#claims he's helping and it needs to get done

[whateveriwant]

Annoying Things the 141 Do

Price

Never cleans the sink well after he shaves. Every time you go in the bathroom after he’s trimmed his beard, it’s like walking into a crime scene of a hamster massacre

Always manages to load the dishwasher wrong (because, yes, there is a right way and a wrong way to do it, John)

Asks you to wait for him to get home so you can watch your shows together, but then as soon as you start the first episode, he falls asleep beside you

Smokes his cigars inside sometimes. I don’t care that you sprayed air freshener afterwards, sir. Now the whole house smells like spring meadow and shit!

Is incapable of closing the door behind himself?? At least, that appears to be the case since he’s always leaving your door wide open even though you ask him to shut it when he goes

Doesn’t like throwing things out because he’ll “find a use for it one day”. Even if that day ever does come, I think he has a better chance of finding Atlantis than finding that scrap piece of wood he saved four years ago

Ghost

Turns the TV on and then just… walks away??? And if you try to change it to something else, he grumbles “I was watchin’ tha’” when he comes back

Drinks milk/juice/etc. straight out of the carton. Mr Simon “Patient Zero” Riley might not see the problem with this, but I think the rest of us would agree that is diabolical behavior

Leaves his wet towel on the floor after he showers even though the towel rack is right? there?

Hates asking for help even when he has no clue what he’s doing. Like, sure, I get wanting to fix things yourself. However, I’d rather spend $100 on a simple repair than $1000 on a full replacement after he breaks the thing even more

Puts his phone calls on speaker whenever possible. While this can have its merits sometimes (you get firsthand news of Gaz’s engagement!), most of the time it feels like a nuisance (do you really need to hear Soap talk about his hemorrhoids?)

MANSPREADERRRR! This man cannot sit like a civilized being to save his life. He claims he sits like that because his balls need to breathe, and to that I say good luck trying to breathe after I karate chop you in the throat :))))

Soap

Cuts his toenails in bed, which wouldn’t necessarily be an issue if he didn’t accidentally leave one or two rogue clippings that stab you in the side later when you’re trying to get comfortable

Forgets to put the toilet seat down when he gets up in the middle of the night to pee – that or he pisses all over the seat in the dark. Either way, prepare to have wet cheeks the next time you sit on the toilet

Whenever he doesn’t feel like doing the laundry, he just buys a new set of whatever’s dirty (that’s how he ended up with 100 pairs of socks and 200 pairs of underwear)

Talks nonstop through every show/movie you try to watch. Good luck getting more than five minutes of uninterrupted runtime next to this yapper

Apparently, doesn’t understand what “one bite” means? Whenever he asks you for a bite of your food, he always ends up taking five or six

Also, apparently doesn’t know how to chew with his mouth closed? Like, I’m glad you’re enjoying your meal, Johnny, but can you enjoy it without speckling it all over the table and my face?

Gaz

Two words: bathroom hog. I hope you don’t like taking hot showers or having more than a 6x6 inch square of counter space for your stuff, because after Kyle’s done with his 30-step beauty routine, there’s little of either left

Never knows what he wants to eat for dinner, and no matter what you suggest, he never thinks it sounds good

Has the gall to chastise you for your screen time even though he’s just as bad as you, if not worse (because you being on your phone before bed is so much worse than him playing video games for nine hours straight, right?)

Rests his feet on the couch/bed/coffee table while wearing shoes. It doesn’t matter if they’re brand new or beaten up; take your damn shoes off the furniture, sir!

Never writes down the shopping list because he’ll “remember everything”. (Newsflash: he does not remember everything, which means cue taking a second trip to the store)

Watches one documentary and thinks he’s an expert on the subject. You can have studied a thing for years, can present him with a bunch of rock solid facts and reputable sources, and he’ll hit you with a “Well, actually ☝️🤓” and then proceed to give the most nonsensical take ever

[leilawanderingaround]

I miss him already... Phainon, come home but don't come back like Kevin. Hoyo, I beg of you.

“I don’t know who you are, nor why you’re here.”

It is common to be wary of strangers, especially at this dark time when the black tide continues to wreak havoc on the people of Amphoreus. So when the supposed savior of the world suddenly appeared outside of the golden gate of Okhema, you were already expecting the worst. Aglaea’s golden threads were wrapped tightly around every corner of the city, ready to attack at any moment. Three gates were opened by the Tribios, prioritizing the civilian’s life above all.

And you—one of the best soldiers of Okhema, born with Oronyx’s blessing—were ready to raise your sword and strike if needed.

“At your order, my lady,” You said, standing before Aglaea. Your sword raised, shielding her figure from the deliverer. Her golden thread too, wrapped around your arms in a form of protection.

“At ease, my dear.” She smiles reassuringly. “Three against one is quite an advantage, isn’t it?”

“But let me make this one thing CLEAR”

Your sword clashed against his as Aglaea’s golden thread surrounded you two, waiting for the right time to attack. With one more clash, you successfully push him far away enough to create a distance between the two of you. He is a natural fighter but his moves lack skill. This boy probably picked up sword fighting not long ago without anyone to guide him. And unfortunately for him, you have way more advantage over speed and experience on the battlefield.

With one sweep move, your sword pressed against his neck as the golden threads immobilized his limbs.

“Deliverer, state your business here at Okhema.’ Aglaea gracefully drops down next to you, her eyes coldly staring at Phainon’s bound form. You can also hear the sound of wings clapping nearby, the Tribios too are here.

“I’ve got people to PROTECT. Friends I can’t NEGLECT. So I’m not taking chances, dear”

“So Aedes Elysiae has fallen I see.” You sigh as you watch The Tribios tend to the white-haired man’s injuries. You refused Tribbie’s help earlier since there was barely any wound. Sure, Phainon was able to cause a bruise or scratch here and there but nothing major enough to ask for help.

“I’m very sorry for your loss. Is there anyone beside you who survived the Black Tide? Okhema is always willing to lend a helping hand,” Aglaea said, though her facial expression didn’t change much. Aglaea has changed a lot since the time you first got to know her.

She was colder and more calculated. And the same thing could probably be said about you. The Chrysos Heirs are willing to use every scheme and face every criticism as long as Amphoreus remains standing.

Even if it meant getting rid of one of their own…

Ever so slightly, Aglaea’s threads remain wrapped, invisible to other’s eyes. And your hand still rests upon the handle of your sword.

“If you make one WRONG move, then you’re DONE for

Anything I don’t APPROVE, then you’re DONE for”

“ Castrum Kremnos too will fall in the hand of Nikador” you said to Mydeimos, not very much bothered by the heavily injured state that you are in. If Thanatos wanted to claim your soul, they would have to earn the right to it. “ I’m sorry to disappoint you. What you are doing right now won’t change anything. The loss of my life won’t make a difference, not for you and not for Kremnos either.”

As The Undying, everyone you inflict on his body soon disappears yet the fatigue is clear on Mydei’s body. He groans, sending another wave of spike your way, impaling your arm yet you barely react to it. Your words though cold, said nothing but the truth. Despite the blessing that Oronyx has granted to you, you are not a Chrysos Heir. Your blood isn’t golden, your body is not suited to bear a core flame. You can do nothing to change Kremnos’s fate.

So all of Mydei’s effort to locate and catch you off guard to force you to help him was all for naught.

“Then tell me, oh blessed one?” Mydei has to take in a deep breath to stop himself from shouting at you, his gaze lingers on your heavily wounded yet still-standing body “What am I supposed to do now?”

“You could either go with me and eventually avenge your people by killing Nikador. Or you could accept your fate here and be frozen in time by my hand.” You said, letting out a heavy breath. Your vision began to go blurry from the blood loss.

“Still acting so high and mighty even now? You could barely move, oh dear blessed one.” Mydei let out an amused laugh. Such is a person worthy of the title of the str, strongest soldier of Okhema.

“Oh, I am no longer suited to fight in this state. I will have to lend this honor to another person. I’m sure he is worthy of your challenge.” You shake your head, already sensing the hurried footsteps of Phainon. “My mission here is done.”

Behind you, the figure of Phainon began to materialize. His body drenched in blood, blade held tight by his hand. He approaches you, using his cloak to cover your battered form. “I’m sorry, teacher. It seems like I was late”

You chuckled at the pitiful tone of his voice “No, no, I think you came at the perfect time.”

I could put a spell on YOU, and you’re DONE for

Boy, you better RUN, or soon you will be DONE for”

[stanart4clearskin]

SURFER!ART DONALDSON who will always bring you home a small rock or seashell that reminds him of you if you aren't able to come with him to his surf session. if you are able to come with him, he'll help you look for a small rock or discarded shell.

SURFER!ART DONALDSON who tries to teach you how to surf and even though you're awful at it, he's determined to help you learn. he's convinced that one day you'll get it even though you know the sport isn't for you.

SURFER!ART DONALDSON who has your initials on his board because he likes to look at the letters and think of you. this has distracted him before to the point where a wave knocked him off his board.

SURFER!ART DONALDSON who knows how much you love watching him remove the wax off his board and rewax it. if you aren't around, he'll set up his phone and record the process for you. shirtless of course.

SURFER!ART DONALDSON who will take a break every hour of surfing to come spend time with you while you chill on the sand. he knows you enjoy coming to the beach and tanning while he surfs but he can't help but feel like he's neglecting you.

SURFER!ART DONALDSON who pouts like a toddler when you insist to clean up the scratches he gets after a pretty nasty accident. he feels like a big baby as you sit on his lap and gently disinfect his wounds.

SURFER!ART DONALDSON who is constantly dragging sand into your apartment even when he didn't go to the beach that day. sand just seems to follow him everywhere.

SURFER!ART DONALDSON who makes you rub aloe onto his sunburns but makes a big show of wincing every time you apply it.

SURFER!ART DONALDSON who steals your towel once he's done surfing because he claims that he's going to freeze to death and that you're hardly wet and don't need the towel.

[ang3lmoans]

There was an abundance it seemed of what was happening in Garam’s mind. Angel could see he was conflicted and turned on. He stayed quiet as he typically did allowing his best friend space to speak. But also Angel was conflicted himself. Seeing the man before him turned on and flustered his imagination ran wild. Those red cheeks would look so good if — Angel scuffed and shook his head attempting to shake the thought out of his head. Everything about Garam turned Angel on. And now that he got taste he was hooked. Hearing the desperation in the others voice was making his lower half twitch. He was showing his excitement and refused to conceal it. Hearing Garam refer to himself as not being a good boy Angel was ready to jump that very second. Instead he licked his lips with his gaze burning a hole through the man. It wasn’t intentional but Garam was driving him wild. “All I’m hearing is that you need to be punished” Angel finally spoke barely above a whisper. He didn’t bat an eye when Garam changed the subject to food. He was ready to eat but it wasn’t pancakes. Even the way he was sitting was driving him insane. How could someone be this cute? However, Garam had a point. Angel had no idea when the police would release Axel. Not wanting to risk his retaliation he knew it was best to get their day going. “While I’m cooking you hop in the shower first.” Angel offered as he moved forward cupping the man’s cheeks. Caressing his cheeks as he looked down into his eyes, “By the way I don’t think you are a sex addict. It’s been a while since someone focused on your pleasure. It’s only natural to want more” he leaned down and kissed Garam. Carefully moving his mouth over Garam’s allowing his tongue to gently push against his lips begging for access. As their tongues massaged together he let out a low moan making sure to savor Garam. Wanting him to think of his kiss all day. After a minute or so the man pulled back and released him, “Shower. Meet me in the kitchen when you are done” Angel climbed up and grabbed his shorts from the floor and slipped them on before he disappeared from the room. He held back but Angel needed to get away from Garam quickly. He couldn’t let on how badly he wanted him. Angel didn’t want to scare off the man with his sex drive. But also was trying to tread lightly not knowing how his body would react going into something like this so quickly. Angel let out a shaky breath as he walked to the kitchen mumbling to his length to go down. “We aren’t ready. Go away” he groaned in a whispered as he tried to focus on breakfast hoping for the best. He began whipping up the pancakes which didn’t thankfully distract his mind enough. Angel also didn’t want Garam to think he was a sex addict either. But their sexual chemistry was undeniable. Add that to their chemistry in general, Garam would have to prey Angel off of him if given the chance. It didn’t take long for the pancakes to be made. He enjoyed cooking for Garam. Taking care of him and making him feel wanted in the apartment was his top priority. Angel took everything Garam said to heart. The last thing he wanted was for his friend to misunderstand his intentions. It seemed Garam was working through some things that Angel didn’t particularly understand. They were best friends and spent so much time together but now he was worried he would smoother him? Or annoy him? He couldn’t help but think about Garam’s shitty ex. All he could think was he really didn’t a number on him. What type of shitty boyfriend would be embarrassed by someone they claim to have feelings for? Angel made a mental note to be mindful of how he treated Garam even in anger. And to watch how he worded things. He really wanted whatever was happening between them to be more than a rebound. As Angel finished the pancakes he placed them on the table and checked his phone as he waited. Multiple text messages and calls from Darius which he chose to ignore. He would handle that cluster fuck another time. Today Angel only wanted to focus on Garam. He sat quietly at the table scrolling through his phone.

it only made sense, to garam at least, that he'd worry about disturbing anybody's peace. he was my boyfriend and i had to worry about annoying him. the words garam thought but didn't dare actually verbalizing. he'd already eluded to axel enough, he didn't want to directly speak of him and risk ruining the air between himself and angel right now. he was also afraid of angel possibly being hurt by the fact that garam was thinking about his ex in a moment like this. "just tell me if whatever i'm doing bothers you." at least if he found out early on, he'd know how not to behave going forward. "and i mean anything. if i snore too much when i'm asleep or if i chew too loud, talk too loud, or breathe too loud." the last one was a habit he only found himself doing when his focus was intense while gaming, something he had to break himself out of since it was commented on a lot pretty early on in his career. but outside of his fanbase, nobody else had found the sound of his breathing to be bothersome. it took him a moment to gather the courage to drop his hands from his face and, when he did, his cheeks were so red. he was beyond just embarrassed, especially after angel continued to question him. everything after good boy essentially went in one ear and out the other without his brain having the chance to process what was said to him. he was only pulled back to reality once the other tugged at his earlobe, a soft moan leaving his lips snaping his attention. then most of angel's words began to register, his brows beginning to furrow as he instantly moved his hands to his lap to provide himself what little coverage his hands could give. "you can't say things like that to me." he whispered, shaking his head. it just wasn't fair, anybody could get garam to do whatever they wanted with the smallest amount of appraisal. even if it wasn't necessarily in a sexual or physical context. his gaze dropped down to his own lap, brows furrowing even more as he grew frustrated with himself for getting turned on by those words; good boy. he really did want to eat breakfast with angel, he wanted to go out shopping together and just spend the day with him. but his body wanted something more than that, more than what was already given to him. garam looked back to up angel, doing all that he could not to look as desperate as felt he was to be touched by the man again. "i don't want you to think i'm some sex addict or anything like that, because i'm-i'm not." but how could anybody believe that when angel had gotten him hard, in some sense, three times now in less than a twenty four hour timeframe. maybe it was because it'd been such a long time since he felt excited for something as simple as physical touch, knowing that there was true emotion behind angel's words and his actions weren't driven by the desire to come by any means. "you've always been so careful with me, you've always gone out of your way to care for me. how am i not supposed to be turned on by you? emotionally—" he felt guilty, knowing that others could see that garam used angel emotionally before he had the chance to realize it, himself, "i'm so sorry for having done this to you. i mean, i'm sure you've had lovers in the mean time but waiting and watching the things i've done, how i've behaved, who i associated with... i'm not a good boy, i shouldn't be rewarded when i've been so bad." he slowly moved his hands away from his lap, letting them fall from his thighs to rest on top of the mattress on each side of his calves; his fingers grasping at the material below them. "we should eat," he blurted out, thinking if he changed the subject quick enough, angel wouldn't have a chance to process what he'd said and respond. "you're hungry and i'm hungry. and-and there's a lot i have to buy and i don't want to be out too late... you know, just in case." the last thing he wanted was to risk running into axel and have their day together ruined.

[femmenature]

Good luck, Babe!

Pairing: Ellie Williams x f! reader (ofc)

Summary: Ellie is your best friend, or so you tell yourself after you're done kissing and doing things that friends don't normally do. But that's over since you have a boyfriend, and you're pretending to be something you're not.

Warnings: Inappropriate language, infidelity, mentions of sex, jealousy.

-

Your “friendly” relationship with Ellie was not easy, even if it seemed quite the opposite when you were alone with no one watching. You couldn't explain when this happened. When you started to see each other as more than friends, your mind blurs as you try to remember when her hands fit so well with yours and when the songs she played on her guitar started to play just for you. You think you don't remember because nerves make your brain melt, and your heart melt too. She's the only one who can do it, and losing control of the situation makes you despair. That's what led you to cut everything off, actually, you don't even know what you cut off. You couldn't define what you had, you were and still are friends. You broke the unexpected news about your new boyfriend with your friends, she was there too. It was an impulsive act because you knew you couldn't tell her alone.

“girl, congratulations I'm so happy for you!” exclaimed Dina happily as she hugged you.

“It's about time, isn't it?” Jesse joked as he playfully undoes your hair.

As soon as Dina broke the hug Ellie's face came into your view. She didn't say anything, her eyebrows were slightly furrowed trying to decipher what the fuck was going on. She looked at you with a hint of sadness but also with a claim, she wanted to claim so many things, she wanted to get angry and demand so much from you. Her heart was ready to tell you to give her back everything you were taking from her at that moment but on the other side she was dying to ask you not to do it, not to leave her, not to give up, to stay with her.

“I'm happy for you, good luck” but that's all that came out of her mouth, it seemed that the last words carried an ironic tone, but only you noticed it, because you knew very well what she was trying to tell you.

After that day it was obvious that your friendship wasn't the same, you didn't hang out alone, you only hung out with Jesse and Dina, and it was better that way. Or that's what you were trying to tell yourself. Your thoughts were interrupted by Dina, who texted you to party tonight. Obviously we were all going to go, she has great convincing power. The problem is that your boyfriend is going too, and Ellie is going to meet him. You had double dates with Jesse and Dina, they ended up being double dates because Ellie conveniently always canceled when she found out your boyfriend was going too. But I guess that changed today, or it would be too suspicious if she didn't come again.

“What are you thinking, gorgeous?” ugh, you hated that nickname. Or you just hated it coming out of his mouth. Because you really liked it when it came out of Ellie's.

You faked a smile and sighed before answering your boyfriend “I was just thinking about the party today”

He walks up to you with a cocky smile “I'm going to be with you, you don't have to worry about it” clearly that's not what you were talking about, but you just let it go. “And aren't you excited? I'm finally going to meet your friend Annie”

“It's Ellie. Not Annie” you roll your eyes, you couldn't help it. You were annoyed by something as simple as him mispronouncing her name. But it's her name. How could he mispronounce it? You couldn't hide your annoyance over something so small and it bothered you. It bothered you to know that you are losing control of the situation with the pronunciation of her simple name. You didn't need her presence to be overwhelmed with emotions and that scares you, it scares you too much.

“Chill, Ellie, whatever” his words were vague, he didn't even care about meeting your friends, he just wants to give you satisfaction by pretending he does. It was time to leave for the party and meet your friends there. It was a house, doors open, people kissing on the front steps, Christmas lights adorning the frames, even though the season was long gone. Plastic cups everywhere, laughter and scattered conversations were the decoration of the place but your eyes were only looking for her. A hand touched your shoulder and as you turned around you saw Dina smiling at you and your boyfriend.

“Finally lovebirds, it took forever” you hugged her greeting her and when you rested your face on her shoulder you saw her. Ellie was behind, looking at you, playing with her hands nervously as she looked at him and then quickly to the floor. As if it was the most eccentric thing ever. You broke away from Dina and waved to Jesse, then did the same to Ellie.

“Finally, its a pleasure Annie, I was looking forward to meeting you” your boyfriend interrupted the greeting with Ellie, smiling with false honesty. You looked at him angrily, you had literally reminded him of her name a few minutes ago, it seemed like he was doing it on purpose. I was about to remind him again when Ellie cut me off.

“It's nice to meet you Frank” she replied coldly, looking him in the eye. Your boyfriend sighed in frustration and reluctantly replied “My name is Mark”

“I guess the three of us have bad memories, hm?” Ellie tapped his shoulder as she passed and escaped the situation, heading for the bathroom

“all three of us?” Mark looked at you in confusion, trying to guess what she tried to say

You ignored his question and decided to confront Ellie once and for all, entering the bathroom without knocking. Her hands were resting on the marble countertop and her head was down. “What are you doing here” she didn't even need to see you to know it was you. She knows your steps, your perfume, she knows everything about you. “Shouldn't you be with your little boyfriend?” she spat angrily.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? did you really have to leave like that? doesn't it seem too obvious?" you pull your hair back in frustration. She looks at you in disbelief “Are you fucking with me? that's what you're going to tell me? I should be complaining about things”

she herself pointed to her chest, wanting somehow to make you understand what she is saying “you come all this way to point out to me that I am being obvious when you didn't even give me a reason to stop being obvious. You just showed up one day exclaiming you had a boyfriend and all I could do was step aside and let you go” her hand went back to the bathroom counter, squeezing it ”when you didn't give me any reason to do so. And I don't know how you do it but it's not easy for me to stop loving you overnight, so I'm sorry for not disguising it the way you would want me to” Her hand reached for the door handle but your back instantly pressed against the door closing it again.

“You know it wasn't the right thing to do, what we were doing” her hand was still on the door handle as she looked you in the eyes “then why are you blocking my way?” she whispered as her heart was racing. And all you wanted to tell her was the truth. Because you couldn't let her go like that, because she's all you want, all you long for, but your mouth said something else “we were nothing, just confused friends.”

She laughed under her breath with sarcasm “Is it so hard for you to say it's love? I want you to tell me something” she let out a sigh ”When you see his face when he gets up, do you recognize yourself? Really, when you look at yourself in the mirror, do you know yourself?” Your eyes betrayed you and looked quickly at the mirror next to you, returning your gaze quickly to her, with a hint of embarrassment ”Because I have no idea who you are. And when you finally wake up from your lie after so many years of living a sham, the only thing you're going to get from me is an I told you so.”

your gaze dodges her and your back peels away from the door , leaving the way clear for her to leave the bathroom “and I really would have liked it to be you. Shit, I really do, but if I have to beg you to stay I guess you don't love me enough, and I just want someone who feels the same way I do” her fingers moved closer to yours, trying to caress them, the distance was so deep even though the centimeters were ridiculously short ”I wouldn't care what they say about us, loving you is never going to be something shameful, I never saw it that way. I never felt it that way, I wish you would understand that and stop being afraid. But I can't force you to feel more love than you do.”

The only thing that sounded after that was the door being closed. The feeling of anguish that dwells in your chest feels so heavy that it drags you down to the cold bathroom floor. You hug your legs trying to protect yourself from your own guilt screaming at you from the mirror. Even though you know your shadow's speech by heart, at the end of the day it is yours. And even if you try to hide it's still there, telling you that you will never be happy if you deny yourself what you really love. Why do you need control? You keep telling yourself that it's natural to be with him when you know it's unnatural to force yourself to touch his face when your heart doesn't want to. And the most real you ever felt in life was with her. It makes you sick to know that you have to go home to him and have to put up with the lack of love you feel, or don't feel. So you get up from the bathroom, and when you see yourself in the mirror, the only thing you think is that you want to know yourself again, and you know who knows you well enough to remind you of who you are.

In a hurried step you opened the door and looked for her through the crowd, not finding her silhouette you left the house, ignoring the calls of your friends and Frank. Her car was in sight, you would recognize it anywhere since on starry nights we drove around in it listening to music. The lights came on, indicating that she was inside, about to leave, and you rushed over, opening the passenger door, without permission, and sat down. “What are you doing? You really have a problem with opening doors unexpectedly” she scowled at you.

“I'm an idiot. And you're right, everything you said to me in the bathroom, you're right. But you were wrong about one thing” you swallowed nervously looking into her eyes with sincerity ”I love you as much as you love me. And yes, fear paralyzed me, the lack of control over my feelings made me make a stupid and senseless decision. I overflowed with love, I really did. And not being able to hold that back and put it in its place I ran away. This is not a justification, nor is it an excuse. I'm just telling you the truth, I want to be me again, and I was never more myself than when I'm with you. I don't want to be afraid of love. I don't want to walk away from you.”

"Then don't do it" her hand rested on your leg, caressing it with her thumb "let me remind you who you are" her hands unbuckled her car seatbelt and she approached me, resting her forehead on mine "let me love you like he could never do" and without saying anything, you kissed her like you never did before. Without fear.

-

I guess she told you so!

[waynes-multiverse]

The Exit Strategy – Part 3

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

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, some spice & implied smut (incl. a bit of dirty talk), mentions of a terrorist attack, a tiny bit of angst & feels, fluffy fluff

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: Thank you guys so much for your feedback on the last two parts! So happy I get to finally share this little adventure with you and that you all loved it so much 🥹🩵 Welp, let's dive in before I get too fucking sappy... 😝

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 3: This Is a Heart-To-Heart

With pursed lips and a clicking tongue, Russell’s eyes skimmed the seemingly endless aisle of breakfast cereals, his pointer finger drifting from box to box before it landed on the Lucky Charms. His lips rose to a satisfied grin, his heart skipping a beat as a memory popped into his mind.

The supermarket’s PA speakers announced the opening of a third cash register during the evening rush as Colter stood idly by, hands in the pockets of his jacket, and blew a raspberry. In his periphery, Russell could see his younger brother check his watch for the fifth time and smiled a little to himself.

“Russ, uhm, hate to break up your very serious choice of breakfast cereal here, but we need to move. We’re gonna be late,” Colter finally dared to remind him. Russell had wondered how long it would take. “Can’t you do your grocery shopping some other time?”

Russell only chuckled at that. “Oh, this isn’t that. I need this for tonight.”

“Uh-huh.” Colter wasn’t entirely convinced. “You do know we’re invited to dinner, right? There’s gonna be food. You don’t need to bring a–,” his eyes narrowed at the item Russell threw into the cart, “–box of Lucky Charms. Wow. Okay…” Colter scratched the nape of his neck. “You know, most people bring a bottle of wine. Flowers… You want me to–”

“Nope, I’m good.” Russell shook his head. “I have a plan, alright?”

“Oh, so now you have a plan?” Colter deadpanned. “Where was that plan when I got beat up in a supermarket alley?”

Russell snorted a laugh and cocked his brow. “Is that why you’re so jumpy since we walked in here? Did she actually give you supermarket PTSD?”

“I’m not jumpy,” Colter defended with a too defensive shrug.

“Well, alright, I’m almost done here,” Russell assured him and pulled out a tiny piece of paper with unreadable scribbles on it – his shopping list. “All I need now are Nacho Cheese Doritos, rocky road ice cream, brownies, and potato chips. Luckily, I already got the beer in the trunk.”

Colter’s frown deepened, but his lips quirked a tiny smile of amusement. “Alright, should I even ask?”

Russell laughed. “Trust me. Those are all the things I need to win her back. I know what I’m doing.”

Colter relented with a sigh. “Alright, gimme the list. I track down the snack aisle.”

“If you find them, I’ll give you a five dollar reward, little brother,” Russell quipped, earning him the middle finger as Colter rounded the corner.

Russell exhaled a sigh of relief once he was alone. All afternoon, he’d wracked his brain if he could or should tell Colter about you – about the fact he had a wife and two kids. Was now the right moment? Or had it already come and gone?

And if Russell was looking for a petty excuse, he could just audaciously claim Colter never asked. Never asked if Russell had someone special in his life. Never asked if he was an uncle yet. So, was it really on Russell to offer information that was never asked of him? Now, that wasn’t really his nature, was it?

Like he said, petty excuses…

Russell knew it was (mostly) on him. He did give way to the illusion he was a lone wolf without any strings anywhere. At the end of all his pondering, however, he came to the conclusion it was best to let you navigate how to proceed. You’d always been his compass.

On a late summer evening, with the sun slowly approaching the horizon and dipping the suburban cul-de-sac in shades of golden orange, you found two men on your doorstep: One who only looked familiar despite knowing him almost your entire adult life, and one who seemed familiar, even though you’d never met him before, but some unmistakable features and mannerisms reminded you of your husband.

Said husband beamed at you from ear to ear, carrying two paper bags worth of groceries in his arms. “Hey, sweetheart.”

The heart in your ribcage pounded faster as your eyes landed on his smile. Nothing and no one ever broke your composure or pulled the rug out from under your feet – but Russell had always managed to do both since day one.

“Well, I guess… come on in, guys,” you said with a small sigh of hesitation and held the door open wider, mentally preparing for an entirely unplanned night – they usually were whenever you spent time with the green-eyed chaos theory.

Never in a million years did you think you’d end up here when you met a young soldier on a sunny day at the American embassy in Iraq and put him through a baptism of enemy gunfire only a few hours later. And to be fair, he’d always been handsome, but the quirky shit didn’t reveal itself till later. If Russell Shaw had been a book, you would’ve definitely misjudged him by his cover.

Russell set the brown bags down on the kitchen island, a small smirk flickering across his plump lips. Internally, you heaved another sigh. Of course the idiot would think about sex – a curse conjured up by your own making. If Russell ever had a bad influence in his life, it would’ve been you.

“So, what did you bring me here?” you entertained his little plan, spying into one of the bags. You already had a pretty strong inkling of what might be inside, your heart swelling that he, A, cared and, B, even went as far as making a thoughtful, swoon-worthy effort.

He used to do these things all the time – till it all eventually stopped.

“Only the best for my girl,” Russell said, chuckling giddily as he hauled a tub of rocky road from a bag as if he was making a bunny appear from a hat. Only in your opinion, it was a way better magic trick.

“Oh no, you are the fucking best!” You squeezed his shoulders, short of jumping fully on him, with a grin from ear to ear. Your cheek muscles even began to hurt. You hadn’t smiled this much in ages. “Look at this! You even got brownies! You’re unbelievable, Shaw. You know I’ve been craving this shit for months. We’re supposed to be an organic family,” you explained with an eye roll, your hands still rummaging eagerly through the bags.

“Yeah, I figured somethin’ like this. Remember when you had to pretend to be vegetarian for that greenwashing gala?”

“God, don’t remind me. The asshole served cauliflower steaks and then turned around and shot a fucking lion,” you scoffed, both of you chuckling at the memory. Russell had been right in the chicken coop – it felt like no time had passed at all.

Not touching him and falling into his strong, warm embrace was hard. Not kissing him was harder. And being in his near vicinity without doing any of these things was unbearable. You weren’t just important to Russell; he was important to you, too. For a long time, he’d been the only person you could trust and confide in. You never lied to each other – that had been a rule.

“Wow, okay, so this is different,” Colter noted, you and Russell both glancing up at the young man across the island. As he was only met with two furrowed brows, he clarified, a finger gesturing to your cross necklace. “Just the-, uh, the whole swearing… I mean, at church you were… you know.”

You laughed when you realized what he meant. God knows your aliases had confused the shit out of Russell in the beginning, too – till he learned to take advantage of your role-playing skills. Then, he had tons of fun with it.

“Yeah, I know. Quite the mind-fuck, isn’t it? I usually only pretend to be someone else for a short job – a day or two, a single event. Deep-covers like this aren’t my favorite either,” you shared and hoped it would signal to Colter that he could relax. If his shoulders became any tenser, you’d worry they might freeze that way.

“Speaking of, where’s your husband?” Russell chimed in with a teasing grin.

For the briefest second, your reply would’ve been, “Which one?” Russell could see it, too – the twinkle in your eyes – but then you stopped short when you noticed his look.

Colter didn’t know you two were married. Oh, Russell…

“Basement. Finishing up our report,” you said in a quieter voice, turning on the faucet of the kitchen sink.

Colter’s brow knitted with an amused smile when Russell turned on the radio as well. “Is that really necessary?”

“Can’t be too careful,” both you and Russell replied, not even noticing you spoke at the same time, too zoned in on your routine.

“Who’s your mark?” Russell then asked, leaning back against the kitchen island in an angle that shielded his presence from the window as you got to work on your fake dishes.

“Congressman Eric Mueller.”

“A congressman? Really?” Colter’s brow raised before his eyes showed a little intrigue. “What’d he do?”

“Selling sensitive national security information to foreign agents,” you answered.

“How’s the pastor involved?” Russell asked, opening a box of Lucky Charms and stuffing a handful of dry cereal into his mouth.

“How do you know he’s involved?”

Russell only chuckled at your blatant diversion. “Oh, c’mon! You’re an open-minded person. I know you don’t hate the man for no reason. So, what’s the reason?”

You sighed in proud defeat – checkmate for Russell. “Mueller is laundering money through the church. Pastor’s taking a cut.”

“And?”

“He’s a pedo,” you finally admitted, dumping a clean plate ungraciously into the soapy water before swinging around to meet Russell’s eyes.

“There it is…” He nodded with a winning smirk that felt wrong, rubbing a hand through his beard. “Thought I caught a bit of a creeper vibe. Figured it was just all the kumbaya Jesus shit.”

“I wish… Every time he touches my arm, I wanna cut his hand off with a fucking spoon.”

“Well, we might get to that later if we find the time,” Russell quipped, flicking a marshmallow into the air before catching it with his mouth. You frowned – your son did the same damn thing in the mornings. “What information is Mueller selling?”

“Security protocols, blueprints…” you replied.

“To what?”

“Mall of America,” was all you said before the kitchen fell silent. Crickets. Well, and the faucet and radio… “Our intel suggests they’re planing an attack in December.”

“Well, merry Christmas,” Russell huffed bitterly. “So, that’s the carrot.”

“Yup, that’s the carrot,” you confirmed.

The lives of innocent children and families going about their Christmas shopping in America’s biggest mall was what the agency used to lure you back into the field – the carrot in front of your nose.

For days, you had debated whether to take the job or not, leave your family, and go back undercover to do things no one else wanted to do. But one look through the door at your peacefully sleeping son and daughter made the decision for you. How could you not go? If you didn’t do this, other parents might not get the same courtesy of seeing their children safe and sound in their beds and kissing them goodnight. So, you left your children for the sake of others.

Russell nodded with understanding, telling you he would’ve done the same thing if he were in your shoes. You knew he would have. Still, a part of you felt incredibly guilty, always hoping that Lewis and Amelia would understand someday when they were older.

“Who is it? Russia? China?” Russell asked.

“Neither. It’s an extremist splinter group. Has ties to both ISIS and Hezbollah, but works mostly out of Iran,” you said.

“How did you infiltrate Mueller? A guy trying to blow up a mall doesn’t strike me as a good Christian,” Russell noted.

“Well, he’s not, but his wife, Clara, is. She’s very involved in the church. Was easy to get in this way. I helped her with a few charity events. She got me a job as a bookkeeper for the church, not knowing I’d actually find a bunch of evidence there. Afterward, she invited me for coffee. Now, we have brunch on Mondays, play bridge on Wednesdays and tennis on Fridays. I’m at her house all the time. God knows I have the place bugged in every room now at this point…”

“Bridge,” Russell snorted in amusement, earning him a scolding glare from you. “Does she know?”

You shook your head. “Nope, doesn’t have a clue what her husband’s up to. Wonder what that feels like…” you muttered the last sentence under your breath, Russell narrowing his eyes at you. “He was in the Navy. Stationed in Pakistan. We think he got approached there. He was probably a sleeper agent till he got elected.”

“How far is he in it?”

“Honestly, can’t say. He might be fully turned or just doing it for the money and glory.”

“Glory?” Colter cocked a brow.

You confirmed his shock with a nod. “The mall’s in his district. After the attack, the plan is to portray him as a hero who vows to avenge his constituents. Puts him on the map as running mate for the next election.”

“Then they’d have someone on the top level,” Russell deduced thoughtfully and then found your eyes. “We can help.”

You felt the creases between your eyebrows deepening.

“Yeah, and I already told you – no, thank you,” you huffed, shaking your head. “I didn’t tell you all this as a sitrep, Russ. I told you, so you know we have everything under control, and you can leave again.”

“We both know I’m not going anywhere,” Russell replied stubbornly, his stern gaze drilling into yours. “I can help.”

Undeniably, Russell, with his expertise and certain skill set, would be a helpful addition. You had never trusted someone more in the field than him. The two of you had been an unstoppable team. After almost twenty years together, you could communicate with just a single look. You knew he always had your back, just as he knew you’d always have his – and in the espionage life, that was probably the greatest asset of all.

However, while your mind all too eagerly agreed with him, your heart protested just as heavily. It was a high-risk, high-stakes operation, and a part of you wanted to protect him and keep him as far away from it as possible. You’d known that feeling almost your whole adult life – since the day you’d met him, you had wanted to protect him. Whenever you ignored him, shot him down, or even left him, you were always doing it for his own good. Protecting him meant sometimes hurting him.

But the persistent motherfucker never listens…

Bringing your husband into this and turning your children into orphans wasn’t your only fear, though. There was still Colter.

“Oh, I know you can. I trained you. Remember?” you retorted with a fiery look.

Russell clicked his tongue. “So, this isn’t about me. It’s about him.”

“Oh, ‘cause I’m not one of you guys?” Colter quirked a brow and assured you with easiness in the shrug of his shoulders, “I can handle it.”

Ignoring him, your focus stayed on Russell – the culprit. “You brought a fucking clueless wildcard into a clandestine operation! No offense, Colter…”

“None taken,” Colter said with pursed lips.

“Bad move, Shaw,” you continued directing your anger at your husband.

“I can vouch for him. He’s good, alright? Trust me. He helped me out with something before. And just recently, he even stumbled onto a DoD black site,” Russell reasoned with a weak chuckle like he was sharing the family newsletter.

Your frown intensified. “Yeah, the word stumbled really fills me with tons of confidence here.” Then, you expelled a deep sigh. “Look, I know you two had a weird fucking childhood, but you, of all people, know it’s not the same thing! He isn’t trained for this.” Your eyes then drifted to the younger Shaw. “No offense, Colter, but if I ever need someone to kill a bunny, I call.”

“Little offense taken,” Colter quipped with a creased brow.

“I assure you he’s good, alright? Great, even,” Russell said, stepping closer to you. Your heart jittered, the movement like dominos that fell a path from your ribs up your spine and down your arms where goosebumps formed in their wake. “Everything he doesn’t know, I’ll teach him on the road. You don’t have to worry about a thing, sweetheart. Shaws are excellent at improvising. Remember the helicopter?”

“I remember screaming and wishing to die quickly for two hours straight.”

Russell pursed his lips, hiding an amused smile.

“You can fly a helicopter?” Colter asked, brow rising in genuine interest. He slightly leaned forward as if to hear better, cherishing those bits and pieces of his brother’s mysterious life. He hoped one day he would’ve collected enough of them till the nonsensical puzzle matched the picture on the box.

“Yup,” Russell grinned boyishly, wagging his eyebrows. “Named her Birdie. She was a beauty.”

“She was a piece of shit. And he couldn’t fly at the time, hence all the screaming on my part,” you clarified.

“She made me take flying lessons after, but honestly, I had a pretty good handle on it the first time round,” Russell bragged, earning him another frown from you. His irresistibly green eyes then bored into yours. “But it worked, didn’t it? We’re both still here, right?”

You exhaled another long sigh. You hated when he was right.

“Just take tonight to think about it, okay?”

“Fine, I’ll think about it,” you softened, feeling a warm palm gently splay across your back – slightly lower than a friend would place it. You knew Russell was lulling you into agreement – you had taught him that damn trick yourself – but you couldn’t deny it felt so, so, so nice.

“C’mon, ice cream’s melting. Let’s get some unhealthy food into you before you chew someone else’s head off,” Russell teased.

“I am kinda hungry,” you admitted in a meek mumble.

“Oh, I know. I can tell.” Russell chuckled behind you and kissed the top of your head, his arms snaking around your waist.

Fuck. It felt too good. Too familiar.

You wanted his hands to wander down, fingers lifting your skirt, brushing along your inner thighs on their way up. You wanted his head buried between your burning legs, fingers bruisingly gripping your hips while his tongue dipped into your heat. You wanted him to step even closer, tear your lace panties down, pry your buttcheeks apart, and take you hard and deep.

God, you hadn’t had sex in forever. Who could think clearly like that?

Swaying out of his embrace, you grabbed one of the paper bags and looked at him suggestively. “Wanna take this downstairs? I have to show you something.”

Russell’s lips twitched with a smile. He knew what it meant – not here.

His gaze then drifted to Colter. “You’re gonna be alright up here for a while?”

“I’m good.” His little brother nodded with a shadow of a smile as if he had only waited for the moment the two of you would excuse yourselves and retreat.

“I’ll send Tom up here. Have him brief you,” you said, both brothers’ eyes then blinking at you.

“Does this mean I’m in?” Colter asked.

“If you want to, you’re in,” you stated and muzzled a sigh.

Colter’s head bobbed for a moment, a hand scratching his throat. “Well, not exactly something you say no to.”

Russell and you shared an amused look and both replied, “We know.”

“Oh, Tom’s also made some lasagna. I’ll tell him to feed you,” you added kindly.

“Thank you.” Colter matched your smile.

“Whoa, not so fast,” Russell threw in, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Did your cute little hands have any involvement in the making of said meal?”

“No, Tom wouldn’t let me get near it,” you huffed with an annoyed eye roll.

“Smart man,” Russell quipped and then turned to his younger brother. “You should be safe to eat it, then.”

His joke earned him a whack of his chest from you.

“Ow!”

Russell followed you down the creaking wooden steps to the basement. The walls were still raw, the giant room unrenovated. In passing, you switched on the washing machine for an adequate noise level and pulled back the thick, navy curtains to reveal a whole setup with desks and computers.

Russell whistled lowly, green eyes flashing around the room. “Got the whole spy gear down here, huh?”

“Yup.”

Sliding an old artwork to the side, you entered a code into the wall safe. It held mostly sensitive information but also some personal items. You retrieved your private phone before locking it again. You scrolled through your photos until you found what you were looking for, handing it to Russell.

As soon as his eyes landed on a picture of his son on a swing set – with a grin brighter than the sun and one that looked just like a copy of his father’s – Russell inhaled sharply, his grip on the phone tightening.

“He looks like you,” you said softly, leaning your head against his bicep, tangling your arms around his. Then, you swiped to the next picture. “That’s Amelia on her second birthday. She liked blowing out the candles so much, I had to light them seventeen times in a row,” you giggled. But Russell only swallowed thickly, quietly laying the phone down on top of the dryer. You could see the tears well in his eyes again. “Was this too much? I’m sorry.”

Russell shook his head, offering you a sad smile. “No, uhm, it’s too little.”

“Yeah, I get that. Feels like they change every time I turn around. Bet they’re already looking different now,” you said with the same regret-filled sadness in your voice.

“When this is over, you think I could see them?”

The hopefulness shimmering in his green orbs devastated you, adding a few more cracks to your already damaged and bruised heart.

“Of course you can. You can see them as much as you want,” you assured him. “Maybe Amelia first? She’s still little. I mean, it’s just–”

“No, I get it,” he brushed off your concerns with an easy smile, but you could see all the hurt underneath it. “Lewis is older. It’s more complicated. He probably doesn’t even remember me.”

“Russ… Of course he remembers you,” you said. “You’re his dad. He has a picture of you on his nightstand. He talks to you every day.”

Russell snorted a humorless chuckle, the guilt eating him alive from the inside out. “Kinda makes it worse, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t think it does,” you replied, smiling softly. “He missed you. We all did.”

Russell’s lips on yours took you by surprise, reminding you of the first kiss you’d shared – only back then, the roles had been reversed, and he’d been the shocked one.

The kiss was gentle and tentative, nothing hasty or thoughtless about it. He still tasted the same. He still felt the same, even though the beard tickled slightly. His large hands cupped your face – a perfect fit – his thumb sweetly caressing your cheek as he pulled back, hazy pine green eyes searching for yours.

“Sorry,” he said with a rather unapologetic smile and a bob of his Adam’s apple. “Couldn’t hold back any longer.”

“It’s fine,” you mumbled with a half-hearted shrug and tiptoed up to claim his lips again, your arms draping around his neck and pulling him closer.

What started slow and careful became a fever dream when your tongue slipped inside his mouth, his hands wandering down your sides till they reached their rightful place on your lower back. Your mind flooded with every kiss, every touch the two of you had ever shared, your heart close to bursting because it had found its missing piece again.

As he drew back, his nose brushed yours, his fingers lovingly tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. His eyes then focused on the top of your head. A smile rose on your lips, guessing his intentions.

“Can I?”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip. “Go ahead.”

Carefully, he lifted the wig from your head, and a few sorries and giggles later, the fake hair was gone. Removing the hair clips and tie, you gestured with your chin to the desk.

“Can you hand me that blue case?”

Russell grabbed the small case and turned to you with a cheeky smile. “Eye drops, too?”

You nodded, and he came back to you with the requested items. Pulling your eyelids open with your fingers, you took out the colored lenses, placing them back in their case.

Russell held up the eye drops. “Want me to do the honors?”

You giggled and gave him another nod. “Yes, please. You know I hate doing that stuff.” Russell then gently pulled down your eyelid as you tilted your head back. “God, this feels so sexy…”

Russell laughed, the sound reverberating deep in his chest. “You’re always sexy. Doesn’t matter if I’m giving you eye drops or stitching you up.”

“That’s sweet, but shut up. We both know you’re lying. You’ve sewn me back together in some pretty rough states,” you remarked, but your cheeks couldn’t stop from rising higher and higher.

“And vice versa,” Russell said simply, administering the last drop into your right eye.

“Ugh, fucking burns.” You sniffled, blinking your eyes a couple of times till the sting subsided.

Russell’s hands then cupped your cheeks, bringing your focus to him. He smiled at you, bright and warm. “There she is,” he said softly, his voice only a whisper. Your heart tugged in your chest, trying to squeeze itself through your ribs just to be closer to him. “Missed those beautiful eyes.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you teased and pressed your lips on his, slow and sensual – careful. As you glanced up at him, your heart cracked a little more again, your eyes welling up and burning with tears.

“Hey, what is that? Why are you crying?” Russell worriedly checked on you like you were a kid with a fever, his thumb catching a salty teardrop that had escaped.

“It’s the eye drops,” you replied lightheartedly in a last ditch effort to hide the all-consuming guilt in your stomach.

Russell sent you a kind smile, stroking your cheek. “I don’t think it’s the eye drops, sweetheart…”

“I’m so sorry, Russ. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought I was helping you…”

“I know. I know…” he soothed and opened his arms. “C’mere.” As you fell into his embrace, he kissed your crown repeatedly, his arms holding you just as tightly as you held onto him. One palm patted the back of your head, the other rubbing your back in soothing circles. “I know you did, okay? And I know why you left. It did help, you know? To get my own head outta my ass… Just one of those things, I guess. Didn’t know I needed to hit rock bottom first before realizing what I’d lost. I’m only sorry I didn’t get my shit together sooner.”

Swallowing, with an ear on his chest, you listened to his heartbeat for a moment – steady, strong, safe. There wasn’t one single person in this world that could give you what Russell always could – comfort. It was what you wanted the most, what you needed during your worst times, and what you goddamn craved, always.

“You know, when you didn’t come back after a year, I was scared you finally found what you’re looking for, and it wasn’t me,” you admitted quietly, swallowing.

Before Russell, you barely ever shared your true feelings and thoughts with anyone, not even family and friends. Your heart, mind, and soul stayed hidden like your personality, your identity, and everything else that made you you. But Russell had always seen beyond the walls, the masks, and the aliases.

He drew back slightly, the hand that tangled in your hair lifting your head till you met his eyes and their loving crinkles. “Never gonna happen,” he assured you with nothing but honesty in his gaze. “You’re it, baby. You know I’m a one-and-only kinda guy,” he quipped, flashing you his signature grin. “You’re everything I ever wanted, sweetheart. The only family I ever had, really. I should’ve told you that sooner. Maybe you wouldn’t have left then.”

“This is soon enough,” you said and pecked his lips. “Why didn’t you tell Colter about me? Or the fact that he’s an uncle?”

With a sigh, Russell grabbed the brown paper bags, the ice cream in it surely melted by now, and settled down on the raw concrete floor, leaning his back against the rumbling washing machine. “Well, if we’re gonna talk, we might as well do it old school. Sit down. Eat,” he ordered you.

Taking a seat next to him, you grabbed a container of room-temperature rocky road and opened it. “Whoa, that is soup, yep!” you exclaimed with a laugh.

“Eh, it’s better when it’s melted anyway,” Russell remarked.

“So true…”

“Hand me the Doritos.”

“Yup.”

Quietly, you and Russell then created your dish like the two of you were parodies of Gordon Ramsey on the comedy channel, and only after savoring that first bite of rocky road cream soup with Nacho Cheese Dorito sprinkles (the croutons to your meal if you will), did you stray back to topic.

“So?”

“Right, uhm…” Russell scratched the back of his neck.

You snorted in amusement. “You always do this, you know.” He raised his brow, giving you a sideways look. “You change the subject and distract me in that cutesy way of yours.”

“I don’t think I’m cutesy.”

“You were twenty years ago,” you countered with a fond smile and took a crunchy, spicy spoonful of your soup. “I still see you that way sometimes, you know?”

“God, I hope not,” he groaned, chuckling. “That’s just horrifying.”

“You weren’t so bad. Pretty sweet, actually.” You shrugged, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. Russell had always been the lost little duckling that had imprinted on you.

He smirked, but his cheeks betrayed him by turning sweetly red. “Yeah, that’s how I lured you in.”

“I don’t think you did much luring, big guy…” you retorted. “You had zero game.”

“What?!”

“Oh, c’mon, Russ… This can’t come as a surprise to you,” you said, giggling.

“Fine,” he caved with a roll of his eyes and chuckled lightly. He scratched the scruff on his throat. “Guess I was a little nervous that night. You were really intimidating.”

You snorted a laugh. “I know.”

“‘M glad you made the first move, though.”

“I made all the moves,” you corrected teasingly. Your gaze then fell pensively to your lap, where your fingers nervously fumbled. Your heart jolted once, like the jump start of a car. “So, uhm, you know… were you making any moves on other people?”

“People?”

“Women,” you clarified and pursed your lips. You didn’t look at him. You knew he would probably find your discomfort amusing.

“Ah.” Russell smacked his lips, trying his hardest not to grin. Then he looked at you – brow raised in an almost scolding manner, but his lips curved upwards and gave his act away, dimples barely hidden by the beard. He held that gaze till you finally met his green eyes. “Have you not been listening to me before? I told you – there’s only you, sweetheart.”

Your brows drew into a frown. “Don’t sweetheart me. It’s been three years, Russ.”

“So?” He twitched his broad shoulders. “You know that’s not a problem.”

“Well, that was before…”

Russell snorted loudly. The crinkles around his eyes doubled as he rubbed the tears out of them. “What, you think sleeping with you has suddenly awoken the dragon?”

“You don’t have to make it sound so ridiculous,” you muttered.

Russell licked his lips, nodding. “Well, news flash – you’re the only treasure for this dragon, baby.”

You stifled a gasp. “I said less ridiculous!”

His grin only broadened, but then he apparently decided to let you off the hook. “Look, in the past three years, has there been opportunity and maybe a little flirting? Sure. But nothing ever came of any of it. Twice, I came scarily close to kissing someone, but I bolted. Wanna know why?”

“Yes? I think…” you replied hesitantly, causing that infuriating smile of his to rise again.

“‘Cause all of it felt like cheating on my wife. So, are we done with this now?”

Defiantly, you shrugged him a nod, but your heart pumped warm, fuzzy happiness into your veins before Russell’s next question made them freeze again.

“Bigger question is, did you kiss a few toads? Or, you know, did some quacking?”

Your lips rose till dimples formed and your cheeks started to hurt. “Please let me be there when you give the kids the sex talk…”

“Okay, don’t even try to change the subject now,” he chided playfully. “I just meant out of the two of us…”

He choked on his words when you narrowed your eyes to a small glare.

“Out of the two of us what, Russell? Please finish that sentence.” Your voice rang with challenge.

“Nothing.” Sheepishly, he scratched the nape of his neck again. “I just meant that, you know, you’re the one who has more, uh… experience in that area.” When your glare morphed into daggers, he swallowed thickly and corrected course, clearing his throat. “Which, you know, I’m real happy about because God knows I’ve profited greatly off of it.”

“Are you slut-shaming me right now?”

“Nope, mm-mm. No, ma’am.” Russell’s lips pressed into a thin line. Then he muttered under his breath, “Not like you’ve sent more soldiers off to war than Bush… Ow!”

Russell rubbed the burning spot on his chest where you had punched him.

“That one hurt this time…” he groaned.

“Good.” The daggers in your eyes blunted back to a frown. You let out a sigh. “You’re an idiot. Please move on.”

“Yes, ma’am.” With curled lips, Russell bobbed his head. “So?”

Musingly, you then rolled your eyes to the ceiling, your head falling back as your tongue darted out between your lips. “Alright, let’s see… In the last three years, I’ve slept with one, two…” you muttered and then mouthed till #4, beginning to count on your fingers.

“Oh, stop it! You think you’re real funny, young lady, huh?” Russell huffed.

When you saw his exasperated expression, you bursted into laughter, the sound echoing off the bare concrete walls.

“C’mon, I had to,” you choked out your excuse between belly-crippling laughs and hysterical snorts. “I’m a single mom of two small children. I’m thankful if I get five minutes in the shower alone.”

Russell laughed a little too, but his heart flooded with relief. The thought of you with someone else had gnawed on him for some time, sharp little bites that pricked his soul. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if it were true – well, aside from dissecting amphibians.

“Almost gave me a heart attack, sweetheart,” Russell chuckled. “Can’t do this to me anymore. That was a young man’s game…”

Instead of uttering an apology, you captured his lips, kissing him till his head spun even more. His breathing quickened, his heart clinging to every last bit of oxygen when your tongue slipped past his lips. His hands tugged on your hips only all too eagerly until he had pulled you into his lap. Your legs straddled his muscular thighs, your clothed cunt rubbing against the growing erection in his jeans. Your underwear soaked at the thought of him splitting you open.

“Make me cum,” you sighed into his ear, nibbling on his lobe. “Want you inside of me again.”

“You’re killing me here,” he groaned as you kissed your way down his throat, teeth grazing over his skin. His fingers twitched with an itch to crawl up your thighs, push any obstruction to the side, and plunge right into your surely wet and waiting channel.

“Good,” you smirked, rocking your hips harder against his bulge.

“Sweetheart, I’d love to, but you’re not exactly quiet.” He chuckled against your lips. “We’d have to blast some death metal on the highest volume for the neighbors not to hear. Doubt they ever heard those sounds coming outta this house.”

With a frustrated huff, you relented breathlessly and slid from his warm lap back to the cold, empty space next to him, cursing the bad timing.

“First time I stitched you up was pretty memorable,” Russell noted after a labored minute, a tiny smirk tugging on his lips.

Your cheeks blushed, your chest still heaving with panting excitement, but you matched his mischievous smile with your usual cocky attitude. “Bet it was. I looked hot in that towel.”

“Yeah, you did. Had a pretty massive boner the whole time. Was surprised you never noticed,” Russell said.

You grinned. “Who says I didn’t?”

“Oh, I know you didn’t, or you would’ve jumped me right there in that bathroom,” Russell teased.

Gasping, you slapped his arm. “I did not jump you!”

“You kinda did.” Russell only laughed harder, with that same boyish grin he always carried when he was happy. “All you wanted was to pull my pants down and hop on for a quick fix.”

“Really? Are you done now?” you playfully scolded him. “And excuse me for wrongly assuming a soldier who’d been stuck in the desert for months with a bunch of other dudes might want sex if the opportunity arises.”

Russell’s boisterous smirk only grew wider. “You wanted me. You had it bad.”

The heat in your face was burning, your tongue poking the insides of your cheeks. “Alright, I don’t think you need an ego boost, Shaw.”

“Still think I’m handsome?” he asked you with a nudge of his elbow.

Pursing your lips, you musingly narrowed your eyes at him, assessing him in jest. “I don’t know. You are a little more rugged these days. The beard’s definitely a midlife crisis.”

Amused, Russell quirked an eyebrow. “Midlife crisis?”

“Yeah, what’s next? Buying a ridiculous car and brewing beer in your basement?”

“Actually, I brew it in the trunk of the ridiculous car.”

Your brows drew together. “Shit. Really?”

Russell laughed loudly, throwing his head back. “Yeah, really.” He then a hauled a bottle of unlabeled beer from the bag, handing it to you. “Taste it. It’s good.”

“If it tastes anything like that schnapps you made in that Guatemalan prison, then no thank you,” you retorted, uncapping the bottle and taking a sniff.

“I promise this wasn’t made in a designated pee bucket, alright?” Russell laughed. “Just drink it. Tell me what you think.”

“Alright, here goes nothing,” you mumbled and took a hesitant, quick sip. Then you took another longer one, squishing the liquid around in your mouth. Your brow raised. “Huh. Not bad,” you remarked, watching Russell’s grin widen. “Why do I taste marshmallows?”

Russell then fully beamed at you. “Knew you’d get it. Took me a while to perfect it. Wasn’t easy, you know? The secret is only adding one of those little Lucky Charms marshmallows. First try, I used the whole pack. God, that was gross.”

“That’s actually pretty genius,” you said with an impressed smile.

“Well, if it is, I kinda owe it to you. You were the OG food genius.”

Smiling, you leaned back against the washing machine with a small sigh, your head dropping to his broad shoulder as you snuggled up against him. He opened his arm and pulled you closer as you nursed your sweet-tasting beer. Russell placed another kiss on your temple, calloused fingers gently caressing your skin.

“When did this job get so hard?”

“Wasn’t it always kinda hard?” Russell answered your rhetorical question, mumbling half his answer into your hair.

“Guess so. Didn’t always feel that way, did it?”

“No, we had some pretty good times,” Russell said with a warm smile and pecked your crown once more.

“You think we’re bad people?”

Russell’s absentminded gaze dropped to you then, now fully focused. “What’s bringing this on, hm?”

You only shrugged in his embrace.

“Alright, I’ll play,” Russell said and then hummed. “Well, we’re not the best people…”

“I was hoping for a little more reassurance,” you said with a playful huff.

Russell chuckled softly. “Look, we always did what we thought was right. And we’ve seen real bad… evil. I don’t think we fall into that category, sweetheart.”

You nodded against his chest. “I guess so…”

Part 4: This Is Not an Exit – JANUARY 31

One of the things I loved writing most about this series were the deep conversations between all characters, but especially this one in the basement. Hope you enjoyed this as much as I did before we break some, uhm, news to Colter next week 😉

☕️ Ko-Fi 🩵 Tag List

TAGS:

Forevers: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02

@thebiggerbear @star-yawnznn @thej2report

Series: @deansimpalababy @koalamama @inknopewetrust

[woman-respecter]

https://spacelazarwolf.tumblr.com/post/773519683757441024/like-this-week-has-already-been-hell-enough-but-to

https://www.tumblr.com/soup-in-the-inbox/773519016105050112/if-this-is-the-same-person-i-got-screamed-at-and

https://www.tumblr.com/transmascpetewentz/773522400765673472/dunked-idiot-is-a-detransitioner-who-is

These guys need to grow a pair already ffsss

1. i like how he claims i’m helping the govt make his existence be illegal by just saying the w-word. like no there is absolutely no correlation between those things. overdramatic ass

2. the word choice of “screamed” is doing a lot for me here” like obviously it’s hard to tell tone online but i really don’t think anything i have done in this whole discussion is at all like screaming. ig that’s the nature of being a woman where if u say something not 100% niceys and agreeable that’s screaming

3. man i just hate how detransitioners are treated. the way that people will point out that someone is detrans as a way to completely discount their opinion. i thought it was fine if someone transitioned and changed their mind but ig not. feel like they get treated like such shit from all sides of the political spectrum.

[late4the-party]

Many things I want to say, I hope I won't forget anything. I'm not part of any mob. It's just me, one tiny blog that if people had taken the time to look at they'd see how little I post. Please, do take a look at my archive. At the beginning I had made only three posts about TDP. I'm not a blog dedicated to this show. If the first blog that reblogged my post hadn't done that I bet no one would had noticed my words. I didn't want this to blow even more so I had muted that post. I'm still getting notifications, so I guess the muting didn't cover my reblog too. I would like to mute the whole thing now because the more I reply the more it will really look as if I were part of that mob. And I don't have the time nor the interest in making a campaign against the show. I just wanted to speak my mind and that be it. Btw, taking a quick look I saw someone saying that if I don't like the show then just don't watch it. I did take it out of my list after I finished the season. I'm genuinely surprised when I read you saying that there's a mob wanting the cancellation of the show. At Rotten Tomatoes it is rated with a 100% likes. At twitter I just found three comments in Aaron's tweets. And a couple of videos at YouTube. All these expressing their discontent, not promoting cancelation. Maybe that mob is mainly just on Tumblr? If anyone reading knows of a website or an app that helps finding a person's comments on other people's posts on Tumblr, check me. I'm not on the look out for new posts related to the show, throwing hate on those who think different than what I think. I don't do that. I see your point in how my words are contradicting themselves. What I meant was this. If they have material that cannot be covered in say 5 seasons, they need 10. Ok. Go, present your project and leave it there. I don't like when they see their show doing good and then extend it more and more seasons. Stretching the story through filler episodes.

The show premiered in September 2018. That's 6 years, 4 moths ago. For 5 years, 10 months it was going to be 7 seasons long. People has complained about how the story slowed down after season 3. If there hadn't been filler episodes I would had thought "Ok, no biggie, they just didn't plan correctly". But those filler episodes,... it's hard not to think that they are trying to stretch the story as much as possible to get as many seasons approved as possible. To gain as much as possible. Filler episodes don't contribute to the development of the story. They build nothing or very little. Now, how to stretch the story and not get the fans bored? That's what I was talking about when I first wrote about them just giving us cute moments with our favorite ships. It's no secret Netflix in general only approves 3 seasons. They approve more only if a show is doing incredibly well. There have been many shows that even after ending in a cliffhanger they didn't get approved. This is no secret. Aaron cannot claim ignorance on this. They could had ended the story in season 7 as they had originally planned. They could had chosen not to slow the pace. They took the risk of not getting renewed. With that tweet Aaron is trying to get the fandom to pressure Netflix into approving more. Sorry but he do is manipulating the fans here. I think it's so clear I don't understand how people are choosing not to see this. About what you wrote about offering criticism. I did write a previous post mentioning some points about season 7. Previous seasons to that I didn't have the blog to write them on. In this previous post there's something that will be contradictory big time: Among other things I wrote how the show deserved a better planned ending or end it with a movie. At that point I didn't know Aaron wanted that 3rd arc. Someone's comment on my post made me aware of it. I checked his twitter and saw that message from him. My head went through all those thoughts that I explained after the Facebook screenshot. I got mad at him. Again, he could had chosen to stick to his original 7 seasons plan. (Sorry to be repetitive) If every episode had been loaded with things that were really building the story then I wouldn't had gotten mad. It would had been bad planning. I cannot see how this is not greed from his part. That's what changed my mind from "come on, at least one movie to give us closure", to "no, no green light so other show creators don't start doing the same". As I mentioned in my first post, this is not the first show to do this. There is one other who has been using this same technique. It is frustrating seeing a show starts being so good and then slowly turn into this. "What? Did I say 3 seasons? No I meant 7." Then on season 6 "Did I say 7? I meant 10". The story is affected by this stretching but most of the fandom are so obsessed they don't see that. They don't care. It's frustrating seeing this. Do you really think ATLA would had been as epic as it was if that same story had been dragged for 10 seasons? That's what I'm against of. That's my reasoning. @lawchan89 I never wrote that they don't deserve to have jobs. Don't change my words please. I agree that there is a lot of unhealthy toxic behavior is going on in social media. Believe me when I say part of me wishes there were no social media at all. Or at least that creators didn't listen to it. On one hand because there are some who have altered their stories just to do fan service. On the other hand because all that fanatism is what fuels this never ending series. "The fans are loving it! See how you can stretch the story!" I did say I didn't like season 7. And as I said before I had muted the notifications. (didn't know I also needed to mute my reblog or I wouldn't had seen both of your comments) I did remove the show from my list. I seriously think a future trailer could make me want to retake the series. There's a chance this will start more reblogs from other ppl. I don't want to keep this soup cooking any longer. So I may need to mute this too.

Thanks for reading.

It is normal to develop some emotional attachment to fictional characters in a TV show or a book. It is not nice of him to use that attachment to keep his show going, to keep making profits.

This is not the first time a show creator does this. They add beautiful moments with the couples that we love to keep us obsessed and asking for more. And there we go falling for this manipulative trick. I’m so glad I found that tweet by Alexandria. Be conscious of this people and have a little bit of pride in yourselves. Don’t let them use you to keep making more money.

Seven seasons was more than enough to develop a great story with a satisfying ending. I’m sorry but I hope Netflix won’t greenlight more. Creators and producers need to stop doing this.

[thatidiotsuds]

John Price x Fem! Wife! Reader

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or images used in this work, nor do I claim any rights to them.

Warning ⚠️ : kissing 💋

Kit's Notes: Not proof-read and I may have stated "Johnny" here a couple of times since I wrote this for soap and changed the character to Price last minute.😅 Because this really gives Dad Vibes.

Word count: 2080. Masterlist

Finally Home

It was late at night, the kind of night where the world outside felt heavy with silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. John Price had just returned home after being deported for over a month, and the weight of his experiences clung to him like a second skin. Friends lost, bloodshed, and fear—things no one should ever have to witness. But now, he was back, and that was all that mattered.

He quietly placed his keys on the table, the sound echoing in the stillness of the house. Dropping his bag, he made his way upstairs, where the warmth of home awaited him. As he entered the bedroom, he found you sleeping peacefully, the soft rise and fall of your chest a soothing sight after the chaos he had endured.

“Love…” he whispered, his thick English accent wrapping around the word like a warm blanket. He slipped into bed beside you, the familiar scent of your hair grounding him. You stirred, blinking sleep from your eyes, and smiled at him.

“I’m tired, love…” he murmured, burying his face into your shoulder, inhaling the comfort of home. “I missed you…” he mumbled against your skin, his voice thick with emotion.

“I missed you too,” you replied softly, your heart aching for the man who had seen too much.

John pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, even in the dim light of the room, his own filled with a mix of exhaustion and longing. He brushed a stray hair from your face, his calloused fingers gentle against your skin. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, sweetheart…”

You smiled, concern flickering in your eyes. “You look like you need a drink.”

He let out a small laugh, a tired smile tugging at his lips. “That’s an understatement. I need more than just a drink. I need a long, hot shower and a whole week of rest.”

“Let’s get you in the shower then,” you said, taking his hand and guiding him toward the bathroom. He leaned on you for support, his body heavy with fatigue.

Once inside, he began to undress, letting his dirty clothes fall to the floor. The moment he stepped into the shower, the hot water cascaded over him, washing away the grime and sweat of the past month. He closed his eyes, letting out a contented sigh as the tension in his muscles began to ease.

“Here, let me help you,” you said, letting him sit on the tub while you perched on the edge, your hands gentle as you helped him wash. The warmth of the water and your touch was a balm to his weary soul. But just as he began to relax, you poured the soap and shampoo on his hair and skin, lathering it into thick bubbles while you massaged his torso.

As Price was about to doze off, a soft cry echoed from the nursery.

“Ah, bloody hell,” John muttered, frustration creeping into his voice. “I’ll finish up here, love. You go see to the little one.”

You nodded, giving him a quick kiss before stepping out to tend to the baby. John finished rinsing off, the water soothing his aching muscles, and once he was done, he wrapped a towel around his waist, took his comfy clothes from the rack, and made his way to the nursery.

There you were, gently covering your daughter with a soft blanket, finally getting her to sleep, her tiny features peaceful in slumber. “Look at her,” you said, glancing up at him with a smile. “She’s got your eyes.”

“Yeah, she’s a precious one,” John replied, his heart swelling with pride. He stepped closer, nuzzling against you, and slowly guided you both back to your bedroom, walking through the narrow halls of your small home, the warmth of your body mingling in the dim light of the room. Silence was comforting at the moment.

When you reached your bedroom's door frame, he placed a finger under your chin and leaned in to kiss you, a passionate deep kiss that he had longed to give you after all the missed time. As you both shared a tender moment, the heat of your reunion ignited a spark, and soon you found yourselves back in the bedroom, lips crashing together in a passionate kiss. The world outside faded away, and for a moment, it was just the two of you.

But just as things began to heat up, the door creaked open, and in walked your eldest son, rubbing his eyes. “Mum? Dad? I can’t sleep. It’s too dark.”

Price sighed, a mix of frustration and amusement washing over him. “Aye, come here, lad,” he said, scooping up his son and cradling him in his arms. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

As he carried the boy down the hall, he couldn’t help but be playful, making silly faces and telling ridiculous dad jokes that had the little one giggling. You stood at the doorframe, watching them with a smile, your heart full.

“Dad, what were you and Mum doing in the bedroom?” the boy asked innocently, his curiosity piqued.

John paused, caught off guard. “Uh, well, we were just… uh…”

“Were you kissing?” the boy asked, eyes wide with wonder.

“Yeah, we were,” John admitted, trying to keep a straight face. “But it’s just a way of showing we love each other.”

“Are you making another sibling for me?” he asked, referencing what he’d heard from his classmates about storks and babies.

Price chuckled, shaking his head. “Not quite, son. It doesn’t work like that. You see, babies come from a bit more than just kisses.” He took a deep breath, preparing to explain. “When two people love each other very much, they can decide to have a baby. It’s a special thing that happens when they’re ready.”

The boy’s eyes widened, processing the information. “So, you and Mum are just… practicing?”

John couldn’t help but laugh at the innocent interpretation. “Aye, something like that. But it’s not just about the kisses; it’s about love and care, too.”

“Okay,” the boy said, nodding seriously. “But I don’t want a baby yet. I have my little sister.”

“Fair enough, lad,” John replied, tucking him into bed. "We wouldn’t change that for the world.” He covered him with a blanket, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. “Now, get some sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

As he turned to leave, he glanced back at his son, who was already drifting off. With a smile, he walked back to the bedroom, where you were waiting, arms crossed and a playful smirk on your face.

“Did you manage to explain it without too much trouble?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

John shrugged, a grin spreading across his face. “Aye, I think he’ll be alright. Just a bit of a misunderstanding, that’s all.”

You laughed softly, stepping closer to him. “Well, now that we’ve settled that, how about we get back to what we were doing?”

Price’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he pulled you into his arms. “Aye, let’s not let a little one interrupt our time together again.”

With that, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, the world outside forgotten as you both melted into each other, ready to reclaim the moments you had lost. The kiss deepened, igniting a fire that had been smoldering during the long days apart. Price’s hands roamed your back, pulling you closer as if he could merge your souls into one. The warmth of the room enveloped you both, and for a moment, the weight of the world faded away.

“Ye know,” he murmured between kisses, “I could get used to this again. Just us, no interruptions.”

You smiled against his lips, feeling the tension of the past month slip away. “I think we deserve a little time to ourselves, don’t you?”

“Aye, we do,” he replied, his voice low and husky. He lifted you slightly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you back to the bed, the soft sheets welcoming you both.

As he laid you down, his gaze softened, and he brushed his thumb across your cheek. “I’ve missed this—missed you.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with affection. “And I’ve been waiting for you to come back, Johnny. It hasn’t been the same without you.”

He leaned down, capturing your lips again, pouring all the love and longing he had into that kiss. The world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the two of you, lost in each other’s embrace.

But just as you began to lose yourselves in the moment, a soft knock echoed from the door. John groaned, pulling away slightly, frustration flickering in his eyes. “What now?”

“Dad?” came the small voice from the other side. “I can’t sleep. I’m scared.”

Price sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll be right back, love,” he said, adjusting his pajama pants.

You watched him go, a smile creeping onto your face as he opened the door to find your son standing there, wide-eyed and clutching his blanket.

“Come here, lad,” Price said, kneeling down to his son’s level. “What’s got ye all worked up?”

“I don’t like the dark,” the boy admitted, his voice small.

John scooped him up, cradling him in his arms. “Well, ye don’t need to worry. I’ll stay with ye until ye fall asleep with that ...night lamp..How about that?”

The boy nodded, snuggling into his father’s shoulder. “Can you tell me a story?”

“Aye, I can do that,” John replied, carrying him back to his room. As he settled the boy into bed, he began to weave a tale of brave knights and daring adventures, his thick English accent bringing the story to life.

You leaned against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold with a smile. John was a natural storyteller, his voice animated as he painted vivid pictures with his words. The boy’s eyes sparkled with wonder, and soon enough, he was drifting off, lulled by his father’s soothing voice.

Once the boy was asleep, John tiptoed back to your room, a playful grin on his face. “Well, that was quick,” he said, closing the door behind him.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. “You’re a great dad, you know that?”

John chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Aye, I try. But it’s not always easy, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” you agreed, stepping closer to him. “But moments like these remind me of what truly matters.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “Family is everything, love. No matter how chaotic life gets, it’s these moments that make it all worthwhile.”

You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the weight of the world lift just a little. “And we have to cherish them, don’t we? Time is fleeting, and we never know what tomorrow will bring.”

“Aye,” he replied, holding you close. “We need to make the most of every moment we have together. That’s what family is all about.”

As you both stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realized that despite the challenges and uncertainties, the love you shared was a constant source of strength. In the quiet of the night, you understood that time spent together, no matter how small, was a treasure to be cherished.

With a renewed sense of purpose, you leaned in to kiss him, knowing that no matter what lay ahead, you would face it together as a family. And in that moment, you both understood that love, laughter, and the simple act of being together were the greatest gifts of all.

[sga-owns-my-soul]

just gonna make myself sad real quick by thinking of how bad rodney's guilt would've been if the solar system he blew up was inhabited with people

[tearfest]

sorry to log on n rant but i need to rant

[oncominggstorm]

My aunt decided a good way to wish me a happy birthday would be to text me a picture of me & my dead dad from my 22nd birthday.

Like yay thanks, I totally wanted to be sad and missing my dad on my birthday. I definitely wasn't trying to do the "out of sight out of mind don't think about sad things" thing to get through it without crying or anything 👍 Definitely wasn't already struggling missing not getting a happy birthday text from him 👍👍

[unnamed-atlas]

Having brain worms. What if uhhhhhh SOS Mianite au

[touchlikethesun]

.

[fingertipsmp3]

Dentist today. Crying screaming and throwing up

[bitchy-peachy]

"Viva la revolucion!" Yells leftist gringo that finds guns too "scawwy 😢" and thinks just being annoying and loud wins them anything other than apathy and annoyance.