#eh&bp

[toucansafari]

just binged all of blooming panic and drew my faves, nakedtoaster and xyx (is it any surprise that i like the pink megane?)

last doodle also features npcs from my own games

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! I am thinking about trying to get back in the habit of hitting the punching bag* more regularly, both because I used to love practicing martial arts and because I am hoping it will help turn slow tigers into fast tigers with this one neat trick** What music do you suggest to hit/kick a punching bag to? So far the best song I've found for it tempo-wise is "I Was Made For Loving You" by Kiss, because the drums/bass work really well to keep me from going too fast*** *once again I am confused about what verb to use for that. Kicking? Attacking? Practicing with???? **aka that one post about ending a physiological stress response by tricking your brain into thinking you'd defeated a short term stressor like a tiger ***because of the sodium Georg issues my heart likes to go fast and if I punch too much too fast it goes too fast and then I have to sit down and the metaphorical tigers win the fight lol

[oculusxcaro]

Hi everybody, sorry to have been so quiet lately! 2025 started off a little rough on this end but it's probably quite a bit rougher for some of you across the pond for reasons we all know and loathe already. Despite that, I hope life is treating you okay (or will start getting better soon - some of you have been through some really rough patches which none of you deserve and I wish things were better for you all 🙁) Just a smol life update about a little somebody I haven't mentioned for a while - R.orschach, my corn snake! It's been one whole year since he came home with me way back in 2024 as an itty bitty shoelace and he's uh, grown quite a bit since living it up in his lovely big vivarium?

Unfortunately it's the best photo of us since my health hasn't been the best these last few months (curse you winter!) but I'm determined not to let 2025 be a shitty year for writing like 2024 was! Making a spot of dinner really quick and then we'll see about tackling an ask or two. After not writing for a while, it's daunting af to even look at what's waiting but thank you all so much for your patience and love! Really hoping to get connected with you all again in spite of how awful the world state is rn. Keep holding on as best you can, people - nothing is forever and things will get better soon! <3

[screwzara]

@boiling-potato I see u 👁️👁️✨

Comic time 🤭

A comic from yours truly u_u✨

Full pic below ↓

[quibbs126]

I think it’d be funny if Abyss Monarch and Black Pearl were related. Like, Abyss Monarch is her emo child (or is going through an emo phase?)

[naaicha]

it seems like even post rigging scandal mnet survival show fans still expect the same kind of popularity and success that izone had (though even by produce standards i think izone members were exceptionally lucky).. you already have people talking about which farming group members will get picked up by big companies? it’s so optimistic for a group that hasn’t even debuted yet

[leadendeath]

yknow what bottomless pit is not a dg album i reach for often, i come back to my fav songs from it all the time but i don't usually enjoy it as a cohesive album to be listened to front-to-back like with gov. plates or notm. in fact i think more people would like gov plates if it was listened to as an entire experience in one sitting, but that's another gripspost for another time. but i just put on bb poison because i felt like it and like the flow on it, and found myself listening to the rest of bp... not an underrated album broadly i don't think, but it's underrated in here🧠 to ME it seems

[blondedingdong]

... WAIT... don't tell me the Fortnite season has changed already?? I thought there was a day left??? NOOOOOO MY 'free' VBONKS!

btw I'll get to asks today. hhhhhhhhh

[zepskies]

BREAKING POINT - Part 1

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Reader

Summary: Russell made you a promise, but “getting out” of government contract work is even more difficult than he thought it would be. Is he willing to put the past aside, or is this going to be your breaking point?

AN: Welcome back to the Every Second Counts-verse! After the cliffhanger in Bubbly, I know you guys have been wanting this next part of their story. Get ready for a rocky ride — in two parts! 😅 (Also thank you again for all the birthday wishes. You guys are the best. 🥹💜)

Special thanks to the lovely Michelle - @luci-in-trenchcoats - for giving me tons of Tracker spoilers from the books that helped me shape the idea for BP! Both Michelle and Wayne - @waynes-multiverse have been incredibly encouraging and supportive in this one. 💚

Song Inspo: “Come in From the Night” by Chicago

Posted on Patreon: 3/28/2025

Word Count: 6.8K

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, secrets and lies of omission, hints of Russell’s shady past, 2x02 events, and a twist…

⌖ Series Masterlist

Part 1: One Step Ahead of the Past

You paused in the middle of the grocery store aisle when you heard the thump. Yet another item dropped into the shopping cart.

You turned your head from the display of buy-one-get-one coffee brands and rose a brow at your boyfriend, trying not to smile.

“Uh, no. I don’t think so,” you said, grabbing the box of Zebra Cakes out of the cart.

“Aw, come on,” Russell implored.

“Babe, Dory and I call these cancer cakes. And you know what, for a guy who somehow keeps in like, Super Soldier-level shape, you’ve got a mega sweet tooth for all things junk,” you teased, and then smiled hard when he snaked an arm around your waist to try and distract you. You knew what he was really aiming for.

“Super soldier, huh?” A smirk curved his lips. “We talkin’ Captain America or Schwarzenegger?”

You laughed and tried to wiggle out of his grip. He had you trapped against the handles of the cart. He sneakily clawed a hand for the cartoonish black and white box of treats, but you held it just out of reach.

“If we have these in the house, you know I’m gonna eat them too, and it’s all just going to go straight to my ass, stomach, and thighs,” you quipped.

Russell hummed a kiss into your neck.

“I got no issue with that.” He squeezed your hips. “Just makes you softer to tenderize.”

A hot blush lit up your face, especially when an older lady gave you two some side-eye as she passed by with her cart. You bit your lip to temper your embarrassed smile, but you still reached back to pinch Russell’s side in retaliation. He just laughed and dodged your hand, ultimately wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

“It’s true,” he whispered lowly in your ear.

“Hmph, I’m sure,” you replied in amusement. 

Despite your better judgment, you tossed the Zebra Cakes back into the cart and kept it pushing, literally. Russell’s pleased grin had you almost rolling your eyes. Yes, he knew how to play you like a fiddle.

You grabbed a couple packages of Gevalia coffee and continued down the aisle, but you didn’t realize that your shadow had disappeared. Russell caught up to you after a little while, withdrawing a peach cobbler from behind his back. It was from the bakery section. Another goddamn dessert?! And how’d he get over there and back so fast?

“I know I might be pushing my luck, but what about this guy for tonight?” he asked. “At least it’s homemade, right?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, homemade. Right from the factory that delivered it to the grocery store.”

But you sighed and relented on that one too, waving a dismissive hand. Eh, it’s on sale. Pick your battles, I guess.

Russell took that as consent to place the cobbler carefully next to the carrots, broccoli, and asparagus. He was slightly mollified by the bag of potatoes.

“That’s a lot of rabbit food,” he remarked.

“Oh yeah, and it’s gonna go great with the steaks tonight,” you sweetly replied. You knew the only way you were going to get him to eat said broccoli was if he had a slab of meat to go with it. Again, pick your battles. Your man was many things, but health-conscious wasn’t exactly one of them. It surprised you, considering he’d spent most of his life in the military.

“Heeeeell, yeah. With the special sauce, right?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, with the special sauce,” you smirked.

And no, that wasn’t a euphemism.

Russell smiled, that one that crinkled the crow’s feet around his eyes. His hand fell to a comfortable place on the small of your back as he fell into step with you. It was his habit whenever you two went out together—a familiar hand on your hip, your waist, or brushing your hair back to massage the back of your neck. You liked the contact; the reminder that he was with you, and that he wanted to be.

But his touch fell away after you entered the cereal aisle. You did hear a short buzz, but you didn’t notice until you were almost at the end, halfway through asking if he wanted oatmeal or Fruit Loops. When you realized you were talking to empty air, you looked over your shoulder and saw Russell stopped in the middle of the aisle, staring down at his phone with knitted brows.

His attention was wholly on the screen, where a brief message held more weight than it should.

Are you in?

Russell kept digesting the words.  

“Russ?” you called to him, breaking him out of his reverie. “What’re you doing?”

Shit. He typed out a reply, and he sent it before he could think better of it. He pocketed his phone and caught up to you in a few of his long strides, his long hair bouncing along with him. His hand slipped around your waist and found purchase on a belt loop of your jeans. 

“So with our soon-to-be three course meal, what’cha thinking on a movie? Wanna watch Terminator again?” he proposed.

You rose a brow at three courses, but you skipped ahead to pushing back on said proposal. 

“God, no. We watched all six movies last weekend!” 

“Aw, come on, get to the choppah!” Russell invoked his best Arnold impression, prodding at your waist all the while. Never mind that the line was from Predator, not Terminator.

You flinched, and a giggle bubbled up in you on reflex as you swatted at his hand. You pushed the cart onward to the checkout counter. 

“All right, just the first one though,” you replied. “Then I want to watch Bridesmaids.”

He playfully groaned. “Gonna make me sit through another chick flick, huh?”

“Oh no. It’s hilarious,” you said with a snicker. “Though maybe it is better if we watch that one after dinner. There’s a scene with food poisoning from some sketchy-ass meat and…yeah. Anyway, you’ll like it, baby. I promise.”

Russell gave you an indulgent smile, but inside, he hid a guilty twinge. 

“What was your favorite thing to eat growing up?” you asked.

Russell was helping you unpack the groceries in the kitchen in a familiar routine. He’d been living with you for almost a year now, and still, little questions like this sometimes helped you get a window into the man.

Key word being sometimes, because even now, he considered your question with more uncertainty than it should warrant.

"You mean, uh, on the compound?" he asked.

"Sure." You'd take any brief spotlight into his childhood.

“Uh…kind of hard to answer that one. We mostly ate whatever wild game we could catch,” he admitted. “A lot of rabbit. Which honestly wasn’t my favorite, but I learned to like it.”

He soon abandoned that thought to take out the peach cobbler from a grocery bag with a devilish cackle. You knew by the boyish look on his face that he’d be cutting at least two generous slices out of that one later.

“Maybe that explains why you’re such a foodie,” you wondered aloud. Because your man didn’t just like food. He was borderline obsessed with trying new spots with you, whether it was an upscale restaurant on the bougiest part of downtown, or a sketchy taco truck on the side of the freeway.

“Could be,” he acknowledged with a chuckle.

“What was it like having to hunt for your own food?” you asked. You’d studied history and ancient civilizations for both of your doctoral degrees, let alone your experience as a professor at Wyoming University, but studying hunter-gatherer communities was much different from having to learn how to survive for your next meal.

Russell set down the cobbler on the counter. He took advantage of the task of grabbing the vegetables next, handing them off to you so you could sort them the way you liked in the refrigerator.

“Wasn’t easy,” he said, “My dad was a taskmaster. And that wasn’t just about skinning rabbits and squirrels.”

You grimaced. “Squirrels too?!”

Russell nodded.

“We had these milestones…” he trailed, as the memory reappeared in his mind. “Heh. I remember being woken up and dragged out of bed in the middle of the night. Dad had me scale a cliff in almost pitch blackness. Couldn’t see the ground below me, could barely see a few inches above me. Was the day I turned thirteen years old.”

You paused what you were doing to meet his gaze. Jesus. Happy fucking Birthday, you thought, both in sarcasm and incredulous dismay.

Russell sighed and shook his head. He continued balling up empty grocery bags.

“That. That look right there,” he said, pointing at your face. “That’s why I don’t talk about this shit.”

You quickly recovered yourself and shut the fridge.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” You turned to him and laid a hand on his forearm, sliding down to slip your hand into his. “I’ve given you the deep cuts, right? And my brother has no problem spilling all about my awkward teenage angst, and basically every embarrassing thing I’ve ever done since I was two. But with you, there’s still so much I don’t know, Russ. Not just about how you grew up, but about your life since then.”

Russell brushed his thumb over the back of your hand, but all he could really give you was a quirk of his lips.

“That’s classified,” he said, only somewhat joking.

“Look, I get that. I know there’s a lot you can’t tell me,” you said, “but give me the broad strokes, okay? Besides Doug, who have been the important people in your life? Where were you stationed? How many countries have you seen?”

Russell let out a deep breath. None of your questions had easy answers. He knew he needed to give you something, even if it was just broad strokes. But…he just couldn’t bring himself to look back anymore. There was too much tied to things he couldn’t, shouldn’t tell you. Mostly it was for your own safety, but selfishly, there were also things he didn’t want to let loose. If he did, maybe it would change the way you looked at him with those soft, loving eyes. 

“Look, maybe that’s not something we should get into tonight,” he said. 

 Your expression shifted into disappointment. You seemed to be making that face a lot lately, whenever he told you about another job out of town, whenever he didn't come home when he initially said he would, whenever he closed up on you.

But this time, you closed up on him.

“You know what, it’s been a long day. I think I’m feeling too tired to cook,” you said. You tossed the wad of empty grocery bags under the kitchen sink and passed by him on your way out of the room, and over to the bedroom.

Russell blinked in confusion. 

“Well, wait, what’re we gonna eat then?” he called after you.

“I don’t know. Make yourself a sandwich,” you said, just before he heard the door shut.

The loud thud made him sigh through his nose. He surveyed the ingredients you’d intended to cook with strewn across the kitchen counter and rubbed a hand over his bearded face. 

“Shoulda saved that conversation for after dinner,” he mused.

You and Russell were still at odds as you got ready for bed that night. After what happened in the kitchen, you cooled off for a bit. You did end up making the steaks and watching Terminator with him, but afterward, you went back to the bedroom to read by yourself, leaving him to watch old reruns of Seinfeld on TBS.

It was never really the same without you and your colorful commentary, or the way you often burrowed into his side and commandeered most of the couch. (He didn’t mind, long as he got to cop a feel every now and then.)

He could read you all too well though. He knew you were still mad at him.

He now eyed you in your silky negligée, which he thought you’d worn to bed on purpose just to torture him a little. It was the pretty purple one with lacy edges. He bought it for you while you two were on vacation in California a few months ago. 

Russell’s phone buzzing on his nightstand distracted him. He checked it before you had a chance to see what was on the screen. It was from his handler at Horizon, detailing a string of coordinates for his next gig—plus a ticket for his flight taking off in two days. Russell planned to tell you tomorrow after you cooled off a little more, though he knew it wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. 

He tried slipping into bed behind you and wrapping his arm around your waist, kissing your bare shoulder. He nosed past the thin strap of your nightgown and inhaled the pretty, floral scent of your soap…which he totally didn’t use himself.

“Nuh-uh,” you warned without even looking at him. It was a firm no on the touching, to which Russell exhaled and leaned back on his pillow, carding a hand through his hair. 

“Come on, baby. How long’re you gonna ice me out?”

“Until I actually know the man who’s in bed with me,” you snipped back testily.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Russell said. He drew back in and kissed the side of your head, rubbing a hand down your shoulder. “You already know the important bits.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” you dryly replied. It was a struggle not to give into his touch, but this wasn’t the first time you two had a conversation, verging on argument about these things.  

He knew it all too well.

Still, he hesitated. Like what? How I’ve spent a long time doing what I’m told, and not a lot of asking questions. Probably not as much as I should’ve.

He shook his head. “I’m not gonna lie, I’ve seen a lot of shit that would blow your hair back. But even though my growing up was…unconventional, to say the least, it’s made me good at what I do. Most importantly though…” He pressed another gentle, lingering kiss into your neck. “This is where I want to be. You’re the one I wanna move forward with.”

He felt you take a long breath. He hoped it meant that you were hearing him, that you were softening.

“How are you going to do that when you’re away on another job?” you asked. 

Russell paused. 

You moved away from his hold and sat up in bed. He followed suit as he noted the look on your face, tired and upset. His brows furrowed, despite the prickle of guilt bubbling under his skin.

“What’re you talking about?” he said.

“Don’t even try it. I saw the coordinates pop up on your phone just now!” you snapped, and you make a sound of frustration, rubbing your face with both hands. “You promised me, Russell. You promised you’d be done with contract work months ago now. So what is it? Is it that you need more money for your brewery?”

Russell swallowed. The truth was, he’d made the target goal on his business account months ago, but he’d also found one reason or another to accept the last few jobs out of town. There was pressure from Horizon to stay on. They didn’t want to lose a valuable “contractor,” after all. But it was also his own unwillingness to give up the feeling of knowing exactly what he was doing, what he had been trained to do, and secretly, the way his work kept him on the edge. 

That flip in the stomach that forced him to make decisions in the breadth of a second? 

Well, it was a hard feeling to give up, and an even harder life.  

He rubbed a hand over his face with a tired sigh.

“Look, it’s more complicated than that,” he said. 

“You know what, I don’t think it is,” you shot back. “I think you’re a lot like Charlie, except this—this kind of work is your fix.”

The accusation stung like a hot iron poker. Russell opened his mouth to sling back a retort, even though he knew your aim was deadly when you wanted it to be.

You just turned away from him and shut off the light. 

In the morning, Russell woke to your side of the bed being cold and empty. It made him feel hollow, shitty, after the events of last night reared back up in his mind. 

He lied there between the sheets and listened. He could hear your familiar movements in the kitchen. Letting out a deep breath, he forced himself out of bed. 

After brushing his teeth and raking a hand through his messy bedhead, he cautiously approached the kitchen. Russell lingered in the doorway just outside of view. He found himself watching you putter around in your little nightgown, fuzzy slippers, and frizzy hair. Your fingers got tangled in it while your free hand grabbed the eggs from the fridge, your hip propping the door open. 

You’d made a pot of coffee and even set out his mug for him, as was your habit. Your own mug laid half-empty on the counter. His mug was somewhat special, though not just because it currently had a spoon resting inside it, ready for his sugar and cream.

You bought it for him last time you blew half your paycheck at Marshals; a home goods store he could rarely drag you out of within an hour. That mug featured all the major condiments, including sriracha, which was what made you think of him. It matched the sweatpants you found for him, covered in cartoony fries and burgers. 

They might’ve been silly gifts, but he liked that. He liked that you thought of him in the little things that somehow added up into the big things. They reminded him that you’d given him a chance. You’d given him home cooked meals, and let him make you a few too. You’d watched virtually every popular ‘90s movie that had ever been made with him—or at least, every one you thought he’d might like. You had a list of the 2000s to tackle next. 

You were an encouraging sounding board for him, whether it was talking about what he’d serve on the menu of his future brewery, brainstorming names, or even looking up what paperwork he would need to get started. You’d also been helping him navigate his relationship with Dory, and your brother Charlie, and even Colter, whenever Russell’s still admittedly distant relationship with his brother came up.

Russell washed your car and took out the trash and washed the dishes whenever you cooked, but standing here right now, it finally clicked just how much you actually did for him. How much you cared, and put your actions behind the caring part. You’d given him a place to come home to after decades in service, and years more on the road.

Hell, you were his home. You and his sister.

But now, he realized why you were so upset. You thought he had one foot off of the firm foundation you were trying to build with him. You thought he wasn’t wanting to fully commit here, to you, and to the things he claimed he wanted. You were struggling to understand him.

So Russell entered the kitchen officially, padding in on sock-covered feet until he could slip his arms around you from behind. You stiffened in his grasp and turned to look at him over your shoulder. 

“Russ,” you warned, but he shook his head. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “You were right.”

You paused, allowing the fridge to close. Slowly you turned in his arms. You bit your lower lip and granted him a dubious gaze. Still, he counted it as a win when you tentatively held him back, slipping your hands over his biceps for stability. 

“About what?” you rose a brow in challenge.

“I’m gonna start shopping around for real estate here in Laramie, but first, I’m gonna start making moves on the business proposal for the brewery. Would you mind looking it over for me?” he asked. 

Your head tilted as you considered what he was saying, as well as what he wasn’t saying.

“But aren’t you…leaving?” 

“I’m not taking that job,” Russell said. “I’m calling Horizon today, tell ‘em I’m retiring. For good this time.”

It took a while, but his words seeped into your mind and settled there on the ocean floor. Tears began to sting in your eyes, but you nodded and reached up on your toes for a sweet, lingering kiss. You stroked his cheeks and slipped your fingers through his hair when you hugged him. He held you back just as tightly. 

He knew he hadn’t given you everything you asked for, but this felt like a good start.

Russell expected the call at some point, but half an hour was a new record. It was a Saturday, and he made sure you were busy in the laundry room before he took the call in your brother’s old room—AKA: Russell’s office. 

Charlie had been out of rehab for a few months now, rooming with Manny, one of his old unit buddies. Your brother agreed to leave the family house to you though, since you’d always been the stable one who could actually take care of the mortgage and the general upkeep of the house. Russell joined Charlie and his friends for beers every so often, either at Charlie’s apartment, or a new bar close to downtown. 

They traded stories and friendly fire at one another, Russell from his side of the branch in Special Ops, to Charlie and his friends in the Air Force. Dave and Manny could be especially loud-mouthed when tequila was involved, but Russell welcomed the good-natured ribbing with a few good pot shots of his own (he was still a little proud of “glorified flight attendants”).  

Now though, Russell held the phone to his ear and greeted the man on the other line.

“Hey, man. What’s up?” 

“What’s up?” Adam intoned. “‘What’s up’ is that you’re leaving us high and dry, Russ. What’s that about?” 

“Look, you know this was never a permanent gig for me,” Russell replied, speaking quietly just in case you were close by. “It’s high time I took a break, settled down, you know?”

Adam snorted. “You don’t have a civilian fucking bone in your body, Russell.”

“Well, that’s nice. I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“Look, you’re the best man I ever worked with. The best CO I ever had. You pulled my ass outta the fire more times than I’d care to admit,” Adam said, “but you remember that last tour?”

Russell sobered. “You know I do.”

“And you remember what I had to do to get us out of that mess. Out of Nicaragua.”

Not like you’d ever let me forget it, Russell thought. Though it was nothing he didn’t see behind his eyes when he went to sleep.

“But when I got this gig, and they asked me who I’d recruit, you’re the first guy I thought of,” Adam said. “Well, you and Dougie. He fucking quit on me too.” 

Russell was happy for Doug. He and his wife just had their first baby a few months ago. One chunky little boy. 

“Look,” Russell said. “I’m grateful for…everything, you know that. But this is just something I gotta do. I’ve got other responsibilities now.”

“Yeah. How is your girl, huh? Been wanting to grab a beer with you, maybe get to finally meet her.”

Russell’s lips twitched. He didn’t talk about you as a rule, not to anyone in Horizon. Aside from Doug, Adam was the only one on the payroll who knew Russell’s real name, let alone about you. This was supposed to be a secure line though. 

“She’s waiting on me, Adam. Can’t keep doin’ that to her,” Russell replied. 

After a while, Adam sighed. 

“All right, Russ. I hear ya. I’m fucked, but I hear ya.”

“You’ll be fine,” Russell smirked. “You’ll find someone young and fresh off the meat market.”

Adam scoffed. “Right. These kids. Half of ‘em anxiety ridden pussies or juvie fucking flunkies. Can’t hack even half the shit we went through in basic, let alone eight months in Baghdad.”

That led into familiar territory. Russell shot the shit with his old friend for a few more minutes before he finally let Adam go. The phone hung from Russell’s hand after, and he expelled a sigh. He felt a twinge of regret, like he was letting go of hell of a lot more. 

After he left home and enlisted, it didn’t just become his life. It became who he was. Both his body and his mind were shaped by the structure of the chain of command, the mission, the follow-through. Muscle-memory.

Putting that aside had been harder than he imagined. After all, what the hell was he, if not a soldier?

Russell wrestled with that question longer than he cared to admit. It even had him getting up from his desk to consult a glass of bourbon he kept on the bookshelf. 

…It’s for the best, he reasoned. 

Even now, Russell didn’t get to see his little sister as often as he liked. Their work kept them moving in different directions, her busy teaching schedule not often gelling well with his more unpredictable one. But today, a Tuesday, he was taking her to lunch between classes.

She stopped short in the doorway of her office.

“Oh! Damn, I forgot…”

She meant to invite you too, but when she took her cell phone out to call you and see if you were busy, Russell laid a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay, she already knows I’m here,” he said. “But you and I are long overdue for some brother-sister time.”

Dory hesitated, but at his grin, she smiled back brightly and put her phone away. “Okay, then. Where do you want to go?”

He took her to a nearby café you told him about. It was one you and Dory frequented at least once a week, either for coffee and pastries, or for a nice protein bowl.

“Why is everything a damn bowl nowadays? They’re all just trying to be Chipotle,” Russell groused, but he ate his bowl of wild rice, steak, and arugula salad with just as much gusto as a carton of Chinese fried rice. He polished it off with a beer and tried to stifle his belch.

Dory rose a brow, but after a beat, she couldn’t hold in a laugh.

“Well, doesn’t seem to bother you that much,” she remarked. Her amusement slid into a teasing smirk. “Matter of fact, looks like you've been eating well since you started shacking up with my best friend.” 

Russell grinned around the lip of his beer. "What're you tryin' to say, D? You fat-shaming me right now?"

"Aw, I wouldn't go that far," she laughed. "You just look like you're settling in to this civillian thing."

Russell smirked. He couldn't argue with her. According to you, he was in super soldier shape. Still, he knew you were being a little too generous. He had softened around the pouch a little since he’d stopped moving around from motel to motel, no time to get comfortable, as he was now. His hard work was also looking different these days—sitting at his desk or on the couch with his laptop. He wasn't a complete sloth though; he still worked out on the regular.

“Gotta admit, she keeps me well-fed,” he said. Though there was no mistaking the glint in his eye, or the waggling of his brows. Dory snorted and shook her head. 

“Please, I don’t wanna hear about any of that. It’s bad enough I had to endure the beginning stages when you two couldn’t be in a room together without eye-fucking each other. Or sneaking off into a public restroom at our work Christmas party—to actually fuck each other.”

Russell spluttered a laugh into his beer, making a slosh of amber liquid run down his shirt. Dory smirked and handed him an extra napkin. He coughed and blotted out most of the stain himself, but gave her an accusatory look through his amusement. 

“You guys seem to be doing well though,” Dory said, her eyes softening along with her smile. “She told me that you finally quit Horizon.”

He rose a brow and set down the empty beer. “Finally?”

“Well, sorry, but she’s not the only one who worries about you, you know?” Dory grabbed her brother’s hand. “It’s been good to have you around this past year, getting to know you again. It feels like having a bit of home back.”

Russell smiled ruefully, squeezing her hand.

“Thought you didn’t like to think about all that.”

“It wasn’t all bad,” she admitted. Her head tilted in thought. “I remember, you used to sing to me whenever I couldn’t fall asleep.”

His mouth twitched, his eyes softening.

“Couldn’t blame you. That place made some weird-ass sounds at night,” he replied, though he sighed deeply through his nose. “You were just a kid.”

“So were you, Russ,” Dory reminded him. 

He held her gaze for as long as he could stand. Eventually, he lowered his eyes. He released her hand and went back to polishing off the flourless chocolate cake she’d ordered for dessert. 

“That night…you really recognized the man Dad was talking to?” Dory asked after a while.

Russell was a little surprised she was bringing that up, but he nodded slowly. 

“I did, but hell. That was twenty years ago.”

She bit her lip. “I still can’t believe Colter thought you…”

“That’s in the past too,” Russell said, his tone even more dismissive.

Hmm. Protesting a little too much, Dory thought.

“Did you ever tell her?” she asked.

They both knew who she meant. You.

“She knows the main bits, but you’re asking if I told her how our brother thought I killed Dad?” Russell scoffed. “No. Didn’t think that little footnote would go over well.”

Dory stared back at him with concern in her blue eyes. She didn’t like keeping things from you, even if it wasn’t her secret to tell. Unfortunately, her family had a lot of secrets.  

“It’s not worth getting into, D,” Russell said. “That, or any of it…though I don’t know. I don’t think Colter’s ready to let it go. He believes me now, but he wants to know who got to Dad, and why. He’s tenacious, I’ll give him that.”

Unlike Colter, it seemed, Russell had an image of his father that had lasted in his mind. It wasn’t a good one. 

Paranoid son of a bitch. 

Russell couldn’t really blame Colter though. He was young when they were taken to the compound. He probably didn’t remember his friends, the house, the way they lived before. 

Russell had been ten years old. He remembered being on the baseball team doing well as a pitcher, and having to lie to his coach and quit the team. Russell remembered saying goodbye to his best friend, Randy, who he never saw again. Russell remembered having to lock up his tears and help his mom take care of his younger siblings, and make sure they were settling into a musty old cabin in the middle of the woods. 

“I’ve tried looking into it before,” he admitted.

Dory’s brows raised. “When?” 

He waved a dismissive hand. “A long time ago, when I had government access to some things. Got a whole lot of nadda.”

“No good is going to come of it, and I told Colter the same thing,” Dory said, shaking her head. “Whatever happened, it’s better if we all just move on.”

She continued eating. After a beat of hesitation, Russell followed suit.  

A couple of weeks later, Russell felt like he’d made good progress. He narrowed down his search to three different spots in downtown that were up for leasing, though one of them was a bit too close to Howley’s for your comfort, which meant he really had two options. Both were walkable, but one had more parking availability, while the other was a better price for the amount of interior square footage. It was a lot to consider.

You’d given him the number of a good commercial realtor you knew, thanks to your boss, Dr. Goldstein. Looked like that stuffed suit was good for something, other than piling his work onto your plate so he could get his monthly back wax. 

You were still at work on a Thursday when Russell’s phone rang. He quirked a brow at the caller ID, but a grin tugged at his lips when he answered. 

“Well hey there, Ms. Greene.”

“Russell, where are you right now?”

“Chillin’ at home. Working through some stuff on my new business venture. Though if the next question’s ‘What am I wearing,’ I gotta remind you that I’m happily off the market,” he teased.

“And thank God for that,” Reenie dryly remarked. “Listen, I need your help. Actually, I think Colter needs you.”  

He detected the urgency in her voice now, and he sobered. 

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but I need you to find him. He’s been missing for over 24 hours.”

“Looks like I’m gonna be a little late for dinner,” Russell told you over the phone. "Uh, okay, maybe a lot late."

“What? It’s kind of hard to hear you. Do you have the top down on the Chevelle?”

“She’s a Chevelle Malibu, baby. Well, technically, Malibu for short—”

“Russell, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing to worry about. Reenie called, and it looks like Colter might be in a hard spot. I just need to go help him out,” he replied. Really, he was fighting his worry as he pressed his foot a bit harder on the gas. The sleek Chevy flew down the highway at a speed that would make you hit his arm, if you were here. 

“Why does it sound like you’re giving me the kitty gloves version?” you asked him in suspicion. 

Russell smiled ruefully. This was why he loved you—for your mind. 

“Again, nothing to worry about. I’ll be home by the morning…probably.”

He heard your heavy sigh. 

“Okay, Russ. Just be careful, please.”

“Hey, you know me. I’m always careful.”

“Right,” you snorted. 

The curve of his lips kicked up into a grin. “I gotta let you go, but I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, okay…I love you.” 

His face softened a fraction. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

You hung up with your boyfriend and slipped your phone back in your purse. An undercurrent of worry churned in your stomach. You knew Russell was downplaying whatever was really going on. Reenie wouldn’t call him for help unless Colter was really in trouble, or else why wouldn’t she call the police? 

That rewardist work that Colter did, it had led him into some shady shit, according to Dory, like insidious cults, serial killers, and corrupt politicians. She talked to Colter now more than she used to, but even then, she knew he wasn’t giving her the whole story about most of his adventures. 

Must be a Shaw family trait, you thought sourly. 

With Dory on your mind, you decided to call her up and make tonight a girls’ night. You hung out at her apartment after work, splitting a bottle of wine and several orders of Mexican takeout while watching reruns of New Girl. 

“Where do you think they are right now?” Dory asked, for a moment sobering from laughing at Jess’s antics. 

You had your glass of wine poised to your lips in thought. “I don’t know, but I do know Russ wasn’t telling me the whole truth. I think Colter’s in trouble.”

Dory worried her lip. It clearly didn’t sit well with her that both of her brothers were MIA right now. You tried calling Russell earlier for a check-in, but his phone went straight to voicemail. Colter’s number didn’t even ring. It was just a dial tone, with a disembodied voice saying this number has been disconnected.

But there was nothing you two could do. Reenie had advised you to sit tight and wait for one of them to check in. 

“You know, I may not understand them sometimes, but it makes sense to me why they are the way they are,” she said. “They had it worse than me growing up, either because I was the youngest or because I was the only girl.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, though you had a feeling you knew where she was going with this. 

“I remember, Dad used to make them sleep outside sometimes. Somewhere in the middle of the damn woods, without supplies, without food,” Dory said. She actually began to tear up, her blue eyes turning pale and glassy. “I heard him and my mom arguing about it once. Finally he agreed to go out there and watch out for them—from a distance though, so they wouldn’t know he was there.”

You stared back at her in dismay. That hurt your heart so fucking deep. No wonder Russ didn’t want to open up about this shit. How can I blame him? How can a father…

You shook your head, resting a hand on her arm. 

“But why? Why did your dad do all this? Russell said he was paranoid, but…what was he running from?” you asked.

“We don’t know,” Dory admitted. After a moment, she looked over at you and held your gaze. “All that we did know, was that his death wasn’t an accident.”

That revelation shocked you. Your mouth parted, though no words escaped. 

Dory set down her wine and got up from the couch. Then, with a certain decision weighing in her eyes, she went over to her room. 

“D?” you questioned. “You’re just gonna drop a fucking bomb like that on me and walk away?!”

Not getting an answer, you rose to follow her, where you watched in bewilderment as she dug into the recesses of her closet until she found a plain white shoebox. It was just some old cardboard, frayed at the corners, but Dory hesitated to even open it. 

“What are you doing? What is that?” you asked.

“A few years back, a family friend gave this to me. Apparently it has some of my dad’s old stuff,” she said. “I’ve never wanted to go digging through it because I wanted to leave the past behind me. I think it’s been easier for me to say that, but not so easy for Colter and Russell.”

After a beat of hesitation, she handed the box over to you. 

“Would you give this to Russell when he gets back?” she asked. “He can do whatever he wants with it. Look inside, try to piece together what happened, or just burn it all. Either way, I’m done. As far as I’m concerned, my dad wasn’t really my dad after he took us to live in that place. And my mom…” She laughed humorlessly. “She was no saint either. She went along with everything my father did.”

You took the box from her with some concern. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Honestly, I don’t even like having it here. It’s just a…bad reminder.”

You rubbed a hand over her arm in comfort. "You guys never went to the police?"

Dory shook her head. "Mom didn't trust anyone, least of all the police. She probably thought it was safer for us."

"God, I'm sorry," you said. After a beat, you set down the box and pulled Dory into a hug. She rested her chin on your shoulder and squeezed her eyes tight for a second.

"It's okay," she said. "...It's in the past." 

Sure, you thought. But there were some scars that didn't fade, no matter how much you ignored them, banaged them, or tried to soothe them.

You took the box and left her apartment shortly after. She offered to let you stay the night so you wouldn’t be alone, but you declined. Russell installed a state-of-the-art security system in your house, making it feel like the safest place in the world to you. That was where you’d be able to sleep tonight, even with this mysterious old shoebox.  

The drive back was devoid of traffic this late at night, but after what happened with Eddie Mendez last year, you always felt uneasy driving alone at night. A good part of you was also still trying to digest all of this.

On one hand, you could understand Colter and Russell wanting to know what happened to their father. If Ashton was murdered, the reason could explain everything they went through growing up. 

With all of these thoughts rattling through your mind, you couldn’t even be completely relieved when you pulled into the driveway of your home. You walked into the house quickly, shut the door, and input the code to lock everything behind you.

Holding your purse on one shoulder and the box under your other arm, your first instinct was to find a good hiding place for it. You began to wonder if you should’ve accepted it from Dory at all. If her father’s death was no accident, then what was he killed for?

But…Dory had this thing in her closet for all this time without incident. Surely there was nothing diabolical about it. Ashton Shaw had been a professor too, right? It probably just held some keepsakes, a few old essays, some paperclips and 20-year-old dust bunnies…

You found a place in the house that a burglar would be unlikely to look for something valuable (again, really, what kind of burglar would want to steal a shoebox of old junk?), and you took a deep, calming breath in the middle of your living room. 

You still hadn’t been able to get in touch with Russell. All your texts had been going unanswered. You grabbed your phone and began to find Reenie in your contacts, but you paused. You were reminded of something you forgot to do when you walked in the door. 

Along with the coded door lock, there was an app on your phone where you could monitor the cameras strategically placed outside the house. However, when you checked the app, you realized that the camera feed said Unavailable. For every single camera. 

Your brows furrowed. That’s weird… 

Seconds later, the first bullet broke through your impact windows. 

AN: 🫣 Oh sorry, did I not mention there was a cliffhanger? You can rant and scream in the comments, it's totally fine. 😂

As you can see, we're in the middle of 2x02, with my own twist on some things around it. Plus some material from the books making it into this part - and more heavily implied in the next part - coming next Sunday!

Next Time:

While the phone rang, tucked between your shoulder and your ear, you were forced to set down the gun. With trembling hands, you quietly rifled through your medicine cabinet for gauze or an ace bandage. Fuck, yes! Okay. This could work. You found the big square bandages that stick on. Russell bought them the last time he came home with a couple of nasty abrasions from a job.

Still, the phone rang.

Come on, come on, come oooon!

“Hello?” The lawyer’s voice was smooth and retaining a note of exasperation.

“Reenie! Where’s Russell?” you whisper-hissed.

“I have him right here. What’s wrong?” she asked. Immediately, her tone shifted to concern. You’d never met Reenie in person, but you knew she worked with Colter and, according to Russell, was damn good at what she did. 

You didn’t give a shit about any of that right now.

“Put him on the phone, please!” 

In a few seconds of shuffling, you finally, finally heard his voice. 

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

A breath of relief escaped you in a rush.

“Russell,” you sobbed.

⌖ Keep Reading: PART 2

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[shyshiny]

WAIT, Astro and Ivo WERE Shrike's children? I only suspected Cass, I was surprised that in reality, all 3 of them are XD

If you say that to Diva/Divine, he'll most likely react like that if he doesn't start saying that, because he's a divinity, he shouldn't be so attached to a mortal as to do that (he's an idiot, leave him):

Ni modo a hacer zikzak en esto lmfao Since you mentioned Ivo, Astro and Cass, in their perspective WHAT WOULD YOU THINK of Divine/Diva? Something in her appearance (clothes, hairstyle, etc.) would catch their attention? Opinion of when, on many occasions, her body deforms making her more intimidating just to scare or impose on others (similar to my last edit but the blood thing is a matter of what situation they are in, although the fact that any of them see the guard soaked in blood at some point is high)? Or what would they say about Diva's personality, being so stoic and heartlessly apathetic when it comes to killing (although that doesn't mean he is polite to them)? (although I'd also like to ask YOU what caught your attention about Diva, just out of curiosity XD)

Also (and this, if you want, you can add to your twin duo, Lita and Luz to answer this), I wonder, any opinion of them if they run into Lariat (from my AU, with her nicknames and all that)? Or what would they say about Shrike being APPARENTLY declared dead, when he's been missing for quite some time (and his body hasn't even been found) and that Jaw and Kara are missing too?

Eso es todo,chau

OOOHONHOHOHO HELLO I WILL GLADY ANSWER THIS

ok first off for astro. since he didn’t get along with one of his dads (that being shrike) he would probably still be cautious and rude to divine especially since he’s a lot more intense now. Big brother moments would kick in and he would try to protect his little sisters from him (one wrong move from divine and he’s getting thrown into outer space).

now for cass, she wouldn’t be that cautious about him (given how she’s acts just like her dad). she wouldn’t poke fun at him and be like “ha look at this emo loser. bro thinks he’s him!!!” and of course she doesn’t know that’s actually shrike because she’s too stupid to notice.

finally for ivo, she’s 100% sure that’s her dad so she would be really confused about why he’s all grey and moody. She’d still cling onto him and would try to play with him like she usually does with shrike.

all three of them would be really confused about his personality since they’re so used to the “annoying, fun, and somehow caring shrike” than the “moody, cold-hearted grey shrike”.

and for me idk what got me into this au tbh. I just saw it and im like “hey, this seems pretty cool and interesting. I like it now and it’s my new favorite au.” ^_^

and for the yin yang twins to run into lariat, they would try and help her with her theory of shrike being missing and not dead. They also wouldn’t believe shrike being dead because even though he’s stupid they both know he could fall of a cliff and survive. but for kara and jb specifically they wouldn’t really say anything cus they didn’t know the two of them personally (they weren’t that close)…

[asce-of-hearts]

If you're taking requests could I please ask for a scenario where Bloody Painter is with a darling that has abandonment issues even after being kidnapped and are willing to do as he says as long as he doesn't hurt them

Sorry if this is too detailed or this sounds weird if you're not taking requests that's okay feel free to ignore this one and thank you

Dependent

Contents: Yandere!Bloody Painter scenario in which gn!darling has abandonement issues.

more BP content here!!

TAG LIST

WARNINGS: YANDERE, OBSESSIVE AND POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, CO-DEPENDENCY, UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP DYNAMICS, MENTIONS OF BLOOD, HELEN USES READERS BLOOD AS PAINT.

"You're good at this." His voice is even, monotone, little to no variation. His eyes flicker between his canvas and your naked form, sitting pretty over the torn and washed out vanity sofa.

"Thank you," you whisper. "I try to be."

He smirks, almost amused. His eyes roam all over your figure, both sexual and analytical. His mind calculating light positions and colors to mix every time he catches a new detail. He goes over to his palette, his face turning into a frown as he realizes he has ran out of red.

"Stay still." He growls, standing up. The navy blue, button down shirt he's wearing is escaping his belt where it was previously neatly tucked. He crouches down next to you, and as best as he can without disturbing your position he exposes part of your thigh. "It'll be worse if you try to run... but you already know that." He says with disinterest, the edge of his blade gently tracing over your skin, cutting it open as if it was butter under a hot knife.

"Stings." You whimper, he can feel your thigh muscles contracting under his tough, his fingers digging deeper into your skin, ushering more blood to flow out of the open wound.

"I know." He murmurs, he collects the red droplets that run over your skin. He waits until the bleeding ceases, only a couple of minutes before your body stops the flow. Softly, he uses a damp cloth that is already stained with pink, washed down blood, to wipe the remains of it from your leg. He smiles, puts his palette where it's supposed to go and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "You were good."

"I try to be." You answer him again, his gaze darkens.

"Stop saying that."

"Eh?"

"Just say thank you. If I praise you it comes from a genuine place, it's not an invitation for you to try harder." His tone is harsh, he has a problem modulating the intensity of his voice.

"Ah- I- I guess so. I'm sorry."

"Stop talking." He growls, kneeling again, he licks little droplets of blood that escaped your wound again. You don't even flinch when he does this, although you can feel your heart racing. He stands up, walks back to his painting spot, and continues to paint you in silence. For a long while there's only silence, Helen can't work if there's too many sounds, sometimes he lets you play some music, but he's angry now, or at least it seems like it. "When I praise you... it's genuine. I mean it, I wouldn't do it if it wasn't coming from my heart." He takes a deep breath. "It's... it's reciprocity. You praised my paintings because you genuinely liked them. I praise you because I genuinely love you."

He looks up at you, flustering when he sees tears rolling down your cheeks, doing your best to maintain the pose he asked you to keep.

"You mean it?" You ask, sniffling. "You won't leave me for not being good enough?"

"Eh? Ah!? O-Of course!" He stutters for a moment, not knowing what to do or say. "S-Stop crying! You'll mess up with the lighting over your face!"

hope you enjoyed this!!!

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[pizza-soup]

Hey! Just wanted to do an update for the new year!

Sooo, what have I been up to? A lot actually!

First off, I'd like to introduce a new member to my household, her name is Lucky, and I found her on an urbex trip last year as a tiny thing, and looked how gorgeous she is as an adult!

Those markings are pretty neat, huh? She's looks just like a Maneki Neko, all that's missing is a red ribbon and koban coin. She has such a sweet, affectionate personality, she is surprisingly very open to strangers giving her attention, and she loves water! Yeah, she plays in water! She has zero fear of it and likes playing with the sink faucet or laying on my shoulders when I soaking in the bath. I think it stems from me taking her out to the garden with me in the summer when I was watering the plants, the puddles cooled her off.

Speaking of gardening, I have two new trees. Ginkgos! My great aunt had one in her front yard, these are the babies. Since it's way too cold to plant them directly into the ground, they're currently in pots. I want them to grow just a bit larger before transplanting them.

And yes, that's Sol posing by the new trees! Look how handsome he is now! I'm glad he and his sister took in Lucky as an honorable sibling, I think she'd be very lonely otherwise. Stella has also grown up to be beautiful, and likes sharing her bed with Lucky. Orion doesn't like her though. Lol but he tolerates her so long as she doesn't get too close.

My health is better, thankfully. While I think I'll always have hypotension now, my doctor and I found a setup that works to keep it at bay. I have to watch my activity level and learn to rest properly (exercise can cause BP to drop fast), and stay hydrated with electrolytes daily. I have to set reminders though, since Im so bad at remembering. So far I haven't had any relapses for 7 months. I've also oddly lost a lot of weight, I thought it was suspicious, but my doctor said I'm actually at my BMI and the weight loss was gradual. My records show it was within a normal time range. Idk it felt so sudden to ME, but maybe I didn't notice it until recently. Eh. My sense of time isn't the best. Whatever the case, I was told to keep doing whatever I'm doing.

Work is... just as weird as always! Lol to the point it's kind of not weird for me anymore, I've gotten used to the strangeness of it. My brother however never got used to it. He actually quit working for the labs, not because it scared him off but because he finally got his major finished and he is working in an observatory down south. I'm proud of him! Space has always been a big interest for him, and the space science here in NM is growing!

As for creating, I've been busy writing two fanfics on Ao3. One is a Pokemon story, Come What May, and another is an alternate take on the classic Disney film, The Little Mermaid, called Candle on the Water. They're pretty long, my Pokemon fic is currently topping 20 chapters! I'd really appreciate if more people read them. Give em a little love. It's not the best work ever, but I'm kinda proud of them. They were written when I was struggling with a lot of self doubt and mild Imposter Syndrome. I'm working on being more gentle to myself and not letting perfectionism sabotage me or stop me from creating, and I'm kinda seeing that effort pay off bit by bit.

I've also been doing some song covers. I'm not sure if I'm confident in sharing those yet, but I've gotten a lot of encouragement from my family and my brother's friend who has been letting me borrow his music studio for recording sessions. Maybe I'll post one song if it's requested. I have three covers so far and they're all Evanescence. XD

Its been a very peaceful time for me, I got a raise last November and it's been nice. I've been treating myself to stationery and home decor. I splurged a bit and got two gaming devices from Anbernic, and have been modding my 3DSXL. Because screw gaming companies and their paywalling/microtransactions. It's time we start actually owning our games again, including media like music and movies.

I think this year is going to focus on retro media for me. CDs, DVDs, cassettes and vinyls. I've been rediscovering my collection in the garage and learning to maintain/fix my devices. Because while I do enjoy my modern media, I like the thought of having offline backups should I not have access to it later.

And my old school stuff takes me back to my summer days in school when I couldn't wait to get home to play my Gameboy while listening to my CDs, reading comics, or doodle and write short stories in my notebooks, or make zines with my friends. That might be something to revisit this summer.

I hope everything has been going well for you all, and if not, I hope it will soon. I may just return to this year, but probably gradually. I missed you all, and I miss sharing bits of my life here with you.

Take care! 💕

Edit: I'm not coming back. I'm sorry.

[arc-misadventures]

The Cats Armoured Coat

Blake: Okay, how are your guy’s plans going?

Pyrrha: Not good. Jaune just complimented my armour on how nice it looked, and how it will provide me additional protection the next time we have to fight.

Blake: Well, he did compliment you on how nice you looked.

Pyrrha: I know~! But, I thought my armour would help seduce him with its subtle curves, and metal plating. You think his eyes would have been mesmerized by the sight of the skirt as I shook my hips at him.

Blake: Well, he did compliment you, he never did it before so he is aware of your new armour. Unlike before where he wasn’t aware of… anything.

Pyrrha: That’s true… I guess I’ll take the wins when I get them then.

Blake: That’s the spirit! So how goes things with, Yang’s new armour?

Pyrrha: Well… she’s having some… issues…

Blake: Like… what…?

Blake looked over, Pyrrha’s shoulder to see, Ruby struggling in vain to shove, Yang’s massive breasts into the armour breast plate, then to try, and connect the armour to the rest of the suit.

Ruby: Grrrr! They. Won’t. Fit!

Yang: Yes they will!

Ruby: No they won’t!

Yang: YES THEY WILL!!!

Ruby: Ahh! This breast plate should have at least been made into a, B Cup, why did you want it to be an, A Cup?!

Yang: Because watching my massive tits pop out would be so hot!

Ruby: There are more effective ways to may a, Double G Cup look like a, A Cup. This isn’t one of them?!

Yang: It will work!

Ruby: Rahhhhhhhh!

Yang: Ahhhhhhhh!

(Click)

And with that final scream the armour plate fit into its slot locking itself in place.

Yang: Ah! See, told you it would work~!

Ruby: Not for long. That things like a coiled spring; one good bump, and that thing will come flying out like a sling shot.

Yang: Pssh! That won’t happen. Good gods… It’s been years since I could look at my feet like this. Is this how you, and Weiss feel?

Ruby: Hey!

Yang: Haha! With this I can finally seduce, Jaune! He’ll no longer be going after that washboard, Weiss as soon as he sees my amazing mommy milkers~!

Ruby: Okay…? Just, stop bouncing like that; you might dislodge the chest piece if you keep doing that.

Yang: I can’t help it; They were always jiggling now they’re doing nothing at…?!

Like a ballista releasing its crossbow bolt, Yang’s breast plate came out flying at an insane speed slamming into, Ruby’s face knocking her off her feet, and knocking her out cold in seconds. Leaving no time to marvel as, Yang’s bounced free from their confinement.

Ruby: Gahh?!!

Yang: Oh shit, Ruby?!

BP: …

Blake: Well, that was inevitably going to happen…

Pyrrha: The jiggle they gave as they broke free was pretty nice.

Blake: Oh it was salivating to the senses. Anyway, want to come with me while I seduce, Jaune~?

Pyrrha: Oh~? And, what exactly are you planning on doing?

Blake: Follow me~!

~~~

Jaune: Lotters~! Looters~! Looters~! Loot… ers?

Blake: Oh! Hi, Jaune~! What do you think of my new… Body armour~?

Jaune: Looks incredibly uncomfortable, and highly impractical.

Blake: Eh?

Jaune: Actually it would be good if you wore an undershirt, and a cap. But, I doubt all that heavy chainmail is comfortable on your cat ears now is it?

Blake: It is a little heavy on my ears.

Jaune: and, you really should have worn an undershirt under all that chainmail. How they link the chains together may inadvertently scratch up your back, and you should probably have a shower too since they use oil to maintain the quality of the chainmail. Don’t want to ruin your lovely skin now do we~!

Blake: Oh… T-Thank you… I’ll go do that later…

Jaune: And, as for that… skirt…

Blake: What about it…?

Jaune: …

Blake: …?

Jaune: …

Blake: Jaune?

Jaune: It really compliments your amazing a…?! I-It’s highly impractical! Take it off!

Blake: I’ll go do that…

Jaune: Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I was going to meet, Nora, and Ren at, Looters. Till later then.

Blake: B-Bye, Jaune!

Blake: Well… That failed…

Pyrrha: I’ll say… He took one look at you, and critiqued everything wrong with your outfit.

Blake: I know… Dammit… I thought this would rock his blocks off…

Pyrrha: Well, yeah, but look at the bright side.

Blake: And, that is?

Pyrrha: Jaune thinks you have an amazing ass~!

Blake: …

Blake: Hell yeah! Bellabooty for the win!

“Smack!”

Blake: AHH?! It scratch my butt! The chainmail scratched up my ass! Oh gods that stings!

Pyrrha: Well, he did warn you. So…?

Blake: Not helping!

Pyrrha: Sorry.

[faithhopeloveandtherapy]

I went to the GP today because I’ve been having these adrenaline surges where my heart races and I get really shaky. Nearly cancelled the appointment multiple times over the last two weeks because thinking I’m just being overdramatic. Only kept it because I want my thyroid checked and I want to know there’s not something going on that should be being treated.

We concluded I’m probably just stressed, hypervigilant and frequent fight or flight with the children, internalising the stress to keep calm on the outside. She checked my BP and it was through the roof, but she said she could see I was stressed being there so I should just get it rechecked st a calmer time.

She offered medication but I said really I can cope with the symptoms, I just want to know there’s nothing else going on. Also going to do some bloods to check a few things.

All fun and games eh. Clearly not good for me to be putting this stress on my body so I think I need to find more ways to keep it calmer. Probably should cut down on the caffeine a little more too.

[postsofbabel]

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[elite-amarys]

Event Announcement: BBA Student Council Election Season

It’s election season at Blueberry Academy! That means that it’s time for our Student Council candidates to start campaigning for your votes. There are multiple seats available, all of them requiring a different set of skills and know-how! The positions to be campaigned for are:

Student Council President *SEE NOTE BELOW*: The one in charge of it all! Student Council President leads the charge on all current projects, makes final decisions, and is the representative of our school to the world at large. BBA is a school run primarily by its students, which makes this is a big role, with a lot of responsibilities, but if you think you’re up for the challenge announce your candidacy today! One seat available, and the runner up in this poll will be named Vice President of the Student Council.

Secretary: The administrative brains behind the operation. The secretary compiles and distributes meeting minutes, assists in special projects, reports treasury information, and monitors all incoming communication from students and clubs. One seat available.

Treasurers: The money masters! These students monitor and manage anything and everything to do with our BP economy, including your BBQ rewards and club budgets. They are also responsible for monitoring all club spending. There are three seats available.

Historian: This is the person responsible for all documentation of club activities, as well as general media attention to BB Academy. They record interviews, save photos of memorable moments, and generally ensure that the history of BBA is well documented. One seat available.

While we strongly recommend that candidates for the Student Council President position have at least some experience with Student Council in the past, any student may announce their candidacy for any position! The deadline to announce your candidacy is MAY 10th

From May 11th onward election season will be in full swing! Campaigns, posters, speeches, big promises, whatever you feel will get you the most votes. And while the official campaign doesn’t start until the 11th, there’s nothing stopping you from making friends and taking names before then, eh? 😉

Anyone running for Student Council President MUST have their platforms finalized and announced by no later than May 15th. Any candidates that fail to announce a platform will be disqualified.

Finally, election day will take place on June 2nd! Any student currently enrolled in BBA who will be attending in the 2024-2024 school year is welcome to vote.

Best of luck, candidates!

//OOC housekeeping below the cut read or perish

First up, any BBA blog can run for any of these positions but the outcome of Student Council President is locked to Amarys winning. This is because 1) BBA Student Council is my baby and I will not be giving up control of it, you can pry my headcanons out of my cold dead hands, 2) This is a canon character trait of hers and 3) My event my rules. That said, the runner up WILL be named vice president, which is also a very important spot on Student Council. Amarys’ name will not be showing up on the actual polls on June 2nd, but if another blog wins by a landslide Amarys will be considered to have won by only a slim margin. So basically, if you are running for StuCo President you are actually running for Vice President.

If you want your character to participate you MUST message me directly, it can be an ic ask or not. The important point is that you don’t just make a post on your blog. I might not see it, and then you will not be included in the list of candidates posted May 11th.

This is going to be a tumblr event, no discord required.

All positions will have at least one NPC running for them. This is both to give anyone who opts in someone to fight against, and to give me a safety net in case there is a position or positions that no one wants to run for.

Lastly, if you want to participate but don’t think your own blorbo would run, you are free to create an anon persona to campaign with. I think this would be difficult to do, as you’d be limited to only campaigning via asks, but it is absolutely an option. You also run the risk of someone impersonating you to spread rumors but hey! I think that kind of drama would be a blast tbh.

That’s all! Let me know if you have any questions :3