#even if i am also at the same time making him into someone i can love even more hfsdjkgl

[waynes-multiverse]

Already so in love with the start of this chapter! A girl who can eat is a girl after my heart 🫶 (and apparently Russell's lol)

“Good god. You have never been more attractive to me, which is saying something.” You slurped again, Russell letting his curiosity in your eating habits fade away in favor of the elephant in the room.

Girl, you and I have the same headcanon about this! He needs someone with super weird food habits 😂🫶

And I loved her then suddenly trying to get rid of him and coming up with the lamest excuse in the book before threathening him lol. Glad he saw right through that! And this made me melt 🫠:

“Forget I said anything.” You stood up, Russell matching the movement and catching your bicep before you could take a step. Yes, he was injured but even one armed, he had enough raw strength in him to keep you from leaving. “Tell me or I dig on my own and make things a lot riskier for both of us.” He dropped his hand, nodding to the seat. Russell sighed. “I trusted you. You can do the same.”

Oh, and it is a mafia thing! 👀 Phew, that's a tough job for Russell (not that I doubt his abilities, but she is right – he's only one man. You're not planning on breaking my heart, are you? 😅)

“Like my home?” He stared blankly, eyes drifting down to your chest. “The flirting was cute. Eye-fucking me in my kitchen, not so much.” “You have sauce all over your shirt.”

Oh, he got real lucky there, didn't he? He must've loved this 😂😂

“Because knowing how to get stains out of all types of fabrics is kind of necessary in my line of work,” he said, opening a few cabinets before finding the one with the plates. “Now. Can you put the knife you thought you grabbed without me seeing back and we have a civilized conversation over pizza?”

I'm so in love with this characterization of him here! Behind all the goofiness and bad flirting still hides that smart killing machine, and you portray that so well throughout their entire conversation 🖤

“The paranoia got to dad. He would take me on these weekend hunting trips all the time and teach me survival skills and medical stuff and I was a fucking kid, Russell. I didn’t want to do that shit but dad was…twitchy.

I love reading more of her backstory, and obviously Russell can relate since he grew up similarily. I see some romance brewing and bonding happening here 😍

You’re going to park in the visitors lot and go to the airstream in lot 4. It’ll be isolated. You knock on the door and there’ll be a guy inside. Colter. You stay with him, go wherever he goes and do whatever he tells you to without question. You don’t leave his side until I come and get you, understand?”

Knowing her, I don't see this working out well for Colter. Poor guy will have his hands full with her 😂

You woke up around six thirty, jolting up in your bed to find a very wet and nearly naked Colter trying to pick up a mug he’d dropped.  “Well good morning,” you said, his hand in a death grip on the towel just barely concealing him away.

I don't mind this at all 😏

The commitment to him being shirtless on this show is for real, tho 🫠 (And PS: I saw you wrote for Colter too! I totally have to check that out! Justin Hartley had me in a chokehold since This Is Us. He rows right into the "lovable and stupidly hot idiot" category that I've fallen victim to lol.)

And not only did she bond with Russell in this part but also with Colter. Seriously loved every minute of their conversation! And considering Russell sent her to his brother, who he hasn't spoken to in so long, speaks volumes how much he trusts Colter. Colter seeing that too was such a precious moment 😭🫶

Sure, Colter was hot but Russell…well the image of that man in nothing but a towel as water dripped down his body…

Agree! The ruggedness and roughness (the beard) certainly adds a few plus points 🔥😏

“And? What am I saying?” you asked, staring him down.

I was gonna say, she should be careful with that challenge, and his answer did not disappoint! It was gold 🤣🤣🤣

And I totally didn't expect her to stay with Colter for days, drive across the country, and join him on a case! This is such a cool twists and I'm loving their hangout dynamic 😁 I do have an inkling Russell will be jealous of their bonding and probably scold Colter for taking her on a case lmao

“He knows what he’s doing. A job like this, he’s got to do a lot of prep work and he’s got to put a crew together. Trusted friends. Try not to worry.”

Ooooh I know you read the books and this reminded me so much of the crew book!Russell worked with!!! 👏

I was so relieved when he came back in one piece! And that little present for her was so sweet and thoughtful 🥹 The note, on the other hand, was hilarious 😂

But why the angst at the end there? No they were supposed to be happy! Sunset, rainbows, unicorns, glitter!!! I will suffer in the next part, won't I? 😅

This was such an amazing chapter from start to finish! I thoroughly enjoyed all their conversations, their dynamics, the humor mixed with seriousness and feelings. Loved every second of this! 🩵

He's My Man (Part 2)

Summary: The reader isn't quite so sure if she can trust Russell with her secrets but he's decided she's going to get his help, whether she wants it or not. Reluctantly she accepts but in the process realizes she might actually be starting to care about him...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 4,500ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury mention, mentions of death, angst, fluff

A/N: Ooooh things are heating up! Please enjoy!

__________

Russell stared at you with what one could only describe as a look of wonder. You didn’t exactly blame him. Eating four large cheese danishes and chugging back a week’s worth of coffee in the span of fifteen minutes was enough to make anyone’s eyes widen.

You tossed your trash in his motel waste bin when you finished and returned to your seat at the tiny corner table. With an obnoxiously loud slurp of even more coffee, Russell titled his head, shaking it slightly.

“Good god. You have never been more attractive to me, which is saying something.” You slurped again, Russell letting his curiosity in your eating habits fade away in favor of the elephant in the room. He straightened in his seat, pausing a beat. “So. What’s this long story?”

Your fingertips rattled against the side of the large styrofoam cup, a small amount of heat radiating through. Now that you’d had some time to think, or rather stress eat, you knew this was a mistake. A big one. You needed to kick Russell out of your life and the sooner the better.

“I think you have the wrong idea about what’s going on and I thought it better we talk in private,” you said. Russell wore a weary expression, his eyes dissecting your every micro-movement. “I’m not interested in a relationship or a date or conversation. I don’t do that considering my line of work and I imagine you keep things casual with yours. So you take your money and consider this a warning. Contact me again and I will have you dealt with, understand?”

Russell leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a clenched jaw. You narrowed your eyes in response, Russell picking at his bandage without realizing. 

“Stop that,” you mumbled when he kept doing it, his lip twitching up in a not so friendly way.

“You threaten me and in the next breath are worried about my damn stitches? I don’t think you realize just how good I am at my job,” he said, placing both hands on the table, folding them together. You swallowed, Russell staring so intently you had to glance away. “Alright. Back at the coffee shop, that was a moment of bravery and now it’s passed? Tough shit. We’re in the weeds now and we ain’t leaving until I know you do your job of your own free will. Understand?”

“Forget I said anything.” You stood up, Russell matching the movement and catching your bicep before you could take a step. Yes, he was injured but even one armed, he had enough raw strength in him to keep you from leaving.

“Tell me or I dig on my own and make things a lot riskier for both of us.” He dropped his hand, nodding to the seat. Russell sighed. “I trusted you. You can do the same.”

“You’re one guy.” You shook your head. “Drop this or you’ll wind up dead or worse.”

“I made my living doing jobs where if I fucked up I’d wish I were dead over the alternative. I know how to keep a secret. Maybe I can help, maybe I can’t. But you opened the box. You can’t just close it again.”

“Yes, I can. Goodbye, Russell.” You grabbed your coffee and headed for the door, pausing when you had a hand on the handle.

But what if he could help…he was ex-special ops…

Russell’s hand slid over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. You frowned, a reassuring smile greeting you.

“Do you like your job?” he asked. 

“S’complicated,” you whispered.

“How complicated?”

“Jobs like yours…that’s up to me to do that stuff but I…I work for someone else.” You found Russell’s unreadable green eyes and sighed. “I’m a fixer for the local mafia. It’s not a job you get to quit and stay alive very long.”

Russell contemplated your words, lips forming a thin line before he nodded. “I can take care of that assuming your story checks out.”

“My story?” you asked, Russell humming. “Why would I lie-”

“You could be playing me for any number of reasons. Like I said, I’m going to check your story out and if it’s all kosher, we’ll figure out where to go from there. Capiche?”

“Fine,” you grit out, shaking his hand away. “But do it quietly. You got three days.”

Late Evening

Your eye actually twitched when you answered your front door that night to find not your pizza delivery man before you but Russell fucking Shaw. He wore a deep navy utility jacket that hung loosely around his trim waist and a pair of black jeans. You weren’t sure why but his shift from lighter colored clothing this morning to this dark, edgy look made him look as dangerous as you expected he was.

“Russell,” you said. He didn’t bother hiding his smirk, eyes roaming over your body. You glanced down at your soft pale yellow pajama shirt and matching shorts set, huffing when he slipped past you inside.

“You totally are the kind of woman to having matching jammies,” he chuckled. You gripped the door tight, ready to kick him out just as your delivery driver pulled up.

“Just…take off your boots.” Two minutes later you had your pizza and garlic knots on your kitchen counter while Russell leaned back against it, his jacket since removed and tossed on the back of your couch. He wore a black zip up that was undone over a black t-shirt, Russell shifting at your growing unease.

“Listen,” he said, holding up his hands. “You got questions but first off, I’m not here to hurt you. This is just what I wear when I need to go…looking around places I ain’t exactly invited into.”

“Like my home?” He stared blankly, eyes drifting down to your chest. “The flirting was cute. Eye-fucking me in my kitchen, not so much.”

“You have sauce all over your shirt.” You glanced down, spotting marinara drops all over your short sleeve button up top from where you’d had the edge of the pizza box pressed against your torso as you’d carried it in. “Thanks for thinking so highly of me, though. Makes a guy feel special.”

“I’m on edge, alright?” you snapped, grabbing a towel and trying to get most of the sauce out. “Plus I just ruined a two hundred dollar shirt.”

“Figured you for a oversized men’s t-shirts kind of gal but little sets from french boutiques suites you.” You froze, Russell dropping his hands. “I know all about your shopping habits. You have high quality taste, much richer than the average suburbanite.”

“And?” you said, tossing the towel down, hands going to your hips. “Are you about to kidnap me and turn me over to the mafia or what?”

Russell approached you slowly, gently picking up the towel from the floor and dabbing it with some dish soap. 

“If I had wanted to hurt you or take you or whatever else is going through your head, you wouldn’t have seen me coming.” He rubbed the towel against the damp spot on your shirt, letting the fabric get soapy. “Let that soak for a few minutes and then after you have some dinner, toss it in the wash. It’ll come out good as new.”

“How do you know that?” you asked, Russell hanging your towel on the oven handle. 

“Because knowing how to get stains out of all types of fabrics is kind of necessary in my line of work,” he said, opening a few cabinets before finding the one with the plates. “Now. Can you put the knife you thought you grabbed without me seeing back and we have a civilized conversation over pizza?”

You weren’t sure how he’d seen you swipe the knife from the butchers block but figured he had a point. If he’d wanted to screw you over, he would have done it already. After excusing yourself, you returned in a pair of skinny black joggers and a slightly cropped gray AC/DC shirt to find Russell had already plated two sizeable portions for yourselves. 

“See? Now that’s a look more fitting for the princess of darkness,” he chuckled.

“That’s queen of darkness to you,” you said, taking a seat at the island in front of one of the plates. “Do me a favor, lover boy. Grab me a guinness from the fridge.”

“Dark stout. Always a good choice.” He got out two, removing the cap for you before retreating to the other side of the island.

“As much as I love uninvited house guests who welcome themselves to my food and beer, why are you here, Russell?” You took a large bite of pizza, Russell long necking his beer for a moment. 

“Yet I don’t see you kicking me out. It’s okay to admit you’ve fallen for me, Y/N,” he teased. You growled, Russell’s eyebrows raising in amusement. “Hot damn, woman. I love when you get all grr. Tells me you are a force to be reckoned with.”

You rolled your eyes, Russell taking an extra large bite. “Stop flirting and talk.”

“Why can’t I do both?” he asked, not waiting for an answer. “But to answer your original question, I’m here because your story checked out and that’s kind of a problem.”

“Excuse me? Why is that an issue?”

He set his plate down and gripped the island, leaning over it slightly. “Y/N. I can call up a few friends and wipe out a local mafia family no problem.”

“Awesome. Then what’s the fucking problem?” Russell tilted his head, like you’d just walked into some kind of trap he’d set.

“Y/N. Despite all the obvious sexual tension brewing between us, you failed to mention that you have a boyfriend. You know, the head of this fucking mafia family. The boyfriend that buys you those fancy french pajama sets? The one that bought that espresso machine over there? Girl, you better explain yourself because I am not a hired gun.”

You chewed quietly for a few moments under the heated scrutiny of Russell’s gaze before you pushed the plate away.

“My dad was an accomplished doctor. He was very well respected. I grew up very comfortably until I was about eight.” Russell loosened his stance and began to eat while you decided what he needed to absolutely know. “My dad unknowingly saved a mobster’s life one night in the ER. Mr. Lauter.”

“The former head of the mafia and this guy, Owen, your supposed boyfriend’s dad?” You nodded before taking a big swig from your bottle.

“Well, that pissed off Mr. Elpine who had almost had a successful hit on Mr. Lauter. Elpine tried to get my dad to kill Lauter. Dad refused and the next morning on the way to school, the brake lines in our car didn’t work. Dad and I walked away. Mom and my brother didn’t. Dad was scared Elpine would come after me again.”

“Your father went to Lauter for protection,” said Russell. You picked up your pizza as he put together the rest of the pieces. “Lauter offers him protection for saving his life but something happens and your dad ends up working for Lauter as his fixer.”

“The paranoia got to dad. He would take me on these weekend hunting trips all the time and teach me survival skills and medical stuff and I was a fucking kid, Russell. I didn’t want to do that shit but dad was…twitchy. PTSD for sure, a mental break too. I always guessed there was some brain trauma after the accident that never healed. He got real bad when I went to college. Bad enough that Lauter stepped in when my dad attacked me when I came home for the holidays. Lauter killed him and the fucked up part was I wasn’t even upset. My real dad had died when I was a kid. But…when a mob boss kills for you whether you wanted them to or not-”

“They think they own you for life.” You nodded. “So you became the fixer.”

“They let me finish college under the condition I come back and work for the family. They leave me be except for when I need to patch someone in the crew up. It’s honestly not that bad. They gave me a lot of money over the years. I hate to say this but Mr. Lauter was pretty good to me.”

Russell cleared his throat. “You do know how fucked up what he did to you is, right?”

“Of course I do,” you said, closing your eyes. “But compared to my dad and Owen, he was the lesser evil.”

“I came across the fact Mr. Lauter died about three weeks ago from heart disease.” You hummed. “Tell me about this fuckface, Owen.”

“Dude has had a crush on me since he was fucking twelve. He has it in his head that the family owns me, literally. Lauter always reined him in but since he’s been gone, Owen’s been…pushy. Telling the crew I’m his girlfriend, asking them to follow me. Thankfully, and this is why this is so weird, I grew up around a lot of the guys. Making me work and fix people, fine. But some kind of forced romance? They aren’t cool with it, at least they’re kind of ignoring Owen. I’ve kept Owen off my back because he’s grieving and busy trying to take over but he’s going to back on my ass soon. This time, those guys will have to listen to their new boss.”

“So…I take out Owen and you think you’re in the clear. You could have just said that.” He finished off his beer and washed his hands at the sink. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going grab essentials, and I mean essentials, while I pack up your dinner in what I expect is some color coordinated tupperware. Then you’re going to take my car and drive to Elmhurst Camping Grounds. It’s about four hours north of here and no, you will stop for anything so use the bathroom before you go and I’ll pack you a snack. You’re going to park in the visitors lot and go to the airstream in lot 4. It’ll be isolated. You knock on the door and there’ll be a guy inside. Colter. You stay with him, go wherever he goes and do whatever he tells you to without question. You don’t leave his side until I come and get you, understand?”

“I feel like if I ask questions you’ll just tell me I don’t want to know.” Russell smirked.

“I love that big brain of yours.” You rolled your eyes but felt a tiny smile on your face. “Warming up to me are we?”

“Fuck no. But uh, who the hell are you sending me to?”

“My baby brother. Don’t worry. His ugly mug will keep you safe.”

Four Hours Later

“Uh, hi,” you said, practically bouncing up and down at midnight in front of a strange tall man at a very nice airstream RV. 

“Y/N,” he said as you forced a smile. “Bathroom is right there-”

You darted past him and into the small cubby bathroom, grateful after the long drive. The man was waiting leaned against a small counter space when you exited, a temporary bed made up behind him in what looked like a breakfast nook.

“Sorry to barge in. Russell said not to stop for anything.” 

“S’alright,” he said. “Bed’s made up if you want to crash. I’m going to stay up a bit longer by the fire. You’re welcome to join if you like.”

“Thanks, uh…” you said, a very brief smile on his face as you tried to remember what Russell had called him.

“Colter. It’s not a problem.” He skirted by you and outside, taking a seat in a foldable camping chair. You had questions but for the moment, all you wanted was to get some rest. 

You woke up around six thirty, jolting up in your bed to find a very wet and nearly naked Colter trying to pick up a mug he’d dropped. 

“Well good morning,” you said, his hand in a death grip on the towel just barely concealing him away.

“Morning,” he said, slowly backing up to the bedroom. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Not a problem,” you said, catching a whiff of coffee. 

“Mug are in the first cabinet if you want a cup. I’ll be out in a minute,” he said. He excused himself to his room and slid the divider shut, leaving you to the rest of the airstreamer. 

A moment later you were outside in front of a small fire, sitting in a chair with warm coffee in your hands. It was cool and you wished you’d thought to pack a jacket in your haste last night.

You were rubbing your arms when something was draped over your shoulders, a thick heavy hoodie. 

“Russell got you out of there pretty quick, huh?” asked Colter, taking the mug while you shrugged into the warm fleece.

“Yeah. All I grabbed was my wallet, some cash and my computer. He told me I could buy clothes here,” you said. Colter handed you back the mug and took a seat beside you.

“I checked his car. He had a duffel full of his clothes in there I brought inside. You can use his stuff, or mine, until we can hit a store.”

“Thanks,” you said, smelling Russell’s deodorant on the fabric. Colter saw you tug the hood up, a question on the tip of his tongue but he decided against it. The air was still and quiet apart from the crackle of fire and morning birds. 

“So,” said Colter, not looking at you as he drank. “You and Russell…you like, his girlfriend-”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I just met the guy yesterday. All I did was patch him up.”

“Right.” You sunk lower in your chair, slurping loudly.

“Were you special ops like him?” you asked. Colter shook his head.

“Civilian. Never had any formal training, just what we grew up with.” Well, that was an interesting statement. What the hell did it mean though? “Our father was a survivalist, taught us things.”

“Oh. My dad was a little out there too.” Was that why Russell was so adamant about helping you out of your situation? No. Maybe it played a part, but no. He’d wanted to help before you told him that. “Does Russell do this sort of thing often?”

“No clue. First time I talked to him in years was two days ago. I helped him find a friend of his. I was there when he got that bullet hole in him you fixed.”

Alrighty then. Russell was becoming more and more intriguing by the second. 

“So you don’t know a lot about him then,” you said. Colter shrugged.

“I guess I’m figuring him out too but he’s a good guy. He’s somebody you want as a friend.” You hummed, finishing your coffee off. Colter excused himself to get you more and returned with a fresh cup, steam billowing from within. 

“You trail run?” you asked, Colter’s eyes showing a flash of surprise. “Muddy sneakers by the door. I did cross country in school.”

“I try to get out most mornings. The hot water should be good to go in about five minutes if you want a shower.” 

“Thanks.” You licked your lips as you remembered the sight of him exiting the bathroom not long ago. Sure, Colter was hot but Russell…well the image of that man in nothing but a towel as water dripped down his body…You shifted in your seat, squeezing your legs together to try and get a hold of yourself. Colter smirked slightly in his seat. “What?”

“I’m good at reading people is all.”

“And? What am I saying?” you asked, staring him down. Colter only smiled as he looked away to the fire.

“You’re wondering if Russell works out and picturing him naked.” You glared at him but it did nothing to hide the heat radiating off your cheeks. “Hey, you’re a grown woman. You can do as you please.”

“I think I will take that shower now.” You stood and set the mug down on the ground, shooting Colter one last look. There’d been no malice or teasing in his voice. He was simply being straight with you. “Listen. I just…I haven’t exactly been around good guys much, or ever. I’m not saying there’s anything there beyond physical attraction, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, looking at you like you were the worst liar in the world. “Whatever you say.”

You grumbled and went inside to take a very cold shower.

Three Days Later - Spokane, Washington

“Hey, Colt,” you said, pushing up the long sleeves of Russell’s gray henley you wore. Colter hummed around the piece of grilled chicken in his mouth as you spun your laptop around from the other side of the airstream’s dining table. “Could she have gone here? Looks like a decommissioned game trail.”

“Yeah, yeah that fits,” he said with his mouth full, chewing and swallowing quickly so he could take a closer look. You returned to your own dinner, Colter mentioning he was going to take a look after dark. 

Things had fallen into an easy pattern with the two of you. Colter was very different than his brother but it wasn’t a bad thing. He didn’t talk much and worked as a rewardist. He’d planned on sticking around the east coast for when Russell met up with you again but an urgent case in Washington popped up. You’d spent most of the past three days driving cross-country behind Colter’s truck and the airstreamer, learning what the hell a rewardist was.

Colter had told you about the case at first to keep your mind off of Russell but you’d reluctantly taken an interest and now were deep in the weeds of helping him locate a missing young woman.

“You want to come look with me?” asked Colter, breaking you out of your train of thought. You blinked, a small smile on his face. “Come on. It’ll get you some experience with rewardest work and stop you from doom scrolling.”

“Alright,” you sighed. While you appreciated Colter’s attempts to make you feel better, you were starting to get very concerned. You hadn’t heard from Russell since you left your house a few days ago and there was nothing in the news about the local mafia members being killed. Or him.

Colter rubbed your back when you helped him unhook it from the airstream. He tended to do that when you started to get stressed out. He hadn’t been lying before. He really was good at reading people. 

“Colter,” you said in the dark truck, the hum of the vehicle quiet in the cab as he drove. “What if something happened to him and he needs our help?”

“He knows what he’s doing. A job like this, he’s got to do a lot of prep work and he’s got to put a crew together. Trusted friends. Try not to worry.” You bit your bottom lip as you stared out the window, trees passing by. 

If only it were that simple.

It was two in the morning by the time you and Colter made it back to the camping grounds. You’d found Martha in not too great of shape but she was alive and the doctors said she’d make a full recovery with time. Colter has tried to give you some of the reward money for helping but you hadn’t done all that much in your opinion. 

“Stay here,” he said when he turned the truck into your lot and you spotted a dark figure sitting by the fire. He took his gun from the back of jeans and got out, pausing halfway out the door. He smiled over at you and you caught the dark figure give an awkward little wave. “Should I tell him how much you’ve been worried?”

“Not. A. Word. Colter,” you said before hopping out and happily rushing over to where Russell rose to his feet. You didn’t realize you were giving him a hug until he was laughing, returning it and lifting you off the ground. 

“I missed my queen of darkness too,” he chuckled, setting you down with a smirk. You scoffed, Russell’s eyebrows raising at your attire. “Is that my jacket? And shirt?”

“Why waste the money on new stuff,” you shrugged, Russell grinning like an idiot. “Stop that.”

“I’m sure that was the reason.” Colter came over, the boys sharing a nod. “You keep my little delinquent out of trouble?”

“She’s a breeze,” said Colter, taking a seat. “Even helped with my latest case. She should try the rewardist thing. She’s good at it.”

“Maybe. All I want to know is am I good?” you asked. Russell took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He nodded, the tension running of out your body. “Thank you, Russell. Thank your friends too. I’ll pay you guys-”

“No payment. This was because you’re my friend, plain and simple. Just knowing you’re safe is more than enough.” You smiled, letting yourself rest your head against his shoulder. “You should rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“How-”

“In the morning. I need to catch up with my little brother.” You nodded, enjoying the feel of his heavy hand as it ran over your head. “Go sleep, Y/N. You’re exhausted.”

You reluctantly peeled yourself away and went inside to find your makeshift bed had been done up for you already. You didn’t even try to fight the flutters in your stomach when you spotted a yellow pajama shirt and shorts set neatly folded on top. There was a note beside it, a stupid ass smile finding it’s way onto your face.

Brand new. Imported from France. Don’t get used to fancy ass presents like these. I ain’t made of money. Even if these are soft as fuck and I totally wish they made these for men. I still think you’d look better wearing a band tee to bed.

Russ

P.S. They had a sale so I got you something else too. Check your backpack.

You shook your head and grabbed your bag from the floor, taking out a very elegant black bag. You undid the tissue paper and went wide eyed. 

Inside was a very, very, fancy black lace bra and multiple pairs of gorgeous bikini style undies in soft muted colors. There was another note waiting for you inside, your heart stilling.

No strings attached. Hopefully these will cover you for a little while until you can get settled again.

“Oh, Russell,” you said quietly, thumbing over the bag, smiling to yourself as your insides did very happy backflips.

He wasn’t just a pretty and protective face. He was thoughtful too.

And you were starting to fall for a guy that’d most likely be gone by this time tomorrow.

Fuck.

__________

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

[pickingupmymercedes]

The Weight of Saudade - Lewis Hamilton

genre: fluff with hints of angst

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Brazilian!Reader!

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Axé inspired fic because I'm missing Brasil. If you want to check the song it's Nobre Vagabundo sung by Daniela Mercury.

a/n 2: Axé is in iorubá (african language), it means the light in every living being, and it's used in a few parts of Brasil as a greeting. But it's also a brazilian rhythm with some of the most angsty gorgeous lyrics on love, even with its upbeat feel (my favourite cup of tea tbh)

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Time never asks if you’re ready as it goes on.

It just slips through your fingers, quiet and indifferent, moving forward whether you’ve had enough of the moment or not.

Ironically, I’ve spent quite a while thinking about that; how much of my life is spent watching the clock, counting down days until Lewis comes home, then counting down again until he has to leave.

It’s a cruel kind of math, measuring love in stretches of time apart instead of time together.

London is dull this time of year. Grey, drizzly, the kind of cold that seeps into your bones and makes you feel like you’ll never be warm again.

Lewis, though, is warmth is human form.

His weight is solid against me, the heat of his skin seeping through the thin fabric of my sweater where his head rests on my lap. His braids tickle my fingers as I absently trace circles at the nape of his neck, just over the tape covering his muscles, stiff from testing.

It’s been nearly a month of him in Maranello, and sure, I flew out when I could—weekends, stolen days between meetings—but it wasn’t the same.

I felt it every time I left, the cold settling each time I packed my bag to fly back. And now that he’s finally here, draped across me in the soft, lazy light of a London afternoon, I don’t want to move.

Outside, the rain taps soft against the soil. I watch it run down the glass, curling my toes under the blanket spread over us.

Without even thinking, I start humming, letting a familiar melody slip past my lips.

Lewis shifts slightly, one hand resting on my thigh as his phone buzzes against his palm. He doesn’t say anything at first, just listens, and I’m halfway through the chorus before I feel his fingers slide over mine.

“What’s that you’re singing?” His voice is thick with the sleepiness of finally being back in his own space after too long away.

Damn. I was not prepared for a pop quiz on my own nostalgia

“It’s, uh—” I clear my throat, buying time. How the hell am I supposed to translate this? It’s axé. You don’t explain axé; you feel it. “It’s a song,” I say, extremely helpfully.

Lewis laughs, turning his face slightly so I can see his smirk. “Yeah, babe, I figured that much.” His thumb is still sweeping over my hand, coaxing, patient.

I groan. “I mean, it’s—okay, hold on.” I take a breath. “It’s kind of about time. And love. And—” I make a vague gesture with my free hand— “you know. Life.”

He tilts his head up to look at me. “That’s vague as hell.”

“Because it is vague as hell,” I huff, but he just waits, smiling like he knows I’ll give in. Which, fine. I always do.

I hesitate for a second. Not because I don’t want to tell him, but because some things always sound different when you strip them down to another language.

More vulnerable.

And It’s funny—if I were talking to someone who knew the language, I wouldn’t even have to explain. They’d just get it. But here, with Lewis watching me so intently, I feel like I have to get it exactly right.

“Alright” I shake my head, but my fingers are still in his hair, softening the edges of my reluctance as search the song on my phone and let it play.

I start translating it as the song plays in the background. “How much time do I have… to kill this saudades?”

His brows draw together slightly. “Saudades” He rolls the word around his mouth like he’s tasting it again.

I nod. “My love, this jealousy—it’s just vanity. If you run away, time will soon bring anxiety. To breathe love, aspiring freedom.”

I peek at him, half expecting him to be confused, but he just nods, his expression open. So I go on, the words thick in my throat.

“I have a crazy life… and try to lead the world. I live from deep love. I perish in time. And I live for a second. Forgive me, my love, for being this noble vagabond.’”

Silence stretches between us for a moment, just the hum of the song, rain and the city outside.

And the quietness makes me feel absurdly self-conscious. I mean, I just translated a whole damn song in a overcast London afternoon to a man who knows about 5 words in Portuguese.

Lewis, as always, doesn’t let me sit in it too long. He squeezes my hand gently. “That’s beautiful” he murmurs.

I exhale, rolling my eyes a little, but he doesn’t let me dodge.

“It’s on wanting time to slow down” I say after a moment. “So you can actually be in it. So you don’t have to spend half of it missing what’s not even gone.”

Lewis watches me, his gaze steady in that way that makes me feel like he sees through my ribcage. “Yeah?”

I nod. “It’s one of the many meanings of saudades.”

His lips curve. “One of my favorite words I’ve learned from you.”

I smile, tilting my head. “Yeah, and what’s the second?”

His fingers tighten slightly over mine before answering in the most Rio de Janeiro accent you’ve heard in years. “Gostoso” (hot as in attractively hot)

And you can’t help the chuckle that escapes you as he smirks “Oh, shut up.” I flick his forehead, but he just laughs, eyes crinkling.

His face then softens, and he nods like he gets it. Like it makes perfect sense. “It always gets me how y’all manage to fit the deepest feelings in two paragraphs.”

I laugh, breathy and real, shaking my head. “It’s a skill.”

Lewis’ gaze darkens, his thumb stroking along my skin. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “But I get the feeling.”

I glance down at him, not even letting the words settle before I say them “I’m already with saudades of the time I’ll have to be away from you.”

But as soon as I say it I can’t the sigh, shifting slightly underneath him. “It’s stupid, right? We’re here. You’re home. And I’m still thinking about the next time you’ll have to leave.”

Lewis turns fully onto his back now, looking up at me. “It’s not stupid.” His voice is quiet, firm. “I think about it too.”

I don’t say anything for a second, just run my nails lightly over his scalp. “Ferrari’s making you happy, though,” I say, because it’s true. He’s been buzzing about it for weeks, despite the grueling testing schedule, despite the stress. And I love that for him. I do.

A small smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah. It’s been good. Crazy, but good. The car feels promising. And Maranello’s…” He trails off, exhaling. “It’s a dream, honestly.”

I smile, brushing a braid back from his forehead. “See? Worth it.”

His fingers find mine again. “Yeah. But still.” He lifts our joined hands slightly. “I always feel saudades of being away from you.” His smile tilts. “Did I use that right?”

A soft laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Almost.” I brush a finger on his cheek. “But the feeling is right.”

Lewis hums, pleased with himself. His other hand slides up, pressing against my ribs, a slow, absentminded caress. “So what do we do about it?”

I sigh theatrically. “Dunno. Run away to Brazil. Hide out somewhere warm.”

His grin is immediate. “Sold.”

I roll my eyes, but his fingers tighten at my side, tugging me down slightly. “I’m serious,” he murmurs, voice lower now, lips brushing just beneath my jaw. “Just me and you, yeah?”

My breath catches for half a second.

God, this man.

I tip my head, letting my nose brush the top of his ear. “Just me and you” I whisper.

Lewis hums in agreement, tracing lazy circles on my wrist with his thumb. Then, after a moment, he tilts his head back at me, smirking “You’re gonna have to translate funk to me one day.”

I snort, shaking my head. “Yeah, not a change.”

I tilt my head, watching the way his lips twitch like he already knows where I’m going with this. “But I can show you.”

He lifts a brow, amused. “Yeah?”

I wink. “Yeah.”

His laugh rumbles against my skin as he sit up and looks at me like a kid who’s been told there’s candy.

The warmth of the moment muffles the biting cold, and for now, just for this moment, it’s more than enough.

_____________________________________________________________

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[yuukirita]

I was reading Baby Bee's adventures in the multiverse again, I need Elita, Megs and Op from Earthspark to have a moment with him! I need angst and someone to have a complete mental breakdown.

It might also be nice to see them spend some time with the Terrans, he's almost the same size as Trash and he's just a baby!

... yeah yeah that seem good.

---

A sight

It was quite a sight, for those that knew what they were looking at. Not many beings still had the option so say they did.

Optimus did. Optimus knew that the young bot, who shared Bumblebee's colour, was a Cybertronian sparkling. How? How could it be? This. Here and now. It should be impossible.

He'd been sent with Elita-One and Megatron by G.H.O.S.T. to investigate a weird energy flux in the woods near Witwicky. They expected trouble. 

They'd split up to cover more ground, his partners minutes from his location just in case. Then he saw it. A portal. With no structure to support it, it clearly was unstable- and Optimus couldn't say he ever saw a portal that looked this way before. It felt Alien.

He opened his comm as he inspected it, looking for tracks of anything that might have come out of it. "Optimus to Team, I believe I've found the energy disturbance. No hostiles in sight, but be careful-”

He was cut off as the portal shifted, extending and stretching. Optimus raised his axe, on guard. It wobbled before it spat a small yellow ball into the ground before collapsing onto itself and disappearing with a clean ‘pop’. 

The Autobot leader didn’t lower his guard, never one to underestimate an inconspicuous creature in this kind of scenario. He stayed calm and ready, knowing that his team would reach him soon. 

He watched the Yellow sparkling groan and clumsily get up from where he'd fallen face first- He dusted himself off and looked around. Even then, Optimus didn’t lower his guard, this time not out of suspicion but from shock. 

“Weird nature stuff… everywhere… ew, I swallowed some.” Said the sparkling in soft Cybertronian, hitting his heels together to let out wheels under his feet. Rolling forward as he started exploring further- 

BabyBee squeaked out when he saw Optimus just standing there, hidden by the tall trees, illuminated by the glow of his still raised axe, looking quite intimidating. 

The small cry snapped Optimus out of it and he immediately put the axe away, lowered his mask and raised his arms to seem non-threatening, hoping the gesture would be understood while searching his processor for Cybertronian speech-  it’d been so long-

He didn’t have time to say anything before A spark of recognition lit up the sparkling’s optics “Optimus!” The young bot rolled forward, smiling- then stopped. He squinted at Optimus and his shoulders slumped “Not my Optimus…” 

Optimus, externally keeping his cool but internally having his mind blown that one: he was seeing a sparkling. two: that sparkling was just spat out a portal. And Tree: that sparkling KNEW HIS NAME- or at least mistaken him for someone with the same name- it- it was a lot. Optimus kneeled down as much as he could, speaking in Cybertronian “Hello, young one- em… I am Optimus Prime.”

The sparkling didn’t feel distressed or anxious- and Optimus intended to keep it this way. Which is why he wasn’t scooping up the young bot despite how much he felt the need to do so to check on him. 

“I know… But you’re not MY Optimus Prime…” The young bot pouted and kicked the dirt, making his wheel roll in the air, defeated. “Again.” 

The leader felt tears in his eyes, simply because he was seeing a part of Cybertron’s lost history- or perhaps not *his* Cybertron’s lost history. 

BabyBee noticed this Version of his friend tearing up and he froze, blinked and quickly rolled to his leg to comfort him. “Ey- it’s okay. Sorry I said you’re not my Optimus! We can still be friends! I’m B-127- My friends call me Bee! You can call me Bee!” 

Optimus winced when he felt babybee's tiny hands tap his leg. He’d kept it together when Twitch and Trash were revealed to him- but this was apparently his tipping point. 

He whipped his tears away as he scrambled himself back together “Do not apologies, young Bee. I am simply- processing emotions.” He looked down to look at the sparkling, B-127 he said his name was- sharing the number with his scout could not be a coincidence “May I pick you up?” He offered his hand for him to step onto.

 BabyBee didn't think twice before hopping on “Yeah! You can check me over. I’m not hurt or anything if you’re worried about that.” Optimus "How could this be?" He whispered as he checked the sparkling over- he hadn't seen a sparkling in... eons. The memories of them are practically lost to the newer generations. 

BabyBee let himself be examined, after a few dimensional jumps he learned that 'inspecting sparkling to make sure he's okay' to be a... pretty much universal reaction to most Optimus Prime he’d met. “Well. You know what a space bridge is?” Optimus nodded “Well- that. But gone wrong-”  

His explanation was cut short when Megatron and Elita entered the scene. 

On reflex, he closed his hands around the sparkling to hide it from Megatron’s view- an old distrust resurfacing as it often did. A distrust he felt ashamed he couldn’t let go of. 

“Optimus, everything alright? You got cut off-” His old friend spoke calmly as Elita one surveyed the surroundings. 

“Ey- What’s that about???” BabyBee’s voice came muffled from his newfound prison “RUDE!” 

Elita picked up on the muffled Cybertronian and lowered her guard after finding the area was clear. “Prime, What’s this?” 

BabyBee kept tapping at his fingers as the Prime failed to come up with an answer. “em… One moment.” He turned away from his allies and opened his hands, whispering to the sparkling “Sorry young one, My friends arrived and I… didn’t want you to panic.” Because Megatron was there. And if this Sparkling was from another Cybertron then… “Megatron and Elita-One are my friends- do you know them too?”

 He gave a slight awkward smile looking back at his friends, who were curiously standing there, letting him do his thing and trying to catch what he was saying. 

“You guys are FRIENDS?!” The small bot exclaimed, shocked. 

Optimus sighed, saddened that other versions of them were still enemies. “Yes, friends and trusted allies so you can believe me that my Megatron will means you no harm-” 

“THIS IS AWESOME!” The little Bee exclaimed with joy. He skillfully ran up Optimus’s arm to climb up his shoulder before Optimus could stop him- his little blue optics landed on Megatron, unafraid and unbothered “WE’RE FRIENDS!” He gestured towards the old war criminal to come closer- then seeing Elita, he did the same gesture towards her. 

Megatron blanched and took a step back “Is that a-” 

Elita-One similarly froze up, simply staring. 

Optimus picked up BabyBee from his shoulder to turn and walk a bit closer to his allies- “Sparkling… Yes.”

End part one of 3

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION: SHADOWCUTE, EGALITATION DU DROW, THE MAN WHO HAS NEVER HAD A COLD AND PROMISES OF FROTTING.

ALL I CAN DO FOR TONIGHT FOLKS, but I might end up doing another compilation very soon since the inbox situation is dire 💀

Thank you so much for showing so much interest in my character and my art! And an extra especial Thank You as always to anyone who has taken the time to leave a nice compliment or words of encouragement in my mail!

Now, onto the debauchery.

Surprisingly, no! While they may have been stuck at the hip since the early game, DU drow most definitely wasn't interested in becoming intimately involved with anyone at that stage - having lost all of his memories and seemingly kidnapped by mindflayers and all, he was a little on edge. Besides, Shadowheart struck him as rather juvenile in the earlier game, which kind of erased any possibility of his interest in her growing. By the time she """matures""" in DU drow's eyes he was already locked in with Astarion, and their friendship was also firmly established.

He did not. I think if he had been more observant as a Bhaalist he could have put two-and-two together - but he was far too self absorbed for that. He is under the impression that Helena (Orin's mother) had a divine pregnancy.

Besides women more often falling into a category that he is sexually attracted to (which doesn't affect his treatment of them by much either as long as he and Astarion are together, he may just steal a glance down their shirt or something) not really!

He has specific prejudices about women from the drow race for the same reasons everyone else has, but otherwise sex or gender doesn't impact his views. The one exception I can think of that may apply here is that he has a slight soft spot for mothers.

And don't worry, your english is perfectly fine!

Hello! I have gotten an ask about this before where I went much more in-depth, but I can't find it right now. The TLDR is that he doesn't care as long as you can still "pull your weight" outside of whatever the disability is. How reasonable his expectations are vary on how much he likes the person in question, but generally speaking he doesn't care and this would be something that bears much less weight than race or attitude - if they don't make it into a problem, he just won't bring it up.

He does have a vile sense of humor though; that might come up if he's trying to hurt someone's pride or, ironically, has built enough of a rapport with that he's comfortable joking around about such things with them.

Have a great day yourself!

I don't think there is anything wrong with relating to fictional characters, even if they are profoundly flawed or even straight up evil. Hopefully that's a vehicle for self-examination and introspection - after all, we are all flawed ourselves.

Honestly it is very hard for me to picture him old, at least in the conventional sense.

Truthfully, I am preeeeetty settled on DU drow being an immortal being at this point. I think it makes sense that Bhaal would have just stopped his aging at some point so he can be at peak performance while following through with his bidding, and that just seems to make sense to me based on prior BG lore. He changes over-time in other ways that I most certainly plan on drawing, but it might take a while for me to get there!

LOL, I think he retained knowledge of illness and disease just fine, so if he were to come down with something he wouldn't panic - probably quite the opposite. He strikes me as the kind of guy who wouldn't walk into a hospital unless a limb was dangling off by an artery - and even then, his friends probably had to insist he went.

Luckily he must has the immune system of vulture after so many years of eating half-cooked wild animals and rolling around in the cold dirt, so he very rarely contracts disease. When he does, he likely just tries his best to hide it or dismiss the concerns of anyone around him about it.

I'm glad to hear that! I remember being concerned that DU drow's scars may get read as rather exploitative or disrespectful when my art first started getting traction - I'm relieved that not only that seems to never have happened, but that people like yourself can actually gain some self-confidence from it!

Listen now that I know that there is an audience for it -

I'm not sure how I feel about simply making a book with art that already exists online and charging people money for it - especially when I have prints for sale that are most definitely of better quality than a zine and can actually serve to decorate your home! But I suppose if an opportunity like that popped up and it made sense, I don't see why not!

Oh he hates her guts, LOL. He would respect The Hag Grind for the pure comedy of it if she weren't so disgusting to look at or so unpleasant to talk to. He's particularly irate at her during act 3 when she tries to trick him into killing that little girl's mother, since he almost follows through with it (one of my few moments of lore save-scumming because I felt like SUCH an idiot).

He definitely didn't take up on her offer in act 1 for the failed tadpole treatment!

And as a bonus, here are some Viscious Mockery inspired taunts Ethel definitely bombarded him with during every fight.

[sal-absinthii]

It is frustrating when people make a show about how open-minded they are but then apply it inconsistently

That being said, I would still have an issue with it even if they weren't also being hypocrites about it, for the same reason the entire ~body positivity~ thing went so off the rails when it started getting flattened into "everyone's beautiful!" (which, I'm sorry, but it's just not true -- beautiful is a relative descriptor indicating that something has more beauty than another and by definition cannot all be equal; what an individual considers beautiful can certainly be very different from another individual's idea of beauty, and it's true that no matter what a person looks like, there is probably someone out there who thinks that is the height of beauty, but that does not mean everyone is obligated to find everything and everyone beautiful) when it was supposed to be "your worth as a person doesn't change based on how many people consider you beautiful."

I know there are people in the fandom who get extremely upset when Snape is called ugly, and insist that he's actually very attractive. Now, that is entirely subjective and they are perfectly free to consider him attractive. However, I have a problem with this weird knee jerk reaction some of them have about it where no one else is allowed to think he's ugly. Whether or not you personally have conventional tastes, he is not described as being conventionally attractive, and I think it's important to be ok with that as well, to accept that how he looks definitely causes people to judge him, but that it doesn't actually say anything about him as a person. And to that end, I don't think there needs to be a reason why his hair is greasy or his teeth are crooked or whatever. It's possible he has some skin condition, it's possible he has sensory issues...but something rubs me wrong about the line of thinking that involves finding some "excuse" (especially when there's absolutely nothing remotely in canon about it) as to why he's "allowed" to look a certain way, because the unspoken implication is still that appearance matters, and he gets a pass because of some special circumstance, and that if he is actually just a regular neurotypical straight white man without any other issues it would not be acceptable, and it's only acceptable as long as we can come up with a reason. You are actually allowed to think that something is unattractive regardless of why (biology, aesthetic or cultural choice, situation, condition, etc) and you are not obligated to defend that, at the same time, you probably shouldn't be going around bullying people for features beyond their control whether you know the reason or not. I dunno, this just gets into a lot of identity politics issues I find very fucked up about Tumblr.

I know the point of this post was about the hypocrisy and not whether Snape's good-looking or not and I fully agree with that. I just additionally think that those people's fundamental premise of "everyone's beautiful! uwu" is itself missing the real point and I am strongly on team Let People Be Ugly.

I love how the Marauders fandom is like everybody is perfect the way they are, they can be black, brown, white, fat, skinny, tall, short, everyone is pretty. Except Snape, no no no, he cannot be pretty, he has greasy hair, you cannot be pretty with greasy hair

[raayllum]

Is there like‚ some kind of symbolism of Claudia fixing Callum's hair VS Rayla lovely touching it?

There's probably a whole mini meta just waiting in TDP about hair (how Soren parts his hair switching post-timeskip to reflect how he's literally switched sides; Claudia's moon symbolism hair, which I do have a meta for in my drafts rn) so to put it simply: yes, I think so!

Claudia cares a lot about appearances. This ties into how much she hates feeling judged ("you're doing it again prince judy-face!" / "here to judge me, captain true heart?"). She values things looking put together, largely because she puts more emphasis on things being Physically okay rather than considering someone's emotional state (i.e. overruling Viren and Soren in S2 and S4 respectively). We see this overtly in "Lost Child":

“You’re still here. Even though I’m…” She gestured at herself, to something beyond the soil-soaked boots and tearstained face: a total mess. [...] A moment later, she blinked into the pond; her reflection beamed up at her. Her eyes brighter, her face fuller, more color in her cheeks. Small changes, but still—There I am, she thought.

We also see this in show canon. She checks with the little leaf-cub creature in 6x04 that her new haircut suits her. She also reflects that maybe seeing the creature as parts is bad, implicitly, because the creature is so cute/adorable. (This is in stark contrast to Ezran who reflects a season earlier in 5x06 that sea slugs may look gross, but they have a rich inner life and he's regularly made friends with them. Post with that comparison here)

Another consistent facet of Claudia is that her compliments are sometimes not entirely compliments. This happens just once with Terry ("Claudia says that makes me weird, and wonderful, so...") as she more readily compliments him ("you saved the day!" / "goofy and glorious just like you!"), but it happens basically any of the few times she compliments/offers praise etc. to Callum in any manner.

It was completely ridiculous. Adorable. Did you just say adorable? Did I? (1x02)

That was very confident Callum. Oh, thanks. Even if your hair's a little messy. (2x02)

You didn't open it? Why would I do that? [The letter] is for you. Though I could've easily opened it and then resealed it with magic. Did you? Did I? We may never know. But no. No.

Yeah, you always were a very clever human, weren't you, Callum? (4x08)

Impressive, Callum. Somehow you learned primal magic. But dark magic will always have the edge. (7x07)

(AKA she giveth and she taketh away.)

So Claudia fixes Callum's hair. She compliments him, but also makes him more nervous. She adjusts his appearance to something she thinks is 'better' (cleaner). Absolutely none of it is malicious, but it does reaffirm that when crushing on her Callum never felt entirely comfortable around her despite being longtime friends, whereas even though Rayla can be much gruffer, Callum feels a lot more comfortable around her (even once he develops feelings) in general.

So there's the obvious level of comfort (Rayla) vs non-comfort (Claudia), as well as a longstanding childhood crush vs what has blossomed into more mature, enduring love of 3+ years as of the end of 7x09.

Claudia sees that his hair is messy and points it out; Rayla sees that his hair is messy and quietly fixes it herself, doing so simply and leaving Callum looking more relaxed than before, rather than less like in 2x02.

Rayla, as we know, doesn't really care about appearances. She routinely doesn't care about titles, she goes with what her gut tells her, and anytime she expresses distress over her appearance ("I'm a mess") it's scaffolded under "I'm showing weakness" rather "I look bad". There's a similar fear of judgement lurking underneath as Claudia's, but I don't think Rayla sees herself as a Good Person the same Claudia does, and therefore doesn't have the need to keep seeing herself that way in the same manner.

Either way, Callum is always Callum to her ("You're so gross" with a fond smile on her face; his scarf is smelly and he knows it and just smirks at her over it; "you're a good person, Callum, maybe the goodest," etc), and always her Callum — her heart, her home, her best friend and partner — and that's what the 7x09 scene is ultimately about, I think.

Do me the honour of letting me talk a bit about hair-touching and white streaks, though, for a second, when it comes to Claudia, Terry, Callum, and Rayla.

Because despite Claudia and Terry being very touchy-feely for 3.5/4 seasons, Terry never once touches Claudia's hair in quite the same manner or framing that we see in 7x09. He touches her hair, sure — he braids it for her and then later cuts it — but this is the closest we get to an adjustment, which is when he's bathing her and cleaning her up in 6x03.

Now, pushing the white hair and all its associations to get to Claudia, flesh and blood and very much still alive, underneath would be ripe enough as a symbolic examination, honestly. The reason why this feels so different to me than 7x09, I think then, is that there are two scenes 7x09 mirrors when it comes to someone touching Claudia's hair in the "facing the camera, strands on the face/cheek" directly shot.

And it's herself.

SOREN: You saw what Dad turned Kasef into. What Dad turned into. Claudia, you're changing too. (3x07)

CLAUDIA: But... I'm still nice. I'm still me. (7x09)

In both instances, she's not willing to admit that Soren is right / that she's changed (or, arguably, that she needs to change just in the opposite direction). She touches it first as a sign of shame in the face of her brother's words, the first white streak in her dark hair. Then she touches one of the few dark streaks that remain, reassuring herself (because nobody else will or can at this point) that she's still the person she thinks of herself as, someone who's still nice ('good').

Callum, meanwhile, never touches his white streak. He wakes Rayla up in the middle of the night (which she takes much better than I would, I can say that much) and offers his scarf, asking if she trusts him. But Rayla notices his hair is a little askew, so she tidies it for him. And the whole time, his expression is completely open, smiling and trusting her in turn... even when she hasn't actually answered his question yet, and his expression softens even before she has too.

She doesn't tuck or hide it away. It's a part of him, and therefore a part she loves ("Everything"). And he knows it.

[yingdu-lover]

We should really be more empathetic to Lu Guang from every perspective

Started my proper season 1 re-watch just now and suddenly I realised something.

Every time Lu Guang repeats his rules to Cheng Xiaoshi or he reminds him while the latter is diving, there is something in his voice (I felt it personally) that tells me he also repeats to himself (It is same as him repeating "I am okay" in Yingdu ep 1, but this is more cruel) It is not a question of hypocrisy, rather its Lu Guang implicitly trying to remind Cheng Xiaoshi that "Do not change the timeline, do not change the past, I can't let you suffer the same fate as me. I cannot, by any chance, let you face the consequences. Let it only be me who bears the sin. I can't afford YOU to suffer."

Before someone says that Cheng Xiaoshi suffers in every episode one way or another, let me tell you, it is still better than the situation Lu Guang is in. Remember, season 1 Cheng Xiaoshi is our Yingdu Cheng Xiaoshi. It's needless to say how much Cheng Xiaoshi cares for Lu Guang.

Cheng Xiaoshi getting suicidal/angry with Lu Guang because of the secrets Lu Guang kept from him is a popular theory. But...what if it's the other way around? What if Cheng Xiaoshi actually feels guilty because it was his past self for whom Lu Guang actually had to dive back ("Sorry, Lu Guang, save them"), leading to this painful fate. It is, in a sense, Cheng Xiaoshi's fault. Cheng Xiaoshi is capable of this reasoning.

And Lu Guang...every time he utters the rules (just put yourself in his shoes. How terrifying is that? Past or future let them be. Bro someone's whole existence can't be hypocrisy that's called existential crisis) he dies a little inside. As Lu Guang confesses in the beginning of Yingdu, he doesn't know how the timeline works. It's not his elaborate plan. He is taking actions carefully, one by one. One incident decides his next action. Lu Guang has been hurting since the first episode, I could feel it before, now we have canon to prove it.

Lu Guang's voice actor while asked about his favourite line stated that it's those three rules in Yingdu ep 5. "Past or future let them be" is a rule meant to be broken. In a time travel story, if they do not break the rules, I don't think the predetermined future can even be achieved. Lu Guang always lives with the ghost of the past or the anxiety of the future, but never in the present. It breaks my heart really.

Another thing I want to say. Um. Cheng Xiaoshi doesn't really inherit the very core emotions of his hosts (means he pretty much acts on his own). At least this is the impression till now. He goes berserk in those cases where he is the son/daughter/student figure. Where his own overwhelming abandonment issues (due to parental trauma) overpower his host's personal emotions.

1. Emma's case : The reason Cheng Xiaoshi can't let go of Emma's death is because Emma's happy ending would have given him a solace. The happy ending he could not have with his own parents, he wanted to make sure that someone else gets it. Emma fits that figure. Emma would not leave that of a heavy impression on him if Cheng Xiaoshi didn't talk to Emma's parents. (For example, Cheng Xiaoshi didn't care for a second in Vivian's case and fled the place asap with Lu Guang. His priority was to protect Lu Guang. Vivian offered him a choice and for Cheng Xiaoshi, Lu Guang's safety comes first. If Cheng Xiaoshi dived into Vivian and had her parental issues experienced first hand, the arc would have been totally different.

2. Earthquake episode : Well... again. The mother figure. Cheng Xiaoshi again dreams of his mother. He wanted to save the client's mother to get one part solace for himself (I completely understand him. It is human to do. I would have gone more insane). The way he was pleading to Lu Guang to let him save her, I don't think Cheng Xiaoshi was in a state of mind to listen. Cheng Xiaoshi is also traumatised. Not all action he takes is rational (especially if the host is the 'child' figure having parental trauma). Lu Guang knew that he couldn't reason with a man who was functioning on a trauma response. He was ready for the consequences and calmly explained to Cheng Xiaoshi during the Doudou episode.

3. Wang Qing : Welp. Yeah. It was probably 90% him and 10% Wang Qing at that point. While meeting Cheng Weimin.

The very photo which was enough to traumatize Li Tianxi and inherit Lu Guang's one of the most traumatic memories (Cheng Xiaoshi's death) and which got transferred to Qiao Ling was the photo T A K E N B Y C H E N G X I A O S H I W H I L E H E W A S D I V I N G I N T O L U G U A N G' S B O D Y H U H

bro tf.

Cheng Xiaoshi didn't inherit shit. He dived twice into Lu Guang. I don't think inheriting core memories/emotions is his department. OR

Cheng Xiaoshi is way smarter than we think and Link Click intentionally left us with a narrative gap. Many things can happen so..

[letmebeyourcrrsh]

pretty good team

college!minho x reader

warnings: none or jyp mentioned

genre: college crush

summary: you have a crush on lee minho..the guy who doesnt even know you exits. and one day, your weird teacher blessed you with you being in the same group as lee know..

the bell rang loudly, signaling the start of another day in your college. as you walked into the classroom, you could feel the usual rush of nerves and excitement. you had been trying to keep your head down and focus on your studies, but there was one thing that was always on your mind—minho.

lee minho, the guy who always seemed to glide through the hallways with his mischievous smile and effortless charm. you’d always notice him, but there was no reason for him to even know your name. you were just another face in the crowd.

that was until your teacher, Mr. J. Y. Park, announced the new project assignment.

"alright, everyone," he said, eyes scanning the class. "we’re going to do group projects for the next few weeks. i’ll be assigning partners randomly."

your heart pounded in your chest. group projects were always awkward, especially when you were paired with someone you didn’t know well. but you never expected to hear the name "lee minho" called alongside yours.

" group 2 with felix, Y/N, minho and chan. " the teacher said.

you stared at the teacher for a moment. minho? THE minho? the guy who took over your mind, even tho THE minho does not know about your existence? your stomach flipped as a wave of panic washed over you. you were never the type to engage with someone like him. you knew he was out of your league.

but there was no way to escape this.

when the class ended, you made your way to the designated meeting spot, that one of minhos friends told you to go to—the campus coffee shop. you arrived early, hoping to just blend into the background and let the others do the talking.

then when minho walked in, your heart started to have a race. he walked towards the table with a casual smile, high fiving his two friends and giving you a polite nod as he sat down.

“hey,” he greeted, his voice low but friendly. “you’re Y/N, right?”

you nodded nervously, feeling your cheeks heat up. “y-yeeeeah! you know my name?. ah- I mean.. nice to meet you.!”

what was that.? you made such a traumatized face expressions.. you tried to act all cool and unbothered, but made yourself sound like a fool.

felix giggled. by his eyes you could tell that it was not in a bad way… and minho. he smiled, his expression warm and approachable. “ofcourse I know your name- afterall we are in the same class.. nice to meet you too tho.”

you laughed nervously, trying to hide your embarrassement. trying to relax and stop to worry.

after a few more minutes of talking, and a few more minutes of you fighting to not stare and admire minhos beauty like a creep, you all got to work. minho quickly took the lead, suggesting stuff and delegating them with ease. he wasn’t bossy, though—just confident, making everyone feel like their ideas mattered. you were surprised by how easy it was to work with him.

throughout the first hour, you found yourself slowly relaxing. the boys made you feel comfortable. not only did you work on the project, but also joked around and had fun! it was truly feeling good being with them three. and minho…you’d catch his gaze a few times.. and when he smiled at you, it wasn’t in a flirty way—it was warm, like he just enjoyed being around you.

as the meeting came to the end, minho looked over at you. “if you ever need help with anything, don’t hesitate to ask. i am pretty good so I can help, if you need it.”

your heart skipped a beat. was he... offering to help you? the minho?

“thanks- I appreciate it,” you said, trying to sound casual, though you could feel your face burning. “i’ll keep that in mind.”

over the next couple of weeks, the project became the reason that got you two a lot closer. minho would send you messages, checking in on the progress, sharing more ideas for the project, and sometimes—just talking. at first, the conversations were about school, but soon, they drifted to more personal topics. you found out that minho is a huge softie for cats..  something you never expected from him. you thought hes way to serious for that. he is also such a talented guy, when it comes to dancing! minho is a lot more interesting than you ever imagined.

he really proofed that he is kind, and a little bit of a nerd when it came to things he loves. the more you got to know him, the more you realized how easy it was to talk to him.

one afternoon, while working on the project in the library, minho looked up from his laptop and met your eyes. for a moment, neither of you said anything. you just stared at each other, making the two other boys feel like they are witnessing some sort of kdrama.

“you’re really easy to talk to,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. “I feel like we just click.”

your heart skipped. that was random… but minho be a very random guy like that “huh-? I thought I was awkward around you.”

minho chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “nah, you’re fine. I like hanging out with you. plus, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I think that’s why the project’s been going so well.”

you smiled shyly, not sure what to say. he had no idea how much those words meant to you. minho is a pretty popular guy in college, always surrounded by people, always the center of attention. yet here he was, complimenting you.

as the project neared its end, the two of you spent more time together, both working and chatting. the distance between you had shrunk from awkward strangers to a very comfortable friendship. you weren’t sure when it had happened, but at some point, you found yourself looking forward to his messages, his smile, the way he made you feel heard and understood.

and when the day of the presentation came, Minho gave you an encouraging smile before you walked to the front of the class.

“you’ve got this,” he said softly. then looking at the other two boys “we’ve got this.”

your nerves settled, and for the first time, you felt like you were standing on equal ground with him. minho wasn’t some unreachable figure anymore. he was a friend.

as the class applauded after your presentation, minho’s eyes met yours, and he gave you that signature smile that always made your heart flutter.

“you did great,” he said with a grin. “we make a pretty good team.”

a pretty good team…

ahhh i had to end it like this because i wanna make it all lovely in the next part!

anyways i hoped you liked it :)

ill write part 2 when this hits 100 notes

[butlervibesonly]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 |PART THREE| Wil Ohmsford

• Summary: Things are going well between you and Wil… But he has one certain nightmare. That you will leave. And so afraid are you. Will you stay? Or will you leave?

• Pairing: Wil Ohmsford x human! reader

• Warnings: maybe a little bit of angst, kissing, typos

• Note: HERE I AAAAM! I am starting with another Wil part! I think I will make 4th one, and that would be the last one! Enjoyyyy!🫶🏼

The fire crackles between you, filling the silence with warmth. You find yourself tucked in the blanket, staring into the flickering flames, the words still balancing on the edge of your tongue.

You’ve already admitted to Wil so much. But there’s still more—so much more you’ve never said aloud. And Wil? He’s watching you, waiting for you to talk whenever you’re ready. Not pressuring, not demanding. Just waiting for your comfort to confess.

“I was supposed to marry someone I barely knew,” you say from sudden, breaking the silence. “A man chosen for me. How naive, huh? A ‘good match,’ they said… He was wealthy. And he didn’t love me. All that my father cared about was money, and not the future of his own daughter.”

Wil’s gaze sharpens, his jaw clenching. He doesn’t speak, but you can feel his silent reaction. The way his position straightens, the way he curl his fingers into fists. Almost as if he can’t imagine you with another man.

“I was just so tired of it. So tired that I felt like my father’s toy,” you continue, the flashbacks pushing down on you. “I wanted something more. To choose for myself. So I ran away. And for the first time in my life, I am free.” You let out a small, breathless laugh.

Wil nods, and gazes at you. When he does, he speaks, his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it. “I understand.” You glance at him, surprised. His gaze drifts to the fire, his expression distant. “I wasn’t always a healer.” he starts. “My both parents died. My father died and no longer after my mom got sick and died too. I wanted to save her but… I couldn’t.” You watch as his fingers fidget together.

“I regret I couldn’t help her more. But that set me on my way to learn about healing.” His eyes flicker toward you. “So I was also lonely. Until I met you.”

The realization settles between you like an unspoken truth. You two are different, and yet the same. Both of you are looking for someone to escape the loneliness and empty feeling in hearts with. And now, by some twist of fate, you’ve found each other...

Wil watches you, his expression sympathetic, but there’s something in his gaze that wasn’t there before. Something deeper. It’s not just protectiveness anymore. It’s not just concern.

“Do you regret it?” he asks. “Leaving?” Your eyes stay locked on his for a long moment before you answer honestly. “No.” you say confidently. “I found something better.” The corners of his lips hooks up — the smile you love so much.

You two look at each other with such an amusement. The firelight flickers between you and the world feels smaller now. It’s just the two of you, caught in this moment, realizing something neither of you were prepared for. Maybe you weren’t just meant to escape your pasts. Maybe you were meant to find each other?

Neither you nor Wil say anything. The silence between you is loud, thick with something unspoken. You should look away. You should say something to break the deadly silence. But you don’t.

You can see the way he’s looking at you. With such a softness. His hair flows gently as the evening breeze moves around. And his pointy ears are pinky almost as if they are blushing. Your heart pounds against your ribs so hard.

The way he’s looking at you now is different. He’s always been careful. But this is something else. This is the gaze of a man who is seeing you in a way he never allowed himself to before. And you can’t seem to breathe.

Wil’s fingers slowly reach to you. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch light, but the warmth of it spreads through your whole body. His hand doesn’t pull right away. Instead his fingers brush against your jaw, his thumb stroking over your cheek.

Your gaze shifts from his blue eyes to bis full pink lips. Wil looks like he is about to press his lips into yours. As if he is about to kiss you. And God… you want him to. His eyes flicker down to your lips, just for a second.

Your breath stutters in your throat. Wil leans in just enough slightly. The world slows, your pulse loud enough in your ears. You want to kiss him. To meet him halfway. When you find the confidence to look him into the eyes again — he hesitates.

Wil’s jaw tightens, something conflicted flashing through his expression. He doesn’t know if this is the right thing to do. Maybe it’s too early… maybe this is not what you want. But you prove him otherwise. Your hand lands on his. “Don’t hesitate, Wil,” you whisper.

His gaze snaps back to yours, searching, as if waiting for you to take it back. As if you don’t really mean it. And the he leans again, cupping your cheek with one hand. This time, he doesn’t stop.

His lips brush against yours, the touch so light it. He kisses you. It’s slow at first. Almost uncertain. As if he’s still trying to convince himself this is real. But when you don’t pull away, when you press closer and caress his face as well — it’s too good to be true.

The kiss deepens, slow and burning, stealing the breath from both of your lungs. Wil tastes like the herbal tea he made you earlier, like something you never knew you needed. When he finally pulls back, you’re both panting hard.

His forehead rests against yours, his hand still cradling your cheek, his thumb tracing slow, soft circles against your skin. “I should have done that sooner.” he sighs out softly.

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, still taken aback from what just happened. “Then why didn’t you, Wil?” For a long moment, he says nothing. But when he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Because I was afraid that once I start… I won’t be able to stop, Y/n.”

His words lingers through you as something indescribable. You can’t help but smile. But there is still something in the way he says it. You can’t tell if it is hesitation or anything else.

You slowly brush your fingers over the back of his hand where it still cradles your face. He doesn’t move away. He doesn’t want to let you go. “And do you want to stop?” Your voice is barely a whisper.

You feel his breath against your skin. For a moment, he doesn’t answer. But you don’t need him to. You see it in his eyes. You finally see the answer to what has been so unspoken.

When Wil finally pulls back just enough to look at you, his gaze is soft, searching for a reason to say “yes”.

“No,” he murmurs. “No, I don’t.” Butterflies explodes in your belly. Wil lifts his other hand to, his caress your cheek again, trailing down to your jaw. His thumb brushes the corner of your lips like he’s memorizing the shape of you.

Wil leans closer and presses his lips to your forehead, then your temple, your cheek… He is kissing your face almost too softly. As if he’s trying to tell you something without words. When he rests his forehead against yours again, his voice is quiet. “I like you , Y/n.”

The words repeat in your mind. I like you, Y/n. He likes you. Wil likes you. Before you can say anything, Wil’s lips presses against your forehead again, lingering there for a while.

The words still hang between you, fragile yet impossible to take back. Wil shifts slightly, his fingers lacing with yours, and you can feel the tension in his body. Like he’s still trying to process everything, still figuring out what this means.

A small, tired smile appears at your lips. “You look like you’re thinking too much, aren’t you?” Wil chuckles and shakes his head, exhaling. “I probably am…”

You smile at his response, loving the playful banter you created. “You always seem to do.” you grin at your response. “But I don’t want you to overthink this.”

His expression shifts, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s about to say something. But instead, he sighs and gives you a small, tired smile. “Come on, you need to rest.” he says, squeezing your hand gently.

You don’t argue and nod. Your body is still weary from everything and you couldn’t be happier that you have a place to stay at. And especially someone to stay with. Wil helps you to walk and you enter his hut — that is of course filled with the smell of herbs and wood.

As you both reach the bed this time neither of you hesitate to lay there together. Wil slides in the bed beside you and when you snuggle closer, he doesn’t pull away.

The warmth of his body is comfy and cozy. You can hear the slow sounds of his breathing, feeling the way his body remains slightly tens. As if he’s still adjusting to you. “You’re overthinking again…” you murmur into the silence, your eyes already heavy with sleep.

His chest rises with a quiet laugh. “I can’t help it.” He hum in response, feeling your body sinking into the warmth of the blankets. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now.” you whisper. “Just be here. With me.”

He’s quiet for a long moment. When he finally finds enough of courage you feel his arm shift, hesitating just before his hand settles lightly against your back. “I am.”

Everything is quiet around you, the soft crackle of the dying fire is the only sound you can hear. And his breathing. Wil’s bed is warm, the blankets cozy and comforting, and his presence beside you is even comfier.

You both think that sleep will take over your body. But it’s not really the truth. Even if you don’t see Wil’s face, you can say he is awake. Because his fingers are trailing soft soothing patterns on your back.

Your body feels heavy with exhaustion, but you feel like it would be pity to fall asleep now. You can tell he’s still awake, too, his mind occupied with many thoughts — just like yours.

After a moment, you shift slightly, just enough to glance at him in the last flames firelight. “Do you always stay up this late?” you ask in a whisper.

Wil lets out a quiet laugh. “No, only when I have someone in my bed with me.” You let out a soft laugh, feeling blood boiling in your cheeks. “I’m not doing anything!” you murmur, teasing him. “You’re here. That’s enough.” he teases you back softly.

You turn onto your side, leaning your head on his shoulder, facing him properly now. His eyes meet yours, still watching you carefully, like he’s memorizing every detail of your face. A thought pops in your mind. You hesitate, then whisper, “Do you regret it?”

“Regret what?” Wil’s brow furrows. “Letting me stay.” you explain. For a moment, he says nothing. Then his hand moves slowly but surely, before resting lightly against your waist, just above the blankets. Almost like he is shielding you from the world.

“No,” he murmurs softly. “I don’t regret it.” The warmth of his touch lingers through you, sending a soft shiver through you. You smile, the words echoing in your mind. “Do you know what I’m thinking about?”

“Mhm?”

“I’m thinking about how strange this is.” you admit. Wil tilts his head slightly, trying to understand better. “Strange?” You nod and gently lay your hand on his chest. “That just a few days ago, you found me almost and nearly half-dead. And now… I’m here. With you. Alive and… happy.”

His thumb brushes against your waist. “Fate is strange like that.” You chuckle softly. “You believe in fate?” His fingers twitch slightly against your waist. “I didn’t. Not before.” Something about the way he says it makes your heart skip a beat.

You shift little closer, your head now resting against his chest. “I’m glad I found you,” you admit. “Or that you found me.” His hand tightens just slightly against your waist. “I’m glad too.”

You close your eyes and smile. And as sleep finally takes over you, you swear you feel the faintest press of his lips against the top of your head.

You sleep so soundly against him. Wil feels only your soft breathing against his skin. The body provides warmth against his. But even tho you are sleeping, he is still awake.

His eyes trace the every curve of your face, every little detail, your soft skin glistening in the last dim of fire, it turns your features shine golden. You look peaceful. Lashes resting against your cheeks, lips parted slightly in sleep as you let out soft breaths.

She trusts me, Wil thinks for himself. You have no reason to trust him. You barely know him… Only days have passed since he first carried you through his door. And yet still, you sleep here, pressed against his body, as if you belong here since forever.

Wil’s hand holds you know firmly on your waist. He is starting to believe you indeed do belong here. With him, by his side. He takes a deep breath. Wil is obviously feeling something he never felt before. Love.

Throughout his life, he has always been careful. He had let people into his life before, but never like this. Never this close. But with you it had never been a choice. It had happened before he could stop it. Before he even realized it was happening at all.

Your presence had filled the empty spaces in his life so effortlessly, so naturally, as if you have always been meant to be there. And who knows? Maybe you do belong here. He sighs slowly, afraid to wake you. But even in your slumber, you shift slightly, pressing your body closer to him.

Wil’s finger brush a loose strand of your hair, tucking it gently behind your ear. You don’t even stir, only sighs softly, feeling safe and warmth of his touch. His heart flutters at that act.

You are so fragile and so strong at once. And without even meaning to, you did something to Wil that he never saw coming. Wil actually spent so long thinking he was meant to be alone, but now? Now, the thought of you leaving, of waking up one day and finding you gone feels unreal.

Wil leans his head against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. His arms tighten just slightly around you, as if he doesn’t want to let you go. He’s never been the type to ask for things. Never allowed himself to want too much.

But this moment right here with you is more he ever wanted. More than he ever think he could get.

Wil wakes up with a smile on his lips, as he dreamed about what happened between the two of you. But a quick and sudden realization hits him. You are no longer in his arms. You are not in the bed at all.

Wil’s breath catches in his throat, as he gasps and is fully awake now. He searches for you in the bed. Something he was afraid of most is probably happening — attaching to you and you leave.

He exhales hardly, pushing the blanket from his body. He steps barefoot on the wooden floor, looking for you. You are not in the hut. “Y/n…” Wil breathes out, his voice shaky. You can’t be gone. This just can’t be true.

Wil opens the front door, rushing out. And there you are. You’re sitting on the bench, the soft morning light warming your body. In this moment a rock falls from Wil’s heart. He didn’t lost you. Not yet, at least. “You’re up.” you smile seeing him.

“Y-you weren’t there,” Wil breathes shakily. “I thought you left.” You look at him, eyes widening slightly. “I just needed some air.” Wil’s breath is still unsteady, but he nods, raking a hand through his hair. “You scared me.”

Your heart drops, knowing that he got scared when he couldn’t find you. “I didn’t mean to… Sorry.” You stand up, walking towards him. As you stop almost too close in front of him, you take his hands in yours. “Wil, I was thinking,” you smile. “You helped me. Basically saved my life. And I would like to repay you for that.”

Wil doesn’t hesitate and knows directly what to say. “The biggest repayment would be if you could stay with me.” The smile faints from your lips, and suddenly you feel as if all words lost your mind.

“Y/n, I don’t know how did this all happened… You managed to slip into my life so effortlessly, like you were always meant to be here, you know? It has only been few days, but I can’t remember what my life felt like before you anymore. I wake up, and you’re the first thing I look for. I hear your soft and caring voice, and it feels like home. You’ve filled the emptiness in my life. And the thought of you walking away… of waking up and you’re not by my side…. I don’t want to know what that would feel like. I don’t ever want to know.”

In two steps, he crosses the space between the two of you. Wil is now standing so close that you have to tilt your head up to look into his blue eyes. Wil's hands hover at his sides, eager to touch you, eager to pull you close, but he forces himself. "I didn't even have to say that," he mutters. "You already know."

You stare at him, eyes wide, lips parted. You feel like you don’t know how to breathe, how to process what he just said and let out a single word. And Wil? He can only watch you, his heart pounding so fiercely he even wonders if you can hear it.

You come close to him, slowly. Your hands reach for him, hesitant at first, then sure. Your fingertips grazing his wrist before curling around his forearm, almost like you need something to hold onto.

"You mean that?"Your voice is barely above a whisper, but there’s something desperate in it. “All of that?” Wil exhales shakily, his hand lifting to cup your face, his thumb tracing the soft curve of her cheek. "Of course I do, Y/n."

You lean into his soft touch, your eyes fluttering shut, as if memorizing the warmth of his hand against your skin. When you open your eyes again, something shifts. And that something is spark.

“Y’know, Wil, I was so afraid,” you admit, voice trembling. “Afraid I was imagining this. That I’d wake up and it wouldn’t be real. That I will have to leave.”

Wil’s blue eyes stare into yours like two brightest diamonds. His grip tightens just slightly, like he’s afraid to let you even move. “And do you want to?” Your fingers slide up his arm. “No.” You shake your head. “I want to stay.”

A heave feeling falls from his heart, like a relief slamming into his chest all at once. Wil’s forehead rests against yours, and you feel his breath just centimeters away.

“Then stay,” he murmurs, his voice almost pleading. “Stay with me, darling.” Darling… He called you darling. Your hands move to his shoulders, and you press your body into his. Your lips are almost against his. And gods, he’s lost under your spell.

Wil gathers himself before press his lips against yours. Deepening the kiss, one of his hands tangles in your hair, the other splayed against the small of your back. You’re clinging onto, like you’re afraid he might vanish, like you need to prove that this moment is real.

When the two of you finally part, you rest your forehead against his, still breathless from the kiss. Your arms hold him tightly, and so does his. Wil holds you against him, like you are the most precious thing. And in his eyes you so are.

“I will stay,” you whisper. “I’m yours.”

TAGLIST: @thefallofthedamned

[foundedroses]

-'🍷⁠*⁠.⁠✧ NSFW headcanons: Fyodor Dostoevsky!

W/C: 0.4K

C/W: smut, mentions of sex, bondage, dominate and submissive roles, cum, ect.

A/N: my favourite Russian rat— I’ve been having a rather significant brain rot of fyodor, so I decided to write these headcanons at 1 am. Believe it or not I actually wrote these down on paper before I typed them up on my computer lmao.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆⚰︎⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Taking his anaemia into consideration, this dude can’t go more than one round or even just two—if you’re lucky…

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 On the same topic; he ends up feeling hella light headed and fatigued afterwards—probably is the one to need aftercare instead lmao

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Okay, fyodor is most definitely dominate, no buts about it. There is no way in hell that I can see this bozo being submissive—well…maybe in some situations where he is feeling sort of lazy, just the would be allow his s/o to be on top, but I still think he’d be a controlling sub in this case.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Fyodors links are not too extreme— but still kinky none the less. He is into some light bandage—gets off seeing you helpless and completely at his mercy. Probably praises—not a lot, but sometimes.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Same subject as before, but he wants someone pure and untouched and is a virgin. I genuinely see this man finding it as a kink. (Also will probably wait till marriage to get down and dirty lol)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Fuodoe doesn’t really have a go to or favourite position, but definitely prefers to be the one on top half of the time (all thw time)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 I can’t see him being SUPER affectionate, but I do see him being traditional in a way if that makes sense.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 fucks with white lace, lingerie, you get the jist. Enjoys that pure and innocent aspect of the colour white

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Literal KING AT ORAL-- Good as hell with his tongue. He just knows all the right places. Also a actual master with his hands--can make you cum alone just with his fingers

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 I certainly believe that Fyodor has everything against voyeurism or any risks in being caught in the act--rather likes to have sex in the comfort of his own home, he knows nobody will catch the two of you

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 honestly a huge tease--loves to test your limits to be absolute max and just gets off to hearing you beg him pathetically to let you come

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 fyodor is not loud at all--but after all, he still human and he obviously have some sort of reaction to sex--his breathing gets faster and he does let out a few of grunts every now and then and when he's about to come

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 this bros sex drive is low as fuck--it would be in the negatives if that was even possible... dude is too busy half of the time to fuck--but if he is feeling nice (which is hardly ever), then he'll settle down for some private one on one time with you

[eulaliasims]

Round 4, Midwife 7 / 9

Elmet: Some of you may be wondering why I've gathered you here.

Norweni: I assumed you got in trouble again.

Xiang: The same.

Eisu: I didn't think that. It could be good news this time!

Elmet: Thank you, Eisu. Now, uh, Netty and I thought for a while what the best way to say this would be—

Norweni: Where is Helenet?

Elmet: I'm getting there! Anyway, we decided the simplest way was best. So, uh, there's a man we met who's been living in Veridia's woods secretly. And he could use help, and he could probably do with a few more friends too.

Norweni: What? Who is this?

Elmet: His name is Arturo. Netty's bringing him here. He's, uh… Eisu, do you remember the first time you saw me transform and how kind you were about it? Like it wasn't a big deal? I need you all to do that now. Like, I'm so serious.

Xiang: Another werewolf?

Elmet: Noooo…

Arturo: For the last time, little witch, the warding spell is for emergencies, not for you to summon me like it's a bell.

Helenet: You would make a poor woman in my condition walk all the way to the grove to fetch you? How cruel!

Arturo: I—that is not what I was saying, I simply—oh.

Arturo: I am not to be brought out to be gawked at like some party trick.

Elmet: Hey. That's not what's happening here.

Helenet: These people are our friends. Well, one of them is also Elmet's brother, but—Arturo, you lived alone for so long, wouldn't it be nice to be able to go amongst more people? I think it would be good for you.

Arturo: You have many opinions about what is good for me. Go amongst who, the villagers your wolf hides his true nature from? Are they even aware of your own talent?

Helenet: Ugh, you're worse than a child refusing to take his medicine—

Norweni: Fucking hell, you people are bad at introductions.

Norweni: I am Norweni, headwoman of this village. To my right is Liu Xiang, another of Veridia's warriors, and beside him is Eisu. And I take it you are Arturo.

Arturo: *sigh* Yes.

Xiang: You're one of the fae I've heard tales of here?

Arturo: No.

Elmet: It's a curse. Like mine, but, y'know, not the same.

Helenet: He's bound to the forest in some way.

Arturo: Oh, I understand now why this is happening. Little witch, you said you would leave it alone.

Helenet: And it was shockingly naive of you to believe me.

Norweni is definitely not as cool with this as her demeanor might suggest, and she drags Elmet off to the side to make her thoughts known.

Norweni: Elmet. How do you know you can trust this creature? Why have you invited him into your home?

Elmet: Uh, because we know him? Netty met him first, but we've both been spending time with him for ages. He's our friend. Trust me, he's not malicious. He is, secretly, a huge dork.

Norweni: That's.. not very reassuring. You seem to live to make problems for me, Elmet.

Elmet: Yeah, well, Eisu grew out of it, so someone has to.

Eisu: So…

Arturo: …

Eisu: Uh. Do you like pie? I'm baking a pie for dinner tonight.

Arturo: …Yes.

Eisu: Great!

[jiminrings]

PRESIDENT JAY EM RINGS PLEASEEEE I AM DANCING LIKE A COURT JESTER HERE PLEASEEEEEE PLEASE PLEASEEEEEE MATURE JEALOUS JK SNEAKIE PEEKIE PLEASEEEE

mature: the jealous sex drabble sneak peek

wherein you become a TA alongside yoongi, and jungkook has no choice but to prove his superiority in other ways

If you had to isolate one thing about Jungkook (just one, singular thing) that both annoys the living hell out of you and endears you to him to the point that it gets you closer, if that was even possible — it would be his inability to let go of things.

In his process of climbing up the ranks to become your boyfriend, Jungkook’s inability to let you distance yourself from him without getting into numerous fights and an incessant amount of groveling cemented him in your life in the first place.

He’s mouthy and nitpicky, yet he knows diligently when to shut up and just take it. He harnesses the perfect amount of stubbornness that would make you cave after several negotiations here and there, but never excessive to the point that you’d feel the need to post about him on Reddit with a seething heading of “my partner M27 pretends to faint in front of me every time I tell him I don’t want to cuddle”. 

(Jungkook isn’t even faking it.)

Jungkook knows that he’s not the go-to guy for a lot of practical things. He knows that he’s not the one you run to when you need to go over your reviewer for your oral exam that’s worth 70% of your grade, because that’s Yoongi’s place.

Jungkook’s there when you need to get your shirt ironed to perfection without any creases (even in the tricky part of the underarm-to-midline area), and he’s also there when you need someone to poke holes at your seemingly airtight presentation proposal. He is there, but it doesn’t mean he’s the best guy for the job.

Jungkook is and will be there for anything that you need, require, and desire of the world even, but he knows to himself that he can’t be utilized in the way you can bond with Yoongi.

(He hates that stupid, intellectual son of a bitch.)

Your boyfriend knows in his heart of hearts (he knows that it exists somehow and someway) that although he’s not the most optimal partner around for the technical, higher-process things that fill up your everyday life, he’s trying his best to catch up. Jungkook studies voluntarily now (70% to impress you and get you to call him your smart boy, and 50% to make an attempt at getting an above passing grade in all his classes) and even better than before, he loves listening to you.

Jungkook, your (occasionally smart) beloved, listens when you tell him about your day.

He listens and hums and replies when you tell him how tiring it is to be a TA, and how you’re simultaneously excited because it feels so fulfilling to be praised and approached.

He listens and laughs and his eyes twitch slightly when you tell him how fun it is to be a TA alongside Yoongi, because the both of you would have glowing recommendations after the gig and your superiors keep telling you that you’d probably end up at the same place of work after graduation.

He listens and smiles very tightly and squeezes his fists roughly against your pillows when you tell him how some juniors keep muttering that they want to have the uni experience of being smart and being a TA with their partners, supposedly like how you and Yoongi look to them.

Jungkook, a man of his word, will catch up to you.

Jungkook, a man of his word and an even bigger man of his overcompensation, will beat Yoongi.

“You know what they say about guys with big brains,” your boyfriend tuts out of nowhere, looking up from his laptop that only had Yoongi’s LinkedIn profile up for the past half hour while he stews in annoyance. “Really, really small dicks.”

“Where’d that come from?” you immediately snicker, looking up from your actual reviewer, putting your highlighter down to indulge Jungkook in what you’re sure of is just a random conversation.

Just a random conversation out of nowhere that’s totally not fueled by the jealousy he’s been harboring the past few weeks.

“I’m not citing my sources to you,” Jungkook huffs, closing his screen unceremoniously before crossing his arms, shaking his head slowly. “Such a shame about Yoongi.”

Now that you think about, you should’ve seen it coming from a mile away.

You should’ve been suspicious when it was Jungkook himself who asked how Yoongi did awhile ago with a shit-eating grin on his face, as if he’s just gathering all the pent-up frustration he has for the sake of being over with it.

You snort at the implication, the excitement of what could possibly be running in Jungkook’s mind slowly hitting you. “Well, I heard from a friend that he’s really end-…”

“Don’t give a fuck,” he rasps immediately, clicking his tongue. He doesn’t want to hear about what you heard about Y**ngi being well-endowed. He doesn’t want to hear anything but you.

“When you said that fun trivia,” you start, rolling your eyes playfully as you stand up from your desk, joining him on the bed. Jungkook doesn’t move an inch like he usually does to accommodate you; he just lies there, seeing you adjust to his strapping figure on your twin bed. “You do know that you were kind of insulting yourself, right?”

“That I’m not smart but I can fuck you dumb?” he shrugs carelessly, willing himself to not react when you sit on his lap seemingly innocently, embracing him warmly whilst fixing his bangs. “Not really an insult to me.”

The laugh that leaves your lips was purely unintentional.

“You don’t believe me?” he tilts his head, his eyes still bordering on playful yet there’s something behind them that’s even bigger, something you can place as none other but Jungkook’s sheer will to prove himself.

“I don’t think you’re dumb, Kook,” you placate him, the gentle smile you have on your face breaking at the edges into something more intoxicating for him; something more provocative that would set him over his limits. “Just like I believe you haven’t exactly fucked me dumb either.”

The grin on your boyfriend’s face would be appalling if not for the stern grip he has on your thighs, fingers digging resolutely at the flesh with the politest, most harmless known tone to man, even if his words were anything but.

“Now you sound like the dumb one between us,” Jungkook laughs, his sweet laughter going straight to your ears as he noses your cheeks, teeth grazing your jaw as he refuses to kiss you when you try and catch him. “You don’t remember, baby? Don’t remember how I’m the only one who can worship you like this?”

.

.

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yippee!!! the return of The Super Genius aka mature jk <3 missed him so bad u guys have no idea (it was nearing 478jk levels of yearning i fear...)

to get ahead of questions, yes this will be a general fic, meaning this will also be posted on tumblr!! but if you want to read the whole thing now + hundreds of exclusive fics (check out what i have here) + early access to other general fics, you can subscribe to my patreon :D

this installment will be posted here on tumblr, march 8th, saturday, 12 am kst :D

[spoiledskullz]

sonic movie monkey paw: knuckles is more popular now than he was prior to 2022 but it's movie knuckles and his character is still misunderstood

[crystalpallette]

little red riding hood but there's no hood and the big bad wolf is a cat and I don't think there's anything to ride in the forest and ringo could be littler so really it's just. red.

[moeblob]

Right and his work menaces (Brent and Karen).

I don't remember last I mentioned it but apart from crude nicknames to people (except Chris), he also just puts them in his phone really weird (except Chris, who is literally in his phone as Chris). And I bring this up because in Right's phone, Karen is saved as "Lawful Obligation".

[baekuras]

Because I am lazy with reinventing stuff I have been looking at some fallen angels (mostly Watchers because there is a list) and it's so funny to me that there is/was an angel around to "Cure the stupidity of men" Like thanks I need no more

also there was one guy which bascially was a constellation myth for Orion and he and Azazel(/Lucifer/Satan/whoever pointed Eve to the apple) were punished by hanging out between Heaven and Earth...forever or a long time but that got me to think...this would mean that (insert name of whoever tempted Eve in YOUR specific texts) is also a constellation, and if it's Lucifer it'd be the Morning Star which from what I remember either refers to Venus OR the brightest Star in the Sky aka Sirius aka part of Canis Major aka the constellation right next to Orion Fallen Angel shenanigans in the Sky? it's more likely than you think

also smth smth them being turned into Constellations and humanity using Fallen Angels, aka the givers of forbidden knowledge (you know..like reading and stuff) to navigate smth smth