#but that he was a kid with so much potential
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It's funny with all the sudden parents and all, but think about how Danny being Calico is an open secret. It has so much potential.
Like- everyone knows. They dont say, nobody arrests him, but everyone knows and he knows that they know. It a Gotham secret.
And its just- imagine that it helps cover up the bats' identities? Because Bruce adopted WAY too many by now for people to not make any connections.
I bet the only thing holding them off is bad picture quality, stress of surviving everyday, simply not caring, and/or fanfiction. You can't tell me that people haven't shipped Bruce/Batman. You know how hard-core fans could be.
But now? Now it's "more concrete" that Bruce isn't Batman and the kids aren't the other vigilantes. After all, why would Batman keep a rogue as a child?
It's a stupid thing to think about considering Red Hood is still around and Robin (Damian) has a sword. But really, imagine it?
And its hilarious because people are actively cheering on the chaos gremlin. This is what they want! Sure, Bruce does great things with his charities, mass donations, and the WE stuff going (the last one they think is credited more on Tim and Damian though).
But it's not enough. Legal stuff is slow. Inventing and innovating things is difficult. The whole system is corrupt for fucks sake! It takes a hell of a lot more time to get shit done. I mean- look at the parks and plants around! Barely any, and Poison Ivy was out there killing because of all that pollution and plant killing!
Red Hood was making a difference. Sure, it was still dangerous in Crime Alley, but there was a huge difference from back then. It even impacted outside territories, too. So he didn't only help Crime Alley, but Gotham in general with the whole killing thing.
They needed more anti-heroes that made that large-scale change. And that's what Danny provided as Calico.
Also, the original post had "daylight vigilante turned dark" in it. Phantom is an obvious choice to think about but... but what if he wasn't?
Think about it. What other name could he have that he could commit to the bit to?
I just think it would be funny if he had another name. Not related to bats, birds, or (now) cats, but something like Signal in a way. Definitely a change of wardrobe. Probably uses the Phantom alias for big problems (alien invasions, Darkseid, big world catastrophe shit, ghost or magic stuff)
What if he did deal with magic? He's slowly getting rid of the curses in Gotham which is easier in the day since light weakens them (maybe).
That got off track, but yeah, imagine the drama he could cook up with not 1, not 2, not 3-
With 3 aliases!
(Familiar to anyone? Sorry, had to do it)
Just, just about the chaos he could brew. Duplication isn't that hard now that he has time to practice with decent enough sleep ;)
"And? What did you decide on?" Duke asks, fork slipping from his mouth and chewing, focused on Danny.
The boy in question hums. "Oh yeah, I'm totally joining in on the nightlife."
The statement has all of them stopping in their tracks, blatantly staring at the still eating boy.
"This will be my emo arc, daylight vigilante turned dark."
Tim snorts, Jason gives a smirk, nudging the eldest sibling next to him from his frozen state.
"Ooooh," Steph leans forward. "Have you decided? Bat or Bird?"
"New name?" Cass jumps in on the questioning with a small smile, eyes crinkling.
"Will you be joining us tonight then, danyal?" His twin speaks up for the first time during dinner, eyes narrowed and calculating.
"Yes." Is the short reply, with the way damian's lips turn down and displeasure makes itself clear, the intention of giving such a short answer has been met.
"Danny," Bruce gains the attention, leaning forward with his fingers interlocked and brows furrowed with what must be worry.
"Are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured into this just because everyone else is—"
"I'm more than sure, B!"
The man sighs. "And I won't be able to stop you?"
"Mhm." He gives a nod.
"Okay," his shoulders sag in defeat. "Do you have everything then—?"
"Yep!"
"Even—"
"B, I'm pretty sure I got everything, you can, if in your opinion I am missing something, give it to me later!"
Danny grins, pushing himself up from the table and rounding around towards the door.
"Besides! My whole get up will be a suprise!! So stay awake folks because I'm gonna blow ya all away."
As he leaves, Steph and Duke make sounds of anticipation, curiosity eating at all of them.
(They dont know whats gonna hit 'em.)
"I'm betting 50 bucks that he's gonna be a bat."
Alfred shakes his head at the newfound excitement.
—
What an exciting night.
There is still no sight of their newest, despite oracle's teasing, having apparently already been included in the suprise.
"Well well well," a sly, yet teasing voice makes itself into the open. Catwoman, in all her glory, walks up to the group of bats and birds.
"If it isn't the bat, what's with the gloomy face?"
Batman gives her a nod. "Cat."
Her eyes roam the group and she tilts her head. "Everyone seems to be here tonight." She comments.
"We're waiting," the man shares. "Our newest decided to be more secretive about his debut."
Catwoman gives him a smug smirk. "So I have heard," a chuckle. "I've come here to introduce you to someone, truthfully."
"Oh? Who is it?" Nightwing perks up, having finally decided to join in.
"Me."
Some yelp, whip their head around and away from the lady in black, gasps and cooing (particularly from steph) fill the roof and Danny joins them.
He wears black combat boots, they're heavy just from the look, but make no sound as he jumps around. The front of the boots look like cat paws, they're reaching up to his knees.
Then comes the baggy black pants, knees protected by poleyn and his belt acting as a cats tail. The hoodie he is wearing is also black, with fingerless gloves (only the middle finger is covered) and reaching up to his neck.
Instead of a domino mask, he wears a hood with cat ears and a dark face mask. Cass claps, knowing fully well he took inspiration from her own get up.
The whole outfit is detailed with orange spots, some parts brown and others grayish.
"Meet my new mentee, Calico."
Danny, Calico, waves.
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HR department romance plots
I just… beyond the surface level of enjoying a new game with new relationship dynamics to explore, I really can’t feel much about the DAV companions or their romances.
They all just seem so disconnected from the story, from Rook (who in turn is entirely disconnected from all kinds of feelings because Rook is just Employee Of the Year), from the world, from themselves. I feel like Cole here, looking at them and saying in my gentle, fleeting voice: even the dwarves don’t really remember dwarves. It really feels like the interpersonal relationships are written by the HR person who sits with you as union rep to tell you that you should use a positive language, that "we are all simply employees here, it doesn't matter what title you have", give a little pep talk about teamwork and how to get the job done. That's what we're here for. Everyone's equal. We all want the same thing here, your boss is your friend. Have you tried talking to this person, see their side of things, mmmm? It's just... yeah, they're cute, all of them. But why do they like each other? Why do they want to be with Rook? Who are they even in relation to the world of Thedas, what do they believe in, what have they overcome, what do they hate, what sort of prejudices do they carry around? I have no idea.
And since I’m also replaying DAI again, I wanted to compare these romances to my canon romances in DAI. With Blackwall, you immediately get a sense of attraction and a sort of flirting on his part that suggests this is something he falls into quite easily - “you know a lot about girls” to quote Cole - BUT it’s also something he really, really thinks he shouldn’t be doing now. Why? He is tied to the Warden plot, if you bring him along you get a sense of a man hiding shit but you don’t really understand what, and he still comes to see you (flying/climbing up your balcony wall idk) because he can’t step away. You get to tell him he’s a good man even though you know shit about that at this point, like with Anders in DA2 you can give your PC over to this passion/love despite knowing that there’s something off, something potentially harmful or dangerous. There is conflict, there are things that jar, that can even make you uncomfortable.
Blackwall as a character is open and compassionate. He approves of mercy, shows mercy, he isn't judgmental of others. In sharp and delicious contrast Blackwall’s crime is vile. He isn’t bound by any sort of oath, he can back down, there is no greater good whatsoever in his actions. It’s inexcusable. And yet. YET. You can CONTINUE THE ROMANCE. He killed a wagon full of kids, THEN RAN AWAY AND LET HIS MEN TAKE THE BLAME and hates himself so much that he tries to become someone else by erasing his previous self from the face of the earth. You can still kiss him and tell him you want him to live and redeem himself. It’s fucking incredible to think about this in the light of Veilguard actually. Your LI, the child murdering coward.
With Iron Bull you have the doubts all spread out on the table. He’s a spy, how could you ever trust him? He also doesn’t respond to your flirting, why the hell not when you hear through ambient dialogue that he’s fucking half the chantry, isn’t he supposed to be a fuckboy? But he’s fun, he’s a mystery, he’s got fascinating banter with everyone, he’s brought his found family along, he’s a Qunari who at least somewhat believes in the Qun - he’s got AMAZING conversations with Solas that characterizes Bull as deeply intelligent (and Solas as much more caring than he’d let on) and knowledgeable about surprising things like architecture. Cole, as always, gives us more insight into Bull’s mind along the way and even before the offer to ride the Bull, the idea of him has been through some adjustments. You change his idea about a lot of things and in return, Bull challenges your idea of him, your idea of the Qun, your idea of the world and possibly, depending on how you react to his romance, your idea of intimate relationships. The game’s writing allowed me to imagine a rather frumpy circle mage in her mid 30s reluctantly forming a friendship with this strange fellow, only to find herself very much attracted to him, only to find herself being cared for in a way she would never have let anyone do before simply because Bull told her that was the only way he’d be with her. This is how we’ll do it, are you in? Your LI, the service top Qunari spy who is terrified he’ll run mad without his belief system to dictate his actions.
And Solas. I mean mythical love stories culminating in mythical endings aside, what I really fell for in this relationship was the refreshing dynamic not of enemies to lovers but of two souls just sort of connecting instantly during strange events, taking a few hard looks at each other and going oh shit it’s you, you get me HOW is it possible you get me when nobody else does? There’s so much external drama surrounding them, which is why I personally LOVE and ADORE how calm their internal connection actually is. They know, so early in the game, that this is it. You’re my home, you understand the bones of me, you ask questions no one else thinks of asking, you care about the world in a way I haven’t seen anyone else do. He is LITERALLY the only one who understands your Lavellan when they make her the herald, when she protests and they keep pushing and pulling and sing their song after Haven, and Solas is there to be sarcastic about it. If nothing else, I'd fall in love with that. And there’s this sense of impossibility from the very beginning, a sense of it being almost unreal because the first kiss is in the Fade, the second is in a frenzy where Solas goes from 0 to I LOVE YOU, MY HEART and then leaves and you know, you know how this is coded and YET - he seemed so wise and kind and sad, it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth. And even with this connection of souls, things chafe - he’s an absolute bastard about certain things, he mocks your heritage and you don’t know yet that it’s because a huge guilt blanket rests on top of him since thousands of years back, you can just argue back and receive his disapproval. He says it’s selfish of him to start anything with you yet he does - WHY DO YOU DO THAT, SAD EGG? Your LI, the ancient god of rebellion, treachery and lies, depending on the story.
Even beyond my favourites, there are conflicts. Sera is A LOT (affectionate) if you're an elf, with Cullen you get a substance abuse story-line tied to his general dismay about his past as a really fucked up templar, Dorian has personal trauma and cultural prejudice he struggles with for the entire game, Vivienne is so complex half the fandom hates her and has very awkward and uncomfortable banters with almost everyone (save for Bull because he treats her like he would a tamassran), Cassandra is constantly challenged in her personal beliefs, very clearly reflected in her conversations with Solas and Cole has a whole personal plotline about deeply existentialist matters. What does it mean to be alive? Who is a person and who gets to decide that? He could have been a person, Varric says. Isn't he already? Does this unit have a soul? Not to mention that Cole functions chiefly as a speaker of truths, bringing a lot of complexity to the others.
DAI is not perfect by any means but I feel like I know these bastards. I feel like my PC or even I could actively dislike some of them, because they are written to create dynamic conflicts inside and outside of their own arcs. I can write fic about them, I can imagine what they're doing during the events of DAV because I know them.
Because they are written like actual people in a world where some people have power over others and some people have been raised with a certain belief system and some people just have shitty takes on society, may they learn.
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mama, a stray kid behind YOU ★ @seunghyunjigglers
ot8 skz members as brainrot memes!
author's note: we even included links for some of the less chronically online divas out there (generous much?)! a lot of thought and effort went into this and we hope you love and appreciate our firstborn child. tw: dark humor. betas, do not interact!
chan ★ "i'm the leader, i'm the alpha, i'm the one to trust"
unironically watches bad edits of himself and goes "ayeee" to hype himself up about being edited
comments under them on his secret account
his fyp is now most definitely infiltrated by alpha chan edits
let's be real the whole trend was probably what inspired wolfgang to be released
bites his lip bc he thinks it makes him look sexy and he just looks like he's eating his bottom lip
tries to do that thing where guys put their necklace between their lips and take pics to be sexy but the necklace falls down his throat and he starts choking
would deliberately start doing aegyo followed by serving face to show his 'duality' since apparently the fandom love it (poor guy doesn't understand irony still)
LOVES when stays talk about his gyatt and starts using it bc he thinks its just another normal word for ass and seungmin and felix almost throw up laughing at him
minho ★ "queen never cry"
genuinely thought 'lock in' was something to be taken seriously and does NOT take it lightly when chan tells everyone to lock in
his kinky ass also probably thought it was some kind of jail roleplay (jisung had to explain it to him)
has mewing competitions with himself in the mirror
makes 'minho never CRY 💜' the note on his alarm in the morning
thinks it’s funny when he recommends the ki sisters manga (where the meme comes from) to people as his favorite series and the poor author has to actually go on a talk show cause he blew it up with the internet
checks his notifications EVERY day hoping someone will edit him with that baby
accidentally comments “queen NEVER cry” under a sentimental skz edit on the official account and wakes up with several calls from his managers.. let’s just say it didn’t go over well
changbin ★ "gadagadegadagadao" (omega nugget)
he stumbled across this meme on felix's fyp one evening and thought it would make the best vocal warmup for his raps, didn't realise it was a joke and actually uses it before recording tracks
when he discovers its a meme he thinks its hilarious and makes it his whole personality
stops mid convo with people and makes the face and thinks he's so funny (everyone is tired of it)
orders mcdonald's for everyone and takes the time to draw the face on EVERY chicken nugget and couldn't be prouder of himself
genuinely thinks the song is an actual banger and has it saved as a sample for a potential title track
hyunjin ★ "donatella VERSACE"
only types like THIS 💜 and felix and seungmin are the only ones who get it
chan finds out and secretly changes his name in a groupchat with their managers and staff to "hwang HYUNJIN 💜"
he is tired but donatella is not
his gag christmas present for secret santa is boxers with ms versace herself covering his chocolate starfish and he has a wardrobe malfunction while wearing them at a show and EVERYONE sees
is actually really embarrassed when he has to explain what it means to her and she just nods and tries to smile with all her botox
after this she comments it on all her posts and he accepts that he’s never escaping it
jisung ★ "jiafei 'in my head' remix" (floptropica)
this man is always singing his lungs out in every skz code and somewhere along the way he saw an edit of him with jiafei's vocals in the bg
was actually impressed by her vocal skills and tried to hunt down her ig page, ends up on some fake floptropican fanpage but he doesn't know this because he has minimal survival skills
dms some loser message like "wow your voice is sooooo nice haha...i also like to sing lol...so do you like korean boys haha..."
owner of the jiafei fan account is a stay and thinks this is hilarious and catfishes the hell out of him for WEEKS, sends vocal edits and jisung unironically eats them up, he def sends back vms of him doing vocal covers to impress her
felix hears him singing a jiafei remix one day and almost shits himself laughing, jisung gets angry and defensive until felix reveals that jiafei is literally a meme
realises he's been catfished
blocks the account and gets sulky whenever any floptropican edit pops up on his fyp, but still sings the jiafei remixes quietly to himself (some habits are hard to break)
felix ★ "oi oi oi...baka" (freaky larvae)
recreates it and everyone takes it seriously and he has to make a video telling everyone it was not in fact a thirst trap
breaks up serious arguments like "we need to calm down...you're all being a bunch of...heh...bakas..."
searches it up one day to see if there's any other lore and accidentally discovers a yagami yato audio and gets traumatised
seungmin gets fed up by felix constantly repeating it so he comes up with a master plan and during one of their japan concerts says "oh, felix has been practicing his japanese lately...what's that thing you keep saying?"
i feel like he'd perfect that freaky expression and everyone is sick of him and changbin for randomly using them
picks larva on his turn to choose something for movie night and everyone comically (see what i did there) groans and gets up while he’s just there cracking up
seungmin ★ "saddam hussein hiding spot"
this guy saw a 'saddam hussein hiding spot' comment under jeongin's post and fell down the rabbithole (or rather, the entrance covered in bricks and rubble)
thinks its HILARIOUS because it's a historically accurate meme (nerd!)
definitely whispers it every single time he sees someone or something laying down and everyone is so fed up with it, also gets felix to do the voice since he can imitate it perfectly
uses it as an excuse to randomly start lying down during dance practices and when everyone complains he just says "why am i lowkey serving saddama hussein hiding spot?"
he'd take this shi so seriously like he'd be doing the math to figure out how much time to spend on each app each day so he can make his daily screen time average look like saddam hussein JUST to make the reference
jeongin ★ "that feeling when knee surgery is tomorrow"
someone makes a comment about how they tore their acl and have to get knee surgery and he goes "that feeling when knee surgery is tomorrow" and starts laughing
it wasn't very funny to said someone
probably has to make one of those formal instagram apology posts because of it (he sets the music as the bg for the original post but his manager makes him delete it and post again)
fake falls at practice and when everyone crowds around him all worried he says he feels like he might need knee surgery tomorrow and gets kicked out of the room
pays an insane amount of money to get everyone matching knee surgery knee pads for practice and absolutely loses it every time someone actually needs to use it and has no other choice
posts a fake hospital pic with “do NOT get your knee surgery from shein !!” on his secret account
asks for permission to change his pfp to the grinch and considers outing jyp when he gets told no
#skz#skz imagines#stray kids#skz smut#stray kids smut#bangchan#lee know#changbin#hyunjin#han jisung#lee felix#seungmin#jeongin#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#skz fic#skz x reader#skz x you#stray kids x reader#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#skz imagine#stay kids imagines#skz kpop#skz meme#stray kids meme#skz memes#stray kids x you#stray kids ot8#skz ot8
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I was soooooooo excited for this! *breathes in sharply* Okay let's get started 🍿😎👏
“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.”
I love their friendship so much 😂 And kudos to Dory. It takes a lot to agree to this. It could potentially get very awkward 😝
“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”
God, I know. This is honestly what I think about the most when I watch Tracker. The whole story line is insane and intriguing and... 😅 I have a thousand questions, and there's so much you could do with it in fics. I love it (clearly) 😂🤍
Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”
I do think Russell knows a lot more about their past than he lets on. Also, he was way too chipper for someone who was accused of patricide by his own brother for twenty years. The dynamic between the brothers is just... interesting 👀
Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.
Right... 😆
“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said.
Oh, she's going full Reagan! 😂 I sense some trouble coming from the brother, though...
“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”
Well, I hope he already picked out his casket... 🙈💀
“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.
I'd be a puddle before I even made it to the damn seat 🫠
And they are literally so cute together! I'm full on swooning over here 😍
Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.
Ah, yes, the family business. Love that sublte hint 😆 Would be a good name for a brewery, tho 👍
He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.
I like that you emphasized the darker parts of his life. Like I said, I don't buy his whole "I'm happy and funny and quirky" act. There's a lot more stirring beneath the charming surface 😅 (Another thing he has in common with Dean lol)
And oh, don't we love a good cry on the first date? Poor thing 😂🤍
“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said. “Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.” He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”
Indeed 😂 I would've loved to be a fly on the wall when Dory had this conversation with her lol
How he very eloquently avoided talking about Colter accusing him of murdering their father. I wanna be a fly on the wall for that future convo too 🤣
And he slapped you right on the ass.
Loved that she got a punch in before even Russell got there. He might have actually killed that pig lmao
“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.
I'm having vivid flashbacks to Smoke Eater 🥵🔥
But his hands were gentle for you.
This line just about killed me... 🫠🫠🫠
“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”
I appreciate that kind of humor 😂😂
“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.
I absolutely can see him saying that 💯😂
He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car.
Probably one of my favorite scenes is when characters are so hot for each other they lean against a car. There's just something so incredibly passionate about it 🔥🫠
“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.
Oh, Russell, this is not what the lady wants to hear. Bless him tho 😂
And I figured she wanted more than a one-night-stand or fling. His job and lifestyle truly is a bit of a problem. But he wanted out anyways, so... 🤞
I loved their first date! 😍🤍 Hopefully, they'll see each other again soon and might give this another shot. I have a feeling it's gonna involve her brother's bullshit somehow 😅
Every Second Counts - Part 1
Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader
Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him.
AN: Finally, here we are at Part 1! Remember that A Line and a Half functions as our prologue here.
Word Count: 5.7K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some mature thoughts. Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, drug use, mentions of drug addiction and alcoholism, skeevy men, and a tinge of spice.~
💜 Series Masterlist
Part 1: "Permission Granted"
“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips.
You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still at the Wyoming University campus after your last class.
Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.
“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.
After brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, she went to you and set her hands on your shoulders.
“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.”
Your face began to heat up in a blush. You crossed your arms.
“All right, no one said there was going to be any of that,” you replied. “It’s just a date. Barely a date, mind you.”
“A-huh,” Dory said with a sneaking smile. “Out of curiosity, what was it about him that hooked you? You’ve been dodging Chris’s valiant attempts for like a month now.”
Chris was a French and Spanish professor. His office was on the same floor as yours, so you two occasionally crossed paths whenever you ventured into the teacher’s lounge.
He usually caught you in the morning while you were grabbing your free coffee fix at the Keurig. He’d chat you up about his classes and his dog and his new boat, and all the while you’d struggle to get a word in edgewise. Despite that, he was good-looking and pleasant, for the most part. It was just…
“I don’t know. He’s not my type, I guess,” you shrugged. You kind of liked conversations where both people got to speak.
“And Russell is?” Dory said, in a teasing tone. You chewed the inside of your lip, fighting a smile.
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Kind of want to find out though.”
“Okay, well, let me know what you find,” Dory said, more wryly. You caught a bit of melancholy when her gaze drifted off. Your brows furrowed in concern as you drew closer, setting a hand on her arm.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
She was hesitant, but she eventually answered you with a confession.
“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”
You could understand that. You squeezed her arm in sympathy.
“Well, he really seems to want to know you now,” you said. You remembered all the questions he asked you when he helped you carry your files back to your office after lunch today—most of them about Dory, about her career, your friendship, and ultimately, if she was happy.
“What happened to you guys?” you asked. “Why are you all so distant? Colter included.”
Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”
You dimmed at that. You knew their mother still lived in the cabin they grew up in, but Dory had never quite been able to tell you what happened to their dad. You’d never pushed the subject. You knew better than anyone what kind of pain that was.
“I just wish we’d been able to stay with each other. Me and my brothers, at least,” Dory said. But she adopted a smile for you, before she returned to her desk.
“Okay. Go on your non-date at your favorite bar with Russell. I’ll be here, grading papers until Judgment Day,” she said, with a small laugh that felt like a coverup for thoughts she no longer wanted to think about.
You let her do it. You grabbed your purse and work bag off the spare chair in front of her desk.
“So you’re sure,” you wanted to confirm. “One last chance for me to tell him I came down with food poisoning.”
Dory collected her stack of midterm papers and gave you a cheeky look that said, class dismissed. Then she clicked her red pen and pointedly looked down at the first batch of papers to read through.
You smiled. Okay, you thought, giving her a little wave goodbye when you turned to leave. You had just a couple of hours to drive home and get ready to meet Russell.
“Goodnight,” you called.
“Goodniiight,” Dory replied.
You heard the smirk in her voice without even having to look back.
After fighting through rush hour traffic, you were exhausted when you got home from work. Your tentative excitement and nerves about tonight gave you some new energy though, even if you thought those nerves were silly to have.
Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.
The Ring Camera beside the door chimed when you entered the house, signaling your arrival. You had to wrinkle your nose at the dank-ass smell that greeted you.
Frowning in annoyance, you dropped your stuff on the kitchen table for now and shucked off your heels. You made a beeline down the hall, to the bedroom that lied across from yours. You pushed it open without knocking. There you caught your older brother, Charlie, snoozing in his bed with the covers half pooling on the floor.
His room was a mess, as usual. Your gaze locked on the evidence of half a blunt on his nightstand and two smoked roaches beside it. You were glad it wasn’t remnants of white lines of powder, like times before, but there was also a large bottle of whiskey. It was almost empty, and hanging loosely from his hand.
He managed to raise his head a bit when you came in.
“Hey,” he said, blinking bleary eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up.
You shook your head and picked around piles of dirty clothes and a couple of used paper plates on the floor. You swiftly grabbed the bottle from his hand and slammed it on the nightstand.
“You promised me, Charlie,” you snapped. “You promised me for the hundredth time that you’d quit all this shit. Where even were you last night? You weren’t home when I left for work this morning.”
He sighed, frowning at how loud you were, and sat up in bed. He swung his legs over the side and held his swimming head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair. It was nearly black, like Dad’s had been, but he’d inherited Mom’s lighter eyes.
“I got invited to a party,” he said. “I’m sorry, I know. This is the last time.”
You expelled a frustrated breath and shook your head.
“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said.
“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” he said. He shut his eyes tight, probably trying to fend off a headache.
Good, you thought. Let that be a reminder of how bad he’d screwed up again.
“And while we’re at it, what about your half of the bills? You’re a week late,” you said, testily crossing your arms.
“Yeah, I’m a little behind,” he said. Once again, he cleared his throat past a wad of phlegm. He was still a bit crossfaded too, you could tell. “You know they cut my hours to part-time at the museum. I’ve, uh, I’ve been looking into getting another job—”
“I already paid the phone bill. And the internet, the water bill, the electricity,” you said. “The house may be paid off, but the least you can do is pay your half of living here.”
The longer you stared at him, seeing the guilt hidden behind drunken eyes, you realized he wasn’t just late on his half of the bills.
“How much?” you asked.
He frowned up at you. “What?”
“How much do you owe?” you said. Your voice was as cutting as your gaze. Charlie lowered his.
“It’s okay, don’t worry—”
“How much,” you pressed.
He looked up at you again, this time with pursed lips. After a beat, he sighed and gave in.
“About two grand,” he admitted.
You raised your eyes heavenward, muttering a curse. Your hands went to your temples as you had to pace the room. You were angry and exasperated in equal measure.
“Who the fuck do you owe two grand?!” you asked.
Charlie shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t tell you that.”
You paused. As you looked down at him, your anger dissolved into sadness, like it always did.
“If Mom and Dad could see you now, they wouldn’t recognize you,” you said.
Charlie fought not to react to that, his brows furrowing. Instead, he just looked down, unable to answer you.
“Charlie, you need help. I can’t keep doing this with you,” you said. Your shaky breath gave way to the burn of tears.
His red-rimmed eyes became glassy as well.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said.
He was always sorry. And you always had to be the one to nurse him back to health, pick up the pieces, pay the bills. You were exhausted. The bone-deep kind of tired that felt like gravity wasn't so much keeping you down, but pushing you.
“I’m going to ask for two things: do what you need to do to get paid, and clean up your shit. If you can’t accomplish that, then I’m taking you to rehab,” you said.
“You know I’ve tried that,” Charlie said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really work for me.”
“You left the program after two weeks!” you retorted.
“I did it on my own! I’ve been clean for months,” he argued.
“And what happened? You go to one party and all your good sense, all your training, mentally and physically—that all goes out the window?” you said. You had half a mind not to believe him.
“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”
Your mouth fell open incredulously.
“I’m on your back?” you said. “Okay. I’ll get off. Do whatever the hell you want, Charlie. I’m done.”
You left his room in an angry huff. You headed over to your room so you could take a shower and start getting ready to meet Russell at Howley’s.
By the time you got to your bedroom, you heard the front door slam closed.
The truth was, you were no longer in a mood to have fun when you pulled up to Howley’s, but you needed to escape your house. Also, you weren’t someone who canceled on people last-minute, especially not on Dory’s own brother.
You found Russell waiting for you at the bar. He waved to you with a fifth of whiskey in hand and an easy grin. He’d saved you a seat beside him.
You found yourself smiling. Your mood began to lighten as you went over to him. He looked more or less the same, but this time the jacket and jeans combo was navy blue and dark wash, respectively. His hair was swept back, lightly gelled. You smelled the familiar, rich woodiness of his cologne when you drew near, along with a hint of spicy soap.
“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.
“Hey, yourself,” you replied, and thanked him for the assist onto the tall stool. You’d opted for jeans and a blouse, paired with your favorite leather boots. It was less dressy than he’d seen you before, but that was “work mode.” This was a more casual affair, even if you’d spent at least twenty extra minutes on your makeup.
You were glad he picked a spot at the end of the bar though. It put some distance from the group of guys getting rowdy as they cheered at the football game playing on the TV.
“How was the rest of your day, Professor?” he asked. “And what’re you wanting to drink?”
You let out a long sigh and turned toward him, resting your elbow on the counter.
“Awesome. I’m going to need two shots of tequila and an order of something fried, and preferably covered with cheese, please,” you replied.
Russell’s grin deepened. “Okay, I’m thinking ‘awesome’ is code for something. But we can get started on that order of Forget Today’s Unfortunate Events.”
He flagged down the bartender with a raise of his hand, but he shot you a glance.
“Though I’m hoping it’s not all of today that you wanna forget,” he said.
Your lips threatened another smile, as the memory of your hand being swept up into his, and soft lips meeting the back of your hand filtered through your mind.
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible,” you said.
After about ten minutes of playfully debating the appetizer menu (you swore by the pretzel and beer cheese, but Russell had his eye on those spicy wings), he finally settled on ordering both.
“When in doubt, don’t go without,” he’d remarked.
You swept a pretty coil of hair over your shoulder and downed your tequila shots with a lime wedge. Meanwhile, Russell tried not to linger his eyes on the way your tongue swept over your finger to catch a drop of lime juice. Your nails were manicured, and the shade of the polish matched your lipstick.
Russell didn’t pretend to know the art and science of a woman’s wardrobe, but everything about you was thought out, it seemed, falling in line with what he’d expect from a (sexy as all hell) college professor. You’d also told him at lunch today that as of last year, you now had two doctorates: History and Ancient Studies.
Even with all that under your belt, you also seemed refreshingly down-to-earth, a lot like Dory in that sense. He could see why you two were friends.
“So, are you from here, or are you a transplant, like my sister?” he asked.
Dory hadn’t come to live in Wyoming until their aunt and uncle took her in, when she was about eight years old. Before last month, Russell hadn’t seen her since. It hurt his heart to think about, but he tried to focus on you.
You now seemed to be staring a bit listlessly at the glass of whiskey in his hands. He laid a hand on your arm and called your name.
“Hmm?” Your brows rose as you blinked to attention. “Oh! I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve lived here pretty much forever.”
“You okay?” Russell asked. “Tequila hit ya a little hard?”
You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry…”
You raised your hands up to your temples. You debated whether you wanted to open up about this, but…considering who Russell was, you thought he might just understand.
“Dory told me you’ve been trying to reconnect with your brother, right? Colter?” you said.
Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.
“Well, you could say I’ve got a brother issue of my own,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “You don’t have to talk about yours, but maybe you’ll understand… My brother is a veteran too. He was a Captain, air force pilot. He fought in Afghanistan, mainly.”
Russell processed that with a nod. “Yeah, I was there too. Special Ops.”
“Wow, okay. Then you know what it was like for him, coming back home,” you said. Your gaze fell to your empty shot glasses. “It was hard, after…”
“After?” he prompted.
You sighed. “Near the end, he lost half his unit in a raid, off of some flawed intel.”
Russell’s brows knitted together. Hmm. Grief, survivor’s guilt, feeling like you don’t belong.
He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.
You didn’t notice, but you did push the shot glasses away from you.
“I helped him the best I could,” you said. “I got him a job at the museum I interned at when I was in undergrad. He’s there as a security guard, but it’s not really enough, you know? It’s like, nothing satisfies him. I just…I don’t think I know how to help him anymore.”
You couldn’t help it. Emotion bubbled in your throat, making it close up on you as tears stung in your eyes. Your lower lip wobbled, and you tried to turn your face away. Embarrassment coiled up in your chest and made your face hot.
You felt a hand cover yours on your thigh, squeezing warmly. You looked up and met Russell’s gaze, both sympathetic and understanding.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to calm your shuddering breath. “This isn’t exactly first date material. I can’t believe I unloaded on you like that.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Believe me, I get what your brother’s going through.”
He pushed the plate with the last piece of soft-baked pretzel over to you.
“You finish that if you want, then you go ahead and pick something else off the menu. I won’t even argue with you this time,” he promised with a grin.
It got you to laugh, at least, and he gave you a napkin for your tears.
God, get it together, you told yourself. You’re a damn mess.
“Thanks,” you said. You managed to smile as you blotted at one corner of your eye. You hoped you hadn’t just irreversibly smudged your mascara.
Russell surprised you by brushing his thumb against your other cheek, wiping a stray tear away. Your face began to warm with a blush.
“Again, I’m sorry for dumping on you. We had a fight right when I got home,” you admitted.
“What’s his name?” Russell asked.
“Charlie.”
“Older or younger than you?”
“Four years older,” you replied. “He enlisted a few years after he graduated high school.”
Russell flickered at a smile. Enlisted, huh?
Yet another thing he and Charlie had in common, except Russell hadn’t made it through high school in the classic sense.
“What do you think?” you asked.
“I think your brother sounds lost right now. I’ve known a lotta guys like him, unfortunately,” Russell admitted. “Walking back into civilian life, it ain’t easy. That I know my damn self. Just like I know a thing or two about being an older brother. He’s probably doing his best to keep it off your shoulders.”
You shook your head at that. Trying, maybe.
You weren’t even sure of that anymore. Still, it made you all the more curious about Russell and his family.
“I know I said I wouldn’t ask this, and you don’t have to answer. But did you and Colter have a falling out or something?” you asked.
Russell expelled a deep breath and took a sip from his glass. How was he supposed to navigate this minefield with you?
“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said.
“Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.”
He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”
He shook his head and drained the rest of his glass.
“Well, my brother’s got an idea about me that isn’t true,” he said.
Your head tilted in curiosity. “Which is?”
His lips briefly raised in a wan smile.
“We don’t gotta get into that one tonight. But uh, the truth is, I’ve tried reaching out to him several times now. He just doesn’t wanna hear from me,” said Russell.
You considered him for a moment. You laid a hand on his arm, covered by his jacket.
“Don’t give up,” you said, with a sigh of your own. “Despite some things I said to him today, I know I can’t. My brother’s the only real family I have.”
Russell grew curious then. “What about your parents?”
You gave a weak smile.
“They passed away when we were young, but…we don’t have to get into that one tonight,” you said, borrowing his words.
His expression fell. “Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you,” you accepted, twisting the napkin around your fingers.
An awkward lull of silence fell between you, until Russell nodded and blew out a breath.
“Well. Heavy, huh?”
You chuckled and rested your head against your hand.
“I know. Again, my fault,” you replied.
“It’s okay, swee—. Mmm,” he cut himself off, shooting you a knowing glance.
“Were you about to sweetheart me?” you asked playfully, nudging his hand. “You know how I feel about that.”
“No, ma’am. Not at all,” Russell shook his head. His smile gave him away though. You laughed and grabbed his arm.
“Come on,” you said.
He allowed you to lead him out of his seat. He already had a tab open, so he’d settle up with the bar later. “Where we going?”
“You’re gonna lose to me at pool,” you said with a smirk.
Russell laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist instead.
“Oh, okay. I’m gonna give you a run for your money, though,” he promised.
And he was true to his word.
Russell Shaw turned out to be a more than worthy opponent. You studied the board as you changed the angle on your cue stick no less than five times.
“You gonna make a move, or we going to be here all night?” he said.
He was smiling as he leaned against his own cue on the other side of the board. His clever moves had left you in a difficult position to get your three remaining solid-colored balls into the pocket.
“You hush. I’m thinking,” you said, fighting your own smile.
“Careful, you’ve got steam coming out of your ears,” he teased.
You shot him a narrowed look for that. But then you smiled, as the answer came to you. You walked around to his side of the board and nudged him with your hip.
“Excuse me, sir,” you said to him over your shoulder.
Russell made way for you, but his eyes followed the way you bent over to line up your shot. Namely the curve of your ass in those tight jeans. He could see you knew exactly what you were doing, in more ways than one.
You shot your shot. The solid green ball leapt over his white-striped blue one and managed to sink into the pocket. You straightened up and gave him a triumphant little smirk.
He tried to temper his smile (and ignore the way his cock twitched).
“All right, go on, do your little victory lap," he said. "But remember, I let you go first.”
“Like that matters,” you quipped back.
You went back to the other side of the board to line up your next shot. Russell noticed a pair of drunk men ambling your way from the bar, but before he could make a subtle move to put himself in between, one of the men’s gazes slid down your form and gave into the base urge to let out a low whistle.
And he slapped you right on the ass.
You gasped, grabbing hold of the pool table. Then your shock melted into ire.
Russell was already heading toward you with an angry frown of his own, but even he had to stop short, when he watched you throw a punch that cracked the drunken man across the bridge of his nose.
Good form, Russell thought, when the guy reared back with a howl. His nose dripped blood when his hands came away from his face.
His buddy started to raise his hackles, but that was when Russell stepped to your side. He angled himself toward you and loosely gripped his pool cue by his hip, like it was an extension of his arm. He was fully prepared to use it like one.
“Fucking bitch!” said the one who was still dabbing his nose in vain. He glared at you, his eyes watering involuntarily, while his friend tried to keep him upright. You rolled your eyes.
"You're the one who's crying, bitch," you returned. Russell held in a snort. He cleared his throat and looked on at the pair of idiots.
“I’d have a little sit down if I were you,” Russell told them, with a smirk. “Let that be a lesson to ya. And if it don’t stick? Well. Whatever you start, I can damn well finish.”
His steely gaze reinforced the promise of his words. The other men were still angry, but even drunks had some sense of self-preservation. They ambled toward the back of the bar to find another pool table.
Russell focused his attention back on you, finding you looking down at your hand, rotating your wrist and flexing your fingers.
“Well, look at you, slugger,” he said. You met his smile with one of amusement.
“That’s just what I needed tonight. A broken hand,” you quipped.
“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.
Damn, she really gave it to him, Russell thought.
“Sorry,” he said, but your hand felt fine, at least. More than fine. His gaze flicked up to yours as his amused grin deepened. “Good hit though.”
If he liked you before, he might’ve fallen half in love with you right there.
You laughed through the pain. “Yeah, my brother did teach me something. Shit.”
Russell led you back to the bar after you grabbed your purse. There he called to the bartender for some ice. The guy nodded; he’d seen the entire exchange and was sympathetic.
You knew this sort of thing was just par for the course at this kind of bar, but they had the best drinks. Charlie had to carry you out of here on your twenty-first birthday, drunk off your ass. Not to mention, he’d punched out two handsy dicks that night.
You recounted the story to Russell over a couple more drinks. Your conversation was lighter then, filled with laughter and a warm, companiable feeling. He was still rather evasive about his job, but you supposed he had to be, since it was government contract work.
Private security, mainly. Or so he'd said. This man made you infinitely curious, and a bit apprehensive, if you were honest.
And yet, at some point while you two shared and laughed and split a hot sandwich with another round of beers, you realized it.
I like this, you thought. And I like him.
However, the night had to come to an end sometime. Your third involuntary yawn told Russell it was time to call it.
"I'm okay," you tried.
"Nah, you've gotta work tomorrow," he said. He signaled to the bartender. "Let me go ahead and close out my tab."
“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, reaching for your purse now hanging from your hip.
“You kidding me? Put that away,” he said, guiding your hand with your wallet aside.
Smiling, you accepted his generosity with a small thank you. Then, you let him take up your sore hand again, just to carefully press the half-melted bag of ice over it.
“Feelin’ better?” he asked.
Your smile became softer. “Yeah.”
You had no doubt that this man, tall as he was, with his broad shoulders and the controlled way he carried himself, could’ve laid both of those drunken assholes onto their asses. His intimidating gaze had promised as much.
But his hands were gentle for you.
“I was about to win that game, no contest!” you said, laughing as you and Russell headed out of the bar and into the parking lot.
“Hey, hey, I still had time to win it back,” he argued. “I only had three more balls to go. I could’ve sunk that with my eyes closed.”
“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”
Russell snorted. “You think you’re funny, huh?”
“Hey, you laughed!” you said, pointing at him.
He shook his head, despite his amusement. He slowed to a stop in front of his car.
“Where’d you park, huh?” he asked.
“Over there,” you said, pointing several parking spaces down. Your eyes were drawn to his car, however. “Wow. This is your car?”
Russell grinned and patted the top of his black Chevy.
“Aw, yeah. That’s my baby,” he said. “She’s a Chevelle, 1967.”
You didn’t know much about cars, but you could see this was a classic beauty. You passed a hand over its sleek paint job without touching, so you didn't get any fingerprints on it. Though you quirked a smile over your shoulder at him.
“She?” you intoned.
“That’s right. She,” he confirmed.
You smirked and crossed your arms. You paused in front of the passenger door, and when Russell drew in closer, you had to crane your neck up to meet his warm gaze.
“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.
You tilted your head, your own eyes dancing.
“I’m sure you’re brave enough to find out,” you said.
Russell decided he’d take that bet.
He leaned in slowly. He made a show of hesitating, raising a brow, as if waiting for a blow. You were tempted to laugh.
But then he let loose a true smile, and he bowed his head to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fell shut, and your hands moved to flatten against his chest. A firm fucking wall. Jesus.
He circled his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer. Your fingers wound up in his hair, while he tilted his head to kiss you again. You met him with the same fervor with each new kiss, and the feel of your body, soft and pliant under his hands, each little sweet sound that you made, it all drove him to delve in deeper.
You moaned into his mouth at the first warm swipe of his tongue against yours. He tasted like the burn of good whiskey.
You pressed yourself flush against him on instinct. He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car. His hand tangled into your hair, gripping, then easing through the soft strands.
Russell veered away from your soft mouth after a while, just to burn a line of warm, wet kisses along your jaw, and down your neck with the added rasp of his beard.
His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. He kissed and sucked at your skin, even grazing with his teeth. You gasped softly in his ear, shuddering against him. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his strong back out of a need to feel him.
His hands were heavy along the curve of your waist then, squeezing your hips. It all felt incredibly right. And by right, you meant body tingling, warmth churning in your lower belly, and wetness growing between your legs, for sure dampening your panties.
You tugged him back by his hair, so you could reach him for another steamy kiss.
“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.
You paused against his lips, parting from him softly.
“Or not," he added. "Just thought I’d mention.”
You giggled, catching your breath, and then smoothing your hands down his chest. The faint throb of your core was telling you one thing, but the warning signals of your more cautious mind were telling you another. You thought for a moment…but then you sighed.
“How long are you really in town?” you asked.
His wet lips tugged to one corner, ruefully. “A few more days, probably.”
“Right,” you said with a frown. “Russell, I like you. I actually, I really do. If you were sticking around for a while, it’d be one thing. But you’re my best friend’s brother, and I—”
“No, I get it. I can’t predict when I’m gonna be able to swing back into town, and you’ve gotta live your life,” he said, but not without care. He curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear.
Your heart tugged, almost painfully.
“You’re a good guy, Russell Shaw,” you breathed. “Why can’t you be a good guy who’s staying?”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Then he cringed, knowing how you felt about sweethearting men. “Ah, sorry—”
You smiled and covered his mouth with your fingers.
“It’s okay. You have permission to sweetheart me.”
After blinking his surprise away, his face eased into a grin.
“Then I’ll wear that badge with honor,” he said.
Your shoulders shook with laughter when you let your forehead fall against his chest.
Russell remained what he had been throughout the entire night: a gentleman, who accompanied you over to your car.
After another stolen kiss or two in front of your sedan, you parted ways from him with a bit of a heavy heart. You wondered if you made the right decision, or if you should’ve just gone for it for once, instead of second-guessing yourself like usual.
You did know this. The rumble of his Chevelle driving down the opposite road would be imprinted on your memory.
When you returned home, you realized that the house was empty, and in complete darkness.
Charlie still wasn’t home.
Worried, you flicked on the lights and began to text his cell, only to find a note for you on the kitchen counter.
And it worried you even more.
I’m sorry. I’m going to make it right.
— C.
AN: 😬 Well then! lol We're diving straight into the drama and feels on this one. What did you think of her "barely a date" with Russell? 😂
And where do you think we're going next with Charlie?
Next Time:
Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.
“You should call the police,” she advised.
You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.
You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.
“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:
“Colter, the tracker.”
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2
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I have this foreboding feeling that while we are prepared for Sae's and Shidou's backstory, Nagi's backstory is going to sneak from behind and punch us in the gut.
No, I don't think it's going to be straight up depression like Kaiser's, but I do think that it'll hit close to home.
You see, Nagi got Laissez-faire parents which means they never really interfered with his life. Like, these type of parents—as I have read on some websites—will basically set their child free and let them do whatever they want with no or very few rules/restrictions. They will not tell you, "Oh! You should do this!" or "Oh! You shouldn't do this!" They will simply let you figure out your life all by yourself.
I'm not an expert on this and I'm not calling this type of parenting bad in any way. Every child is different with different needs, and I'm sure there are many who grew up in this kinda family and liked this parenting method. However, I do think that Nagi didn't like it that much, and I got two reasons to think this way:
1. "That's nice."
When Reo said that his family constantly meddles in his life, Nagi's immediate reaction was, "That's nice" instead of being surprised or disgruntled. If Nagi really liked his parents NOT meddling in his life, then he should've said something like, "Really!? Sucks to be you, Reo. I can't imagine living a life like that!"
You getting me?
Also, we all know how Nagi is—he definitely feels that telling someone to do or not to do something is a hassle, so he, probably, feels that if someone is doing all this for you, then you are important for them.
And before any one says, no, I don't think Nagi was tying up his tongue thinking, "They are his parents. They wouldn't want anything bad for their own child, right? I shouldn't say anything against them and should say good things about them just to be safe." I don't think he has this kind of filter in him.
2. "Don't die ."
So, why would you not want someone to die? Of course, because you care for them and want them to be with you.
"Want"
That's really what I'm tryna highlight.
It's a pretty common knowledge that some children are just naturally more independent while others are a bit more dependent and seek guidance from the elders. Considering Nagi's first reaction to knowing about Reo's parents' meddling, I think that Kiddo!Nagi falls into the latter category—someone who likes to be guided and helped by the adults. Now, place Kiddo!Nagi with his Laissez-faire parents... You are getting where I'm going with this one?
That's why I think that Kiddo!Nagi, probably, thought that his parents didn't love him/care for him. And what happens if someone doesn't love you or care for you? Yeah, they don't care if you die which, somewhat, explains why Older!Nagi was happy to hear, "Don't die [before us (probably)]" from his parents.
I have already talked about his potential backstory before too, so it was actually when I heard he had longer bangs as a child that made my head turn to him again—something felt odd.
I understand that having long bangs is not a big deal—Niko's bangs literally cover his eyes, but having it as a kid is way different, y'know. Once you are like 12-13, you somewhat become capable of doing your own hair and clothes by yourself, so you can manage whatever aesthetics you prefer. However, for a kid younger than that, it's the parents' responsibility to look after his/her hair and clothes, and we all know that long bangs are quite bothersome—blocks our vision, sometimes stabs the eyes, and even irritatingly itches the nose.
All in all, till his backstory drops, I'd firmly believe that he was, though unintentionally, a neglected kid—at least, emotionally.
Now I can't get this image out of my head where Kiddo!Nagi is longingly staring at other kids in a park where everyone is learning things like riding a bicycle or maybe playing baseball and stuff with their parents while he is just.. there, probably, all alone.
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getting pissed about the love triangle again, so here are my ramblings
I hate it cause everyone's characterization gets fucked over implicitly because each of them turn into the worst versions of themselves
Jean is labeled as the slut. A dull and one-dimensional plot device to Logan's angst, an apathetic cheater to Scott's pain
Scott is labeled as the loser. A butt of the joke to Logan's "victory" (I hate even saying it cause Jean isn't a prize but thats how writers hype it up), a guy who's pathetic enough to still be there whenever Jean wants him again
Logan is labeled as the homewrecker. A man Jean "can fix" because of her psychic abilities, an absolute asshole in Scott's story
Everything about the love triangle infuriates me cause they're all such amazing characters for one thing, not to mention their relationships with one another
Like I can't stress enough how much I LOVE Jean and Scott's love. In most narratives, they were high school sweethearts. They were the first students and a part of the first team. They fell hopelessly and deeply in love with each other because how couldn't they!
They were kids tormented by how freakish they were, and each one of them held onto the other to become their anchor. Echoing sentiments like "no, you're not a freak, you're just YOU and there's nothing wrong with that."
Also, it's so cute in the very original run of xmen Scott didn't ask out Jean for AGES and ppl bullied the absolute fuck outta him for it. Cause Scott's whole thing was that he never thought he was good enough for her. But Jean waited for him. And idk what to say other than that Imma real sucker for friends to lovers and the power of being an absolute simp for your girl
As for their friendships with Logan -- it makes me so sad that it's soooooooooo overshadowed or even nonexistent cause of the love triangle
Cause Jean being there for Logan when he's dealing with his memory loss IS really sweet. If romance is taken out of the equation, I think it's such a powerful testament to their platonic love for each other. Logan allowing Jean into his mind and knowing she won't think less of him is incredibly vulnerable on his part. Jean persisting to help him because she cares about him and emphasizing he IS more man than animal is so deeply kind of her
But they shouldn't be in romantic love with each other because of this. It creates an INSANE "I love my therapist -- I mean girlfriend -- I mean Scott's girlfriend" vibe. Just...... gross dude.
As for Scott and Logan's friendship, they're so funny dude. Just a slapstick good cop, bad cop comedy duo. Eagle scout uncle that gives you genuinely good life advice and that weird uncle who smokes cigs, rides a bike, and tells you how to punch properly so you don't break your hand
They just have SO MUCH POTENTIAL to be good friends and it makes me genuinely sad that all three of them are forced into a love triangle. They're all such interesting ppl that are unique opposing or foil characters to each other
They all deserve better than to be the slut, the homewrecker, and the loser
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The boxing wing aka thanksgiving dinner — Sebastian Vettel x GN!reader
Word count — 793
Fluff
The tension in the car was already mounting as Y/N parked outside their childhood home. The crisp November air smelled of leaves and the faint aroma of turkey wafting from inside. Sebastian sat in the passenger seat, calm and collected, casually checking his hair in the mirror. Meanwhile, Y/N was running through a mental list of all the potential landmines the evening might hold.
“Okay, quick reminder,” Y/N said, unbuckling their seatbelt. “Don’t bring up politics. Don’t bring up football. And if my cousin Sarah starts talking about her essential oils business, for the love of God, just nod politely.”
Sebastian chuckled. “I think I can manage. But are you okay? You look like you’re heading into a boxing ring.”
“I am heading into a boxing ring. We call it Thanksgiving dinner,” Y/N muttered before turning to him. “You sure you’re up for this?”
Sebastian grinned, his warm, easy charm on full display. “Free food and a little family chaos? I’ve driven through Monaco in the rain. I can handle this.”
The moment they stepped inside, the chaos hit. Y/N’s mother swooped in with a flurry of hugs and questions, barely giving Sebastian a chance to introduce himself. The sound of kids yelling and a football game blaring in the background filled the air. From the dining room, Y/N’s dad called out, “Who’s this guy? Did you bring a date?”
“This is Sebastian,” Y/N said, forcing a smile. “He’s my… uh… boyfriend.”
That word hung in the air for a moment, and then—“Boyfriend?” Aunt Linda exclaimed from the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. “Well, it’s about time! We were starting to think you were allergic to relationships.”
Sebastian, ever the professional under pressure, stepped forward with a smile and extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. Y/N has told me so much about their amazing family.”
Y/N snorted quietly. That was a lie. Sebastian didn’t even know half their relatives’ names.
Dinner was a mix of triumph and disaster.
Sebastian charmed Y/N’s dad by discussing sustainable farming practices and even managed to compliment Uncle Steve’s deep-fried turkey without wincing. But then Sarah brought up her essential oils business, launching into a monologue about how they could cure anything from headaches to heartbreak.
“Actually, I’ve read that lavender oil can reduce stress,” Sebastian offered diplomatically.
“Oh, he’s smart and polite,” Sarah cooed, throwing a pointed look at her husband, who was glued to the football game.
Things took a turn, however, when Aunt Linda, emboldened by a second glass of wine, leaned forward with a knowing smirk. “So, Sebastian, how serious is this? Are you two thinking about the future?”
Sebastian glanced at Y/N, who was frantically trying to signal him with wide eyes. Without missing a beat, he took Y/N’s hand and said, “I think we’re taking things one step at a time. But I’m very lucky to have found them.”
Y/N’s mom nearly teared up, while Grandma muttered something about finally getting great-grandkids before it was “too late.”
And then, inevitably, the chaos began.
Uncle Steve decided to weigh in on relationships, launching into a loud argument with Aunt Linda about how “kids these days” rush into things too quickly. Cousin Sarah started arguing with Grandma about the validity of essential oils. The kids were screaming about the pie being served too late. Y/N sat back, watching the chaos unfold with an air of resignation.
Sebastian, however, was unfazed. Leaning over, he whispered, “Is this the part where I should stage a distraction?”
Y/N grinned. “If you can get my dad to break out his embarrassing karaoke machine, you’ll be my hero.”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Challenge accepted.”
True to his word, Sebastian had the karaoke machine plugged in before dessert was served. By the end of the night, Y/N’s dad was belting out a rendition of “Sweet Caroline,” Grandma was clapping along, and Aunt Linda was too busy singing backup to argue with anyone. Y/N leaned against the kitchen counter, watching the madness with a newfound appreciation for their unexpected ally.
“You survived,” Y/N said as Sebastian joined them, a smug smile on his face.
“Not just survived,” he said, holding up a container of leftovers. “I thrived.”
Y/N laughed, shaking their head. “Thanks for doing this. You didn’t have to.”
Sebastian shrugged, his expression softening. “It wasn’t so bad. Your family’s crazy, but… kind of fun. Plus, now I know where you get your sass from.”
Y/N rolled their eyes but smiled. “Well, you’re officially invited to every Thanksgiving from now on.”
Sebastian’s grin widened. “Careful. I might take you up on that.”
#f1#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x you#f1 x y/n#faiths inboxes📥📨#formula one x oc#formula one x y/n#sebastian vettel#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel x you#sebastian vettel fic#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel fluff#sv5#sv5 x reader#sv5 imagine
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i mean they could’ve had both. their dynamic(like everything involving adrien, chloe, and character depth in this show) had so much potential, and the show really just let it all fizzle and die.
like, for starters, in the show they’re longterm friends, and adrien stays friends with her despite the fact that she’s a bully but it just comes across as very unsympathetic to his new friends, especially marinette. he kind of just says “oh that’s how she is, we’ve been friends forever” and it makes adrien look really shitty.
But if we got more depth from them? Like, after Audrey left Chloe spent a lot of time with the Agrestes because her dad was ALWAYS working. If Emilie was a super-involved mom, I bet she became SO important to Chloe. Further cementing Adrien and Chloe being siblings. Chloe would get to go to school and then she’d come back every day and tell Adrien all about it, and when they were younger they’d play games about being in school because they both wanted him there.
Adrien got enrolled in school after Emilie died. There’s no way he would’ve been able to do that on his own, and absolutely no way Nathalie would’ve helped him. After Mr. Agreste started becoming more distant, I bet Chloe felt it as her job to comfort Adrien the way he and his mom comforted her after Audrey left. But they aren’t little kids anymore, and Gabe’s being super controlling about when Adrien can see other people. So she pulled strings and helped him enroll in school.
They’re EVERYTHING to each other. And, yeah, Chloe’s a little clingy but it’s because she remembers when her mom left and how hard it was, so she wont stop pestering Adrien to make sure he’s okay, in her own way. She hasn’t quite realized that she loves Adrien like a brother, and is mostly just really scared that once he goes to public school someone will convince him to leave her, too. I’d imagine those first few days, she was GLUED to his side.
But Adrien craves social connection, so he started making friends with other kids in the class, and he had to separate himself from chloe to do that. it could’ve been a really hard decision for him, maybe she didn’t talk to him for a few days. but they’re family. and he still talks to her and she leaves for lunch with him, and nino and alya and marinette really hold it against him for a while until everything comes out about audrey, and that’s when adrien explains the history they have.
Adrien and Chloe being found family is one of my absolute favorite missed opportunities in the show. They know each other’s tells. Chloe comes off as a snobby rich kid, but she’s protecting herself and Adrien. He may come across as unsympathetic, but he can’t very well disown his sister when they’ve been through so much together. He definitely could’ve been a crucial part of her character development as well.
Adrien and Chloe could have had the best found family dynamic but nooooo they needed a mean girl character
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SuperBat Baby AU
This AU is not finished yet, and it was mostly just written for crack purposes so I haven’t figured out all the lore yet.
This is Martha Kent-Wayne (named after both Bruce and Clark’s mothers). Unlike Conner, she was actually ‘born,’ in that after Bruce and Clark’s DNA was mixed, the embryo was then planted into a surrogate mother (still working out a subplot for her).
Anyway, after she’s born, she’s kept in a lab and some tests are run, before someone (either the JL or the BatFam) shuts it down and rescues her. When they discover it’s Bruce and Clark’s DNA that made her, they realise that this kid — with Clark’s powers and Bruce’s Bruceness — could have potentially been one of the biggest threats they’d ever faced had they not saved her.
Anyway, Bruce and Clark split custody, but visit each other so much that they may as well just live together (which they will do, in the future). Clark has to give Bruce some advice because, yes, he has a lot of kids, but he’s never done the baby thing before. Whereas Clark has (with Jon), so he has more experience.
Like I said, nothing’s really been fleshed out, but I do know that Martha is a very happy baby, who rarely ever cries and is always smiling at her fathers and older siblings. She also has Clark’s powers, so when he’s not around, she can be a bit of a handful.
#dc#dc comics#batfam#batfamily#bruce wayne#clark kent#superbat#superbat baby au#martha kent-wayne#superfam
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Love your blog so much!!
What's your headcanons on Jon and Rhaegar's relationship? The fandom is always Jon-Ned this, Jon-Lyanna that, won't someone ever think of the Jon-Rhaegar bond?? It's my favorite father son relationship that never was. Imagine Jon growing up with Rhaegar as a dad, what would their lives have been like?
Aw, thank you !!
I love all of Jon's important relationships which include the relationships with his parents ( Ned, Lyanna AND Rhaegar). I've already written some posts about Rhaegar and Jons parallels but I don't remember writing headcanons about their potential relationship in an AU where Targs won the war. So thank you for giving me the opportunity to write this!
We know that little Rhaenys hided in her father's room to seek safety. That shows that Rhaegar, despite being a busy crown prince, also spend quality time with his kids. I'd expected that Jon would feel the same safety his older sister frlt inside his father's chambers.
And let's not forget that Jon is the youngest kid of Rhaegar's so it's possible that their father would be even more doting with the baby of his family.
Toddler Jon going to Rhaegar's room after a nightmare, and Rhaegar calming him down by singing him lullabies.
Rhaegar loved to read so ofc he would read to Jon when he was too young to do it himself. Rhaegar retelling tales of their Targaryen ancestors and Jon asking for the tales of Aemon the Dragon knight or Daeron the Young Dragon again and again.
Rhaegar trying to teach Jon how to play music instruments and sing but failing miserably (it's okay Jon, you have other talents).
Also, since Rhaegar took his leadership responsibilities seriously, I'd expect him to teach both his sons how rule and maybe even help them train with the swords when his schedule allows it.
Jon being annoyed when his father shows him affection in public but he's the baby of the family! His family will always see him that way!
Rhaegar totally understanding that Jon doesn't want to marry out of duty. When Jon decides to marry out of love, Rhaegar would be his number one supporter (he really is his father's son on this aspect).
Jon and Rhaegar spending quality time, Jon being able to share his concerns or views with his father but also enjoy being able to enjoy the silence together. The crown prince and his youngest son are bonding while brooding together.
#jon snow#rhaegar targaryen#house targaryen#asoiaf headcanons#valyrianscrolls#rhaegar and jon#asoiaf ask
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So... much... information...
Wolfwood thought Vash chatters a lot when they link up like this, but these girls take the cake. Still, he listens, eager to know what the Plants have seen and, potentially, heard. Distracting them from whatever Vash is doing is also important, so he can't back out now. It's a lot like how he'd treat a kid getting a shot or drawing blood or putting alcohol on a wound. Only... this time it's your brother and sisters in agonizing pain. No pressure or anything.
Umm...
Lights coming back on, Plants getting sick... Did this bunker serve another purpose in the past? Well... besides being parts of a ship. Come to think of it, Wolfwood has never considered how old of an organization the Eye of Michael is. Maybe this used to be a legitimate laboratory. Who knows? Wolfwood sure doesn't.
What would be a good thing to show the Plants in return? Happy things? All of his happy events are...
The undertaker projects images of how Vash has been doing since he found him... all from Wolfwood's perspective. So many memories that he himself doesn't even realize he is holding onto cross his mind. Riding Angelina, with Vash at his back, hanging on. Boarding Home, seeing the way Vash smiles talking about his family. The shakedown at Snake Rock, the way people celebrated the duo for once instead of running them off...
hedoesn'tneedtothinkaboutwhathappenedafterwardstheydon'tneedtotalkaboutit...
... The calm that Wolfwood feels when he's curled up next to Vash. His protective nature when he feels eyes on Vash, watching his next move. Vash laughing at his stupid jokes. Vash smiling at him when he thinks Wolfwood isn't looking. The power going out, the concern the undertaker felt, the dedication to bringing Vash back to them. More warmth and sunshine and the dusty breeze, double sunsets and bright stars and Vash. Campfires, cuddling, tucking Vash into the crook in his neck.
He gets a bit flustered, realizing that he's "talking" a lot about Vash. Oops. They probably don't want to hear anything about all that.
Ahem.
Wolfwood thinks about their arrival to this settlement, the desertion of the town above, the oncoming storm. He shows their descent into the facility, shows how synchronized the two of them fight together. What would be a painful memory of being mortally wounded and riddled with bullets isn't actually that painful through Wolfwood's eyes—it's casual, tinged with the joy of success and glass in his teeth. The last thing he thinks about is the door and how it opened for him, ending on a note of curiosity and caution, not knowing how much power he has access to.
And now he's here. Wolfwood pauses, allowing them to respond... assuming he did this right. He's still not... fluent... in Plant.
The fear was met with concern and a note of curiosity; she didn't seem to understand why someone like Wolfwood would be afraid when she could sense that faint spark of kinship within him. But when she sensed that delight, the Dependent recognized it and chose to latch onto that, offering an echo of warmth and affection in that same, sunny way that their brother always offered to them.
No need to be scared, she seemed to be saying. We know you. We know you!
And what One knows, All know-- and All knew this specific human as Beloved, thanks to that brief window of time that Vash's consciousness was held within the collective and their moments of connection both; communicating to each other in a very Plant-like way...
This wasn't a Plant, though. This was a human, so it was... different, but exciting, even as her warmth seemed to falter as the topic of loneliness was brought up. She was lonely... they all had been; it had been a long time since they'd seen any humans at all, and she would try her best to share that with him. Memory projection in a base form-- a static picture slideshow done in blues and grays where some parts were fuzzier than others. Glimpses of humans all wearing medical and scientific garb outside of their tanks, at first in big crowds, then in fewer and fewer numbers until there was only one... and then none.
Then darkness, as things were shut down around them and left them all so, so alone...
But, then! The lights had come back! She didn't know exactly when, but that had meant there were humans around, somewhere, and all of them had eagerly awaited their return-- even as they suffered that pain from before and some of them started getting sick... they waited for the humans to come back.
And now, here they were... to help, as Wolfwood had said. Which was good, so the Dependent would end this rather solemn retelling with another swell of appreciative, sunny energy.
#[like a moth to flame; mothwood]#[here's to us—here's to love. here's to all the times that we fucked up; orangetintedglasses]#// “man these ladies yap a lot” into *yaps more than they do*#// good job ww
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I have no idea what was the point of introducing Stolas and Blitzo as childhood friends. To make them appear as destined to be?
In fact, it just makes Stolitz creepier. This man just obsessed over a kid he knew for a day for the last 25 years and his first instinct is to bang him? It would have been a lot better for Stolas to witness how they treat imps at Stella's party, leading him to reflect on the classist treatment of people like Blitz. This leads him to grow a bit regretful and uncomfortable, leading him to go back to his study to think over things. There, he reconciles with Blitzo, who is trying to steal his book. Unaware of what's going on, Stolas strikes conversation with Blitz on what they've been up to. Blitzo believes this could be a way to distract him, so he's willing to play that part.
They begin to talk out their lives together: their highs, their lows, and their connections. While Blitzo shows little to no interest in Stolas' personal life, Stolas is shocked and saddened by Blitzo's background. While he became a high-ranking figure with a magical skill set and a family of his own, Blitzo's life has been nothing but pain, struggle, and a string of strained relationships. Despite this though, Blitzo continues to try to make a name for himself, whether as a good dad of an adopted daughter or as a successful boss of an underdog business.
Stolas, while sympathetic for Blitzo, tends to also find admiration in his ambition and work. Despite all the people he's hurt and all the people who've hurt him, he keeps moving forward towards a better way of life. They find an unlikely connection this way, leading to a weekly visit between the two. Despite their differences in class and style, they find comfort in each other and eventually become friends. Eventually Stolas grows interested in Blitzo's business life, leading him to lend him access to the Grimoire whenever his business requires it. Not in exchange for sex, but to help out a man he cares for.
Both Stolas and Stella in this rendition are unhappy rather than hateful of one another. For Stolas, he finds little to no interest in Stella romantically (since he's attracted to men). As for Stella, she has had a soft spot for him since their first encounters, much like Stolas with Blitzo. However, she is also unhappy with him both sexually and romantically, as her attempts at a loving connection always meet to no avail. She begins to grow saddened and bitter, believing she is incapable of finding love. Her parents already viewed her as a free ticket to a life of royal luxury, so why would her arranged husband see her more than a woman he's stuck with for an heir? Despite this, however, both Stolas and Stella attempt to make it work for their daughter Octavia.
Unfortunately, things begin to fall apart once Stolas and Blitzo grow into something more than what they believed they'd become. They grow from a pair of unlikely friends to a pair of friends with benefits. Things grow complicated between the two because of this. Blitzo begins to grow attracted to Stolas, which he cannot fathom due to his rank and his self-worth issues. Stolas also begins to grow attracted towards Blitzo, though he begins to question if this is worth throwing away his public image and family life for. Stolas becomes regretful over his feelings for Blitzo, while Blitzo becomes frustrated and worried.
Anyways, sorry for a bunch of rambling lol. Seeing the wasted potential this show has always pumps up my thought bubbles. I wanted to see a raunchy show with an assassin business with a romance subplot between two morally gray people, not what became of it.
You gotta understand, Anon...this requires reliable writers to pull off and Arcane S1 levels of care, which Viv's ass doesn't have
Fr, this is really solid! There are a few things I'd change [slightly] here and there, but this would be such a solid way to handle their entire relationship. But Viv is a Fujo, so we are ROPED.
#anon ask#vivziepop critical#vivziepop criticism#viv get a grip#helluva blitzo#helluva stolas#stolas helluva boss#blitzo helluva boss#helluva boss criticism#helluvaverse#helluva boss critique#helluva boss rewrite#helluva boss
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I’m also gonna propose the OTHER side of the coin.
Mom!Tippi
Wouldn’t it be so tragic if Timpani had been that much closer to Bleck this entire time? If potentially Luigi were to meet and befriend her, neither having the slightest clue who the other is, prior to the events of SPM? And by the time they do all realize who everyone is and fully reunite, they only have like 5mins max to cherish it before two of them have to sacrifice their lives to save the third :)
Then on the other hand it’s also lowkey kinda hilarious?
Tippi is just kinda going through the motions with the prophecy. No memories and very little sense of self, she’s putting all her focus on the Pure Hearts and stopping the Void. Very… clinical-like. And gradually she starts to open up more to Mario & Co, grows a bit more lively and starts remembering things.
Like her lost love.
So imagine her surprise as things are starting to click and she’s piecing things together, and for the latest piece to the puzzle, there’s her exchange with Bleck when the group’s confronted by the Count in Sammer’s Kingdom. And then he not only mentions the name “Timpani”, which is very familiar for some reason, but also mentions a son.
There are many questions once she’s got her full memories back. At least she thinks so, but she certainly doesn’t remember having a child with Blumiere before they were torn apart and she was cursed to wander dimensions forever! Who IS this child? Where did he come from? What does this mean? Does this make her a mom? Will the child want her as a mom? Can she be a good mom? This was way less terrifying and complicated when it was just saving all reality from violent oblivion!
At first she thinks it’s Mr. L based off observations from the heroes’ fights against him. But then surprise! It’s actually Luigi! The sweetheart boy she’s known and befriended a few years prior to the adventure… how they were this close to have preventing it altogether had they figured it out sooner.
Picture the final thing that confirms for them both without a doubt their shared connections to Blumiere with the MOTI song that’s the duet to the Memory/Bounding Through Time track. A cherished melody between the lovers when they were together, that was also used as a lullaby for Luigi as a kid when he had nightmares.
Btw Luigi and Tippi being amnesia buddies throughout Ch7 Underwhere and Overthere segment is super cute. Criminal that this wasn’t capitalized on in the game either, like c’mon! Amnesia Buddies! Just supporting each other and helping the other get through the more intense flashbacks when they hit in addition to quest/adventure stuff.
Makes Luvbi’s teasing comments hinting that Tippi’s got a crush on Mario, Luigi or both a lot more awkward, tho.
That awkward moment when you accidentally call your mom friend “mom” out loud to their face, but it later turns out she was your actual mom the whole time.
It’s hard to hug on account of Tippi being a butterfly Pixl, but she carries the intent when she sits on Luigi’s nose and stretches her wings out across his face as best she can.
…I have far too much to say on potential relationships between characters that barely interact canonically.
AW YES... let tippi and luigi bond theyve earned it
i think the funny thing about that, too, is that even though tippi and luigi don't get much together, tippi does have some VERY strong opinions on mr. l (calling him greasy, saying he's weak, and her tattle on him specifically says he has 'no other outstanding features of note') so if she thinks mr. l is bleck's son (instead of luigi) i'm sure her first reaction would be... Interesting... LMAO
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This is my first time trying to draw a transformer. The inspiration for this piece is "Ophelia" by John Everett Millais . It depicts Starscream in the role of Ophelia. It doesn't do him justice but I hope my love for him comes across. Starscream has been my favorite transformer since I was a little kid. I absolutely loved his voice, and I always felt bad that he kept getting beat up for trying to get his way. As a kid I didn't understand what was going on, but I knew that it was sad. I feel that despite how the character is written in some continuities, he has so much potential to have a deep story and meaningful character growth.
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yeah, wwx absolutely had a privileged life. to the point that it sort of hampered his personal growth, because my boy was coddled by the ultimate authority figure in his life. jfm never tries to correct wwx's reckless behavior or impress upon him the importance of consequences. wwx was spoiled in a way, which can seem weird to say, but he was.
he was allowed to goof off and be a smart ass, despite being head disciple and future second in command. he got away with assaulting a sect heir, resulting in the dissolution of a very important arranged marriage. he does not seem to ever consider the optics of hanging around so close to jyl, how that could potentially compromise her reputation. wwx just did not think about optics or politics as a kid, and that bites him in the ass as an adult. he got away with it for so long because jfm, jyl, and jc loved him that much.
yzy did not like him, but mdzs is a patriarchy, so what ultimately mattered for wwx's future, was that the sect leader and his heir liked him. and they did!
and as you point out, wwx's HEA is really just him getting that security back. we're supposed to draw parallels between his love story and that of his parents, but they were actual wandering cultivators of modest means. lwj is loaded and he's brother to a sect leader, it's not the same.
he basically married rich, so good for him. but in essence, yeah. he's really just back in the 1% again
I don’t know if it’s just me or the hate Jiang Cheng receives feels slightly misogynistic? I’m trying to make sense of it and listen, hear me out, Jiang Cheng is deeply emotional—he feels pain, loss, anger, and grief intensely. These are traits that patriarchal societies often label as “weak” or “unmanly,” which I think leads to criticism.
His outbursts or struggles with processing emotions are judged harshly, while male characters like Lan Zhan or Wei Wuxian, who express emotions differently, are romanticized or excused.
Am I making sense?
Does anyone else feel the same?
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Ambivalent Research
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x female!reader
Summary: Working with Ransom was never easy, so why did you think a joint research trip would be any different?
Word count: 3.5k
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , sex/smut, p in v sex , unprotected sex , oral sex (f receiving) , vaginal fingering , some language
A/N 1 - This is my first joint submission for @steviebbboi 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge and @yenzys-lucky-charm & @sweater-daddiesdumbdork Horny Hoes Hootenanny. Sorry it's last minute!
A/N 2 - Prompts - - Enemies to lovers - "Slower, baby, I'm not going anywhere" - "We're both adults, we can share a bed for one night" - "Are you fucking kidding me?" - Withholding - getting scared during a horror movie
As a bonus, I asked Yenzy for two spins on the trick-or-treat wheel of potential doom... and for this one I chose the pillow fight!
A/N 3 - Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work - GIF taken from google but page was listed for @writemarvelousthings
A/N 4 - Please let me know if I've missed a warning, knowing me it's more than likely. Hope you all enjoy ☺️
“Are you fucking kidding me?” The annoyed shout caused silence to fall as you stepped into the rustic lobby of the lodge. Optimistically, you had hoped that this trip would go smoothly… but of course nothing ever went to plan when he was involved, you thought with a disappointed sigh. “You’re fucking with me, right?” As you walked towards the check-in desk, you saw a staff member trying to apologize profusely to the person causing the ruckus. Any other person would probably see an exquisitely dressed, well groomed handsome man. All you saw was your boss Harlan Thrombey’s grandson, your fellow researcher and the biggest pain in your ass.
Don’t-call-me-Hugh ‘Ransom’ Drysdale. When Harlan had said that Ransom would be working with you to research for Harlan’s next few mystery novels, you were filled with dread. From information you’d gleaned, Ransom was considered to be the black sheep of the family, a trust fund prick as they so lovingly called him. When asked, Harlan admitted that Ransom never had a job, only having worked as his research assistant for a summer. It was agreed between you and Harlan that you would have seniority, something you were grateful for as Ransom had been a reluctant participant to start, doing minimal work except for when he took every opportunity to cause trouble for you. He was an arrogant, self important conceited jerk who you wanted to kill… until things reached a peak one day. When Ransom had complained once again about working, you had lost all patience and your filter. “Fine! If you’re happy to keep sponging off your grandfather’s legacy and just remain a Drysdale in the self imposed so-called shadow of your parents rather than make something of yourself by your own efforts, then stop wasting my time and go!” From that day, Ransom had committed to contributing as much as possible. His work ethic might have improved… but he still annoyed you whenever the chance arose.
You subtly jabbed his side upon reaching the desk which caused his glare to focus on you. “Oops! Excuse me, Mr Drysdale. What seems to be the problem?” You offered your name to the staff member, the name you saw from his tag was Paul, who quickly found yours and Ransom’s booking were for the same company.
Another member of staff appeared behind Paul, radiating authority and a zero tolerance for nonsense attitude. Now this was someone who commanded respect, unlike the entitled idiot next to you whose gaze would have you murdered a million times over if looks could kill. “As my colleague Paul already explained to Mr Drysdale, unfortunately the pipes in his suite have burst, rendering the room unusable. Due to other bookings and events being reserved prior to yours, there are no other rooms available for tonight. We have called other hotels in the area, and found another suite at - “
”At a hotel 45 minutes away” Ransom interrupted. “Look, I need to be here for work. I don’t think you realize how important this could be for you, so why don’t you - “
”Share my suite” Three gazes focused on you though your attention was on the one that could potentially - and almost certainly would - make things more difficult. “We can share a room for a night”. Part of your brain screamed in horror and rebellion at the thought of sharing a room with him, but the other part scrambled to minimize the damage the arrogant asshole could cause with his big mouth and even bigger ego. Ransom opened his mouth to argue but when you jabbed him again and raised a brow, he knew to shut up. Or rather his version of shutting up which was to grumble and whine as he stomped over to the elevators. Rolling your eyes, you offered a small smile to the two staff members. “I’m so sorry about him, he shouldn't have spoken to you that way”.
Paul smiled at you gratefully, the weight of the world seemed to have dropped from his shoulders. “We have been trained to deal with such situations ma’am”.
You shook your head. “Just because a customer is paying for a service doesn’t give them the right to speak to you like that. Again, I’m very sorry and will be mentioning how professionally you handled this to my boss”.
”Thank you ma’am. Of course the suite will be refunded and due to the inconvenience, dinner is complimentary”. You thanked them profusely and headed to the elevator where Ransom fidgeted impatiently.
“So when should I get that refund?” Ransom huffed, pushing the call button.
You eyed him incredulously, somehow still amazed by his ego. ”You realise that Harlan will receive the refund, seeing as he paid?” Before you both stepped into the elevator, you pulled out your phone to call your boss. Upon hearing his greeting, a smile graced your lips. “Hello Harlan”
”Ah good afternoon dear girl”. You could hear the formality being replaced with fondness, a rare occurrence from what you had observed of Harlan. “I trust you and my grandson arrived safely at the lodge?”
“Yes, though there is a slight change in plans”. Briefly, you informed him about the room being refunded and Ransom sharing a room with you instead of having to leave the area.
“Oh dear. I appreciate you being so accommodating, especially as I had wanted you both to specifically research the lodge and surrounding neighborhood for me. I must apologize in advance for my grandsons behaviour, as I know he seems to enjoy unnecessarily needling you”
”As long as I won’t be held accountable for any retaliation for the duration of this trip, short of bodily harm or murder”. You grinned as Harlan chuckled and Ransom gave you the side eye. You bid Harlan a good evening, ending the call.
”Retaliation huh? Now why would my dear Grandfather agree to that?” Ransom leaned back against the elevator wall. Your irritation flared at his casual arrogance.
“Because he knows you ‘enjoy unnecessarily needling’ me Drysdale, and yes those were his exact words”. Inhaling deeply, you stood straight and held your ground. “Being a researcher is challenging enough, but to work for one as renowned as Harlan Thrombey is the chance of a lifetime and I’d be a fool to let anything ruin the opportunity. Which is what I told him when I applied for the role. After my interview and a few months of working for him, he said that he appreciated my honesty and work ethic, but also recognised I have no patience for drama or bullshit - a good deal of which is found within his own family, much to his disappointment”. Every word you spoke was true, Harlan had said all of this to you. Though you had overheard the specifics about his family while he was speaking to his caregiver Marta but you had met all of them in the few years you worked for Harlan.
A dark brown arched. “Oh? And just what drama are you referring to?” With a ding, the elevator doors opened to your floor and Ransom hesitated before gesturing for you to move first. Finding your door a few strides down the corridor, you stopped and pulled the key card from your pocket. Opening the door, you waved for Ransom to precede you.
”Take your pick, from your parents to your Uncle Walt or Aunt Joni. They all have their own drama. Though I wonder about how Harlan would react to hearing how much damage his eldest grandson could have caused by opening his big mouth without thinking. Newsflash Drysdale - any dramas linked to Harlan Thrombey or Blood Like Wine would be damaging. Those are the two names paying your income… and the only names worth mentioning. I’ve been doing this job for some time, so I’ll make it easy for you - despite what you, your mother or father may say no one has ever heard the name Drysdale with recognition outside of your social circle”.
Ransom's face darkened at the mention of his immediate family. “Hey, don’t compare me to those two. I asked Grandfather to show me the ropes for this business, so I could decide if it was something I wanted to do myself. But if by some small chance Grandfather leaves the company to me and not that idiot Walt, I’ve no intention to say that I’ve done my own work from the ground up. I’d say it’s Grandfathers and I’m just continuing his legacy”. A chuckle from you had him frowning. “What?”
”I think hell just froze over because I agree with you”. And you did. It irritated you that Linda, Ransom’s mother and Harlan’s eldest child, claimed to have built her business from the ground up by herself when in actuality she had used Harlan's money. And her husband wasn’t much better, you saw Richard’s eyes wander when you visited Harlan at his estate. All of the family repulsed you, trying to constantly outdo one another whilst trying to impress Harlan. But hearing Ransom say that he would honour and continue Harlan’s legacy rather than try to claim it for his own softened you slightly.
Ransom had walked into the main area with a small seating area against the wall but a large king size bed dominated the space, facing beautiful views outside the windows. “You gotta be shitting me” he groaned, almost as if in pain.
When you saw the size of the couch, you knew that neither of you would be sleeping on it. It was soft and squashy looking, but more for sitting on than sleeping. Which really left you with one option. “For Gods’ sake. We’re both adults, we can share a bed for one night”. He glanced at you with an indecipherable look before sighing and stalking off to the bathroom and closing the door. Unsure whether to check on him after the look in his deep blue eyes, you hesitated. Oh yes, along with your annoyance of him came the reality that he really was a handsome bastard. Not that you’d ever tell him that. Dark hair swept off an angular face with soft pink lips and eyes to drown in, he really had won the genetic lottery. But his appearance aside, you had shared a few soft moments with him after the family gatherings he attended. Sometimes you would gently rub his back or pat his shoulder to ease the tension and resentment radiating off him. There were moments that you wanted to verbally comfort or reassure him, but after the brief physical contact he would pull away and annoy you before walking away. Part of you knew it was a defence mechanism, lashing out because it was all he knew. This time you decided to give him space.
After eating dinner and making a plan to explore the area the next day, you changed into your pajamas - a matching set of cotton shorts and tank top - and sat to watch a horror movie that you discovered had used the lodge you were currently staying at as a filming location. Harlan knew you were thorough in your research, so encouraged you to investigate any adaptations made to avoid plagiarism. You hated horror movies, much preferring a thriller or a mystery. But this was your job. As you sat watching, you hugged your pillow to your chest. Your heart began to pound watching the lead female edge into the dark room -
and jumped as something grabbed you. Reacting on instinct, you swung out with your pillow and walloped whatever it was that had grabbed you. Surprised and amused blue eyes met yours. “Seriously? You hit me… with a pillow?”
Embarrassment was chased away by irritation. “Seriously” you mimicked his voice with a scowl. “You decided to scare me while watching a horror movie? Real mature, Drysdale”.
“Pot, meet kettle” he huffed, grabbing his pillow and whacking you back.
It might have been immature, childish, just downright idiotic… but this man existed just to make your life a living hell. And you’d had reassurances from Harlan that any retribution this weekend would not be held accountable, So you decided the hell with it. And whacked him repeatedly with your pillow. Ransom was caught off guard for a moment before retaliating, making every effort to hit you with his pillow. At one point, you had stolen Ransom's pillow and struggled to keep hold of yours, Ransom in close proximity. Both your eyes locked as you panted, straining to win the pillow.
The next moment the pillow was thrown aside and you were under Ransom, grabbing desperately at his hair, his sweater - anything to bring him closer. Your mouths clashed in a heated battle for dominance, filled with teeth and tongue. One arm propped his torso up to keep his weight off you while the other slid around your waist and pulled you against him.
Once again your brain screamed at you - why the hell were you kissing Ransom Drysdale? More importantly, why the hell were you enjoying it so much? But your heart pounded loudly, drowning out your screaming thoughts and focusing on Ransom - how good his lips felt against yours, how smooth his hands felt gliding over your flesh, how he ground against you as desperately as you were to him. “Too many goddamn clothes” he hissed, yanking your top over your head and immediately latched his lips onto a nipple, fingers tweaking the other. Your back arched, pushing yourself closer to him. Desperate to feel his skin on yours you tugged at his sweater before he pulled back with a curse, almost ripping it off and tossing it aside before plunging his mouth to yours. His denim clad crotch ground against you, causing you to moan at the feel of his erection. Ransom pulled your shorts off, exposing you to him. His finger drifted up your thighs and across your folds before slowly sinking into your heat. He groaned against your lips, pushing in a few times before adding a second finger and curling them against your inner wall.
His fingers worked a steady rhythm inside you as his palm rubbed against your clit. You moaned when a wave of pressure began to slowly build, rising to crest through you… and you whimpered when his hand stopped moving altogether. Desperate for friction you tried to grind your hips against his hand but he pulled it away, raising his head to look at his wet fingers. “Hmm.. I think you could be a little wetter, dear girl” he crooned, lightly mocking Harlan's usual endearment. When a snarl started to leave your throat, his fingers returned to the previous rhythm and any fight left you. His lips glided from one breast to the other, his tongue teasing and tasting your skin in time with his digits. The wave of pleasure built again, threatening to consume you and just as you tasted the first hint of release Ransom stopped again. You heard a soft chuckle which only fueled your frustration at being denied.
”Drysdale. So help me, if you don’t make me cum right now-” a soft brush over your clit briefly interrupted your threat. “I know a half a dozen ways to end you without weapons or toxins” your growl turned into a breathless whimper when he blew softly onto your pulsing heat. Looking down, you could see him watching you inches from where you needed him.
”Is one of those ways smothering me with this wet cunt?” Those blue eyes sparkled with wicked sensuality. “Then end me right now, baby”. Suddenly he licked firmly into your dripping folds, groaning deeply as the first drop hit his tongue which had you squirming from the vibrations. “Goddamn… you taste so fine, kitten”. He lapped away, humming as you began to grind against his face. The tension from your two prior denials built with a vengeance and in your desire, you gripped his hair and pulled him closer. His nose brushed against your clit and you cried out which he answered with a pleased hum as he firmly suckled on your clit.
”Fuck!” Pleasure coursed from head to toe, your mind solely focused on prolonging the feeling as long as possible. Once the tremors had stopped, you laid for a moment to gather your thoughts. Glancing to the side you saw Ransom facing you, laying on his back with his hands behind his head and that goddamn smug-sonofabitch-smirk etched on his face, lips glistening from your juices.
Suddenly filled with an urge to wipe the smirk off his face you moved to pull his jeans and boxers down, watching as his cock was freed. God, no wonder he walked around with that attitude. He was big, and for a moment you wondered how the hell it was meant to fit in you but you didn’t want to say it aloud and give him yet another ego boost. Scrambling to straddle him, you squirmed as his flesh rubbed between your folds. “Woah… slower, baby, I’m not going anywhere” Ransom chuckled which turned into a gasp when you squeezed him with your hands. Guiding his tip, you both moaned when it rubbed over your clit. Biting your lip you began to sink onto him. “Shit” he hissed, hands moving to grip your hips and control your descent. Moaning from the stretch you wriggled on him, unable to sit comfortably on his thighs. Cursing, he gently pushed you to lean back and you slid flush against him, the movement causing his cock to rub deeply within you. At your whimper, his eyes flashed to you. “You ok?”
Grinding against him, a small keen echoed through the room. “Feels so good… fuck… you’re so big”.
Hearing your voice crack on the last word, Ransom began to roll his hips watching as you lost yourself to pleasure. Head tipped back, chest heaving and hands grasping for something. Ransom bucked up into you and then groaned when your hands dug into his flesh. ”Oh… my kitten has claws” he whispered, relishing the sight of the red marks. Feeling you clench around him Ransom continued to buck into you, his hands gripping your hips. ”Fuck yes… you want my cum kitten? Gonna cream this sweet little pussy”. You moaned loudly at his words, his hands guiding you through deep strokes as your walls sucked at his throbbing cock insistently. Your body began to tremble with that oh-so-familiar heat and you clenched tightly around Ransom, suddenly terrified he was going to edge you again. “Not gonna stop, baby” he murmured, gasping as your body shook with pleasure. “That’s it kitten, squeeze me. I’m gonna cum so hard for you”. Suddenly he tugged you down to him for a deep kiss, groaning against your lips as he came deep within you.
Panting, you rested against Ransom’s chest and heard the gentle lub-dub of his heart. His fingers brushed cautiously against your cheek, cupping your face when you pushed further into his touch. He tensed and you worried that he was going to revert to his pattern of lashing out. You couldn’t handle that, not after this. You cared about him, somehow falling for him along the way despite the antagonism between you. “Please”. He looked down at you, worry lining his face. “Please don’t pull away, Ransom”.
Shaking his head, Ransom held you close. “I’m sorry baby, for being an asshole and making things difficult for you. Honestly, I just wanted you to notice me. But I’ve wanted more since you basically told me to grow some balls and make something of myself. You’re the first person apart from Grandfather to see something in me”. Ransom sighed heavily. “I’m a mess, kitten. Fuck, you’re more than familiar with the shit show that is my so-called family”. Your heart ached at the bitterness lacing his voice and moved your hand to rest on his chest. “I don’t know how to do this” he gestured between you before capturing your hand with his and pressing his lips to your palm. “But I want to try. For you. With you. I’m probably going to upset you and definitely annoy you… but I want to try and make you happy”.
“Like our research”. He cocked his head at your answer. “Research means that you don’t know, but are willing to find out”. At your soft giggle, his blue eyes sparkled. “Together. We’ll do it together”.
#hornyhoeshootenanny#ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale smut#ransom drysdale x you#chris evans characters
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