,” i choked. i closed my eyes and pressed my face against his hair, letting his soft curls brush against my skin. “i understand if you… if you don’t wanna have to- …y’know.” 

“have to what?” he pressed. “call you my boyfriend?” 

i nodded. matt looked at me, wiping my tears away again. i could see his own eyes watering slightly, even through his glasses. my lip quivered as i remembered why i was so scared in the first place. 

 “i was so scared,” i laughed slightly, gulping. 

matt held both of my hands with one of his, the other reaching up to caress my jaw as he slowly leaned in and placed a soft, passionate kiss on my lips. 

even after letting go, his face lingered close to mine. we remained still, breathing each other in for a moment. his hand slipped away from my face, lowering to meet the rest of the bundle of hands that sat in my lap. 

“i didn’t want to lose you,” i whispered, barely audible. “i didn’t want to tell you ‘cause i was so scared that you would leave a-and-“ 

“i still love you,” he said. he gave me a small smile, showing off his dimples. “i don’t want to leave you. ever. not in a million years. you’re the brightest part of my entire fucking life.” 

i started crying again, hiding my face from him. i really thought he was going to be upset. i was so sure he would push me away. i guess i just didn’t read him correctly. 

“and who the fuck cares if i’m gay?” he laughed, pulling my hands away from my face. “everyone pretty much already believes that i am.” 

“but are you?” i asked, still sobbing. “there’s a difference between saying you’re gay and actually being gay.” 

“yeah, i mean-“ 

“it’s not a joke,” i swallowed. “are you attracted to men?” 

matt’s face dropped slightly. i didn’t mean to, but i had snapped at him a bit. my arms and hands were still shaking. i felt bad for interrogating him like this, but i would have preferred to get my heart broken now than later on, after thinking that i might have been spared of it. 

“i…” matt choked slightly. he cleared his throat. i saw tears welling in his eyes again. “i don’t know.” 

i sighed, looking away. i put my face in my hands again, taking a deep, shaky breath to keep more tears at bay. 

“but that doesn’t mean i can’t try new things, right?” he said softly, running a hand through my hair. i lifted my head up, tucking some stray strands of hair behind my ears. 

“i guess,” i squeaked, swallowing harshly. i looked at him, unintentionally giving him somewhat of a puppy-eyed look. i reached towards his face, carefully removing his glasses so that i could wipe a tear away from his cheek. matt turned his head to kiss the palm of my hand, before grabbing it and pressing it against his face. 

“i’m not going anywhere,” he mumbled, his words muffled by my skin against his mouth. smooch. “whether i’m gay or not, you can’t get rid of me.” 

i smiled slightly, looking down as i felt heat rise in my cheeks. “i don’t think it works like that,” i said. “but okay.”

matt smiled and let my hand rest on his cheek. i swallowed, scooting a little bit closer so i could lean forward and softly kiss him. 

the kiss lasted a few seconds, breaking every so often to we could just breath each other in and look into each other’s eyes. i still held his glasses in my hand, resting in my lap as my arms and legs stopped shaking so much. 

matt’s fingertips grazed my jaw. “i love you so much, y/n,” he said softly into my lips. i smiled at the sound of my name in his voice, speaking so softly yet passionately. 

“i love you more,” i said, trying not to grin from ear to ear. 

“is there anything else you wanna tell me?” he asked, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “anything else on your mind?” 

i shook my head, pecking his lips. i curled up in his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

“okay,” he hummed. matt pushed my hair away from my face. 

“can i tell you who i wanna look like?” i asked, grazing my fingertip back and forth on his neck. 

“who?” he asked, putting his glasses back on. 

“george michael,” i mumbled, grinning slightly. 

matt giggled. “he is a beautiful man.” 

i laughed, shoving him playfully. matt just grinned, caressing my chin and pulling me in for another, much deeper kiss. 

i exhaled, relaxing my body for the first time in weeks as he kissed me over and over. it was dizzying, but i loved it. all the fear i held inside for so long about never being able to feel his lips on mine or his body pressed up against me ever again was behind me. that was the best thing i could have asked for. 

i let him slip his tongue between my lips, taking his time exploring the inside of my mouth and feeling my own tongue against his. i heard him him slightly into the kiss, leaning deeper into it. 

suddenly, he pulled away, causing a string of saliva between our lips to break. 

“what do you say we wear that name in?” he purred, biting his lip and stroking my jaw. there it was, that look of love. the one i was so sure i would never see again.

i rolled my eyes, feeling myself blush heavily. i made an “ugh” sound and pushed his chest away. 

“i’m serious,” he grinned. “i told you i would try new things.” 

“i know, i know,” i said, standing up. it had been quite a few days since we last… had fun. i’d been so distant and down in the dumps that i never really felt like it and i guess he could kind of tell that was the case. “c’mon.” 

i could have sworn i heard him giggle in excitement as he too stood up from the couch and followed me towards our bedroom, barely able to keep his hands to himself during our short walk down the hallway. 

[cosmiccrushes]

Not Part Of The Crew

Law x OC || 2.9k word chapter; 18k total

notes: i'm glad i finally allowed myself to get into writing because it's been such a gift to have a creative outlet right now. without worrying about how good or not good of a writer i am (mostly- easier said than done sometimes). hope everyone has been able to be with their community, to find the love, safety and gentleness you so so deserve

CW: physical violence, blood, vomit

Read the rest here!

CH 8

After the jostling trip aboard, Rue would like nothing more than to pour herself out of this apple crate and stretch out her sore, cramped limbs. Instead she rolls an apple in her palm, listening to the unending parade of voices and footsteps past her hiding place, grating against her nerves like nails scratched down a chalkboard. Hours, it's been hours and still she hasn't been left alone long enough to crawl out of this crate. She knows she's been loaded on a ship. Undoubtedly has the bruises to match the banging route from the dock to the inside of whatever cargo bay she’s in. 

She munches on an apple, hoping the crunch and tart juices will distract her from her screaming muscles. The first pings of panic started long ago, and with every voice that drags itself closer to her, it pulses more urgently. At least these apples will provide even better ammo than mangoes when she is inevitably discovered. Because she’s pretty sure she will be discovered. That, despite her skill at sneaking into cargo, her luck at sneaking out is majorly lacking, perhaps non-existent. At least the Heart Pirates had the decency to discover her quicker than this. 

As if summoned by her thoughts, footsteps pound closer. Then a voice right beside her. “These were the apples, yeah?” A gruff, affirmative grunt in response. The sound of something wedging under the lid of her crate. Rue drops the apple pressed to her lips and clenches two unbitten ones in her fists. Call it survivor’s intuition, but Rue knows these people will not be as accommodating as the Heart Pirates. Can feel it in the ache of her bones from how they tossed their cargo around. People who had no time, no patience, no gentleness to tend their own sustenance were probably not people who would have time, patience or gentleness for a stowaway. Rue knew all too well that to some, apples and people were no different. Both served functions and it didn’t matter much if either got a little bruised. Rue can’t seem to shake the dark beast that settled around her in that alleyway earlier. It’s talons digging in and threatening to draw hopelessness like blood from her veins.

Fingertips slip under the wooden lid, prying away her false sense of safety. Rue doesn’t wait to confirm what kind of people they are. She springs up as fast as she can, sending the top of the crate flying. The person on the other side leaps back with a startled yelp of surprise. Rue uses the distraction to fling an apple at their face. From the snarl of pain she knows it connects, but she’s busy hauling herself over the side of the box to land in an aching heap between the cargo and one of the ship’s walls. Ignoring the stab of pain in her knee, she yanks herself up using the crate’s edge for balance. The rough rim bites splinters sharply into her fingers. She arms herself with more apples, scooping them out of the crate as fast as her body will allow. Hurling them at every target her chaotic movements allow her to clock.

At least five individuals shout exclamations and commands at each other, at her. There’s a buzzing in her ears that renders their words unintelligible. An approaching swarm, ready to descend upon her the second she runs out of apples. Her arm cocks back to launch another fruit as the first sting lands. Stars burst behind her eyes and her vision swims as she slumps forward against the crate, clinging desperately to hold herself upright. She didn’t notice the form creeping around in the small gap behind her, but she’s sure as hell aware of them now. Rue’s fingers scrabble for another apple, but it’s no use. A body crushes against her, forcing her ribs viciously against the wooden side of the crate. A hand fists into the back of her jacket, yanking her back against them, and a sword presses to her throat. Rue fights back the urge to vomit as the nausea from the blow she just took to her head crashes over her. With a blade pressed against her neck, she knows any movement now could easily be her last. The Heart Pirates didn’t draw their blades on her, she thinks dimly and absurdly.

“What the hell is this?” Someone demands, fingers pressed against a split lip, which Rue smirks upon with satisfaction. 

“Who are you?” The man gripping her questions. 

“Apple delivery,” Rue replies innocently. 

The sword at her neck presses harder, drawing a thin trickle of blood in warning. “Who are you?” He repeats. 

Rue grinds her teeth together. She didn’t cooperate when it was Trafalgar Law asking questions, she isn’t going to cooperate now. 

The man with the split lip is watching her intently. His eyes widen and Rue’s stomach drops. “Wait a second!” He says. “I know you! You’re wanted by the Fang Pirates.” A folded paper is pulled from a pocket and Rue’s wanted poster is passed amongst the group. A ripple of nods from the other’s as recognition sweeps through them. 

Fuck, Rue thinks. That blasted bounty. 

A fist in her hair yanks her head back so the man holding her can study her features. Rue’s eyes water from the brutal strain on her roots. “I’ll be damned. We just saw your picture up at Bell Island with the promise of a reward.” He sneers at her. “Let’s get her to the captain.” With that he shoves her roughly at a pair of people to his left and barks, “Bind her hands.” 

***

As Rue is led through the ship, she surreptitiously flexes her wrists in their bindings. But the rope rubs abrasively into her skin, making it clear there’s no leeway to wiggle her way out. At least they bound her arms in front of her, not behind. At this point, Rue will take whatever silver lining she can find. This is bad. Rue knows this is bad. Yet her mind doesn’t spin with escape plans. No, instead, it conjures up an image of how Trafalgar Law would look at her if he could see her now. His eyebrow cocked with a distinctly dry I-could-of-told-you-so tilt. Not that she’s ever going to see Law again to confirm his reaction. That would require her to remain alive and far away from Malax Fangle- all conditions that are becoming statistically more unlikely as she is marched towards the ship’s captain.

As she crests the steps onto the ship’s deck, the warm rays of afternoon sun do nothing to combat the chill that whips through her when she sees the Jolly Roger flying overhead. She doesn’t recognize the banner, not that it matters. There’s no mistaking what it means. 

Pirates, fucking pirates. Rue casts her eyes skyward in exasperation with herself, the universe. Unfortunately, her track record for picking cargo to hide in that doesn’t get picked up by pirates is zero for two. Are there even merchants in these waters? She thinks angrily, glaring at the flag flying overhead. If these had been merchants or sailors, maybe she could’ve outwitted them, bought herself enough time to escape. They likely wouldn’t be accustomed to hauling prisoners, might make mistakes she could capitalize on. But pirates? Pirates dealt in violence. Their currency was cunning and cruelty. Any craftiness she had to spend here, probably wouldn’t buy her much. Especially not with the promise of a reward and currying favor with the feared Fang Pirates. 

Rue hadn’t been serious in her threats to sink Law’s ship or throw herself overboard, but suddenly it wasn’t sounding like such a bad plan. Maybe she’d make friends with a kindly shark who would be delighted to transport her to safety. That seemed far more likely than Rue convincing a crew of pirates to let her go rather than collecting on the promise of gold. Trafalgar Law let you go, she reminds herself. Strange things do happen. Maybe this pirate captain would surprise her by carrying a massive vendetta against Malax Fangle. And maybe Trafalgar Law will magically spring out of the sails and save your sorry ass.  

Rue is shoved roughly to her knees at the captain’s feet. Her ribs groan in protest and she bites down on a whimper.  

“What’s this?” The captain asks tersely. A tall, slight man with a short brown beard. 

“Found her hiding in the cargo, sir. She attacked us. She’s got a reward out for her capture and return to the Fang Pirates, Captain.” 

The captain stares down at her with interest and a malicious twist of his lips. “You don’t say?” One of his crew hands him her bounty poster. “Well, well. Best not to keep a man like Malax Fangle waiting. Set a course to Ashita Island and-” He glances back down at Rue. “Lock her up in the brig. No food, no water.” Rue grits her teeth. “Wouldn’t want her getting it in her head that she’s a guest here.” Rue hates the way they’re discussing her fate like she’s not even there. Starving and dehydrating her, a nasty tactic to ensure she has no energy to fight back. 

Rough hands grip under her biceps, hauling her back to her feet. Rue feels her window of opportunity to escape closing over her as sure as if she had thrown herself overboard to sink beneath ocean waves. Fear flooding her mouth and nose, choking the breath out of her lungs. She can’t be taken back to Malax. He will kill her. Or worse. Fangle doesn’t let people who challenged him live. And he doesn’t let them die swiftly. The one thing that bounty poster dangling from the captain’s hand tells her is that Malax wants her back alive. No pirate is going to risk losing their reward- or pissing off Fangle- by killing her. Which means Rue is free to risk her life, her own damn self. 

Rue waits until they’re halfway back across the deck before she throws her body to the left. Using her momentum and weight to crash against the pirate still gripping her arm, sending them both careening to the ground. Rue blocks out the howl of pain from her shoulder, rolling into a low crouch. She quickly scans her surroundings, aware she is probably making terrible decisions currently. Aware she’s concussed and that has to be a mark against her governing faculties. Rue isn’t a fighter. She can be scrappy, sure, but there’s no way she’s successfully taking on a ship full of pirates. She’s not a bad swimmer, but she has no idea how far she is from any land nor can she swim with her hands tied up.

As surprised shouts rise around her and the pointy ends of swords thrust her direction, Rue makes a choice. She releases a guttural, rageful growl that bares her teeth and charges the next pirate closest to her. Her sudden aggression seems to surprise the man and he draws his sword away so she doesn’t impale herself. Finally, something works out in Rue’s favor. Using the shoulder that hasn’t recently slammed into a hard surface, Rue smashes into the pirate. Throwing her elbow as hard as she can into his stomach, the rope rubbing burns into her wrists.  

He grunts and his grip loosens on his sword as he doubles over. Rue latches onto the hilt, wrenching it from the winded pirate’s hand. One of her nails tears, breaking too far down. She lurches towards the side of the ship, plunging the sword as hard as she can into the deck. Mercifully, it wedges into the boards. Rue drags the rope bindings against the blade, nicking the tender flesh of her forearm in her wild haste. As the rope drops to the ground, Rue narrowly dodges away from a fist sweeping in her direction. She scrambles towards the ship’s railing. No longer caught off guard by her assault, the pirates descend, closing in an organized semi-circle around her. 

Rue heaves herself up, swinging a leg over the railing. The shark it is, she thinks morbidly through the feverish haze in her brain. She’s either about to make the single stupidest decision of her life- which is probably going to be cut incredibly short- or she’s done the only thing to give herself a chance at survival. She’ll never get the opportunity to learn whether it would’ve been a sympathetic sea creature or a predictable drowning, though, because an iron bar of an arm wraps around her waist. 

Momentarily, Rue is airborne, then she’s flung to the deck, her head smacking hard enough against the planks that her vision goes fully dark. Her teeth clack together and she tastes blood in her mouth. She frantically blinks back the black shadows crowding her sight. She makes a fraught attempt to drag herself back towards the ship’s side, but a boot savagely stomps down on her hand. She curls into herself as another boot barrels into her stomach. This time she does cry out in agony. It’s the last sound she hears before the silence of unconsciousness washes over her. 

***  

Rue doesn’t know how long she’s out. When she wakes up, her wrists are bound in iron shackles and a chain around her ankle tethers her to the floor of a small cell. Every nerve in her body pulsates in a way that has Rue wondering how long the kicks kept landing after she passed out. Breathing hurts, her head throbs. She knows she must have a concussion and broken ribs. 

Rue refuses to blame herself for her half-baked escape plan. What else could she do but try? When she ran from the Fang Pirates, she knew she’d have to keep running. That the possibility of being dragged back to Ashita Island would chase her like shadows after a setting sun. If she was to be pulled into the dark, she’d sink her nails in deep and leave a trail of gouges in her wake. The only evidence that she ever existed at all. There certainly weren’t going to be people mourning her. Carlo was the only person who cared what happened to her and she’d already failed to keep him safe. After he was gone, Rue was left alone to pick up the pieces. Only there weren’t any pieces to pick up. She’d never made an effort to be closer to the people of Ashita Island. She kept people at arm’s length and called it self-protection.

Then, Carlo stopped breathing. His blood soaking into her shoes, sinking into the soles of her feet, leaving behind an uncleanable film of failure separating her from the feeling of ever being grounded again. Leaving her with a lonely answer to her foolish question- why would she expect the villagers of Ashita Island to think of her as anything other than another pawn in Malax Fangle’s schemes? She wasn’t a part of the town, not in any way that mattered. She’d designed her life that way. To get what she needed to survive, never an ounce more and never through any means other than her own. 

Guilt throbbed through Rue like a bruise, settling in the cracks on her ribs and the hollows of her lungs where a deep breath couldn't reach. For a year she’d appeased Fangle to keep people safe. But all she’d bought was a few more grains of sand in a steadily draining hourglass. When she realized this, rather than staying and actually trying to do something meaningful, Rue had chosen to run. She abandoned Ashita Island. Told herself she couldn’t really abandon something that was never hers to begin with. Told herself she’d find a way to make Malax Fangle pay. 

But what might it have been like, if she'd stayed? If she made an effort to know the people on the island and help them survive, help them fight back against the Fang Pirates’ foothold? What would it have been like if she let them know her? If she’d stopped thinking that she could- or should- do it all herself?

Rue tries to pull herself up into a slump against the ship wall, but her body simply won’t acquiesce. The attempt stirs up the nausea she felt earlier and she just barely props herself on an elbow to vomit to the side of where she lays. Each heave drives spikes of agonizing pain through her. When the contents of her stomach finally run out, she collapses back to the floor, tears streaming down her face. A blurry murk creeps in at the edges of her eyesight. Rue welcomes it, lets it lap over her, lull her into a mournful melody of self-pity and shame.

No, people didn’t know her. She didn’t let people know her. Maybe this was her karma. To be sitting in this cell, thinking about another offer of help she refused, another opportunity to be known she didn’t take. And if some of her last thoughts in this life were woeful wonderings about what might have been if she’d let Trafalgar Law know her? If she’d accepted that tentative help he’d extended to her? Well, it would be a misery she deserves. Made all the more maliciously ironic by the knowledge that Trafalgar law was exactly the kind of person she needed right now- a doctor. 

[veilstr1der]

extremely detailed baldur's gate 3 companion asks, taken from here & converted into a repost, don't reblog dash prompt .

general

where is your muse recruited? feynirin can be missed as he's found at the mouth of the back entrance into the goblin camp. he'll attempt to play his being there off but will be outed by the parasite, revealing that he was also aboard the mindflayer ship and survived the crash. he reveals that he's there to rescue the druid h.alsin, informing the PC and co of where the goblin cells are.

do the other companions have special comments or reactions upon recruiting your muse? given all the companions can comment on recruiting each other, i'd say yes. i'd expect sh.adowheart to be skeptical and distrustful due to her training and influence of shar. as.tarion might be a little playful about it, or just annoyed at having to share camp with another weirdo. g.ale might have something to say about a sorcerer being recruited. lae'zel's most likely annoyed at the fact he's wasting time trying to rescue h.alsin. w.yll and k.arlach probably have the most positive comment / reaction since they'd be all for freeing someone from captivity / imprisonment.

does your muse have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions? feynirin's pretty casual, playful, and sarcastic so most of his commentary would be some witty oneliner's.

s.hadowheart : a mysterious, broody cleric who won't tell us anything about herself? yeah, sure, this definitely won't come back to haunt us later.

a.starion : he's charming enough, suspiciously well-groomed, and tried to kill you the first time you met. things can only get better from here.

g.ale : he's got that ' i once lived in a tower and monologued to my cat ' energy. i like it.

l.ae'zel : she's a little rough around the edges, huh? i guess we could always throw her at our enemies like a battering ram.

w.yll : i've heard a lot of tales about the blade of frontiers. brave, honourable, skilled. nobody ever mentioned how handsome he was though.

k.arlach : i love this chick, she's got rage issues.

h.alsin : i'm glad to see h.alsin throwing in with us officially. i've always wanted to see shapeshifting in action.

m.inthara ( moonrise towers only ) : this is a bad idea. i mean, we should save her anyway but maybe don't invite her back to camp after.

j.aheira : if i'd known all i needed to meet the leader of the harpers was to get infected by a mindflayer parasite, i'd of done it sooner.

m.insc : just to be clear—boo's the brains of the operation, right?

what sort of general actions raise or lower your muse's approval? being kind, compassionate or encouraging will raise his approval. outsmarting, tricking or deceiving enemies will also generally raise approval. unprovoked cruelty and rudeness, betrayal, deceiving allies or those not in positions of power, will lower his approval.

are there any instances where your muse can permanently leave the party, depending on PC actions? raiding the grove with m.inthara, leaving the gnomes enslaved to the duergar and / or nere, embracing the dark urge in act 3 will see him join jaheira and minsc, and betraying him in his personal questline can also lead to him permanently leaving the party. feynirin may also leave the party himself if his approval is low enough.

do they have any secrets that can be revealed? what are the prerequisites for the secret coming to light? his " secret " is that he's seeing his dead mentor / friend. this can be revealed through dialogue conversations, the PC must piece together a handful of hints and implications. the PC can press the issue and with successful persuasion or intimidation checks, causes feynirin to " black out ", returning to the dialogue with no memory of the conversation. the PC can get the option to use the mindflayer parasite to force a connection, they'll see an older male dwarf smiling as he turns away before they're psychically " kicked " from feynirin's mind. all of this leading to the reveal that something other than the parasite is affecting his mind.

his secret can be revealed even without these dialogue conversations, if he's given the noble stalk he'll remember disrupting a dangerous ritual and that his friend was slain, opening the questline further as feynirin will be actively attempting to find out what / who has tampered with his mind. also in act 2 there's a cutscene where the PC can find feynirin seemingly talking to himself. pressing the issue by rolling successful checks, using the parasite, or magic can lead to " breaking " the spell which is tampering with his mind. feynirin's memories of disrupting a ritual alongside his comrades will flood back to him and begin the shattered veil questline :):)

do they have their own personal quest that spans the course of the game? can it take different branching paths depending on the choices the PC makes? yes and yes :). by the end of the questline the PC can help break the link between feynirin and a " great old one " that's been tampering with his mind / memory, they can fail at breaking the link which causes feynirin to become a thrall of the " great old one ", losing himself as he's turned against the party, or the PC can choose to betray feynirin to the " great old one ", he'll become a thrall but remain a member of the party to defeat the absolute. there is a secret forth ending that is dependent on the PC's relationship with feynirin and if the party reunited with l.ace harding and n.eve gallus by act 3 in which feynirin will regain just enough of himself to [redacted] himself.

what do they say when the PC asks them to stay in camp and what do they say when the PC asks them to come adventuring again?

asked to stay, approval low to high

you're leaving me here? must be serious business.

fine. i'll stay here. in the camp. don't worry about me. i love staring at dirt.

sure, i'll stay. but if something explodes, i want a full, dramatic retelling when you get back.

a little r&r? you spoil me. just don't get into trouble without me.

i'll stay put. but if you need me, just say the word.

asked to join, approval low to high

let me guess—your first choice said no, and now you’ve come crawling back? let’s just go.

oh, now you want me? convenient.

alright—i’m back in the fray. try not to get me killed, yeah?

finally. sitting around doing nothing was getting a little dull.

i'm with you.

does your muse have any escalating conflicts with one of the other companions like the lae'zel and shadowheart knife-fight? unlikely. feynirin might disapprove a whole lot of actions or approaches to missions from the other companions but i doubt they'd come to blows over them. the majority of the party have come together out of circumstance and his best option is to work with them, not pick fights. he will become quite distant towards s.hadowheart if tav doesn't interfere during the knife fight and l.ae'zel is killed, he'll also voice his disappointment and frustration with tav for not interfering or putting a stop to the s.hadowheart / lae'zel conflict.

are there any unique npc's associated with your muse that can show up in the course of the game? yes! PC can encounter l.ace harding at last light inn, having followed the trail of the absolutist cult and getting stranded in the shadow cursed lands. there's also n.eve gallus in baldur's gate, who's investigating the missing gnomes and can direct the PC and co to the iron throne prison ( and inform the PC and co that duke ravengaard is being held there if w.yll breaks his pact ). if you meet either of them without feynirin the PC gets dialogue to tell him and feynirin will leave camp temporarily to go see them. harding reveals what happened after disrupting the ritual which in turn triggers the cutscene at camp with feynirin " talking to himself ", and n.eve reveals that she's " back on the job ", uncovering a " great old one's " influence over people in the lower city.

are there any moments in the game that trigger unique dialogue for your character? after speaking with the emerald grove merchant, arron, feynirin will comment his disapproval and disappointment with the druids for turning the tieflings away / attempting to lock themselves out of the world. if the PC lockpicks the gilded chest next to alfira he'll reveal that his friend taught him how to lockpick but sometimes a good lightning bolt works just as well ( this dialogue gives an opportunity to ask more about his past ). entering the shadow cursed lands will trigger a dialogue scene revealing that the magic is similar to something that happened to his childhood village, he'll warn the party to stay in the light. the druid and the dying tree in act 3 will trigger some dialogue as well and feyn will join the dragonborn to rejuvenate the tree.

story specific

how does your muse advise the PC when it comes to the dream visitor? at this point there are a lot of things messing with feynirin's head, some of which he's aware of and some he's not, so he admits that he's not the best person to advise on the dream visitor and is actually far more interested in what the PC and the other companions think.

how does your muse advise the PC on raphael? never. trust. a. devil. he encourages the PC that they'll keep searching for a cure, that they've yet to exhaust their options and that there is always a way out.

how does your muse react to astarion biting the PC? he's a little thrown off. mostly due to a.starion no longer being at the mercy of vampiric weaknesses like invitations, sunlight or crossing running water. he does say that he believes in a.starion's ability to control himself.

how does your muse react to the PC letting abdirak whip them? this also throws him off a bit, mostly due to his past and the fact he's been on the receiving end of a whipping and it wasn't willing ( opens up dialogue options later in camp ).

how does your muse react to the PC taking their first tadpole power? concerned, curious, a little grossed out but pretending not to be.

will your muse stay with the PC regardless of siding with the goblins or the tieflings? nope. if you side with the goblins and he's in your party at the time, he'll turn on you and leave the party. the PC's and co will then have to face him at the emerald grove unless the PC kills him at the goblin camp. if he was left at camp then he'll just permanently leave the party.

what can your muse be found doing at the tiefling / goblin party? skipping stones with the tiefling kids ( i know only mol is at the party but come on!! let me have this ), he can be overheard telling them one of varric's stories. when / if the PC talks to him then, they have the option to discourage feynirin from starting his stories with " i shit you not ".

does your muse have comments on who the PC chooses to spend the night with? he whole heartedly encourages the PC to have fun regardless of who it is they're spending the night with and will even dismiss the PC to go talk to their " sweetheart ".

does your muse have unique dialogue if the PC lets them die when they steal the blood of lathander? nothing quite as spectacular as a.starion's crash out. he does ramble on about obvious traps, ancient ruins, protection wards, and accuses the PC of being blind as a bat but eventually cools off and, if at high approval, even apologizes for lashing out.

how does your muse react if the PC licks the dead spider in the gauntlet of shar? " oh, that is not sanitary. " disgusted and mildly concerned throughout but also not exactly moving to stop them.

what does your muse say if the PC tries to force them to go up on stage with dribbles the clown? he's got a boring reaction, he'll just reaffirm that dribbles was talking to the PC and that he doesn't have much stage presence.

is it possible for your muse to be kidnapped and replaced by orin? how is orin's deception revealed? how do they react to the PC rescuing them in the temple of bhaal? yes, orin can kidnap and replace him. orin's deception is revealed through insight and perception checks at camp after finding " feynirin " claiming he can't be trusted, his mind isn't his own, and that the PC has to kill him. otherwise, " feynirin " shows up in the lower city sewers having " escaped " from orin and claiming that he'll hold her off while the PC escapes. upon being rescued at the temple of bhaal, feynirin expresses disbelief and gratitude that the PC came for him at all.

how does your muse react to the PC either allowing astarion to ascend or convincing him to spare the 7000 spawn? feynirin is against a.starion ascending, guaranteeing that the PC would regret the choice for the rest of their life and that what will come of a.starion will be no one's fault but their own. he'll express approval and pride if a.starion spares the other spawn and promises that if a.starion is going to help them in the underdark once the absolute is dealt with he'll join him.

how does your muse react to the PC becoming a mindflayer? can they offer to become one themselves? does their reaction change if they're romanced? feynirin is devastated if the PC becomes a mindflayer, regardless of approval or relationship. he considers it a disservice and a waste. he will offer to become one himself, though he will encourage the PC to kill him once the absolute is defeated. if romanced, feynirin won't tell them to kill him, but will imply that he'll do it himself. if romanced and the PC becomes a mindflayer, feynirin will still be devastated but will also admire them for making the sacrifice and that whatever happens he'll be by their side no matter what.

how does your muse react when the dark urge first reveals their amnesia and murderous thoughts to them? he'll be concerned for them and sympathetic, ask some follow up questions and inform them that he's never heard of such an affliction but that he's willing to help them any way he can. this can take the form of sleeping droughts, or keeping an eye on them in battle.

how does your muse react to the dark urge killing alfira? horrified and disgusted. if they had a conversation prior to her murder about their urges, then feynirin will take the blame for not taking their claims seriously and that he's sorry that he wasn't able to stop them. if they didn't speak beforehand, he'll talk about alfira being an innocent and being harmless, he'll question what possessed them to commit such a deed and be somewhat stand-offish until they earn more approval points.

if romanced, how does your muse react to the dark urge trying to kill them in act 2? he'll be kind of flattered that he's the one the dark urge cares about most in the party. after tying them up he'd be patient and quite gentle with them regardless of what they say / do while tied up. mostly assuring them that he's not going anywhere and that they're safe with him.

romance

is your muse romanceable? are there any specific requirements to romancing them? yes, he's romanceable, and there aren't a lot of requirements to romance him outside of making decisions that would push him to leave the party. there's a cutscene in act 1 where feynirin can levitate the PC at camp and when the spell fails, catches them, they both land on the ground, queue charged tension and a nearly kiss. the PC gets the option to pull away, closing the romance branch, if they don't then feynirin will chicken out at the last moment and won't bring it up again until act 2.

does your muse need to be flirted with to start the romance, or will they approach the PC themselves if approval is high enough? he does need to be flirted with first, and his approval needs to be high enough before he'll start pursuing a romantic relationship. feynirin's a bit of a slow burn, he doesn't tend to take the flirting seriously until act 2 and then he won't approach the PC seriously until after they've reached moonrise towers.

is your muse polyamorous or monogamous? he's polyamorous, though he will ask the PC if they're pursuing other relationships because they're unsatisfied. otherwise, he's happy to share and be shared.

does your muse have a special romance scene at the tiefling / goblin party? yes, when the party comes to an end, the PC can join feynirin for a midnight skinny dip and have another near kiss :) the PC can opt to go in for a kiss and feynirin will immediately get bashful and they end up colliding heads instead, or the PC waits, feynirin starts to lean in only to splash them with water instead. the scene's supposed to be playful and kind of more friendly-flirty than romantic or sexual.

does the romance have different branching paths, or just one route to take? kind of. if the PC fails to sever the link between feynirin and the great old one that's manipulating his mind, then enthralled!feynirin can break free from thralldom long enough to allow the PC to kill him or to escape. if the PC chooses to escape, they'll be attacked by enthralled!feynirin at camp the following long rest. if they betrayed feynirin to the old great one, an enthralled!feynirin who is still in the party can still be interacted with but he is entirely devoted to the great old one. during a dialogue conversation at camp, the PC can kiss enthralled!feynirin but he'll be entirely indifferent.

how does your muse react to the PC breaking up with them, or choosing another companion over them? he's gracious, but will also be hurt and disappointed. he'll encourage the PC and their chosen companion, telling them that he's happy for them and not to worry about him, that his hurt will pass.

what questions can zethino ask the PC about your muse in the love test? pikachu_meme.jpg

what does feynirin long for more than anything? to matter—to be someone others believe in.

tell me, when does he feel most like himself? when he's standing beside those who trust him, proving he's worth their faith.

feynirin—what is his deepest regret? letting down the ones he loved . . . and fearing he might do it again.

if they're poly, do they have a reaction to the PC engaging in a relationship with halsin? it takes a couple dialogue clicks before he realizes what the PC is saying but he gets there eventually. he says he understands the appeal and is supportive of the relationship. the PC can ask if he'd like to join and feynirin will be willing and eager, but advises the PC have their first night with halsin alone.

how does your muse react if the PC has sex with mizora, the emperor, or haarlep? if the PC has sex with mizora and / or the emperor he'll express hurt and anger. if the PC dismisses or disregards his feelings, he'll break up with them ( i think the emperor wipes the companions memories that walk in on them after the fact right? in that case feynirin wouldn't remember so they'd stay together ). if feynirin is in the party when the PC is propositioned by haarlep, he'll express reluctance and disapproval, the PC can convince feynirin that it's just to avoid a fight and that they need haarlep's help but he'll still be lowkey upset about it.

will they join in with the PC and the drow twins? if the PC is taking one of the twins to bed, yes, if it's both, no. and he will disapprove but it wouldn't end the relationship.

what are your muse's plans for the future? do they propose to the PC, or is marriage not something they're interested in? marriage isn't something he's considered for himself, but he would devote himself to his partner and be willing to go with them anywhere and everywhere. he'll show interest in returning to his clan, introducing the PC to them but ultimately, he's just interested in being where his partner is.

free space

so in bg3 feynirin's a sorcerer / warlock multiclass. prior to being abducted by the mindflayer ship and infected with the parasite, he was accompanying his friends varric, harding, and neve, in disrupting a magical ritual that they believed would destroy the material plain by merging it with the dreaming ( another in-between realm of spirits, demons, and other celestial / aberrations ). after successfully disrupting the ritual, feynirin is wounded and abducted by the mindflayer ship. while aboard, the great old one responsible for the ritual in the first place links with feynirin's mind in order to enthrall him. the mindflayer parasite interferes with this link, allowing feynirin to retain his own mind and agency but is still being manipulated and coerced by the great old one.

there are instances where feynirin loses time, he's convinced that his friend varric is still alive and is psychically blocked from questioning it even when confronted. breaking the great old one's hold over him is his questline, as is banishing or summoning the great old one to the material plain.

[quihi]

Okay, overall thoughts on Fablehaven and Dragonwatch. I hope to write in more detail later - I have a first draft of a post about my take on some of the religious themes and allegory in Dragonwatch - but I gotta start somewhere (that requires less citations).

I saw Carnival Quest on the library shelf last November, read that, and had so much fun I decided to go for more Brandon Mull and reread Fablehaven. (I don't read a lot of kids books, as an adult, but I hadn't felt like reading in awhile and this made reading fun.) The first book was rough, honestly—it was his first published book and it shows. The prose felt clunky and awkward, but I got used to it and it improved. Seth drove me insane—so much of the plot was driven by "Seth screws up." But it was a quick and easy and fun read, and the world and concept were a delight!

Books 2–4 were great. I only read the books once or twice over ten years ago, so all I remembered was the general concept, a little about Kendra and Seth, and a vague idea of the final battle. I got to experience all the twists again! It was very fun to see the people who populate this increasingly large world, and the people around the edges like that rich couple in Georgia who have fairies but have never seen a preserve. Like, how did they get involved, how much do they know? It's clear that Kendra and Seth are way more deeply involved than someone who just discovered the preserves normally would be. I have a lot of thoughts about their parents and how Fablehaven fits in with their lives, and I think I think about that a lot more as an adult—it doesn't bother me but I find it more sad now.

Keys to the Demon Prison was big, and wow did we see the world. It added a lot of stuff that hadn't felt foreshadowed at all—the Eternals, Vasilis, Bracken—so it felt a little disconnected and like there were some deus ex machina. I liked the ending, though, and how everything wrapped up with swapping the demon prison and the fairy realm.

So, fun series! They definitely felt like kids books, but I would still recommend them to kids and adults who want to read a fun, magical adventure.

After this, life got busy, and I needed a break, and time to let the books sink in and read a few other books, so I didn't start Dragonwatch until January. I raced through the first three books, then took about a week off before I could get myself past the beginning of Champion of the Titan Games, then finished the series in under a week. They got so frustrating and dark that I needed that break, but I'm glad I didn't force myself to keep reading when I was worn out.

Okay, look, I know this seems to be an unpopular opinion, but I enjoyed them. I don't know if it helped because I read them all in under a month and didn't think too hard or reread them in between, and I hadn't been eagerly awaiting them—I don't think much about Mull or keep up with his new books. I didn't notice a lot of the continuity errors that I guess were there, though I did notice the big thematic change from darkness being neutral to being more evil (though I have some thoughts on that, too). There were definitely some weird choices. The structure of book five felt very similar to Fablehaven's book five.

I liked Knox and Tess. I see reasons they would be introduced, and while they could have done more (Tess: spends entire series as the innocent girl, gets teleported around a couple times but never to anywhere from which she can get home), I couldn't help liking them. They're decent foils for Kendra and Seth, at least. I think I'd have liked more of them, over cutting them. I badly wanted Knox and Seth to sit down for a good conversation about mistakes and forgiveness.

One of the story choices that baffled or irritated me most was not putting Marat or Agad back in charge of Wyrmroost, after Celebrant lost his status. I guess the best argument is there wasn't time between them returning from Stormguard Castle and Seth's disappearance, and the explicit consent of both Kendra and Seth was needed, but like, that should have been the first thing they did. I guess no one thought of it. And I suppose there was still the issue of no easy way to leave.

There was a lot of religion, which I began to notice in Master of the Phantom Isle, and was surprisingly blatant in Return of the Dragon Slayers. Religious themes in books don't bother me, though I know that's a YMMV topic and I understand why some people don't like it. (Thank you to the Fablehaven fandom for, as far as I can tell, not getting into absolute hatred of Christianity.) But, well, they were still overall the fun adventures that I was reading for, even as they got more sad and the character arcs got deeper. I'm glad I finished and read through the whole series.

I was left with a lot to think about. I have ideas for fanfiction. Mostly canon compliant, set after Dragonwatch, with some earlier, and also one romance AU that I'm worried about people's reactions to the ship. I'm buying a lot of the books to reference more easily, since I like referencing books when I write and I'm no longer twelve years old with the time and urge to flip through and reread books a dozen times until I know every plot point by heart by the time I return them to the library, but I do have more disposable income.

So, uh, I'm not really one to rate books, but I'd still call these solid and fun overall, though they have their flaws. I far prefer enjoying books to criticizing them, so I'd rather like them and try to find ideas and headcanons that improve them, rather than linger on the elements I dislike. I want to be positive!

[twistedisciple]

As they are considering what items to choose from the selection provided to victors, Ninian looks to the side to see Griss holding up seashells that appear to be intended for use as chest armor. Somehow it doesn't surprise her that he would cover as little of his chest as possible, though it is fascinating that such an item exists at all; human bodies are so very fragile, and still they are willing to wear such little protection (or none at all, but Sir Griss’ liking of pain is unconventional). While she considered the shells herself earlier, they will surely serve him better: little protection is better than none, and she can rely on her true form’s scales besides.

“A stylish choice, Sir Griss,” she comments quietly, with a small smile. “They suit you, and I'm glad to know you'll have some form of protection.”

“You got a weird sense of style,” Griss quips. He’d been trying to figure out what exactly he was holding for the past few minutes, twine strung between his hands, concentration fixed on the pair of palm-sized scallop shells that hung from it. He glances sidelong at the dragon, then back at the ornament. That’s what it had to be: an ornament. Or— he drops one side of it and swings the other around his finger. A weapon? Without much weight on it, it flutters and flaps— maybe a distraction?

Stylish… Protection…

The serrated edge of one of the shells nicks his wrist and an epiphany lights up his eyes.

“Right.” He catches the twine between both hands again, and then starts to tie it to the leather straps that run beneath both of his arms. “I dunno about protection…” He didn’t need that anyway. These are something better. He slaps the shells against his chest when he’s done, and they bite flesh just like cilices. Ninian’s concern gets another round of his rough laughter.

“But they’re gonna hurt so good!”

Even if he’d have the outline of two palm-sized shells imprinted on his chest for days to come.

[paranoidginger]

Lab-rat part 10

Tw: N/A

Bait sat in the common room, a small smile on his face as he listened to one of the Scout's many stories, a blanket wrapped snugly around his shoulders.

"So I'm out with my brothas, right? All reallllll rough and tumble types ah' guys, I'm only fifteen, and I see this person who I think is a cute chick, I'm only seeing her back, and she's got this super nice long hair. My older brotha, he notices me eye'n this broad, and he's all 'Shoot ya shot, man' so I look at him, all nervous n' crap, and go walk over to her. This. Now this is where it starts to get good, right? Because I go over and try to talk to her, and she turns around and turns out she was a whole man. He's got this super thick moustache, and I immediately recognize him. Dude's wearin' a wig, and he looks at my brotha and they both start losing their damn minds, 'cause the guy was my oldest brotha's best friend! Then the pieces fall together, 'cause my brother would never be that encouraging to me when it comes to a cute chick, he'd always, and I mean always, be the one to start hittin' on em, and then I think, and I realize that it's April freakin' first. They went through this whole plan, just to make me have a crush on my brotha's best friend. It didn't work though, I mean, I already decided to like girls, and I couldn't just go back 'n betray all the hot babes that wouldn't ever have a chance with me if I liked fellas, you know?"

Most of what the man said didn't make much sense to Bait, but Scout sounded so happy whenever he told his stories... It felt nice to be the one he could share whatever he liked with, just because he would listen...

The pair were interrupted as the Medic approached them, his boots clicking softly on the hardwood floors of the base.

"Sorry to intrude, but zhe shipment came in for our friend! Bait, if you are ready, we can get started on getting you put back together." The Medic smiled slightly, although it wavered slightly as he spoke the Clone's name. It felt wrong, filthy, even... But it was what the other team had called him, and what he continued to answer to while he tried to think of a name for himself.

"I'm ready..." He spoke quietly, getting to his feet and extending a hand so that he could be guided to the infirmary.

"He's... He's gonna be okay, right doc?" The Scout asked cautiously "I know you've got a knack for that kinda stuff but... I don't know, I'm- I'm just nervous. After what happened the other day when he wasn't wakin' up..."

"You know Zhat he is in safe hands, I von't let anyzhing go wrong, Junge." Gently, the medic took the clone's hand, beginning to lead him down the hall to where the procedures would be done.

Hours passed in an unconscious state, Bait's body laying on the Medic's operating table as he diligently worked, removing the horrid stuffing within the clone's body and replacing it with what belonged, saving his eyes for last.

The most delicate of procedures as nerves were mended together, and fine muscles reattached until finally, he could look at the clone's face and see that it was whole again. All of him would be whole again, for the first time in who knows how long.

Eventually, the young man slowly came to, a strange pressure in his face that he wasn't yet used to... And yet he still could not see. It wasn't the same as it had been before, though, his vision filled with simple darkness, as opposed to the void beyond it... But why was it still so dark? Slowly, he sat up in his little recovery bed, carefully touching his face, finding himself bandaged with gauze covering his eyes.

He turned his head to the door as he heard it open and shut, the familiar voices of the Medic and Spy.

"I'm glad to see zhat you're awake! Herr Spy vanted to be here for vhenever I took zhe bandages off." The Medic explained moving to sit on the edge of Bait's bed. "I have zhe lights off for now, being able to see again vill most likely be a very big transition for you." With that, the Medic carefully unraveled the bandages from around the clone's head, and he was finally able to open his eyes.

He took a deep breath, the motion easier than it had been before as he looked around the room, in shock as he was able to take in everything around him. A shaky laugh escaped him, and he began to smile. After a moment, he pulled the medic into a firm hug, his laughter turning to small sobs, tears of joy running down his face as he felt an extra set of arms around him, just for a moment.

As he pulled away from the Medic, wiping his tears with the heel of his palm, he looked up at the Spy, who had a rare genuine smile on his face.

"I told you the docteur would treat you well. Everyone here has been rooting for you, mon garçon... Myself especially."

Part 9

@thatonesimp-e @realccre

Another sweeter chapter, before everything goes to hell.

[jessjad]

Oh, this ending. 🥹🥹🥹

They met you in front of your house, where Dory pulled you into a big, swaying hug. She cried, you cried, and her brothers hung back to watch the warm scene.

Dory is a really good friend. I knew she wanted to make sure that everything was okay with her. 😇

“Please,” Colter said. He touched your arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you and Charlie are safe.”

You teared up all over again, but you gave him a smile and held his hand with both of yours.

“Thank you,” you said.

Colter really is one of the good guys. Which is probably the reason why I like the show right away. This is so heartwarming. Like he's silently telling her that she's part of the family now. I mean, if anyone noticed the feelings between her and Russell right away, it's him. 🤭

“What if that was the Chevelle,” you teased. 

He cast you a playfully chiding look. “Woman, don’t even joke.”

😂😂😂 Men and their cars. 🤭 I loved this whole scene. They got comfortable with eachother right away and it felt so easy. And when they talked about the heavy stuff, they silently supported and listented to the other without judging. Which eventually is just letting their bond become stronger and stronger. 🥰

She did offer, he thought, remembering what you’d said at the hospital. And yet, he hesitated.

See? Our Mountain Man is a good guy too. A gentleman even. 🤭

You’d literally invited him into your bed last night, but he hadn’t done anything more than hold you while you slept. It was incredibly kind, and it said a lot about him, despite his rough-around-the-edges exterior. You were just a little disappointed that he’d been a perfect gentleman about it all. 

Oh, this is a woman's problem. 🤣 I just recently had a convo with someone I know and she said the same thing. You still want them to at least try, so that you can say "No. I really don't want it." but have the validation that he's truly attracted to you at the same time. 🙈 Someone shall understand women. 🤣

“I didn’t say anything about makeup,” he replied.

My god... let me die on the spot! 😩

“I know, baby. Gonna fucking wreck you, I promise,” he said with a grin. 

Girl... never EVER complain about your smut again. I'm serious! This was just... I have no words. 🥵🥵🥵

He’d found where he wanted to be. 

Damn right! No "if's" or "but's"! ☝🏻

But I'm sad that this is already over. Like I am with every story you write. However, I also know that we will see these two again. 🥰 And I can't wait to see what you're coming up with next. 💜

Every Second Counts - Part 5

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

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

AN: I thought about breaking up this chapter into two parts, but for some reason it didn’t feel right. I hope you enjoy the finale! I think this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for…

Word Count: 7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, ‘90s movie reference, mutual pining and tension, and a strong dose of smut.

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 5: “Damn Worth It”

You borrowed Russell’s cell to call Dory from the hospital. You let her know that Charlie was stable and resting, and that Russell was bringing you home.

You should’ve known that when you two got there, you wouldn’t have the kind of privacy you craved. Colter and Dory were waiting in his car, parked in your driveway. They met you in front of your house, where Dory pulled you into a big, swaying hug. She cried, you cried, and her brothers hung back to watch the warm scene.

Dory pulled back to get a better look at you. She hesitated to touch the bandage above your brow.

“God. Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” you sniffed, wiping at your face. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Dory actually had your keys. After she handed them to you, you took in a steadying breath, and you unlocked your front door without incident this time. You invited everyone in.

Even though you told her not to, Dory began straightening up a bit for you. She had Russell take out the trash while she washed the dishes.

Meanwhile, you pulled Colter aside in the living room. You led him to sit with you on the couch.

“Can I at least give you $1,000?” you asked. It was all you had left in your savings, but the man had literally saved your brother's life, and yours as well. “I know it’s not much, compared to what your jobs usually get you—”

“Please,” Colter said. He touched your arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you and Charlie are safe.”

You teared up all over again, but you gave him a smile and held his hand with both of yours.

“Thank you,” you said.

Russell happened to spot the cozy little scene from the doorway. He couldn’t help staring, and trying not to frown.

When Colter caught sight of his brother loitering (and that look on his face), Colter tried to hide most of his smile. He let go of your hand, patted your shoulder and stood. You followed him to the kitchen, where he went to check on Dory. Russell filtered in behind you both.

“Hey, wanna grab some lunch?” Colter asked his sister.

She gave him a raised brow. “Wow, my brother actually wants to hang out with me instead of rushing off to the next job?”

He gave her an amused look. “I’ve got some time.”

Dory was happy to hear that, but her expression dimmed when she turned to you.

“Would you want to go? Or do you need to rest?” she asked.

“Oh, I need to get cleaned up, and then sleep for about ten years,” you said. “But you go, D. Have fun.”

She frowned. “I don’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

“Well, she won’t be,” Russell chimed in. “I’m gonna hang out here for a bit, clean up and take little power nap myself.”

At that, Dory slowly smiled, both amused and suspicious. Her gaze slid back to you.

“Are you sure?” she asked. You read the double meaning laced in her tone.

“Yeah, definitely,” you said with a smile, and the beginnings of a warm blush. “You guys go ahead.”

There was a knowing gleam to her own smile, but Dory shrugged and gave you one last hug. She and Colter said their goodbyes to their older brother before they headed out. It left you alone in the house with Russell for the first time since this all began.

“Um, you can use the guest bathroom if you want to shower,” you told him. “Towels are under the sink, and feel free to borrow any of Charlie’s clothes if you need.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got a bag in the car with some stuff,” Russell said, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “I take one wherever I go.”

“Smart,” you nodded. “Very prepared.”

A strange silence stretched between you two, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m just…gonna go clean up,” you said. “We can order some food after?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” he said. He was amused as he watched you scurry off, after giving him another smile over your shoulder.

Though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a small trill of nerves himself. It brought him a little bounce in his step as he headed out to his car to grab his stuff.

By the time you were done showering and drying your hair, Russell had ordered a pizza (and a side of fries). You padded out into the living room in an old college shirt and pajama shorts. He tried not to linger his gaze on your smooth, bare legs. 

“Sorry, forgot to ask if you’d want something else to eat,” he said. 

“Pizza is perfect,” you said. At this point, after almost a full day without food, you’d eat sliced bread out of the bag. You gave him a teasing look. “I’d ask you if you wanted a beer, but I’m afraid it’s not up to your standard.”

“Well, that’s okay. I happen to have brought a sample for you, just like I promised,” he said, with that grin of his you’d come to expect.

He retrieved a case of homebrew from his car, but you had to add some ice cubes into a tall glass before you joined him back on the couch. You poured the contents of a bottle into the glass.

“Sorry, I know this is sacrilege, but I can’t drink warm beer,” you said.

“I can’t fault you, though I didn’t really peg you for a pizza and beer kind of girl,” he said. He tipped a swig of beer into his mouth, right from a lukewarm bottle. He was a purist.

You quirked a brow at him and took another bite of your pizza slice. 

“Why not?” you asked, after swallowing a mouthful of pepperoni and mushroom.

Russell shrugged. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“No, no. I want to hear this,” you said. “What, because I teach college students?”

Russell looked over at you and leaned on his elbow, resting above his knee. 

“You’re a college professor with a handful of degrees,” he said. “I’ve got a GED and a give ‘em hell outlook on life.”

You shook your head at that. 

“We’re different. That’s not a bad thing,” you said. “And like my brother, you’ve fought for this country. You’ve saved lives, including mine. I’d say that’s pretty damn special.”

His head tilted at that. He didn’t want to remind you that, just like you saw today, he’d taken lives too. Perhaps just as many as he’d saved. You could debate the quality of those lives, but in the grand scheme of things, he knew what he was. A trained killer.

He rolled his shoulders, feeling a familiar weight.

You didn’t like the pensive look on his face, so you aimed to distract him.

“Want to watch a movie?” you suggested.

Russell inclined his head. “Sure. What you got?”

That was how the two of you ended up finishing the box of pizza and a case of beer while laughing at Tommy Boy, of all things—one of the best '90s buddy road trip comedies of all time. Apparently Russell had never seen it before, but you enjoyed watching him experience it for the first time. He had a deep, infectious laugh that made you laugh just by proximity. 

Later in the movie, the reluctant, unlikely duo of Tommy and Richard hit a deer, and tried to transport it in the car. Russell both laughed and cringed when the animal woke up and thoroughly wrecked the car from the inside. You noticed his reaction and nudged him in the arm. 

Russell held in a grunt of pain when you unintentionally hit his injured shoulder, bandaged underneath his gray henley. 

“What if that was the Chevelle,” you teased. 

He cast you a playfully chiding look. “Woman, don’t even joke.”

You laughed and squeezed his forearm in a friendly gesture. But he thought there was more than just friendliness when you shot him that little smile. He decided to take a chance. 

“Come ‘ere,” he said. He slid a hand around your waist and guided you closer until you came to lay against his side. You allowed yourself to rest against him, splaying your hand flat against the firm wall of his chest. Your heart tripped up faster, but you also relaxed more fully for the first time since you got home. You let out a long breath, and you used the remote to lower the volume on the movie a little.

“Do you think Charlie will be able to get past this?” you asked quietly. “Think he’ll be okay?”

Russell hummed as he thought back to his conversation with your brother in the hospital. Charlie was still young, but he seemed to realize what he’d done, and what he needed to change. He wouldn’t have volunteered himself for rehab if he hadn’t.

Russell brushed your arm with his thumb. “Well, I think he knows what he needs to do. If he’s anything like you, then he’ll be all right.”

Your mouth tugged upward, though you considered his words with a sigh.

“He hasn’t had it easy,” you said. “He was barely eighteen when our parents died. Suddenly he had to be an adult. In fact, he almost didn’t finish high school. Had to take care of the funeral, had to get a job, had to take care of me…and I didn’t always make it easy on him.”

Russell’s lips curved in light of your faint smile. Then, your expression dimmed.

“He pulled me out of the car,” you admitted. Russell looked down at you.

“You all were there?” he asked. 

“My dad was driving. We’d just gone out to dinner as a family,” you said.

You hesitated as the scenes once again filtered through your mind. Some things were hazy. Others, you could see with perfect clarity. You remembered how your parents argued about the best way to get home while the pouring rain beat down overhead, half-drowning out their voices.

You remembered what the flash of a red stoplight looked like through the car window, with streams of water coming down, and a dead leaf stuck to the glass.

You remembered the sound of horns blaring in your ears, the crunch of metal on metal. Your mother’s scream. The feeling of being suspended, and then ricocheted painfully through time and space.

Then the smell of exhaust, and the metallic tang of blood.

“We were heading through a terrible storm,” you said, after letting out a long breath through your nose. “By the end of the night, it was just me and Charlie in the hospital.”

He’d broken his arm, but thanks to him, the only thing you really walked away with were a few cuts and bruises, and the memories of that day. They were like old scars, painful and tender at the touch.

Russell shook his head, his brows knitting together. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “And I’m sorry too. I know you understand what it’s like to lose a parent.”

The movie played on as that new weight settled between you. Russell fell into his own thoughts as he continued to rub your arm in comfort. His own past wasn’t like yours, but he did understand some of your pain.

“How much did Dory tell you about how we grew up?” he asked.

You shifted a bit, so you could see his face too.

“I know your dad took you all to a cabin in some sort of compound in the woods, when you all were still pretty young.”

“He taught us to live off the land. Drilled us, really,” Russell explained, noting your raised brows. “Yeah, he was…well, a paranoid bastard, to be frank. We still don’t know all of why, and what drove him to move us out there.”

“Dory said he was…eccentric,” you said. Russell snorted.

“He was a piece of fucking work,” he said. “Half the time I hated him, if I’m honest.”

That part was hard to admit, even if it was true. Your hand soothed across his chest, more comforting as you listened. Russell’s lips quirked. He liked that about you, that you were willing to listen without judging him, or his family. Maybe that was another reason Dory seemed to love you so much.

“But one night, it was like he snapped,” he said.

For a moment, he was lost in the memory. His father’s anger, and the damn crazy look in his eyes. 

“What happened?” you asked quietly.

Russell glanced at you again. “I don’t think you wanna hear this right now.”

You shook your head. “No, I do.”

He hesitated, but that earnest look in your eyes got him. Still, he surprised himself when he actually told you. He explained it the best he could, the way he saw it in his mind’s eye.

Their mom had been missing, hadn’t come home yet. Then his dad had torn around the house like a man possessed, until he told them it was time to leave for their own safety. Dory had been scared, especially when he grabbed her, yelled at her.

That was the one thing Russell couldn’t tolerate. So he snapped, yanking the older man back and shoving him away. It was one of the first times Russell had ever defied his father.

Ashton Shaw left them then, heading out into the night and the rain. Maybe he’d realized what he was doing to his own kids, his own family.

Colter wanted to follow after him, but Russell stopped him. Being the eldest, he took on the responsibility, even if he’d been reluctant. We’re better off without him…

He was barely sixteen at the time, but Russell knew he’d seen his father arguing with someone—a man he’d seen before, talking with his mother. And then…

“I watched him die that night,” Russell said.

Your hand clenched in his shirt, reminding him that you were still in his arms, still listening. He remembered that scene, looking over the cliff to find his father’s broken body down below. 

“He fell, and I couldn’t stop it,” he said. “And to this day, I still don’t know what all that was about.”

He’d been reluctant to tell even Colter that it still haunted him sometimes; that night, and the not knowing.

You pulled yourself up further so you could meet Russell’s gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” you said.

The movie had long faded into the background, but at least it gave some white noise for the next heavy beat that passed between you two. His eyes eventually fell away from yours.

“It’s old history,” Russell said at last.

“It’s not just history,” you denied softly. “It’s your life.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just hummed in agreement. He encouraged you to relax against him again, with a warm hand on your back. You settled and released another contented sigh. Even though Russell’s story weighed on your heart, you did feel closer to him. It made you feel like you understood Dory better too, and even Colter.

Russell rubbed your arm. “You doin’ okay? You’ve had a long day.”

“Day and night,” you agreed. Your eyes closed against your will. “But, yeah…I think I’m okay now.”

At that, he smiled. He laid a kiss on your forehead.

“Good,” he said.

A few minutes later, Russell heard your soft, deeper breaths in sleep. He chanced grabbing a throw blanket laid over the back of the couch. He managed to toss it over your body, but he made sure it covered you. You shifted in your sleep and curled up more comfortably against him. 

Russell smiled down on you fondly. He’d learned a hell of a lot more about you in just the past couple of days, but ever since he met you, he’d been picking up on the important things. The things that made you the woman you were.

And he wanted more, he realized. He wanted more time with you.

That turned out to be the last real thought he had before his eyes closed on him too. 

Russell didn’t wake again until the credits on the movie were rolling near the end. You were still knocked out. So he carried you, blanket and all, over to your bedroom.

He smelled the remnants of your floral shampoo and body wash in the air, likely coming from the bathroom. It was an intoxicating mix, one that had infiltrated his nose ever since you came out of the shower today. 

It was only 6:00 p.m., but it might as well have been midnight. He laid you down toward the middle of the bed. There was still space on the other side. Very tempting.

She did offer, he thought, remembering what you’d said at the hospital. And yet, he hesitated.

Before he could make a decision, you made it for him. Your hand reached out to hook in his shirt. 

Russell looked down at your sleepy smile. 

“Get over here,” you said, tugging him downward. He chuckled and wrapped his hand around yours. He allowed you to guide him over, and he somehow managed to roll onto the other side of the bed without crushing you. 

“Reflexes like a cat, I tell ya,” he quipped.

You giggled softly. He took off his first layer of defense (his pants), leaving him in his henley and boxer briefs. He settled into bed behind you and slipped an arm around your waist. He fit in snug against your back.

“Mmm,” he sighed. His lips pressed behind your ear, smiling there. “Feels nice.” 

“Mhmm,” you agreed.

He couldn’t see your smile, but you held his arm in place. For the first time in a while, you weren’t alone.

In the early morning, you woke up to warmth and closeness. The man in your bed snored lightly, mouth parted in sleep while he faced you. You smiled.

How could a man who felt dangerous, in more ways than one, also make you feel safe? It was a wonder. Though when an idea hit you, you carefully slid out of bed.

Russell eventually roused in his own time. He blinked awake, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stretched out his limbs in your very comfortable bed. This sure beat rusty motel springs.

He realized that he was alone in the room, but he heard you puttering around the house. He allowed himself to doze some more.

A few minutes later, you returned to greet him with a couple of mugs, drawing him back into the waking world with the rich smell of coffee.

“Aww yeah, that’s the stuff,” he said. He groaned as he slowly sat up.

You laughed and sat beside him on the edge of the bed. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he said. His voice was deeper and rougher with sleep, washing down your spine pleasantly.

He accepted the mug you offered him. He took a sip and hummed in pleasure at its bold flavor. It wasn’t as sweet as he usually liked it, but it was exactly what he needed right now.

“I just did a little sugar and creamer. That okay?” you asked. 

“It’s good,” he nodded. And you looked good, he noticed, with your bed-tousled hair and an open robe over your tank top and little shorts.  

“Do you want to meet Dory and Colter for breakfast?” you asked. “Dory texted me this morning.”

Russell’s brows shot up. 

“Colt stuck around?” he asked.

“Yeah, Dory asked him to stay at her place last night,” you said. Russell hummed in response. 

A bit of an awkward lull fell between you. You’d felt bolder yesterday in the hospital, but now, you weren’t entirely sure what you were doing with a man who just slept somewhat-but-not-altogether platonically in your bed.

“Um, I’ll just…get ready then,” you said, pointing to the bathroom. “You…take your time.”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.”

He peeled back the covers and climbed out of your bed, away from the sheets that smelled like you. 

You watched him go when he headed across the hall back to Charlie’s room. You sighed and beat your hand against your own forehead in frustration. What the hell am I doing?

You’d literally invited him into your bed last night, but he hadn’t done anything more than hold you while you slept. It was incredibly kind, and it said a lot about him, despite his rough-around-the-edges exterior. You were just a little disappointed that he’d been a perfect gentleman about it all. 

You rolled your eyes at yourself. What did that say about you?

You shook your head and resolved to freshen up. There was still a cut that the ER nurse covered with a butterfly bandage above your brow. You cleaned it up and applied a new bandage. Then you put on some makeup to cover the ugly bruise on your cheek and the dark circles that lingered under your eyes.

God, look at me. You actually wouldn’t blame Russell for not being into you enough to make a move. 

A bit disheartened, you changed out of your pajamas to slip on a nice, but comfortable dress over your bra and underwear. Afterward, you paused to stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment. What exactly do you want here?

“Hey, uh—” Russell’s voice startled you, making you flinch. Maybe you were still jumpy.

He raised an apologetic hand. “Sorry. Just thought I’d ask if you want some toast or something. I don’t think my stomach can wait ‘til we meet up with Dory.”

You smiled faintly. “Sure, go ahead. Whatever’s there, you’re welcome to.”

Russell paused, tilting his head. There was something off with you. He saw it, and felt it. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” you said, glancing away. 

Russell’s spidey senses began to tingle. He approached you and laid a hand on the counter, inches from yours. 

“You sure?” he said. He took in your hesitant face, then the pretty dress you had on. The color matched your eyes. Soulful eyes.

He smiled when you let him see them again.

“Can you see the bruises? I think I covered them up well enough,” you said. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror again, touching your jaw carefully. 

Russell’s hand raised to find your cheek, earning your attention with wider eyes. His thumb swept across your skin as you started to blush.

“You’re beautiful,” he said with a smile. “Don’t you worry about that.”

Your face warmed further, despite your smile. 

“Yeah, the makeup helps,” you quipped. 

“I didn’t say anything about makeup,” he replied. Though he grinned and made a show of looking closer at your face. “Although, have your lashes always been that damn long?”

You laughed, but he didn’t let go of you. Instead, his hand drifted down to your neck, cradling your jaw. His thumb brushed over your lower lip this time, smudging your lipstick a little. Your eyes met his, but they’d already lowered, to the path of his hand. You were tempted to nip at his thumb, or better yet, suck it into your mouth.

Perhaps he read the thought crossing your face. Because when those darkened eyes flicked up to yours, he finally bowed his head to kiss you.

You took in a deep breath, and you melted into his mouth with a moan of wanting. A craving from the depths of your heart, finally being fulfilled.

You didn’t let yourself think anymore. You gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. He cupped the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, and you let him in. You met his every kiss with the same fervor, claiming him right back, demanding just as much.

Your hands slid up his chest and helped him shrug off the green jacket first, then his shirt (Led Zeppelin this time). He hooked an arm around your waist and brought you flush against him, so he could turn you around and walk you back to the bed. 

You clung to his bare shoulders and savored the feeling of his warm, calloused hands burning up your thighs and ass, bunching the skirt of your dress. You helped him get it over your head and toss it onto the floor along with his clothes. 

As he held you by the waist, his gaze dipped for a moment to take you in, from bare thighs and hips and lacy panties, all the way up to your breasts cupped in your bra. Through panting breaths, you smiled and blushed at the heated depths of his green eyes. You felt like your heart was beating in and out of rhythm.  

But you managed to get a hold of your nerves long enough to drag your hands down his chest, down to his belt. You unclipped it for him and took your time in sliding the entire belt out of its loops. Then you let the brown leather fall to the floor. 

Russell raised a brow at you, smiling. Taking your challenge for what it was, he unbuttoned his jeans himself and aimed to step out of them, but he had some trouble when one of the pant legs got caught around his ankle and sock-covered foot.

“Shit,” he muttered as he stumbled a little. “Hold on.”

Unable to help a small giggle, you grabbed his left arm to help steady him. He hissed in pain, but he cleared his throat to cover it. You gasped as you realized what you’d done. You noticed then that he had a bandage tightly wrapped above his elbow, right below one of his tattoos.

“What’s this?” you asked in concern. You held his arm with both hands. “Did you get shot? Did you get this looked at when we were at the hospital?”

Russell staved off your questions with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay. This is old, just still healing up,” he said. 

You frowned up at him. “You got stabbed, shot, what? When did this happen? I thought you worked in private security.”

“A couple months ago. I got, uh, grazed. Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Sometimes the job gets a bit dicey.”

He could tell though, that you weren’t going to let it go easily. 

“Let me see,” you said, trying to peek under the bandage. Russell laughed and gathered you into his arms to stop your attempts. Your concern warmed him, but it wasn’t necessary. 

“I’m fine, sweetheart. I promise. Can we focus on the fun part, here?” he said.

Your brows furrowed. You opened your mouth to reply, but Russell saw the testiness in your eyes. He dipped down to kiss you, swallowing whatever snippy remark you were about to make.

You weren’t the only one giving into a craving here. Russell’s was bone-deep, molten in his blood, and getting to see you, to feel your soft body under his hands was already so much better than he’d imagined. His hold tightened on your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin.

A shudder ran up your spine at his touch. You circled your arms around his neck and let him continue ravishing you, then laying you down onto the bed. 

While you were careful about avoiding the bandage, your hand did drift down his arm, and further still, to palm at the straining bulge pressing against you. And Jesus Christ, did it feel generous. He grunted at your touch and paused with his lips against your jaw. 

“Well hey there, cowboy,” you said, adopting a more sensuous tone. “I had a feeling you’d be packing. What’s that, a .45, or a 38 Special?”

Russell’s eyes blinked wide. Then he erupted with deep laughter that made his shoulders shake. Aside from throwing a punch, your brother must’ve taught you something about guns too. 

“Well thank you, kindly,” Russell said, putting on a bit of a southern drawl, just to tease you. “But you’re about to find out, naughty girl.”

You giggled as he began to kiss your neck, languid and sloppy. He blazed a wet trail down the column of your throat and between your breasts. His beard rasping against your skin made you shudder a little, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, you quite liked that a lot.

He slipped a hand underneath you to unclip the black lace. You arched into him so he had easier access. 

He slid the bra from your body and tossed it somewhere behind him. Just as he’d imagined, you had beautiful tits. His lips explored each of them in turn, squeezing supple flesh and rolling your sensitive, hardened nipples with his tongue and fingers. 

It was a prequel, you thought, for what talents that mouth might have further down. You had to moan just at the idea, your fingers clenching in his hair, but also at the sensations he was drawing from your body wherever he touched. The man clearly knew what he was doing.

He traveled lower still and laid slow, occasionally nipping kisses across your stomach, hips and thighs. His fingers hooked around your panties and lowered them down your legs. You felt his warm breath panting against your thigh. You glanced down at him and tensed in anticipation. 

“Still good?” he checked, squeezing your hip. You smiled and reached for his hand. Russell gave it to you, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand in affection. 

“I think I’m about to be,” you said cheekily.

He smirked. His other hand smoothed up the inside of your thigh and slipped past your folds, finding wetness that already coated his digits.

“Goddamn. You’re soaked,” he said, just a hint teasing. “Bet if I put my mouth on you, you’d fuckin’ drown me.”

Again, he stopped whatever smart quip you were about to levy at him next when his fingers found your clit. You let out a gasping moan instead.

He decided that he already loved that sound. He endeavored to pull it from you, again and again when he began working you open with his fingers and pumping them inside you. He enjoyed seeing you writhe and arch against his hand. Your hands squeezed his arms, his shoulders, trying to anchor yourself.  

His thumb circled and strummed your clit in a rhythm only he could hear in his head, until you couldn’t help biting your nails into his shoulders when you came. You shuddered your release as your core throbbed with warmth and slick around his fingers. 

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he said. His voice rasped deep with arousal. “Wouldn’t even mind if you did drown me.” 

You huffed in response, unable to form speech just now.

Next time, Russell thought. He slipped his fingers out of you and licked them clean, making your eyes widen. He smirked and stroked your thigh as you came down, a shuddering mess.

After taking a second to regain your breath, you pulled him down for a kiss, both grateful and fueled by a passion you couldn’t put into words. What you felt for this man was instinctual, from the moment you saw him. And yet, it was also so much more. It was raw, and real, and maybe even beautiful.

The thought spurred you on as your hands moved with purpose down his body. Your nails caught at the waistband of his boxer briefs as you tried to roll them down. You got it halfway down his thighs, enough to let his hardened length spring free. You bit your lip at the mere sight of him. Goddamn.

Your hand slid around his cock, near its weeping head. You used the beads of wetness there to work your way smoothly down to its base. Russell’s body tensed above you, just before he groaned low in pleasure.    

You pushed at his chest to have him let you up. 

“Your turn, baby,” you said. It would be one hell of a challenge to get your mouth down that beautiful 44 Magnum, but you were more than willing to try.

To your surprise, Russell shook his head and guided you back down.

“Let’s pin that one for next time too. Wanna be inside you already,” he said.

You blinked, but then you nodded in breathless agreement. He kissed you deeply, devouring you with his teeth grazing your bottom lip. His tongue soon slipped out to soothe it.   

“Condom?” he panted, between kisses. 

“Oh, yeah. Um…bathroom, bottom drawer,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure why you were whispering. 

“Okay, two seconds,” he said.

He left you in the bed, quite literally hot and bothered, and very naked. You crossed your arms over your breasts on reflex while you tried to recover. Your core was still tingling, and your heart was beating fast, though you couldn’t stamp out the smile forming on your face. 

You heard the sound of foil unwrapping and clothed rustling. When he came back to the bedroom, you finally got a full picture of what you were in for. You unconsciously licked your lips as your gaze dipped down his body, and the indeed impressive package at full mast, and full display. 

A grin curved his lips when he caught you staring. He climbed back onto the bed with just a bit of struggle with all the blankets coiled about. He pushed a heavy blanket out of his way, accidentally shoving it to the floor.

“Back to business,” he said.

“Oh, yeah,” you agreed, and you welcomed him back, sliding your hands up his arms and shoulders. You hooked your thigh around his hip as he found his way back between your legs. Holding his bearded face in your hands, you pulled him in for another kiss that reignited you both. 

He sunk his hand into your hair and treated you to another slow, deep kiss. Until your thigh tightening around his hip urged him to satisfy what you both had been wanting and waiting for.

He grabbed your thighs and angled you higher. Then he lined himself up at your entrance. Looking into your eyes, your breaths mingling together, he sheathed himself a little at a time. A keening moan fell from your lips.

He started with shallow thrusts, giving you time to adjust. But that in itself was a torturous tease. It made the coil in your lower belly start to tighten again. Pleasure began to thrum inside you, ever slowly. Your head tipped back into the pillows with a gasp.  

“God, Russell, please,” you uttered. You squeezed his arms on reflex, your heels digging into his ass. 

“I know, baby. Gonna fucking wreck you, I promise,” he said with a grin. 

You huffed in amusement. That was a hefty promise.

Though a moan tore from your throat when he finally bottomed out, stretching your inner walls. He groaned along with you. His lips fastened to your neck as he gave you deeper thrusts.

“You feel so good,” you said raggedly in his ear, raking your fingers through his hair. You felt every damn inch of him.

“You too, baby. So damn good,” he gritted out. “Tell me what you want.”

He raised your thigh a bit higher, his fingers pressing into flesh.

“Ugh, fuck,” you gasped, as he hit a particularly delicious angle. “Whatever you want to give me.”

“You sure about that?” Russell asked, panting against your neck. Your nails dragged down his back between the muscles in his shoulders, hard enough to earn a halting groan from him.

You nodded empathically. “Yes!”

His lips hinted at a smile. “Okay, hold on."

Before you could even respond, he pulled out of you all the way, just so he could guide you over onto your stomach. He pulled you up onto your hands and knees. As he ran a hand down the gentle slope of your back and around the curve of your ass, you breathed harder in anticipation.

“So damn beautiful,” he muttered.

You glanced at him over your shoulder. You unconsciously bit your lip as your heart couldn’t help but swell at his words. Russell met you with a look that betrayed his desire, making your lower belly tremble as well.

He parted your cheeks and slotted himself between your thighs from behind. You once again felt the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, and then pushing back in with one deep plunge. Both of you let out moans of relief at the feeling.  

Pretty soon, he was pounding into you deeper and faster than before. Oh, fuck yes…

You clawed at the headboard, trying to find something to keep you stable. Russell’s arm slid around you for a solid support. You held onto him right back with one hand while he continued to drive into you, earning each and every sound coming out of your mouth. He’d finally angled you just right, so he could hit that special spot inside you with every thrust. Your pussy clenched on him in response, making him grunt in pleasure. 

“Fuck, you’re close. I can fuckin’ feel it,” he said, panting. He laid a biting kiss where your neck met your shoulder. You cried out in both pain and pleasure, your inner walls once again squeezing on him. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, breathless. “This time, you’re gonna come with me.”

You reached back and tangled your fingers into his hair. He held you to his chest and squeezed your breast a bit roughly. You uttered a wanton sound. You dragged his hand down your body to part your folds. You used his fingers to press against your clit. 

He picked up your hint, and then took control, massaging you with his fingers. There you began to tremble from the inside out. Warmth emanated from your core and spread outward, down to your toes as you came even harder on his cock. 

Russell wasn’t far behind. His voice joined yours as his body locked up, and he spilled hot into the condom. You almost wished he’d come freely inside you, so you could really feel him. Regardless, your body was boneless when he lowered you down onto the bed afterward.

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

He chuckled and kissed your shoulder, before he fully pulled out. Panting for breath though you both were, you managed to twist onto your side and reach a hand for his cheek. Your fingers slipped higher from there, cupping the back of his neck. Your thumb swept tenderly across his cheek, and you guided him down for a proper kiss.

Russell obliged you, his lips meeting yours plush and wet. He brushed strands of your sweaty hair away from your forehead with affection.

Somehow, that last kiss was softer than all the rest.

One thing was for sure though. There was no way you two were making it to breakfast. 

“I kind of feel bad now,” you later confessed. 

You and Russell were taking a few minutes just to recover under the messy sheets. He held you while sitting up against your headboard. He almost craved a smoke. You’d given him a damn workout. 

He smirked at the thought. Admittedly, his mind was more on focused on the scenes replaying in his head than on what you were saying. 

“Dory doesn’t get to see you guys that often,” you continued, “and who knows how long Colter will seriously wait for us to get out of bed.”

Russell’s attention drifted back to you at that.

“Come on, it’s not like they know why we’re running late,” he said. You gave him a knowing look. 

“Are you kidding? They were already suspicious when you brought me home yesterday,” you replied with a laugh. 

Russell grinned and rubbed your arm. He knew you were probably right, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Yeah, well. That was damn worth it,” he said.

You smiled. You rolled your head over on his shoulder, so you could see his face, but you became contemplative as uncertainty crept in. You let in a breath to gather your courage, and you decided to take a chance. 

“You know, drug dealers aside, Laramie isn’t such a bad place to live,” you pointed out. “We’ve got a movie theater, a couple good outlet malls, a new Tex-Mex restaurant that just opened down the street. I’m gonna have to find a new bar though.”

Russell smiled at you. He knew what you were suggesting.

He sighed as his amusement faded. 

“Look, even if I stay…” he hesitated.

He looked into your eyes and saw the vulnerability there. You were being honest with him, putting your heart into his hands. The least he could do was be honest. He covered your hand where it rested on his chest.

“If I’m on a job, I could be gone weeks at a time. I won’t be able to tell you where I am or what I’m doing. That’s gonna be hard on you,” he said. 

He knew his friend Doug made it work with his wife, but their relationship wasn’t without friction because of the job he and Russell shared.

“I can handle it,” you said firmly. 

“You just had a little freak out over a scratch earlier,” Russell pointed out, with a gesturing hand at his bandaged arm. 

“Okay, that’s different,” you said.

You wouldn’t say it now, but there were things that still concerned you about his job. You had a strong feeling that "private security" wasn’t all it entailed. However, after what he’d done for you, after what he’d done for Charlie, you knew that Russell Shaw was a good man.

There was something good here, and you didn’t want to lose it this time. You shifted in his arms, so you could face him.

“Look, we can sit down and figure all that out,” you said. “But do you want to at least try? Or…am I reading this wrong?”

Russell stared back at you ruefully. He raised a hand to touch your cheek, grazing your soft skin with his fingers. 

“No, you’re not,” he said. 

In fact, what he felt already ran deeper with you than he’d like to admit. He let out a long breath through his nose. 

“Okay,” he said at last. “If we’re gonna do this, let’s do it right, I guess. I’ll book a motel here in town for now. If things go well, I can…I don’t know, find an apartment.”

Your answering smile broke him down further, even as it warmed him inside. You turned over to circle your arms around his neck, and as an added bonus, pressing your bare breasts against his chest. You kissed his cheek with a happy hum. He laughed at your enthusiasm. He also accepted your sweet path of kisses that led to his lips. 

He groaned when it became not so sweet, with your tongue slipping hotly against his. His hold on your hips tightened.

“Uh oh. Baby, we can’t do this now,” he chuckled, even though your hand was already wandering down his body and under the sheets. You both were supposed to be getting ready to meet his brother and sister for lunch. 

“Five minutes,” you said against his lips. All the while, you were pushing him back onto the bed. You began to kiss down his chest, and lower still.   

Russell snorted. Right. 

But he wasn’t about to argue with you. He had a gut feeling…one that made him almost certain.

He’d found where he wanted to be. 

AN: Well, then! I hope you enjoyed the "happy ending." 😘 I always get a bit sad at the end of a series, but thank you to everyone who's followed the ride on Every Second Counts. Let me know what you thought of how it all shook out here at the end between her and Russell! 💜

And...if you'd like to read more about these two, feel free to send me your thoughts on that too!

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The Brother Trap

Fandom: DC Comics, Flashfam

Summary: Owen wants to connect with his half-brothers for the first time. Luckily for him, they all go to the same university. Will bad blood between twins keep Owen from the family of his dreams, or is he the missing piece they've always needed?

Chapters: 15/?

Characters: Owen Mercer, Axel Walker, Thad Thawne, Bart Allen, Meloni Thawne, Deborah Morgna, Preston Lindsay, President Thaddeus Thawne Mention

Relationships: Owen Mercer/Axel Walker, Thad Thawne/Deborah Morgna, PrestonBart

Additional Tags: POV Third Person, College AU, Angst and Fluff, Family Dynamics, Family Issues, No Powers AU

Chapter Fifteen: New Baby Boy

Meloni sat on the floor of Owen's apartment, wrapping his belongings in bubble wrap. "Owen, I know you didn't wanna ask me for help, but I'm so happy you did," Meloni whispered. Owen made two plates and took them to the coffee table.

"Mom, I'm not gonna be a burden. I'll cook, fix whatever you need me to fix—."

"Owen, what happened? Are you in trouble?" Meloni asked.

"No, it's nothing like that. Axel—. Before I tell you, Axel's everything to me. He's the only reason I didn't lose it after Dad died... But he's sensitive, and his roommate doesn't understand him. Axe does things sometimes without thinking and can really hurt somebody, but he's done great at controlling his temper—. He made a time-released paint bomb and set it off in his roommate's backpack causing three thousand in damages.

"He's helped me out before. So, I helped him. I love him, Mom. I love him more than I've ever loved anybody. He's the love of my life, even if he is a little rough around the edges," Owen confessed.

"Your dad would've said the same thing about me," Meloni smiled, "And I think Axel's a lovely young man."

"Mom... How'd you end up with my dad? I love him, but he was—. Dad-..."

"A criminal? Oh, I know. We stole from my dad a couple times when I was younger. We even vandalized his office once or twice," Meloni smiled. Owen's eyes widened as he ate his fish. Meloni took a bite. "Owen! Oh my—! You can cook."

"Thanks, Mom... Can we go back to the part where you said you committed crimes?" Owen asked.

"Only against my dad... It's weird because—. Owen, I understand what it's like to have a checkered past. We all do things for one reason or another, but that doesn't necessarily make us bad people," Meloni replied, "I—. Oh my god, you've gotta give me the recipe for this fish."

Owen laughed. "I'm glad you're my mom... I was so scared of you rejecting me, and I feel like you like me—."

"Correction. I love you," Meloni whispered, "What time do you go to work?"

"An hour from now... Mom, you don't have to keep packing after I leave... I'd feel safer if you—."

"Don't worry about me. Thad's coming over because he wants to watch a movie... And he likes packing," Meloni replied. Owen nodded. "What kind of fish is this?"

"Red snapper," Owen replied, "I mostly cook fish. I can cook just about any fish you could think of. Axe and I spent time on a fishing boat working under the table. This is basically code for: I was a cook, and Axe was my steward, and we slept on the floor between a mail crate and a water heater, which was illegal."

"What happened?" Meloni asked.

"I got pneumonia, and Axe had a cut that got infected and almost died... That and the company got sued, and we got a settlement... So, we took the money, got our high school equivalence done, and enrolled in school," Owen explained. Meloni smiled.

Axel came in with his duffel bag. "Sorry, I'm late. Hi, Mrs. Allen—."

"Meloni or Mel or Mom will do, Axel," Meloni interrupted. Owen stood up and made Axel a plate.

Axel put his bag down and washed his hands. "Mom?" Axel asked.

"Mhm. Are you alright? You look peaked," Meloni whispered before feeling his forehead.

Owen brought Axel his plate and kissed him on the cheek. "Mom's right... You look like you don't feel too good," Owen agreed, "Stay here with Mom and Thad tonight." He dumped the remaining food on his plate in Tupperware and put it in his lunch bag.

"I don't wanna cause any more problems than I—."

"You're not a problem. I've been dying to spend time with you," Meloni smiled.

Owen kissed Meloni's cheek. "Love you, Mom... Love you, Lollie," Owen whispered, "I gotta go to work." Then, he was gone.

"He calls you Lollie?" Meloni whispered. Axel blushed.

"He doesn't usually say it in front of people... His—. Digger didn't know," Axel replied, "It means a lot to him that you accept him as is. We talked at length about him being himself with you."

"Digger didn't know about you two?" Meloni asked. Axel shook his head.

"Wasn't an us two... I knew how Digger was, and I wouldn't—. I couldn't-. I love your son, and I would rather see him have a family than see him with me," Axel whispered.

"You don't have to do that. Axel, I see how Owen looks at you. He'd give anything to be with you. You should see how he looks when he talks about you. It's like you put the stars in the sky. It's beautiful," Meloni smiled, "How'd you two meet?"

Axel looked down at his plate. "Owen moved across the street from my group home... And we went to the same school for a while. So, he'd walk with me. I started staying there after school while he went to work. I'd break in and make myself something to eat... Then, he caught me. I expected him to beat me up, but he asked if I wanted a key.

"Eventually, we started hanging out on holidays and his days off... Then some stuff happened at the group home, and we started getting in trouble... Got mixed in with his Digger's friends, and then we met Digger. He was fun. Then, he died, and things got bad... And we ended up on that boat that almost killed us both..."

"Owen said you almost died," Meloni replied.

"I went septic fast, but I recovered faster than he did. He almost didn't make it," Axel replied, "But he always downplays how sick he was."

Meloni reached forward and moved a stray hair from Axel's face. "You two are gonna love each other forever... You know that?" Meloni whispered. Axel smiled.

"I hope so, Mrs. Allen," Axel replied, "As selfish as it is... I really hope so."

"Love isn't selfish if it's what the other person wants too... And call me Mel, Meloni, or Mom," Meloni giggled. She stood up and threw out her paper plate. "I'm so excited for you and Owen to come live with me... Even if it is for a little while... Axel, let me make you a cup of tea."

"Huh?" Axel whispered. Meloni reached into her purse and pulled out a box of tea.

"I carry everything in my purse. You never know when you're gonna get stuck somewhere... When I was pregnant with Owen, I once got stuck in a snowstorm in a cabin with nothing to eat but peanut butter and a can of sweet corn," Meloni recalled, "Does Owen eat sweet corn?"

"I thought he was insane when I first broke into his place because his cabinets were filled with cans of corn," Axel laughed. Meloni pulled out the couch bed and tucked in the blankets. "You're tired? I'm sure Owen'll let you take the bed."

"No... This is for you, sweetheart. You look like you don't feel well at all," Meloni whispered. Axel blinked hard.

"You don't have to be nice to me for Owen's sake," Axel whispered, rubbing his eyes with his palms.

"I'm not... I think you're adorable and charming, and I can't help but be a mom. I hope you don't mind me making you my newest little baby boy," Meloni half-joked.

"It's gonna take some getting used to," Axel replied, "But I like you, Mel... And I'm glad you're Owen's mom."