#have some feeeeeels lol

[legaciestold]

july 6th, 2013 redfield house, new york city global attacks aftermath @everythingheard (chris)

it's hard to breathe in a way that was worse than the cold plunge into an icy river that she still recalls on those nights the nightmares come filled with scattered memories of years of history in the field. she remembers raccoon and the godforsaken spencer estates. she remembers innocent people that she'd left safely inside a high school only to return to find carnage. she'd often had to remind herself they'd have died either way-- once the city had been wiped from the world and that's something that haunts her too. the inevitability of it because irons had been corrupt and no one had been willing to believe them when they were telling the truth-- the real truth. jill thinks so many times over that maybe she's been living on borrowed time and she'd had to come to terms with that notion in her own way. there'd been dark moments especially when all the medical tests had nearly caused the vault of her strength to crack apart and she realized, really realized what sherry had likely been put through and been so strong through it, when she'd sought chris' strength and given in to it. when she'd let him hold her, his arms encasing her with her sinking into him as if he could shield her from all the memories that assaulted her. he hadn't been able to chase it all away but his stead-fast presence had given her the courage and strength she needed to push herself through.

she remembers fear creeping into her when wesker's experiments began, a rage displayed on her toward him because she refused to allow him to know how scared she actually felt. she remembers the moment she saw her mother for the last time and when she'd found out the boy with the too-kind smile died (even if he hadn't actually and she was fairly confident he'd one day legally be a member of her family). she remembers when her father had gotten arrested and seeing what she believed to be chris tied to a chair on a ship. she remembers those brief moments of lucidity as rushing water took her away and wesker fished her out of the river before everything had gone black too. yet none of these moments had taken her ability to breathe away from her like the moment when piers told her chris had went missing right after she'd gotten the call from one of the bsaa scientists that'd oversaw her recovery and told her of the change in her condition based on her latest bloodwork.

jill thinks maybe she's existed underwater for six months, only able to come up for air in the fractions of moments in-between when she feels a kick and remembers she has to stay strong and has to move forward and believe that the promise piers and barry made to her would be kept and that leon and claire would find sherry and that the shit that was happening around them would work out. there's times she feels guilty at the resentment she feels that she can't go out there and search too. god, she doesn't blame the life inside her but she did wesker and had he not abducted her she'd have been there, in the field. at chris' side because they hadn't known, they hadn't known and he'd have come home with her six months ago.

jill redfield hasn't truly felt alive, hasn't been able to breathe in any significant capacity until the moment she hears a car pulling into the driveway outside the house and knows with every fiber of her being who's out there. knows because barry's standing and blocking her path almost immediately, having come to the house the moment he had been done delivering claire to the states, having pulled every string he'd had left to get them into the country from canada in the aftermath of tall oaks when most commercial flights had been shut down to the east coast. he'd told her that leon was alive and that people had thought him dead, a fact they'd kept from her to prevent even more stress from befalling her than already existed. he'd told her leon and sherry were on the way back to the states too and claire was going to meet the transport. he'd told her about piers too, cautiously and gently as if she was a kid and not an adult and that from everything he'd been told, the man had kept his promise and saved chris. that he'd died helping to bring chris back to her and while they'd had a medic check her vitals after that because she'd felt dizzy, a part of her had managed to compartmentalize his death at least for the last two days because chris was coming back to her and that's all she had the capacity to focus on at the moment.

a part of her feared it as much as she anticipated it. the trauma he'd endured, the memory loss and weight of returned memories. of seeing what he must have seen in china and the stress of leon and sherry both being there and in danger too. and now she was going to throw another surprise at him and she wasn't sure what to expect. the chris that left for europe six months before, she knew, she knew he'd be shocked but happy. but what if it was too much for this chris? god she knows he's strong, he's the strongest person she knows but--no, no. she knew her husband. there wasn't a version of the world, no matter how dark, where she wouldn't. no matter the shock or the chaos and stress and everything in-between they were about to endure, they'd get through it. get through it together. and she knew him, knew, he'd be happy in the end. she knew this is what they'd wanted when he married her two years before. their lives could be chaos, but they'd always wanted a family. they'd just believed there'd be more planning involved.

jill's breath catches in her throat as she nods in response to barry's words, forcing her to wait instead of attempt to rush out of the house. she knows he's right, they need to be slow with this. no matter what anyone's told him and him her, neither of them have actually seen chris since he'd been found. lupin finds the window then, the senior dog managing to start parting the curtains and excitedly bark and jill hopes it doesn't bring forth some kind of fragmented memory of the dogs in raccoon for chris. because she doesn't know. she doesn't know what his mind is doing to him or if he remembers everything now or just pieces and she knows what haunted her own mind at the best of times.

outside barry puts his hand on chris' shoulder, halts him for a moment as words pass between them. 'it's damn good to see you. you good though?' barry makes sure, searching chris' gaze for a long moment before dropping his hand. 'i know you've been through hell and back for the fucking umpteenth time but just remember to breathe and stay calm. we had to stop her from becoming a fugitive again to go after you even in her, uh--condition.' it's possible he means her recovery but there's something in the way he says it. 'just, it's going to be shocking but it's a good thing. maybe this is what you both need. you'll see what i mean. now get the fuck in there and see your wife. she's been waiting a long six months for you, chris.'

jill's seated when he enters the house and walks into the room because she couldn't stop pacing and then picking at her nails and then wanting to ignore barry's words and go outside anyway before she'd finally forced herself to sit down with a pillow over her front. her eyes move from the floor up to meet his gaze and then she breathes as if she's finally come to the surface of murky water. she sees him, chris. her chris in his eyes and it almost makes her start to cry right then and there. fucking hormones. some part of her knows maybe she should warn him and say the words before she's lifting herself up which takes a little effort now that she's six months on but the pillow falls to the floor quickly and then she's standing before him and it's blatantly obvious.

"i found out right after you left." she tells him before she's moving toward him. "i was so scared when they said you were missing. even with umbrella gone we have so many enemies. i didn't know if they took you off the field or.. but i knew. i knew you weren't dead. i could feel it. i'd have known." maybe that's how he'd felt when she was missing. her hand reaches out for the side of his face and in that moment there's a quiet strength within her, the shaking her hands had been prone to even that morning gone as she runs her thumb over his cheek steadily. "we'd have come for you. even if it'd have made me and your son fugitives before he's even born. but barry and piers stopped me for the best even if i hate to admit my own limitations. piers, he kept his promise. he got you home to me-- to us. i love you and you're home chris and i know it's a lot to take in right now but we're going to be parents and your son's been kicking me like he's going through fucking redfield bootcamp."

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

I love Yai so much.

He's so protective & loyal. I really want to know who he was in the past life, because they implied all the friends are connected! Has he always been Tharn's loyal friend?

Also Phaya hitting Tharn was such a dick move. But it does seem like his anger might be beyond normal - I forget who theorized that Chalothon might have had some sort of supernatural effect on him? But it seems very plausible. It's an effective way to keep them apart.

Damn, I just love the way they stage shots in this show.

Ha, I knew it! They never show someone that much in the background unless it's for setup.

Also I love that when Tharn said his name, Phaya popped his head around to look at him all "wtf?".

Ok, I know he's a killer, but also - hot damn.

Gotta say, as much as I don't love cops as protagonists these days, I like that the show is calling out that cops can easily be criminals, and the justice system is fucked.

Whoa...possession?

Ok, so now I'm wondering if he was killing because something out there fed his anger to the extreme...kinda like what happened to Phaya, but over a longer time.

Omg! The look of horror! This is sooooo Chalothon y'all!!!

The feeeeeels.

I am weak.

Ugh. This guy is annoying me.

Keep questioning the system boys!

So the cop/hero stuff is blech, but I do find the parallel they're setting up here interesting.

Tharn, baby? Did you forget about all the people saying you've done wrong in your past life?

Lol, not Phaya prepping to make a move!

Either a whole lot of lights appeared out of nowhere or this is another fantasy sequence.

GODDAMMIT.

Look, I do appreciate we're getting some nice spicy moments to tide us over until they hook up in real life, but also - we need some real life smooches!!!

Ha, Tharn is a realist. I always think the same thing with wound-blowing scenes!

Gonna have to bring your fantasies to life some other way Phaya!

Oh damn!

Love what Heng is doing with his jaw, it's so suggestive of a snake about to unhinge.

Check the bingo card, obligatory sponge bath!

Lol, Phaya's "is this really happening or is this another horny daydream?" face.

Sibling relationships are so relatable, no matter what culture you're from.

OH DAMN!!

I still have no idea what's happening here, but I love it all the same.

[skyland2703]

I thought random power rangers ship in my head because I was bored 😭. Anyways it's Vargoyle x Robo Knight. Toxic robot yaoi (I forgot how you spell it 💀) 🤔? You can add some headcanons if you want to! Feel free to give your opinion on this!

HMMMMMMMMMM Toxic Robot Yaoi is true.

Let’s see—

Vargoyle found robo-knight’s debris in a search underwater, and his heart ached for a destroyed robot.

He’s an evil genius, but he’s still a genius, so he decides, no robot life is worth wasting, he MUST re-build this robot. Resurrect it, sorta.

He does indeed manage to resurrect robo knight, but much to his disappointment, the original programming of the robot seems… ugh. GOOD.

He’s a good guy, Vargoyle realises, firstly. And he has a soft spot for humans, which developed over a long period of time.

Vargoyle decides to go through Robo Knight’s memories in order to understand exactly what happened. Imagine his shock when he realises Robo knight was actually an ALLY of the Rangers.

Doesn’t matter, Vargoyle thinks. Maybe he can change his programming or something.

When Robo knight comes to, he doesn’t exactly realise Vargoyle is evil. He’s grateful for being brought back to life. But as Vargoyle’s intentions towards the rangers are revealed they find each other at crossroads.

But Robo Knight has a sense of gratitude, so while he doesn’t exactly agree with Vargoyle, he decides to not meddle too much.

Cue a domestic relationship sprouting between them where Vargoyle goes to fight the rangers and robo knight stays home cooking robot food or some shit.

Yes, yes, blaze, Roxy, scrozzle, all know the little arrangement robo knight and Vargoyle have.

They’re insanely domestically cute. They don’t admit it, get all grumbly about it, especially when Blaze and Roxy tease Vargoyle about it— but FEEEEEELINGS develop lol

“GUNCLES” <- Blaze.

Roxy steals Scrozzle’s “best chef” Apron and gifts it to robo knight.

Robo Knight tells them stories about the rangers, about Tensou, about Gosei— EVERYONE hates Gosei and Robo Knight finds himself facepalming mostly because Gosei was technically his mentor, but they all make him see what a terrible mentor Gosei really WAS.

Either way. Robo Knight gets along well with everyone, tbh. Roxy makes a lot of “your coldness is gonna cure global warming” jokes @ robo knight—

BUT the way he and Vargoyle constantly get into heated squabbles,,, absolute bickering married couple reluctant partners marriage of convenience vibe.

This was so much crack but I hope you enjoyed it XD thanks for the ask!!

[loveandlegacy]

this is mostly the product of a different dumbass thing i started writing but i do think cait and mel make an interesting like. comparative pair. they both come from wealth/power and they are the only two characters who have living mothers (for s1). mel had what we can only assume was an extremely traumatizing childhood at the hands of her mother's emotional/psychological abuse and has since grown up into a worldly person with a lot of political savvy. cait had a strained relationship with her mother but the force of her parents' power actually buffered her from the wider world. she has no social or political savvy and until she travels to the undercity she is largely ignorant of how her own family participates in a massive system of violence and oppression.

since i am absolutely correct in my assessment that mel is alive (because why wouldn't she be. don't argue with me), i feel like there are a lot of interesting directions their parallels could play out in s2. i think everything in the trailers indicates that cait is going to decide to embrace her mother's legacy and probably push it either deliberately or accidentally at least somewhat further into violence for some portion of the story. i have a strong feeeeeeling mel is going to end up outside the sphere of piltover's political influence (probs shouldered out by ambessa. world's #1 mom) and will even further depart from her mother's interests/will probably end up operating in direct opposition to her by the end.

idk! i have grand point here really i just like cait and mel lol

[demonsfate]

guilty as charged (mun edition) // accepting // anonymous asked . . . Have you ever been jealous over a ship a mutual of yours and another mun have with their muses?

I feeeeeel like I've probably had at some point given I've been in the RPC for so long? But honestly? I can't really think of any. Probs because for some reason for me, ships seem to be hard to come by. (Ironic, given how ppl think the RPC is ship-obsessed). Like it took a LONG time for Jin to get any ship partners beyond 2. I bet I was writing him for MONTHS before I even got one ship. Now I've got a fine amount of ship partners. But like, before, when you had little... it's kinda hard to get jealous over them lol

Even on my Riddler blog (I really need to update him RIP) - I didn't have many ACTUAL ships. My muses, for some reason, tend to get more into friends with benefits or just one night stands than actual relationships lol.

I don't think I ever really feel "jealousy" often in the RPC as much as I do feel "left out." I've had feelings of being left out or inadequacy a lot in my decade long hobby.

I've had people be jealous over my ships before tho lmao. Not a fun feeling. We can't help jealousy, but pls don't be competitive or mean in RP servers. That happened in one of those Discord servers I used to be in, and one of the many reasons why I don't join RP servers anymore haha

[rocketturtle4]

On Repeat tag game

In the unlikely event anyone saw the original version of this post that was up for 12 minutes before I realised I'd done it wrong and panic-deleted it only to realise 12 seconds later that no one would KNOW I'd done it wrong...

...no you didn't

It's Friday evening, I'm blaming weekend brain.

ANYWAY

Tagged by @visualtaehyun @sorry-bonebag and @thegalwhorants I feel so popular! Thankyou!✨

The game: Put your Spotify On Repeat playlist on shuffle and post the first 10 songs! (don't forget the shuffle like I definitely didn't)

Let's see what happens, I was very relieved to realise this is like RECENT on repeats lol, if it had been for the whole year...who knows what would have appeared. My music get's updated very rarely but recent joining of a spotify blend has dragged my music tastes kicking and screaming towards a little bit of variance lol.

Also this On Repeat thing is very cool so TY for the new feature!

Unsteady by X Ambassadors

ahhh what an opener. As some of you may know my bestie @plantsarepeopletoo has been breaking down the Only Friends music on the regular (it's so interesting, the music is almost predictive of the character arcs!!) and occasionally sharing the feeeeeels with me and @shouldiusemyname as they work through it. As part of this we have regularly discussed other songs that remind us of different characters and relationships in OF and this song put me deeeep in my Ray feels after Ep...5? or maybe 6 and yep I've been playing it A LOT ever since.

2. Mad love - Sped Up Version by Mabel, Speed Radio

I don't even remember how I found this one but it's a vibe

3. SPARK by A.C.E

Ooooh interesting, I recently finished a rewatch of Light On Me where I was reminded how much I love the ending song hence this!

4. Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift

I'm with you @thegalwhorants, I'm a swifty, not a big one, but her voice and music are excellent. Plus Reputation yk?

5. Free Fall by Slot Machine

Lol is commentary even necessary? I'm not even a huge KP fan but this song kills

6. I do not know how to write/copy Thai sorry but its by Selina and Sirin

The Only Friends feels are everywhere it seems. But this is SUCH a beautiful song.

7. betty by Taylor Swift

Same swifty disclaimer as before, this is one of my all time fav T Swift songs and I will take no judgement.

8. Belly Dancer by Imanbek, BYOR

Now here's a throwback I'm surprised to see on my repeat playlist, I guess I listened to it enough that it's lasted lol, for a while I studied to this song on repeat for hoooooours. Don't know why but the repetition is non-distracting, Mad Love above falls into that category too.

9. Pretend by Nanon

Ahhh now this is no surprise, I am currently on ep 13 of the Jungle, hoping to finish it this weekend and this song is gorgeous. Love it, love Nanon, love The Jungle.

10. Bad Habits (feat. Bring Me The Horizon) by Ed Sheeran

oooh finishing off with Ed that rounds it out nicely. Ed Sheeran's concert came to my state in little old down under in March of this year and it was my first ever concert. Love his music and the concert was AMAZING. Though this version of the song can actually be blamed on a recent blend I've joined to drag my music kicking and screaming into any sort of variance as my personal playlists have the original.

I have NO Idea who has already played cause my PhD has suddenly dumped three projects which need immediate attention in my lap all at once so my tumblr time has vanished into the ether.

Of course I COULD stop watching 15 shows at once but they'd have to STOP AIRING first

[Image of Ayan from The Eclipse saying "I don't get myself either"]

Soooo @grapejuicegay @wanderlust-in-my-soul @pandasmagorica play if you want and if you already have feel free to tag me retroactively! I basically only see stuff if I'm tagged these days... or if they happen to appear in the 20 random posts I see at some point through my day.

[beauzos]

for the fics writing ask that i forgot abt until just now; 1, 13, 27, 28, 51, 78 :3

Fanfiction Writing Asks

1. Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?

I spend a lot of time daydreaming, yes, which is why I feel so insistent upon jotting down all of my ideas so I can refer to them later. Sometimes, the turnaround can be rather quick if I have the motivation AND time, but not always. Most of the time, I've been thinking about the scenes I write for a while before I have the chance to actually write them down.

13. Do you listen to music while you write? If yes, what have you been listening to recently?

It depends on whether I think I can focus or not. I CAN put on music while writing if my brain is able to just... not even process that I'm listening to something KRKF but if I notice it's there, then I can't think straight. The words get in the way of MY words. I don't think I've been listening to anything while writing recently, though.

27. What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

I can bring it with characterization, if anything. I feel like I am very good at executing different characters and their personalities-- and making them seem distinct from each other. Which doesn't sound all that impressive, but it is kinda hard to do. Otherwise, I don't know. Doesn't everyone say they're good at dialogue? I'm good at dialogue, too, lol.

But I feel very confident about how I characterize, first and foremost.

28. What area of writing do you want to improve in?

My narration / prose could be better at times. I get caught in clunkiness when I don't know how to transition scenes or establish a timeskip and I can feeeeeel how awkward it is. On that note, also awkwardness with mentioning something in narration without it feeling too explanatory. Like that you notice you're having something explained to you, I suppose. Sometimes I get it right, sometimes I don't.

I could also get better at ending chapters or things. I'm not often sure of what to say, which is why I lean heavy on ending chapters or things with a line of dialogue rather than narration.

51. Does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

Wow, that's a great question. As I've said before, I don't really read fanfiction. It just doesn't really interest me, but when I've been reading fic lately, it's all ship stuff and smut. Like that's usually the only reason I'll go after fic is if I wanna see some characters fuck NJBSDHJ If I find great writing or character studies therein, that's a bonus, though. I like copernicusjones's Black/bright fics because it balances sexual content with legitimately good writing and character studies, for example.

And, as I've said, I don't write romance. And I don't write smut really either. I posted one smut fic publicly one time and then got so embarrassed I orphaned it NJRFD and I had a short period a couple years where I wrote a good handful of fics for myself and then I stopped and never did it again. Not sure why lol. I'm not a romance writer or reader under most circumstances, though.

I haven't really answered the question yet properly, huh. Okay, let's think about the type of stuff I read in terms of actual, published works. I like literary fiction, or more ~highbrow~ type novels, but I don't necessarily need it to be lit fic to be good to me. I just want to have an emotional experience of some kind. I don't necessarily often want light, or fluff, or what we call "commercial" books. I like character studies, that kind of thing. Better yet if it's a character(s) just... fuckin... going THROUGH it.

Not always, but those books stick in my ribs the most. I gravitate often towards classics as well for similar reasons.

I can't be so arrogant as to compare my writing to literary fiction at this junction though JNSD

ANYWAYS, I like my writing and I do think my writing ultimately reflects the kind of things I value in writing overall. I've called my writing style "brutal character study" for a while and I think that's true lol. I want it to be character-driven and I want them to go through HELL before anything gets better!!!! I just find that fun, and it's what I come back to. I like putting a character through hell and seeing how they crumple-- and how they manage to continue, how they could potentially heal, or how this affects them from then on.

Stuff like that clicks with me, and I suppose that carries over to the books I read quite often. Maybe. Probably.

78. What motivates you during the writing process?

The basic desire to simply see this story be written because I want it out of my brain lol-- and my investment in the characters, of course. My writing is very driven by special interests, so I'm writing about characters I'm thinking about all day to begin with, and I need to have SOMETHING to show for it. My sheer love of characters is a better answer, then, I think. I just love the Character!! And I have all these ideas, so I simply must write some of them. Or try, at least.

[mermaidsirennikita]

I’ve seen you rec some paranormal romances but do you have any a/b/o recs? I’ve been wanting to try them out but I really want to start with a good one

This one is tricky for me, because to be honest, I don't think I've read a true a/b/o book that I really like. I think that for me, it's always thisclose to what I'm truly seeking (werewolves) without actually being it. The alpha/beta/omega social structure (which, as a childhood Wolf Nerd, I must add has been disregarded by the scientific community, I think lol) feels so removed from people who are ultimately just people with slightly modified anatomy.

That said, I think the closest I've gotten is Run Run Rabbit by C.M. Nascosta. It's a werewolf romance set in her Cambric Creek world (though it's a lot less fluffy, which is probably why it's my favorite thing I'e read by her) and there is stuff like heat cycles, suppressants, and yes, knotting. The hero and heroine are both werewolves and lawyers, and they hate each other. He's super alpha (and a dick) and she bites back; the book begins with him saying she smells like prey, basically, and they end up in a situationship where they meet up every month or so to fuck it out while avoiding the feeeeeelings developing. Very good if you enjoy a hatefucking scene, especially. Even though everything is very civilized, I found this book had a super animalistic edge at points--there's primal chasing, the heroine is very drawn to how dominant the hero is on a super base level, there's definitely a hierarchal structure in terms of his alpha-ness intimidating other wolves.

There's another book about that hero's brother called Moon-Blooded Breeding Clinic--in that 'verse, werewolves are SUPER fertile, and women can go to this clinic and have heat cycles triggered artificially so that the werewolves can (voluntarily) breed them. Obviously, for optimal results, you should do it the old-fashioned way. For the knotting. This one was waaaay too fluffy for me, hero is NOT the jackass his brother is... Which lol. Is a problem for me, as I tend to love a jackass hero. But if you want something fluffier, this may work.

Then there's How to Marry a Marble Marquis, also by Nascosta, which is a Regency (I think) monster romance--gargoyle hero. Mostly recommending this because gargoyles have knots as well, apparently, and the sex scenes are real good. Especially if you like a bit of somnophilia. He "sleeps" in his stone form, and like........ maybe the heroine uses him a bit. With his permission, of course.

[squishylemonblobs]

sometimes i like to watch toy videos, not really because i'm a collector or anything, i just get curious

anyways i found a LOL surprise rabbit hole and i don't know how i feeeeeel.

do i think the idea of a fashion doll is inherently bad... no? there are probably wrong ways to go about them but i think they're interesting. time capsules of a sort

do i think there can be legitimate reason to be concerned about the effects of fashion dolls on kids' mental health? probably at times there is - if not from the dolls themselves, then a lack of proper representation among them

do i think fashion doll toddlers should be wearing teeny shorts, thigh garters, and other typically "adult" garments? probably not... i don't know how to articulate it but some of these designs just seem kind of egregious

LOL surprise dolls really look like bratz babyz came back with a vengeance. which i guess it is the same parent company...

i guess it's like. if these were the choices such a young child made to dress themself - devoid of any outside context, connotations, or reasoning, just a child thinking "these things look cool together" - then whatever. it's the fact that these are designs made by a team of adults that throws me for a loop i think

the boy dolls also have dicks? and one video i saw had a dog with a 6 breasted swimsuit. which is like... i don't think realism on dolls in itself is a bad thing, but trying to bring it in feels a little at odds with the general concept of these dolls. they are toddlers with big bug eyes and they wear their tiny little O-mouths in colourful lipsticks. i think realism is far out the window already

[celestie0]

ELLIEIEIIEIEIE hiii ☺️💗

its been forever bae i’ve missed uuu ☹️ i’ve been so busy lately i havent had time to send in my asks 😞 i’ve been thinking abt u tho 😘🤞(omg gojo is that u?? am i gojo??)

OKAY BUT BAE OH MY GODDDDD I’ve started catching feelings for one of my friends and he is literally the sweetest kindest most caring boy i’ve ever met. we’ve been friends for YEARS and he has literally NEVER hurt me. he’s the kind of person you can talk to about anything and he will literally literally not judge you no matter what ☹️whenever im with him i always feel so safe

OKAY BUT LEMME TELL U A FEW THINGS THAT HAVE HAPPENED WITH HIM CAUSE LIKE I SWEAR THERES SOMETHING BETWEEN US⁉️

okay so a while ago his friend who imma call J was interested in me and kept trying to flirt with me, but the guy i like (imma call him C) noticed this and he got like very protective of me. like for example he wouldn’t leave me alone with J, he’d be kinda touchy when J was around and he always made sure to keep J at a distance. One time tho J approached me when C was busy doing something and J was like saying some kinda weird creepy stuff to me so when I told C he was FURIOUS 😭 I swear he looked like he wanted to smack someone, I also found out that J was a playboy and he liked to mess with a lot of girls so I think thats why C was acting that way??

the other time was a few days ago C and I decided to hang out at a park bc it was a nice day and I decided to make a flower crown bc there were a bunch of daisies,, so I was sitting on the grass making it and C was sitting next to me watching me so I asked if he wanted one but like the boring man he is he said no 😒😒 so i picked up a daisy and tucked it behind his ear instead 😆 he wore it the entire time we were out and he even kept it ☹️ lowk felt like i was having a main character moment, LIKE IT FELT STRAIGHT OUTTA A FANFIC OR SOMETHING 😭 it felt fanfic worthy anyway 🤷‍♀️ OKAY BUT I SWEAR I CANT TELL IF HE KNOWS IN FLIRTING WITH HIM OR NOT 😭 cause like i said we’ve been friends for years so we’re just super comfortable and close with each other 😭😭

okay but enough abt C,, how’re u doing bae?? i’ve been missing u lately ☹️💗 i hope you’ve been taking care of yourself! it was pretty hot up here in norcal for this past week so I can only assume its been hot down there as well?? imma tell u bae as a city girl,, i cannot deal with hot weather. over 67° and i’m melting 😭 idk how you guys in socal do it 😭

anyway bae thats all for now,,

BYEBYE AND I LOVE U SO MUCH 💗💗

-🦌 anon

awwww hii my love i was thinking about you earlier last week!! so happy to see u <33

omg 🤧 C sounds soooo nice :””) he had those red flag glasses on when he was steering u clear of J but also maybe he was jealousss?? 🤔🫣🤭 also the flower thing is so adorable n you’re so right that’s like straight out of a fanfiction omggg ✋🏼😭 friends to lovers goes CRAZZYYY. if you like him bb u should tell him how u feeeeeel. i just watched ‘one day’ netflix series recently which is like friends to lovers but hella slowburn over the course of like twenty years but if there’s anything it taught me, it was to just tell ppl how u feel honestlyyy 😭😭😭 i’m rooting for you!! also is this the same guy that you were texting last time that wanted to stay awake w youuu at night?? 👁️

i’ve been doing well my love!! i just got back from a 20 mile bike ride so i’m exhausted n gonna go pass out LOL. im training to do a 100 miler w my friends in october so 😵‍💫😵‍💫 been spending sunday mornings working on rides haha. but yea im chillin im gonna hang out w my mom cuz mothers day i think her fav brunch spot is doing some 15% off mimosas thing so my brother n i are gonna take her there. YEA omg its getting hotter slowly, surprisingly this week is going to be still cold for us, tbh it’s supposed to be hotter this time of the year i’m a bit surprised by how pleasant it was when i was out riding today?? the sun only came out around 10am. shocked but i’m not complaining HAHAHA. we’re like low 70s rn and its bliss bc once summer hits i just wanna DIE. so jelly of youuu ik norcal has some wind to cut the heat too but not so much here at least not where i live since i’m more central from the beach 😭

i missed u toooo bb so nice to hear from you <333 LOVE YA HUGS N KISSES 💋 💕

- ellie 🦢

[astrojaxsaga]

Never really got around to doing a Feb update, so here goes.

Largely I've been maintaining throughout last month. Not mad about it. Obviously I'd like to be making better progress since we have a wedding we are going to in April, but I've had a ton of work stuff occupying my time. I've been taking the bus more so I can get work done at the office (it's more fruitful to work around colleagues sometimes), and the route is 1hr15 there and back, so, at least 2.5 hours of my day. I've been reading Galactic Astronomy on my way into work, which is some really great context on things I know but don't know the full breadth of. I've been staying mostly on track at work which is important, I don't want to be overwhelmed at the end of the term. Because I've taken on an additional work opportunity (creating assignments for a graduate Galactic Archaeology course, and getting extra income for it) the research has been pretty slow. I'm learning a lot though and still staying on top of it, and I'm getting out of debt. So, win win.

But yeah, haven't worked out for over a a week and a half (until yesterday) due to busy work stuff, but also I had the absolute worsssstttt cramp in my glute in the middle of the night right before I stopped going to the gym. I had been sleeping on my stomach one night, with one leg raised cause it feels good on my hips, and I must have fallen asleep incredibly hard and fast lol, because suddenly it's 1 am and I wake up to just immense pain. Took me at least 30 minutes to foam roll it out, so that made me take a break from going to the gym.

It's crazy to me how much getting exercise (or lack thereof) can affect my mood. I'm realizing there are certain things that help me feel less anxious but the thing is, when you're stressed you don't feeeeeel like doing them. Sometimes the overwhelm clouds your judgement. But also it's hard to know the difference between your body needing rest and knowing that adding more to your plate will help the issue.

Anyways. Doing fine. Getting back to working out. March should be good progress 👍

[taegularities]

I ALSO

Read Silk and Stones today and 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

There's something that's pure magic about your writing and it just... your fic just took OVER, not only is it written and developed so WELL but every single moment of it just hits DEEP and builds and builds onto the character's growth and connection with each other

There was something so achy about reading in past and present because her present was filled with flashbacks and it was post-Tae, it was from a point in her life when she'd already lost him and yet what we get is how they fell in love and the depth of the FEEEEEELS in it were just 😭😭😭

When I realised in the present tense she was mourning the loss and absence of him in her life... that at some point between past and present Tae isn't THERE anymore it terrified me that it was an angsty ending 😭😭 but like MC, I couldn't move on and accept he HAD gone

When his past came out... I just absolutely refused to believe it or even entertain the idea because Tae's character was just too raw, too genuine, too much in pain and silent torment and entrapment to have been what the gossip and rumours made him out to be and to hear the REAL story behind it... of course Tae would take the blame at the cost of his reputation and safety 😭

And your writing embodied the achy vintage feel of poetry and stories of a time past, the writing of a historical story and then the art of writing reflected in writing... it was beautiful

Your poetry intertwined in the story was just 🥺🥺🥺✨️ and I love loved it

I loved how Tae spoke in broken, incomplete poems because it left that bit of magic and unknown to it because maybe...cos maybe if poems are an expression of love and longing and torment he leaves them incomplete because he's feeling them in the present and poems are words gone and written... his feelings haven't been written yet UNTIL THEY ARE and he writes poetry on her

I LOVED the depth of pain and longing we got when he left and the pain of heartache because somewhere in falling in love she knew something MORE waited, that it seemed temporal and limited but they couldn't help it anyways

I think I might have been left shattered irreversibly if they hadn't found each other again🥺

Instead my heart is shattered but in the same way they pick up the pieces to heal again, the ending did the same to me...

And the title made me realise and wonder that even if you dressed the stone in all the silks and simple luxuries that Tae did, because a part of him WAS stone and turned hard by pain and bad experience... even all the silks couldn't hide it and eventually though... the stone did crack and he was alive again

And also Tae's safe space was a glass sphere and MC became the stone that caused the cracks in the transparent surface... because it WAS a safe space, it did feel like safety... but it was lonely and isolating and confining

And maybe SHE was the silk and stones for him

Dressed in silks

The stone chipping away at the hardened barriers

Until they crumbled

so… i went to reread s&s before answering your ask, and combined with whatever i put in there and your words, i'm left a mess :') i don't usually say this about my own writing, but something about this fic is so truly beautiful. i wish i was able to write like that today, bc god. it's a piece.

i'm so glad the fic felt vintage to you.. i was definitely opting to make it feel nostalgic and poetic, and very very heartbreaking, so i'm beyond thrilled that you said what you said. and the poetry 🥺 !! just like s&s tae, i don't find that genre very easy, so coming up with a poem that was as meaningful as pretty was difficult lol. so yeah thank you <3 also, if i spoke about everything you mentioned, i'd still be sitting here tmrw, bc i'm in my feels lol but i do want to mention a couple things..

the fact that you recognised that he was speaking in fragments and kept adding to the poem as his feelings grew is so important. like, every single time he spoke a line of a poem, he was trying to indicate how he was feeling about her that day. like only wanting to kiss the air that lately kissed her �� perfectly aligned with his urge to kiss her, too. other than that, i love LOVE how you interpreted the fic's title.

tae was certainly colder and harder when they first met than he was at the very end. she replaced those stones with a beating heart, and made all of him feel silky and cotton-y – then again, she was the stone breaking that glass cube, too. she broke it the moment he saw her walking up that hill. she replaced the cold of the glass with warm nature, and showed him that he wasn't supposed to feel cosy in his loneliness. that he only liked being alone bc that's when he couldn't hurt anyone and wallow in his pain. she showed him that with her, he could have something far better than an empty cube – which is home, right with her. reality was better than his dreams, and she was just that reality, yk?

so yeah, you're so fkn right. honestly, this made me tear up. i forgot how much i love this story bc it's so lowkey and not many ppl have read it, but just. ugh, thank you so much for reading it and for reaching out. your message is truly so much more meaningful than you might know, so yeah. i love you, i do <3

[zepskies]

Oooh hell yeah! I'm so ready for this!!

Russell Shaw growling against the column of your throat was enough to make anyone spread their legs in your defense.

Jessuuuus, what an opening line lmao! Some hot kitchen fun there. And he was just as playful, devious, (skilled), and slightly rough as I would expect. 😏 "sweetly possessive" hit it on the head for me. 😂😂

And it seems like he's got Dean's skills in the kitchen -- I was craving that grilled cheese and tomato soup fr. lol

Who the fuck was this guy?

That is the question, right? I like how she brought up the fact that they barely know each other, but they know the important things. (I shit you not, I have a similar line coming in Every Second Counts. 😭 Great minds think alike! 😂👌🏽) And it's so sweet that even though he gave her a taste of what's likely to come, he really does want to go slow with her and take their time with one another, despite the fact that he's already sheltering her. lol

“I’ll admit I’ve spent some time in the dark corners of life.”

Really liked that line in particular.^ 👌🏽

But I had a feeeeeeling something was going to go wrong at the grocery store. I should have expected Owen! though I'm surprised he made it out alive after what Russell orchestrated, but clearly this guy is a delusional psycho where the reader's concerned.

I'm on the edge of my seat for where you're going to take this in the finale!! Another awesome chapter, my friend! 💜💜

He's My Man (Part 4)

Summary: The reader and Russell's flirting finally boils over as they come to a decision about what path they want to go down together. But their happy bubble is about to burst...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 3,900ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury mention, angst, fluff, smut, stalker

A/N: Ahhh! 👀

__________

Russell Shaw growling against the column of your throat was enough to make anyone spread their legs in your defense. You didn’t mean for things to get so heated so fast. You were only supposed to do this if you were the real deal, right?

Well, that thought went out the window when Russell dropped to his knees and unceremoniously yanked your pants and underwear clean off. Large hands splayed on your thighs, Russell smirking up through his lashes at you. 

“Y-You just going to kneel there all pretty or what?” you asked, voice more than a few octaves higher than normal. 

“Oh, I can do a lot on my knees,” he teased. He slid his hands under your thighs, slipping around the tops of them. His fingertips dug into the flesh harshly and then he was pulling you forward so fast you nearly fell off the top of the counter. You heart nearly lept from your chest when he buried his head between your legs, an ungodly yelping sound escaping your lips.

You could fucking feel him wearing that damn smirk as he devoured you. 

“Russ,” you breathed out, hands shooting to his hair, his tongue toying with your clit in wonderfully torturous circles. He encouraged you, gripping your legs harder, bring you closer, practically suffocating him. 

A deep coil of pressure was building in your core, Russell leaving your clit for only the briefest moment to taste between your folds.

“Fucking f-fuck, Shaw. D-don’t tease,” you shuddered when his tongue returned to your clit, more pressure behind it. You could feel yourself building faster, skin flush. You tugged on his strands, Russell groaning against you. The sound made your toes curl and you did it again, Russell tightening his hold on you. Your skin would be littered with his touch for days and god, that made you want it all the more.

He zeroed in your clit with a ferocity that had you on the edge of orgasm, the sharp peak of pleasure right there. You felt that smirk again and with a singular flick of his tongue, you were coming. Hard. And he didn’t fucking stop. Your orgasm went on and on and on, your legs squeezing him, determined to rip every ounce of pleasure this man could deliver out.

But Russell still didn’t stop torturing you. He just kept going, tongue swiping circles over your sensitive clit until your felt a fast build and were exploding again, your jaw dropping in a silent scream. You were shaking when he licked a final line through your folds, skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. Russell easily pulled your legs away from him so he could sit back on his heels, staring up at you as he licked his lips.

He smirked when he rose, watching your chest rise and fall quickly. He leaned in close and held up your soaked lilac underwear, dangling it off one finger. 

“How’s my queen of darkness doing?” Your heart was still hammering in your chest, Russell smiling as usual when he brushed his lips to your ear. “You think you’re speechless now? Just wait until I get a chance properly worship you.”

“Jesus fuck, Russell.” You stared up at him with big, satisfied, scared as hell eyes. But Russell was more than pleased with that reaction it seemed since he landed a sweetly possessive kiss against your lips. He grasped your chin with his thumb, turning you into it before letting you have a fleeting taste of control. He pulled back and winked, gently setting the underwear in your lap.

“I’m going to buy you that matching bra. Lilac is so your color,” he grinned, licking his lips as he looked down to where you were exposed to the room, slowly dragging his eyes back up. He whistles as he went over to the fridge and took out a bag of tomatoes. “I’m going to get started on the soup.”

“T-The soup?” you asked, shakily planting your feet on the ground, one hand on the counter, the other gripping the underwear.

“I was going to make you grilled cheese, remember? Tomato soup is a given. Always better from scratch.” You blinked slowly, Russell chuckling and ruffling your hair. “Why don’t you go take care of yourself and I’ll be here when you’re all done. Alright?”

“You don’t want me to…” you glanced down at the tent in his sweats, Russell frowning.

“This ain’t a quid pro quo household. We have all the time in the world for that and right now, all I want to do is continue making this the best damn lunch of your life.” He slipped past and turned on a small radio on the counter, taking his phone out and tapping a few times before Taylor Swift started playing through the speakers. You spun around, Russell staring back. “Yes?”

“Nothing. I’ll be back.” You scurried out of the kitchen, shaking your head as Russell turned the volume up. With one last glance over your shoulder, you watched him bopping along, back to you as he started to dice up the tomatoes.

Who the fuck was this guy?

Ten minutes later, you were exiting the shower after rinsing the sweat off your skin. You stood wrapped in a bath sheet in Russell’s master suite, finding a door to a walk in closet after a moment. You’d grabbed a new pair of underwear before washing up, this one a deep green that matched Russell’s eyes. But you needed some new clothes and, well, you were pretty sure he wouldn’t mind. 

It was easy enough to find some joggers on a shelf cubby but Russell had an obnoxious amount of shirts for a guy. Dress shirts. Flannels. Henleys. Sweaters. Yeah, Russell was a fucking cable knit sweater guy and you were really struggling with why the hell he was single at this point. 

But in his band shirts, specifically the tour ones because this man’s organizational skills rivaled Martha Stewart, you found one that made you grin.

You threw it on, sans bra, and exited back to the kitchen. Russell was working over a pot on the stove, stirring something delicious smelling with a wooden spoon. Unfortunately, he wasn’t shirtless or wearing that zip up anymore. 

But the tight white t shirt made his shoulders and biceps look massive. Yeah, you were okay with this look.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” you teased, walking around the island and joining him at his side. You hummed your approval at the creamy looking soup that was simmering. 

“Ah, ah,” he said, pushing on your forehead with a single finger, his concentration on the soup as he stirred it. “Don’t bribe me with compliments. I thought I told you to relax.”

“Yes, sir,” you said, patting his ass as you went past. Russell stifled a groan as you sat at one of the stools at the island, criss crossing your legs. “You like that, Russ? When I do what you say? Sir?”

“Sir’s going to spank your ass later for that.” You laughed lightly, Russell debating something it seemed before he added more salt and then nodded. He gave it one last stir and then put the spoon down, turning to you with a smile. “You into that kind of thing, Qark?”

“Qark?” you asked. He shrugged as he left the kitchen for the bar cart nearby, picking up a decanter and pouring two glasses.

“See, I love your nickname but queen of darkness doesn’t roll off the tongue all the time. Therefore, Qark for short.” You raised your eyebrows when he handed you the drink. “If you don’t like it-”

“You’re sweet.” You smiled, taking hold of his free hand with yours. “I like it. The nickname and whiskey.”

“Figured you would.” He set his glass on the counter, cocking his head. “My Eras tour shirt. Interesting choice.”

“Did you actually go to the tour?” He grinned, taking his glass and going to the other side of the island. “Really? On a date or something?”

“One of my friends had floor tickets, invited a few of us guys after his wife and friends got sick. Not ashamed to admit I’m a swiftie now.” 

“You’re really something else, aren’t you.” Russell cocked his head. You grasped your drink with both hands. “I just mean…you’re ex-special ops. You do black ops now. You grew up in the middle of nowhere with a dad that taught you how to survive. You’re not supposed to be so…not toxic.”

“I’ll admit I’ve spent some time in the dark corners of life.” He took a long drink and swallowed, his eyes full of softness and wonder when he met yours. “You know why I call you the queen of darkness?”

“My cheery personality?” you joked. Russell smiled, leaning his forearms against the counter over at you. 

“Queen’s run shit. Yeah, your life was fucked but you were so…bright.” You laughed, sipping from your glass. “I’m serious. You with your fucked up life loved your coffee. Did you know you savor every sip and smile after each one? You love your danishes like it’s the best thing on earth. You worked for a mob and wore yellow imported pajamas that are the softest thing I’ve ever touched. Your house was so warm and cozy. Soft lights. Candles. You had a romcom on and were having a pizza and beer for dinner like a date night for yourself. You’re the queen of darkness because it could have ruined you. It could have destroyed you. But you owned it, you ran that shit into the ground and you fucking glowed through it all.”

A response caught in your throat, Russell reaching out, resting his hand over yours. 

“I can’t imagine how bright you’re going to shine now that you’re free of all of that my little Qark.” 

“Why me?” you whispered, letting him lace your fingers together. 

“A king needs a queen,” he whispered, squeezing your hand. “My dark corners are a bit brighter since I met you.”

“We barely know each other,” you whispered.

“To be fair, most couples don’t know each other when they starts out so we’re ahead of the game if you think about it.” You lowered your head with a tiny smile. “We know the important bits.”

“I suppose we do.” You squeezed his hand in return, Russell nodding with a smile. “Look at you. Got a freeloading unemployed girlfriend living in your house. You really got it going on.”

“Hell yeah I do.” He lifted your hand, kissing the back of it. “We’ll go slow. Let you get some faith in me first.”

“Thank you, Russell,” you said. 

“Don’t have to thank me for that,” he said before standing tall and clapping his hands together. “Alright. Let’s make some of those sandwiches.”

You had to admit Russell hadn’t been bragging about making your lunch the best of your life. He cooked a damn good grilled cheese and his homemade soup was worthy of a restaurant. After he packed away the leftovers, you settled outside on the porch near the fire, Russell tucking you in under his arm.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” he asked. You turned your head up, shaking your head. 

“I’ve lost a few patients before but I know it’s not the same. Have you…” you asked. Russell hummed, gaze on the continued downpour surrounding you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m not proud of taking lives but I never took one I didn’t absolutely need to if that makes sense.” 

“You were a soldier. You doing bad things kept a lot of people safe. You protected them.” He was quiet, his thumb absently rubbing your arm. “Bad guys don’t do what you did for me. You and Colter went out of your way for me. You’re not the monsters you hunt.”

“I know. Sometimes I just worry I’m a black hole for crap. I don’t want you feeling like you’re trading one bad life for another.” 

“Black holes don’t go to Taylor Swift concerts or wear sweaters or do extremely dangerous things for strangers because it’s the right thing to do.” He rested his head on your shoulder with a satisfied hum. “You’re good, got it?”

“Yeah. I need to sort out work on Monday. Put in my notice. We both need fresh starts.”

You wrapped an arm around his waist, Russell snuggling closer. “And you cuddle? Come on, there’s got to be something wrong with you.”

“The whole killer thing?” he chuckled. 

“No, we’re not doing that shit.” You gripped his chin the same way he had to you earlier, forcing him to look at you. “Understand?”

“Okay,” he said quietly. “I mean there is something I’m not good at if you really want to know.”

“Yeah?” He nodded.

“It’s kind of embarrassing,” he sighed. You ran a hand through his hair, tilting your head.

“I’m sure only you think that. Come on. Couples share secrets and stuff, right?”

“Well…alright,” he sighed, looking up at you with a long drawn out inhale. “I’m really not good at not being perfect at everything. It’s a struggle really to interact with you common folk.”

You lightly punched his bicep as he fell to the side with a fit of giggles. “Russell Shaw!”

“Oh, come on. You lobbed that one up in the air and it was just waiting for me,” he laughed. You flopped yourself on top of him. Meanwhile, Russell only started to giggle again. “Oh no. I’m trapped. Whatever shall I do?”

“You know, Colter don’t talk a whole lot but you get a few beers in the guy and he loosens up,” you said, rolling your head, side to side. You stretched out your arms in front of you, Russell grinning up at you as you straddled his hips. “Apparently, you were incredibly ticklish as a child. Let’s see if that still holds up.”

“Wait! Truce!” he said, holding up his hands, your own just inches from his underarms. You narrowed your eyes, waiting for an explanation. 

Approximately two and a half seconds later, you were flat on your back on the couch, staring up at him, Russell smirking as he pinned your wrists down by your head.

“You dirty dog,” you said, Russell brushing his lips against yours. “That is the last time I ever fall for that. You know I’m going to torture you with tickles now. You’ve sealed your fate.”

“I’d rather be tortured in a more…pleasurable way by you. I’ll be a very good boy for you,” he murmured, kissing under your jaw. “I take my punishments very well.”

“Russell,” you groaned. “Do not turn me on again. I wear to god I’m not taking another shower today.”

“We’ll take a raincheck on my punishment,” he said, nipping lightly at your neck. Then he was sitting up and releasing you, holding up his hands. You propped yourself up on your elbows, licking your lips. “Yes, my queen?”

“Why don’t we cool things down for a beat so we can actually take this slow like we mean to.” He sat back further, allowing your space to sit up. “How about I run to the store for a few hours, buy some clothes that actually fit me and you can get some rest too. I know you’ve barely slept in days.”

“I won’t say no to a nap.” He scratched his bandage, pulling it away when you tsked him. 

“Don’t rip your stitches. It’s still too early for them to be out. I’ll pick you up some supplies since I doubt you remembered to bring those with you.”

“Thanks,” he said, thunder crackling overhead. “Take my raincoat from the front closet. And be careful driving. Just wait in the store if it’s coming down too hard. And hit the outdoor store for a jacket and-”

“I’ll be fine, Russ. S’just a little rain.” You got up with a stretch and cupped his cheek, tired green eyes softly looking up. “Sleep. I’ll stop by the grocery store on the way back, make us some pasta for dinner later, nice and warm on a chilly night.”

“Yes, mam,” he hummed, turning into your touch before letting you go. “All the big box stores and grocery store are next town over, you drove through it to get here.”

“Got it. I’ll be back soon, Russell.”

“Don’t be too long.”

Three Hours Later

You were happily humming to yourself in the aisle of a semi-busy grocery store. Apparently bad weather didn’t stop the locals from being out and about. You’d hit a clothing store, an outdoor one and had at least a week’s worth of clothing to get you through until you could figure out how to get stuff from back in Virgina to here. You’d ditched Russell’s sweats and jacket for a pair of dark wash jeans and a black rain coat that you weren’t drowning in as you walked the aisles of the large grocery store in search of the pasta section. Your next black rainboots squeaked against the linoleum but as you’d noticed, most everyone you saw out was in a pair. 

After a few minutes you found it and started to debate what kind of pasta to make. Was Russell a wine sauce kind of guy? Probably. Mushrooms might be a bit too much for a first meal. People had strong opinions on mushrooms. Maybe something more palatable like some chicken and a few vegetables in a white wine sauce. 

“Still talk out loud to yourself I see.” Your heart jumped into your throat when you heard that voice. You turned to the man by your side with a basket in hand, his dark gaze locked on you. “Y/N.”

“Owen,” you breathed out. He looked like shit. His baseball cap and hood did nothing to hide the black eye and split lip. The broken nose and dark bruises under his eyes. The side of his face was littered with deep red, blotchy marks that hadn’t been properly tended to and would leave nasty scars behind. Owen was a creep yet he had been attractive. But the handsome playboy was gone. This Owen was marked and you could feel his new levels of rage radiating off of him under that thin layer of ease.

“You seem surprised to see me.” He reached out and, shockingly, gently tucked your damp hair behind your ear. But his touch gave you no comfort like Russell’s. If there weren’t so many people around, you would have already been running for it. “Don’t worry. You’re safe now.”

“Safe?” you whispered, spotting the gash that hadn’t been stitched near his hairline. He nodded, pressing in close.

“I know Elpine wormed his way into our crew and everything got fucked. I know he had you kidnapped before it all went down so he could keep you after it was all over. He’s dead, baby. They all are. His crew. Ours. There’s no one else left. We can start over out west, maybe even here if you like it. It’ll be different but maybe we needed a change. I was so busy with work and trying to live up to my dad’s memory, I’ve been ignoring you. I wasn’t there for you and I’m sorry. It’ll be different this time.”

You took a step back but Owen’s hand was on your arm, mistaking the fear in your eyes. 

“I know, Baby. Change is hard but we’ll get through it. Is the man that took you here? Or did you escape?” 

Fuck. You needed to get out of here and back to Russell now. 

“I…killed him,” you said quietly, piecing it together as Owen stared right through you. “He was keeping me nearby. In a house. I thought I was all alone and knew I couldn’t go to the police cause of who we are and…so he’s there. He said it was some vacation house so it was abandoned. I was going to lie low there until I figured out my next move. It’s safe.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding a few times. “Okay, good plan. We’ll grab some food and crash there a few days until I can get my hands on my money.”

“How’d you find me?” you braved, Owen tossing the cheapest box of elbows he could find in his basket. 

“Oh. I put a tracker in your phone and car years ago just in case someone grabbed you. Hey,” he said, making you flinch. “I know you like to go to your little cafe bakery shit on Saturday mornings so we’ll find a place where you can, alright?”

“Y-You’ve been following me?” you asked, Owen tossing in some off brand spaghetti sauce. 

“Hey,” he said with a smile that you assumed was meant to be reassuring but made your stomach turn. “You didn’t want any guys with you so I had to keep tabs on you another way, right? It was a good thing too.”

“Right,” you said, turning around, praying Russell would somehow magically appear at the end of the aisle.

“Where the fuck is the kraft mac and cheese…” he muttered. 

“Uh, down the aisle,” you said, forcing yourself to turn around with a smile like he was your savior. “I’m so happy you’re here. I’m going to pop in the baking supplies and get some stuff to make your favorite cookies for my hero.”

“Hell, yeah! Just don’t take too long,” he said. You hummed as you quickly walked past and down a few aisles. You ripped out your phone, dialing fast.

“Well hello, queen of-”

“Owen. Is. Here,” you grit out, looking behind you for any sign of him. “He’s fucked up but he’s alive and he thinks I killed you. I’m taking him back to your place where he thinks we can hide out.”

“He didn’t hurt you did he?” he asked. You closed your eyes, heart relaxing for a beat. That was the difference between the two men right there. One actually cared and the other only about what he thought belonged to him. Owen didn’t even ask if you were okay.

“I’m fine, just shook up at seeing him. I figured if I can get him there, you can get the jump on him?”

“Damn straight I will, my smart girl. Just get him in the house and then make an excuse to go back out to the car. Don’t come in and run if things get sketchy between now and then. Don’t let him see you on the phone.”

“I know. I’m sor-”

“Don’t apologize. It’ll be okay, Qark.” WIth that he hung up and you quickly put your phone away. You barely looked at the box mixes and threw one in the cart before you met up with Owen in the center aisle. He frowned.

“Boxed? You’re not going to make them from scratch?” You resisted the urge to slap him into the next century and spun around, picking out ingredients. Owen wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you tucked into his side. “That’s more like it.”

God, you’d never wanted Russell Shaw more in your life than that moment. You just prayed when you met up with him again, he got the drop on Owen before he got hurt. Or worse.

________

A/N: The Final Part is coming soon!

[witch-hazels-musings]

This isn't a request, just a brain worm I know I'll never write cause it hurts my heart too much, so I'm here to curse you with it too lol.

Albedo who has a clumsy S/O, who he is usually very patient with and finds very adorable. But between sleep deprivation, Sucrose mislabeling all of the chemicals in a new shipment, and then you dropping a vial of a deadly chemical (mislabeled) that nearly endangered Klee, he loses it. Calls you a hindrance and a danger and tells you to never set foot in his lab again.

The hurt/comfort potential is so high, but at what cost??

reactions  

Warning -> angst, hurt / comfort 

Albedo x reader |  Anthology 

a-n:  stab me in the heart ... ugh (I know not a request, but the feeeeeels) .. also I’m struggling with my own work right now and this is flowing from my brain (so thank you for the inspiration lol)

It was the day, this terrible, no-good day that made him so frustrated. It had been growing in him for a while now, his irritation and lack of patience, and for as long as he could he directed it inward. Making deep marks with his pencil in his notebook or crumpling up his paper altogether when things just weren’t coming outright. He blamed himself for his lack of ‘hold-it-together-ness’ that he usually mustered when things got stressful, but there was something about the events that played out today that put him at his breaking point. He felt like one of the beakers sitting on the flame and with only the slightest adjustment he’d go off. 

Unfortunate that you were the adjustment, you were the thing that turned his irritation outward, and as the words spilled from his mouth, and the defeating silence that followed cascaded down around him like a torrential storm, he knew how wrong his actions were. 

--

The bottle came crashing down, its sharp pieces sliding across the floor and coming to rest wherever their energy ran out. The vapors began to lift, to spread out in the space it occupied, and as soon as he saw the little label in the carnage he knew exactly what it was. 

“Everyone out! NOW!” He screamed, dropping his documents and waving at people to leave. You instinctually reached for Klee, who was sitting on the counter just above the vapor but Albedo pushed you out of the way. His arms scooped Klee up and pulled her face into his shoulder before he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and yanked you out of the room behind him. 

When everyone was out and the doors closed, there was an intense tension in the hallway. People were holding onto whatever was in their hands when the call to action was made, and some equally confused as they were worried. Albedo’s face was the reason why people were so unsettled. His normally calm expression was turned into a scowl, his eyes glaring and near combustion. 

“I’m sorry ... Klee are you oka...” You reached for him and he reacted, loudly, suddenly and with such force that it stilled all the noise in the hall. 

“You’re sorry!?” He bellowed, your hand retreating back to your chest and eyes shooting to him. “You could have KILLED her, you could have killed EVERYONE here ... Archons, you have no sense at all.” He’s seeing red and the pent-up irritability is seeping from him. 

“It was an accident ...” You whisper, your eyes looking at the ground desperate to avoid the many eyes looking at you. 

“You’re a walking accident. Everything you do is just a hindrance to our work, and today your clumsiness nearly cost us everything.” 

“Albedo ... stop.” Sucrose shifted her way toward him, her voice was meek and apologetic. “I should have put the bottle away ...” 

“No, Sucrose. It wasn’t your elbow that knocked it onto the floor.” 

“ ... Bedo ...” Klee was shaking in his arms, she’d never seen him get so upset before and it wasn’t something she seemed to like. Albedo’s gaze drifted out over the sea of prying eyes, his anger starting to dissipate, but only slightly, not enough to care that you were crying or to notice how much his words truly affected you. 

“We can’t have mistakes like these in the labs, Y/N, you are no longer allowed to enter this building, am I clear?” He looked at you but he hardly registered that you were there. His arms tightened around Klee, his hand spreading over her back. The only thing he could think about was how he nearly lost her, lost you, how this moment could have taken his family away. 

You stumbled, your feet dragging against the ground as you took in his words. Sucrose reached out to you but you recoiled further until you bumped into someone and in a matter of seconds you turned, pushed through them, and ran through the halls. 

There was an uncomfortable silence that lingered long after you were gone. No one dared to say or do anything, so in an effort to get out of the atmosphere, Albedo turned with Klee still in his arms and made his way down to his office. Once there, he set her on the couch and did a small check-up on her. When everything seemed to be okay, he let her be, making his way to his desk and collapsing into the chair. 

“Bedo ... are ... you mad at Klee?” Klee’s small voice drug him from his thoughts and he dropped his hand onto his lap. 

“No, I’m not mad at you.” 

“Then, are you mad at Y/N?” 

With a sigh, he answered her question, “Yes ... I am mad at them.” 

“Why?” He looked at her, her small legs dangling from the couch, he little hands pressed together and confused eyes looking back at him. 

“They made a mistake and nearly hurt you.” 

“If someone makes a mistake ... does that mean they are bad?” She asked, looking at the cushions on the couch. 

“Sometimes ... this situa...” 

“Then Klee must be bad too.” Her comment stalled his thoughts, he looked at her and saw how dejected she was. Quickly, he made his way over to her and took a seat at her side. 

“What makes you say that.” 

“Because Klee’s made mistakes too ...” Now he understood. She wasn’t old enough to understand what he was saying and to not put the logic of his answer onto herself. She was beyond empathetic in this way, one of the reasons he cared so deeply for her. 

“Just because someone makes a mistake, doesn’t mean they are bad ... it’s complicated, but what happened earlier was very dangerous and because of that ... it was a bad thing that happened. Does that make sense?” 

“I guess.” She looked at him before dropping her eyes back onto her hands. “Y/N looked really unhappy when you yelled at them. I didn’t like it either.” 

“I know, I’m ... sorry that I lost my temper. I was just scared.” 

“Bedo isn’t scared of anything.” She said confidently, her fists digging into her sides and giving him a confident head nod. 

“There are a few things I’m scared of.” He mumbled. Just then there was a knock at the door and when he told the stranger to come in he wasn’t shocked to find Sucrose standing there. She was holding something in her hands. 

“Mister Albedo. We managed to open a window and it should be okay to return to the lab now.” 

“Alright, tell everyone they can keep back to work then.” 

“Uhm, I know ... um .. that you were angry earlier. I hope you’ve calmed down a bit.” She was nervous, he could see that and he had every right to receive those nerves from her. He let himself react with emotions instead of using a level head. 

“I have, I’m sor...” 

“Oh no, it’s fine ... I just wanted you to know that what fell wasn’t dangerous. I uh, mislabeled the uhm, b-bottle and was working on fixing them, but well I g-guess I missed this one.” She extended her hand and showed him the cork, it was clear to him then that his reaction was beyond necessary. No one was at risk of harm, there wasn’t any need for him to spiral into a rage like that ... he had made a mistake. 

“Sucrose. Can you stay with Klee for a bit?” She nodded her head and as soon as he got her confirmation he made his way out of the room. 

-- 

He found you in the place he could always find you. Except, this time you didn’t greet him with a smile, instead, when you saw him your body tensed and you wiped the tears harshly from your eyes. 

“What do you want ... are you here to yell at me again?” Your words stung his chest and he wondered if this is the way he made you feel. 

“I came to apologize.” 

“Ha, apologize ... well I’ll take your apology just as well as you took mine.” You say spitefully, crossing your arms and biting your lip to hold back the tears. 

“I deserve all the anger that you have. I have no excuses for the way that I acted toward you.” 

“You embarrassed me.” 

“I know.” 

“I can’t help that I’m clumsy. I try all the time to be careful, and I didn’t see that bottle ... I didn’t mean to put anyone in danger.” The tears started to fall from your eyes again. You brushed them away with the sleeve of your coat, when you looked down at it you could see where the fabric soaked up the water. 

“I shouldn’t have said what I said. It was unkind of me and I know you may never forgive me ... I ... um,” He cleared his throat and was surprised by the pressure behind his eyes. The thought occurred to him that maybe, because of his actions, you might never want to be with him and the realization of that thought was beyond painful.

He didn’t know what else to say, earlier he couldn’t get the words to stop flowing from his mouth, and now he couldn’t get them to leave. 

“You hurt me.” You added. 

“I know.” 

“Is ... everyone okay? I mean is Klee okay? I’m sure she was scared.” 

“She’s fine ... and she wasn’t the only one scared.” 

“I’m sure people were frightened, I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“I’m sorry, I was ...” He looked at you, and as he spoke your arms fell to your sides and your eyes stayed locked onto his. “I was scared. You were both so close to ... I thought I might ... uh ...” His voice shook and he couldn’t figure out how to finish his statement. 

“It really was an accident ..” 

“I know that, I really do. My fear, my worry should not have come out on you like that. I may never get your forgiveness for how I reacted and I’m okay with it, I just hope ... I hope I don’t lose you because of it.” 

His confession pierced your heart, the second time today that you felt uncomfortable pressure there, but this time it was different. You walked toward him, hesitant and still a little sore from what he said, but you understood. He has to think about everyone, and you were a part of his everything. You slid your arms around him, slowly moving to embrace him, and were warmed by his return gesture. The two of you hugged each other tightly underneath the swaying trees and listened only to the sound of your heartbeats and the moving water below. 

“You won’t lose me this easily.” He tightened his grip at your words. The reassurance of them surrounding him as pleasantly as the arms which held him close. “I get that everyone has those days. I just ...” 

“No, please don’t make excuses for me. I hurt you and I’ll do what I can to make it up to you.” He came here to comfort and apologize to you, not the other way around and he wanted to make sure you knew he would be more careful in the future. 

“Can I yell at you then?” 

“Yes!” He pulled away from you, his hands wrapped around your shoulders and the sincerity of his exclamation made you laugh. “What’s so funny?” He asked curiously, his eyes held so much honesty that you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“Maybe later.” You finally push out. 

“Whatever you wish.” After days of being exhausted, tired, and beyond his normal self, he finally was able to feel back together again. He made a mental note that it was your laughter that seemed to give him the most energy and from now on, he would do whatever it took to cherish and experience it again and again. 

--

tiny continuation (more like brainrot than anything else) 

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

📂✨

-context for this ask: this was an ask game from ages ago where i said that each folder would be specifically for headcanons about a Character A/Character B dynamic. askers could choose their pairing or else, as dear Cat did, let me pick-

-aaand they may regret it, because i decided that i was gonna seize the moment to write a whole lot about the ups and downs of

✨ Henry and Gordon... Part I ✨

-and i mean a WHOLE lot coz i found i had so much to relate so for now we'll only go up to. like. 1945??-

1923-4:

Henry is already in the tunnel when Gordon arrives, and he remains there for most of the year. Indeed, Gordon was acquired, of course, to help fill in the services that Henry... obviously... was not going to be handling. To be more specific, Hatt reached out to Gresley to try to get information on Henry's origins. Surprisingly ("hey man i got swindled when i tried to buy one of your engines from a shady source, lol wild right"), they hit it off—possibly because they're both at least a little insane—and as a matter of both pride and pity Gresley gave Hatt the chance to re-home his testbed Pacific.

Gordon has conflicted feelings about—well, about everything. At this time, Sodor represents exile. But the engine in the tunnel is definitely not the least of his confusion.

At first he takes the story of Henry’s defiance and punishment at face value, and he’s low on empathy for anyone when he first arrives, so he just snorts at such a fool.

However, Gordon quickly becomes disappointed in many aspects of his new railway. The notion of an engine who had the guts to defy the Fat Director to his face has… appeal.

Gordon secretly becomes more and more intrigued by the engine in the tunnel, at the exact same pace as he finds that he cannot confide to anyone else on Sodor: They are either beneath him, misunderstand him, beneath him and misunderstand him, or (he realizes, more quickly than Henry did) they’re 98462 and 87546, who might be appropriate companions for an engine of his station, except… they. are. vulgar.

Feeling deeply isolated under his haughty and grumpy exterior, Gordon also tries not to let on that he’s at least curious about the Pacific who was here even before him, and who—say what you will!—certainly showed some true gumption.

He doesn’t let on… until he suggests that Henry should be given a try with the train he failed with. It’s probably the first thing he’s ever done in his life where the motive isn’t Me! Me! Meee! It’s born out of mere curiosity, but at least it’s curiosity about someone else. It’s not exactly self-sacrificial, but it’s neutral.

After Henry is let out of the tunnel, they hit it off quickly and become a tight duo—two lonely, friendless Pacifics on a quite dysfunctional railway, both proud and dumb and more than a little confused, prototypes who aren’t wanted anywhere else and who aren’t yet sure they’re on safe footing here either, gossiping viciously with their heads together comparing notes as they try to make sense of their world and protect themselves.

While they both begin this post-tunnel era on good terms with Edward, they just have so much more in common with each other than with him; they have feeeeeelings, you see, feeeeeelings that no one understaaands, least of all that goody two-brakes. They also retreat a little from him, as well as from everyone, and that’s because ’62 and ’46 were actually on Sodor for quite a while after these events. During this period the rift between them and Edward (and also Thomas, though to be honest everyone involved underestimated Thomas, which annoyed him greatly) grew ever more heated. Heated mostly because Edward started growing some frames and holding his ground bit by bit, which then provoked them, which then—yeah, it was a vicious cycle.

Basically, it became a bit of a symbolic battle between the old local guard (the Edward and Thomas side) and the newer, stronger transplants (’86 and ’62). Gordon and Henry mostly stayed out of it. The thing is, they were by far the youngest engines on the railway, they were both still children really, and for all their bravado they were, deep down in their fireboxes, extremely wary of the Fat Director (have I mentioned lately that FC1 was a bastard? a scary bastard? do we recall that he bricked up Henry as public installation art to make an example of to promote fleet discipline for almost a year?) and yet on some level understanding that, misfits as they are, they do not have any options besides the Fat Director.

So mostly they just… wait and see. Oh, they have a big laugh whenever one or the other side suffers a setback… this period is probably where they really learned how to point and laugh at everyone else in such crushing unison… but they are 100% loyal only to each other. Secretly they spend a good deal of time trying to figure out which side will win, which side will get further. Gordon thinks it’s going to be ’62 and ’46: he doesn’t like them, but to his mind they obviously hold all the cards, it’s only proper they prevail. Henry’s not so sure. He can’t get over the signs that Edward—and, later, Thomas—seem to be in higher and higher favor, at least among the staff, increasingly so with FC1.

Henry is extra sensitive to those exact sorts of things—with his always-fickle steaming completely knackered since his tunnel confinement, with the knowledge that the board of directors are ready to write him off and that ’62 and ’46 stabbed him in the back when he first arrived, he is keenly aware of how insecure his position is. (That awareness does nothing to help his steaming problems. Quite the opposite.) However, I would never describe the Henry of this era as the softer, gentler counterpart to Gordon’s jerkassery. Not at all! Simultaneously proud while also nervey and self-conscious, Henry is often more peevish than Gordon during this time; Gordon at least has a strong front. Comfortable at least that he has Henry’s respect and submission, and confident in his abilities and performance, Gordon has the spoons to spare so that he can, when he chooses, be hearty or benevolent. Henry just doesn’t have that kind of bandwidth yet, and is often quite sour/petty.

1925-7:

James, who had arrived only to immediately wreck with a dramatic show of sparks, comes back from the Works completely rebuilt and repainted. During his overhaul Gordon and Henry had encountered big changes: the sheds at Vicarstown were (temporarily) emptied, with headquarters and the main line fleet moving to Tidmouth, where… no station pilot 😮

Gordon and Henry quite enjoyed having a go at this newcomer and his plethora of entertaining mistakes… and meanwhile when alone observing and analysing between themselves whether James would “take with” the old guard or the new guard. Thomas and Edward had both gotten off to a good start with James, but ’62 and ’46 tried to flatter the newcomer using the same routine with which they had blandished Henry on his arrival, and Henry looked on with disgust. I regret to say he never really even considered warning James. At that point, his entire world was just Gordon. Their lockstep alliance meant that almost no one else mattered to him.

Imagine Henry’s shock when the answer to the almost year-long question of whose follower James would become turned out to be… Gordon!

Honestly, this rocked Henry’s world and there was a good deal of simmering rivalry/jealousy between James and Henry after Gordon seemed to bestow on James a sort of honorary equality.

Also honestly? Gordon loved watching them compete for him. Alpha dog was in his element.

This now meant that there were three factions on the fleet: ’62’s, Edward’s, and now Gordon’s.

Also, the latter two factions were, for the moment, on pretty good terms with each other. ’62 was starting to think that becoming Top Engine In the Shed was way more trouble than it was worth… but then he got a bit of a break.

1928:

The pilot-less situation at Tidmouth dragged on. It really was untenable. The every-engine-for-himself scramble for their coaches and (some of) the trucks caused loads of confusion, delay, and drama. Stock was stolen and hidden; other engines’ jobs were sabotaged. The disunity of the fleet made what would already have been a tough situation way worse, because ’62 and Gordon alike were wily about exploiting it.

But, after three years, Gordon had had his fill of it. He’s always preferred a peaceful life. There was a workers’ strike earlier in the year, and Gordon, in his pretend-to-be-too-bored-to-notice way, absorbed a lot of new ideas and concepts as he watched and listened. He began recruiting the others.

Even his own faction was rather tricky to get on board. It cannot be emphasized enough how terrifying the idea of going up against FC1 was. But over time Henry and James became receptive. About a year had been spent just daydreaming aloud with each other, in private, but of course this spurred them on.

It helped that ’62 and ’46, who like all the other engines were approached privately with overtures of alliance, put on a good show and agreed that it was SHAMEFUL to treat TENDER ENGINES like this!! Down the bourgeoisie, and all that sort of rubbish!!!

Hmmm, yeah. When the time came to hold the line, there were ’62 and ’46, wide-eyed and innocent, having never heard the likes of this appalling insubordination…

Obviously the old guard didn’t participate in the strike either, and the Gordon faction took this bitterly because they were supposed to be on good terms with Edward, Thomas, etc. In their defense, however, the old guard never said they would support such action; they had been quite clear they wouldn’t. The ’62 faction, however, had pledged to fight alongside, and now here they were, eagerly “doing their bit” to “uphold management and good order” with a sugary and self-satisfied earnestness that even FC1 found kind of nauseating. The old guard, however, took ’62 and ‘46 at their word… or, at least, they didn’t openly question them. They didn’t exactly buddy up to the Blue Bastards and their hangers-on, but the relationship between them and the Big Three was strained severely due to the former’s “betrayal” and the latter’s “attacks.”

This gave the once-endangered ’62 and ‘46 a new lease on their Sodor lives. They were on tenuously civil terms with the “golden children.” And, when the Depression hit and it was time to downsize, it wasn’t easy for FC1 to explain to the board why engines who had helped keep the trains running during the strike should be sold on post haste, rather than the ones who had blown up the timetables and engaged in rebellion. Thus, they would remain and plague the railway for an average of eight more years.

*looks about at all our canon friends with hands on hips*

Good job, lads!

However, from Gordon’s and Henry’s perspective it had all been well worth it. For one thing, they had gotten a station pilot. Gordon had shown that his faction was not just “the neutral party,” but a force to be reckoned with. And there was now a tight bond forged between the three, ending the tensions between Henry and James for a couple of years.

Most of all, though, Henry, who had really struggled during the three years where he was pushed to shunt instead of rest in between trains that already taxed him so heavily, would never forget that strike. How bold and magnificent Gordon had been. How much he felt protected and allied and safe and strong when FC1 showed up to the sheds, already furious (it was a much fiercer confrontation than portrayed in the kids’ book!) and fuming that the useless old swindle had better not be up to another one of his bloody tricks, and Henry didn’t have to face him alone, how Gordon had said, so calmly and yet so firmly, “Henry’s not going.” It was a truly healing experience for him. (It was probably the seed that later sprung into Henry’s general belief in engine solidarity.)

He may have even beheld Gordon with rose-colored glasses because of this…

… for a while.

1929-1933:

The period between the strike and the Flying Kipper crash had been relatively undramatic. It was marked mostly by increasing “hard times.”

The factionalism of the ‘20s was soon left there. The N.W.R. was hit the least hard of all the railways on Sodor, but services contracted. There were rumors that Percy would be sold, but that never came to pass. Instead ’62 was gotten rid of early on in 1932, immediately after Christmas. The remaining engines (’46 aside) grew tighter, banding together against fears of a future that could be bleak for everyone.

Everyone did some quiet growing up in this era. Gordon and Henry, products of the Roaring Twenties, had never known what an economic downturn was, nor had ever contemplated that Hatt’s managerial and miserly strictness was due to anything but caprice. Now they sometimes had genuine fears for their railway and for the towns they served. James had more experience with the thing, but then again before coming to Sodor he had been more of a nihilist. Only on the N.W.R. had he ever been happy, he hated the thought of it “going bust,” and he wasn’t going to let it happen without a fight! “A fight” meaning James worked exceptionally hard during this period, and asked for very little—except for that lazywheels Henry to step it up, too!

Ah, poor Henry. His steaming troubles had only grown worse every passing year, till by the early ‘30s the only thing anyone could rely on him for was to require bailing out of his jobs. Henry felt keenly what the chronically disabled often face: Many others were tired of sympathizing with him and supporting him, so therefore they just assumed Henry was “getting on all right” even though he was still struggling as much as ever, and just as tired of it.

Now Henry actually had some true friends throughout this dark period, but he did grumble a lot that “no one” understood him, and by “no one” the truth was that he was really thinking about James and Gordon (plus some of the human crews, although he actually lucked into rostering with a superb duo after all the shuffling ‘round of both the workers’ and the engines’ strikes). Gordon’s increasing indifference hit him especially hard. It’s not that Gordon meant to be cruel, indeed Gordon said very little about the matter and never made the cracks about Henry’s slowness that James and Thomas did, nor even some of the completely misguided pep talks Edward and Percy sometimes sent Henry’s way. It’s just that Gordon stopped actively sympathising.

Henry had the bitter sense that Gordon had used Henry, offering him sympathy in return for Henry being his loyal follower during the ‘20s—but now that the social scene had settled, and a new station pilot procured, Gordon no longer had to pretend to care.

I don’t think any of it was nearly that calculated. Gordon simply fell into the very typical abled pitfall of “well, I’m tired of talking so much about this thing that cannot be changed, so I won’t,” while forgetting that Henry was just as tired of talking about it, but that Henry couldn’t just stop living this way. Which isn’t great, but Gordon’s sympathy had been sincere, and he didn’t stop feeling it. He had just run out of things to say and so he’d stopped asking or paying much attention. Gordon’s strength has never been emotional availability.

But Henry had once had as much of that from Gordon as Gordon ever had to give. As said, now he was bitter. He saw that Gordon and James were only getting closer and closer, and he felt left out and left behind, his hopes of one day having his mechanical problems cured diminishing year by year. He was not only bitter, but tired. It was a lot to carry, and it absolutely was not the sort of thing that Gordon was good at helping to carry.

1933-1935:

Once Henry was on Welsh coal, however (this was actually over two years before his wreck, and he in fact pulled dozens of successful flying kippers before his fateful night), the tables were turned! In short order, Henry no longer felt scared of anyone—no one on the rails, that is (he was still quite leery of the board of directors). As his confidence improved, so did most of his relationships, and indeed he started making new friends of little engines and machines he’d never before given the time of day to (he had adopted some ‘big engine’ rhetoric to justify that, but the truth had really been that in his early years he hadn’t the spoons to go out of his way to talk to anyone whom he could get away with ignoring). Post-Welsh coal and pre-Flying Kipper, Henry started to show signs of… extraversion. Popularity, even.

It was Gordon’s turn to feel forgotten and dismayed!

It did not help their growing rift in the '30s that Gordon himself, once so invincible, was having some of his own mechanical problems. They were much more minor than Henry's had been, of course, but then again Henry's now seemed a thing of the past, and Gordon's were only getting worse.

It had never been easy to be cover the express without Gordon—even '62 and '46, fellow prototypes, had had their issues that, while not leaving them as unreliable as Henry, did mean that they too could not be entrusted with express trains solo. Thus Gordon had been worked hard since his arrival to the N.W.R. Not only was a heavy overhaul more urgent with each passing season, but Gordon's third cylinder and corrugated valve gear had been the recurring nightmare of Crovan's Gate all along in any case. (The CME had actually once resigned, nearly on the point of a nervous breakdown. FC1 brought him back on board, knowing he couldn't get anyone better—and greenlighting an effort to start drawing ideas for a rebuild that would, above all, simplify Gordon's maintenance.)

Gordon did all he could to downplay the trouble his Gresley cylinders and valve gear gave... which, of course, had been easier to do before Henry's Welsh coal. Afterwards, everyone had more bandwidth to notice (and tease), so Gordon more often gave up his brave face and did a lot more complaining about how much he suffered for the sake of carrying this railway, and how disgracefully unappreciated he was!

Everyone was rather glad when 1935 drew to a close, for after the Christmas/New Year rush Gordon was finally to be sent to the Works for several months of intensive repairs. Henry, James, and even '46 were doing well enough that all the engines were confident they could get through the slow season comfortably enjoying a break from Gordon's bluster.

And that’s where they were that fateful early morning when snow forced down the signal at Killdane.

1936-1937:

Not shown in "Gordon's Whistle" was the degree to which the engines had suffered grief and trauma during Henry's long absence at Crewe. James in particular, who had been drafted to help clear the carnage and retrieve what appeared to be left of Henry, was deeply troubled. In contrast to Edward (who was more professional about breakdown duty, and who had also put in most of the last decade keeping his damn mouth shut about his own grief), James described the aftermath of the Flying Kipper wreck in hush-voiced detail to all the rest of their circle... thus upsetting the hell out of Thomas and Percy, too. Many a night various engines whispered to each other the question of whether Henry would ever really return, or what state he would be in.

What was shown in "Gordon's Whistle": the degree to which Gordon never acknowledged the gravity of the matter. He boilerached endlessly about how his own overhaul had been delayed again, he grumbled in great self-pity about how he struggled bravely through the rest of the winter, he found endless ways to re-frame the events of the night to somehow make the wreck Henry's fault. (It was a great deal easier to cope with a "he got what he deserved, hope he learns his lesson" narrative than with "sometimes terrible things happen and you can't avoid them, dear god i hope i'm not next.") Normally James and Percy would have been on hand at Tidmouth to destroy him for this, but they were both uncharacteristically subdued during this period, and Thomas was just as uncertain as to what to think or do. So, apart from various times when Edward was drafted to (temporarily) tamp down this unbearable vitriol, Gordon got away with running his smokebox for months.

Henry's triumphant return wiped away a great deal of this troubled time for everyone. They had not only worried he might be broken beyond repair in body, but in mind; however, Henry was on cloud nine. For the first time in his life, he felt right: a sort of physical euphoria in his own form. As a bonus, his experience "abroad" gave him the usual benefits of travel. He'd finally gotten to see a very different railway, and had met more engines over the course of his months at Crewe than there were on the entire N.W.R. It was all very broadening. In every respect, the ugly duckling had turned into a confident, badass swan...

... aaaand it was amazing how quickly Gordon was able to crush him. If it hadn't been for the timing of that whistle malfunction, Henry might have never fully recovered from being yanked back down into the mud by his supposedly-closest-friend, his formerly-biggest-supporter, his foster-brother.

Luckily Sodor karma did decide to trim Gordon's wheels right away, and in addition Henry was soon assigned to split Gordon's workload so as to help nurse Gordon until his own overhaul...so Henry got a chance to recover his new perspective. When Gordon overcame the humiliation and again attempted to have a go at Henry, Henry was ready—and snapped back at once.

Over the course of the next months, they fussed, quarreled, gave each other the silent treatment, and then quarreled again—and Gordon was clearly getting the worst of it!—when, to an exasperated FC1's relief, Henry requested to be transferred to Vicarstown.

I've described the next few years elsewhere: exactly as in (the highly adapted, loosely inspired-by-reality) "Forever and Ever," Gordon was blindsided, professed utter confusion, was genuinely hurt, and nearly lost his damn mind. Just because he'd been trashing Henry's name and using him as a punching bag for five solid years didn't mean that they weren't best friends!

Literally everyone, including good ol' '46: Uhhh, actually mate, it kinda does?

Gordon: *mind. blown.*

Meanwhile, Henry thoroughly enjoyed living his own life, not in Gordon's shadow or answering to him for... well... anything. He took the westbound expresses during this time and made mates with the engines on the eastern end of the network (except '46, who soon after Henry's transfer found himself relegated to the status of Vicarstown spare engine—and Henry enjoyed rubbing salt in his wounds waaaaayy too much), got to continue to make frequent trips into L.M.S. territory, and just generally glowed with well-deserved pride and satisfaction. He had not only survived a bloody awful first fifteen years of life but had learned to thrive.

1938-1939:

To really pile on Gordon's burdens post-Flying Kipper (we must never forget he was the real victim there!), he still, even after waiting and working for yet another year, did not get the much anticipated heavy overhaul. Henry's rebuild had been a huge expense and, while it was an obvious success, there was a Great Depression on and the N.W.R.'s finances were bleak.

Then, come '38, there arrived... the dynanometer coach.

FC1 borrowed this from the LNER, ostensibly just to "see if we should invest in one of our own," but in reality the point was to compare the performances of Gordon, Henry, and James, especially on express services... and you had better believe they all figured this out straight away.

The ensuing drama rattled the rails and raised station and shed roofs... even before the results were found out.

"Henry II" and James beat out Gordon's performance in nearly every category that the dynanometer could measure.

The entire railway was just basically "! ! ! ! ! !" for a solid month.

Trucks made songs about it.

(So did Thomas.)

Henry, however, kept his distance, and did not boast about this. He felt sorry for Gordon—although he was smart enough to say nothing about that, either. Behind the scenes, he tried to get the others, especially James (who! was! ECSTATIC!) to cool off rubbing this in Gordon's smokebox ("he would do it to us??!?!?!!?!!!" "shuddup you circus engine, Gordon's been magnificent to you, show a little gratitude?" "... no")

I can't even tell you what Gordon thought. He was clearly in a state of shock, eventually ceding to a state of general droopy moping that was... eeriely Henry I-ish, as a matter of fact.

But he did not roar or rage. Well, at the trucks and at Thomas, sure. But not at James, and not at Henry, to whom he offered stuffy, stilted congratulations like the gentleman that he is.

James made him regret his good sportsmanship. But Henry and Gordon's mutual maturity about this event went a good way in repairing their relationship. They started to exchange smiles as they passed, and, more and more often, not merely civil but genuine conversation when they met up. All right, more often than not they complained about their orders or disparaged other engines, but, hey! That had always kind of been their thing! They were getting back into their groove, only on a healthier, more equal footing! This was good!

Gordon almost immediately cherished hopes that this meant Henry would "come to his senses and return home"... but Henry didn't play that way, and Gordon submitted to the dash of cold water his various confidantes threw on this idea... well, with shameless puppy-dog eyes... but otherwise with good grace.

He was soon busy with his own affairs, as it turned out that FC1, utterly unsurprised by the dynanometer findings, presented them to the Board as evidence that Gordon required a mainland rebuild of his own. There had been talk of this rebuild for years, and Gordon had always loathed the thought, but after the disgrace of the summer trial he had quite a different point of view, and for the most part was now eager for the improvements that an important and useful engine like him deserved! To the degree he was nervous, talking to Henry about Henry's experience at Crewe definitely helped to prepare him. So off Gordon was sent; they removed his third cylinder, redid his running board, blah blah blah, and by the end of spring '39 he was a magnificent Gresley/Stanier/Hatt hybrid the uniqueness of which he gloried... though he gloried even more when a good many of the principles of his improved design were promptly applied to the rest of his old class! Wartime prep favored simpler designs for quicker maintenance, and so Gordon was essentially the prototype for the "A3s" to the same degree he had been the prototype for them all as "A1s."

(This should bring us back to a previous point: Gordon's bitching after Henry's return about "a shape good enough for him is good enough for me"? Oh, it was stroppy and self-centered all right, but to give the full context here, please remember that Gordon is literally a prototype, and that Crovan's Gate's attempts to fix Henry had always centered around making him more Gordon-like. This is Gordon's identity, so a rejection of Gordon's shape hit him on a much deeper level than it would have most engines. But now, returned to his original role as Mechanical Marvel and Trailblazer, that old blow to Gordon's pride was set aright, and another shade from the "Whistle" blow-up was put to rest.)

1939-1945:

Gordon, like Henry, received a warm welcome when he returned from Crewe. To the degree the enthusiasm for "Gordon II" was tempered by the looming inevitability of total war and as well as lacking the whole near-death experience thing, Gordon had grace enough to not carp about this... much.

And, the moment war preparations got underway on Sodor, Henry immediately returned to Tidmouth.

Gordon saw him roll back into the yard, which was abuzz with soldiers, strange aircraft, and dangerous new shipments, and smiled.

Nothing needed to be said. They got to work side-by-side at once, and endured the next six years together. Like brothers.

[serenity-songbird]

(Happy Valentine's Day everyone!!! 💝💝💝 my husband and I spent the day lounging around the house...It was a great day!!! I love just sitting around eating Valentine's chocolate and watching TV while cuddling. 🥰🥰🥰 Here is a Valentine's Day special with my favorite character, Kyle Broflovski!!! 😘😘😘)

"Take my hand. I'll teach you to dance.

I'll spin you around. Won't let you fall down."

Kyle hesitantly took your hand.

He wasn't much of a dancer. But seeing you in your beautiful red dress, how could he say no?

You smiled softly as you sang to him. You had such an angelic voice.

"Would you let me lead? You can step on my feet.

Give it a try. It'll be alright."

He stumbled a bit as you spun and he tried to steady you.

You were a dancer. As he watched you spin so gracefully and expertly, he fell more in love.

Your expression was of pure happiness and love.

He wanted to see more. So he let you lead.

"The rooms hush hush and now's our moment.

Take it in, feel it, all and hold it.

Eyes on you. Eyes on me. We're doing this right."

He joined you in singing. You were the harmony and he was the melody.

You both knew this song by heart.

After all, this song was playing during your rehearsal. The place where he confessed his love for you.

With your voices in sync, you believed you sounded more beautiful than the original singers. The karaoke machine was playing on the outdoor table.

The lights hanging around the backyard made you glow brighter in the dark of night. You were a stunning sight.

"Cause lovers dance when their feeling in love.

Spotlight shining it's all about us.

It's aaall about uuus."

He started to get the hang of it with your teaching and soon you were dancing in sync.

He may have accidentally stepped on your heels once or twice, but you laughed it off.

"And every heart in the room will melt.

This is a feeling I've never felt, but

It's aaall about uuus."

He got more and more into it as the song continued. You both were singing to each other with all the love you held.

You didn't even notice Kyle's mom recording the whole thing and leaning on her husband with soft smiles. She was happy that her son found somone like you.

You were his and he was yours.

"Suddenlyyy, I'm feeling braaave.

Don't know what's gotten into meee.

Or why I feeeeeel this waaay.

Can we daaance reeeal slooow?

Can I hooold you? Can I hooold you clooose?"

He was never a dancer. Sure he and his friends formed a band and sung and dance...but that was different.

This...This is something special...Something... amazing...

He was always shit on and made fun of. People hated listening to his speeches and him and his friends were falling apart...

But you...you were always there...

Supporting him. Loving him.

Even when all the girls and boys were against each other, your love never faded.

You never left. You stayed to comfort him.

He could never repay you for everything you got him through. For making all the pain and insecurities melt away.

That's why he wanted to give you the best Valentine's Day ever.

Because of you, he changed for the better.

You made him feel...alive. Brave. Confident.

He wanted to give you the world.

As you resang the choruses in beautiful harmony, the memories of the day flashed thtough his mind.

He prepared everything perfectly. He literally prayed that nothing would go wrong. That for once South Park wouldn't have some sort of disaster ruin everything.

For once, his prayers were answered.

He got up that morning and opened his window.

There you were. Waking up from your slumber. As you turned, you saw him and smiled.

He signaled at you to open your window and you did. He used a selfie stick (lol. Very resourceful.) To securely and safely give you a gift basket. Inside was a stuffed bear holding a pot of fake flowers. They had felt and smelled so real. (Real flowers die and make a mess. He wanted to give you something that would last). There were also chocolates and your favorite goodies. You loved the golden earrings he had gotten you. Gold surrounding (F/C) roses.

You couldn't stop smiling as you open the beautiful, hand-made letter enclosed in the flowers.

To my Darling,

I know this is pretty corny...But I wanted give you something that will last forever. You are always there for me when I need you. You're my world and I appreciate all the things you do for me. So let me repay you by making our second Valentine's Day and 1 year anniversary the best day ever. I love you with all my heart.

Here's to many more Valentine's Days/Anniversaries to come.

From your Beloved,

Kyle B. ♡

You had to cover your mouth as happy tears formed in your eyes. You rushed into you closet to give him his gift using the same method.

He opened the gift bag to reveal his favorite snacks. He wasn't big on sweets so he appreciated the salty snacks you got him. He was ecstatic to see the last book from his favorite series. He had been trying to find this volume for ages. Now he can finally see the ending of the hero's journey.

Then there was the black box. When he opened it, he was suprised to find a golden chain with Together hanging from it.

He looked at you in question that soon turned to understanding. You held up a golden necklace that said forever. It was a matching pair. Except his was more masculine and yours was pretty and feminine.

His eyes sparkled as he saw the joy in your eyes.

You both had dressed up in your nicest clothes and spent the day together doing various things. Ice skating, going out for ice cream, and just having a romantic stroll through the woods that was blossoming with flowers. (Thankfully, spring was coming early this year).

Then as the sun set, he had one more surprise for you. He lead you to his backyard and you gasped. You hadn't noticed it before, but before when you were getting ready he set up the backyard with dozens of all your favorite flowers (at least 8 different types). He had also strung up lights and the patio to look organized and romantic.

He ordered ahead of time and you both sat at the table eating a romantic dinner of yours and his favorite restaurant. He had even brought dessert to share. It tasted amazing.

After you had finished eating, you ran into your house to get something and came back with a Karaoke machine.

He was a bit wary at first, but he couldn't say no to your doe eyes...so here you are now.

"Do you heeear that, Looove their playing ooour sooong?

Do you think we're ready? Oh, I'm really feeling it!

Do you hear that, Looove? Do you hear that, Looove?

Do you hear that, Looove. Their playing our song.

Do you think we're ready and Oh I'm really feeling it!

Do you hear that, Love?

Do you hear that, Looove!?"

It felt like something had taken over him. Now he was leading you singing his heart out.

You're duet matched the rhythm of your dancing and felt more...alive you could say.

Maybe he wasn't that bad of a dancer after all...

"Do you hear that, Looove their playing our sooong!

Do you think we're ready and Oh I'm really feeling it!

Do you hear that Love!

Do you hear that Looove!!!"

You were both letting your Love shine out to the world. Neither of you cares who heard.

Right now, you were the only two in the world.

{"Cause lovers dance when their feeling in love.

Spotlight shining it's all about uuus.

It's aaall about uuus.

It's aaall!!!

Every heart in the room will melt, this is a feeling I've never felt!!!

Buuut it's aaall about uuus!!! (Chorus repeated x2}

It's all about us...♡♡♡"

The moment you sang the last note, Kyle pulled you in for a kiss. He wanted to show you all the emotions you made him feel.

It felt like fireworks were going off while butterflies fluttered around in your stomach and electricity shocked your lips.

If you weren't out in the open, the kiss might have gotten more heated. Alas, knowing this you pulled away and you both just held each other. Necklaces clinking together.

Everything was perfect.

...

"Ooohhh. My hubby is growing up too fast!" Kyle's mom finally revealed herself as she wiped her tears.

You both spun around in embarrassed that his parents literally watched you kissing...

"That's my boy!"

"Mom!!! Dad!!!" Kyle's face was bright red. "This is a private moment!!!"

"Oh, I know. I just couldn't help but record this beautiful moment. You'll cherish this video for years to come." Shelia put her hands over her heart.

Kyle covered his face with his hands and you couldn't help but giggle.

"Mooom. Pleeeaaase..."

"Okay. Okay. We'll leave you two alone." Gerald guided his wife into the house, well giving a thumbs up.

"I'm so sorry about my parents..." You laughed.

"It's okay! They are sweet. Besides, when we get older, wouldn't it be so romantic to watch the video?" You smiled up at him.

Kyle sighed then his face softened. "I suppose it would be, huh?"

You then smiled mischievously. You pulled Kyle towards you and brushed your lips against his ear.

"My parents are out of the house spending the night at a hotel...How about you and I get some privacy and I can give you another Valentine's Day gift...I guarentee you're going to love it..." You kissed the shell of his ear.

Kyle gulped as he suddenly got excited. "I-I mean if Y-you really w-want to...I w-would love t-to..." He couldn't help the stutter as he got nervous and excited.

You smiles seductively and lead him into you house and up into your room.

Let's just say, you really showed him how much you loved him...It was a very steamy night.

Best Valentine's Day ever. ♡♡♡

~Fin~

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!!!

Here's your daily dose of love. 😘😘😘