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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 months ago

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M.I.A.

Summary: When Colter Shaw calls the reader for help on a job, she thinks nothing of helping out. Only he never shows up and Colter may have just become the latest disappearance in this small town. It’s up to her and Russell to work together to find him before his case goes cold like all the others before…

He's My Man Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 6,500ish

Warnings: language, kidnapping, violence, torture, mentions of death

A/N: Welcome back to more Russell Shaw! This story is considered a timestamp to He's My Man and it's highly recommended that story be read prior to this one. With Tracker coming up again soon I wanted to dive back into this world with these characters and thought this would be a fun way to check in with the gang. Please enjoy!...

________

“Thanks,” you said to the waitress who refilled your coffee. The diner was quiet, the mid-afternoon lull between the lunch and dinner crowd. You poked at the slice of chocolate pie in front of you and scrolled through your phone, an anxious feeling growing in your gut.

Colter had called last night, asking if you’d be willing to come out and act as his date at a gala event where he was investigating a young woman’s disappearance. Admittedly, you were a bit nervous to accept. You’d only been doing reward work for six months and you’d had success so far with tracking down a few show dogs, a horse, a signed Mickey Mantle baseball card and a stolen car. But you hadn’t dipped your toe into the truly hard stuff yet. People.

After Colter got you to put the phone on speaker, he and Russell had wore you down and convinced you this would be a good first run. It was Colter’s case, you were simply there to help and offer input.

Flirting with a rich playboy Colter suspected of kidnapping the missing woman while he searched the house was also up there on his request list.

It was only a three hour drive to the small town from home and Russell had an important meeting with a brewery investor at lunch so you decided to help him do some last minute prep in the morning before agreeing to catch up with Colter for lunch at a diner. Yet, it was a few minutes past three and you’d heard nothing from him since around midnight the night before.

“Fuck it,” you said, slapping down a ten dollar bill and dialing.

“Hello, hello, qark,” answered Russell, his voice cheery and bright.

“Your lunch went well I’m assuming?” He hummed. “Don’t leave me hanging. What’d you settle on?”

“He gets 5% profit sharing after the first year for five years. By then he said we’d be well established and probably wouldn’t need him anymore. He was a good guy, invited us to get dinner with him and his wife sometime.”

“That’s great, honey,” you said, turning when the bell over the door rang, pouting to find it was a pair of older men that took a seat at a booth. “You haven’t heard from Colter at all, have you?”

“No…he never showed for lunch?” You sighed. “He could have been arrested.”

“Russell,” you chided.

“He gets arrested and Reenie bails him out all the time,” he said. “I just texted her. I bet he’s sitting in the station right now because he pissed off some local power hungry…shit.”

“Shit what?” you asked, taking a big, stress induced bite of pie.

“Reenie said she hasn’t heard from him.” Russell groaned in the background. You closed your eyes. Today was supposed to be a good day for him. The last thing you wanted was him worrying about his little brother.

“I bet he ate some bad food, puked his guts up in the airstreamer and is sleeping it off. He said he was staying at the Sunny Days Park. I’ll go meet up with him there-”

“I’m coming out there,” said Russell. You rolled your eyes. “If he’s so sick he can’t pick up a phone then he needs help and that girl he’s looking for needs help too.”

“Fine,” you said, your heart rate spiking when you stood. “He’s probably just being his usual anti-social self, right?”

“Yeah. He’s totally known for being flaky on jobs,” deadpanned Russell. “Just…I’m not going to ask you to wait at the diner for me but be careful. Keep your gun on you and you call me when you get to his trailer. I have a bad feeling.”

“Me too,” you whispered. “I’ll call you in ten, Russ.”

You’d frowned when you found Colter’s truck parked in front of the airstream fifteen minutes later. Your pout remained when you cleared the the area and the inside of the trailer, carefully tucking your gun away into the holster on the back of your jeans. “He’s not here, Russell.”

“Anything look off?” he asked through the headphones in your ears. The space at first glance didn’t look out of the ordinary. Computer and maps on the kitchenette table. Coffee mug upside down on the drying rack next to the sink. You stopped short and squatted down, cocking your head.

“There are two pairs of shoes tucked under the table. Boots and trail running shoes.”

“Okay…” You stood up and sighed.

“Russell, I lived in this trailer for a few days and Colter is a minimalist. There are two pairs of shoes here and he only owns two pairs of shoes. So he’s walking around barefoot? That’s-”

“Not good,” sighed Russell. “Do you see any sign of struggle? Blood? Anything weird? Or missing?”

“Not that I can tell. I didn’t exactly do an inventory of his closet when…” Your eyes zeroed in on a tiny black speck in the corner. “He has a security camera.”

“Call Bobby, see if he can get the footage from a cloud server or something. I’ll call back in a few once I’m on the road.”

“Drive safe, hun.”

“You be safe. Anything feels fishy, get to a public place and stay there until I get in.”

“I know. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Two minutes later you were on Colter’s computer, Bobby sending you a link to the 24 hour cloud account where Colter’s subscription was saved to once a day.

There were two feeds, one right over the door to the air streamer and the other a wide angled shot staring down the entire length of the trailer. You backed it up to midnight, watching Colter sitting right where you currently were, texting and finishing off his beer. He stretched and stood, putting the empty under the sink.

He hit off a light and you sped it up, Colter padding out once to get a glass of water during the night. You smiled when he got up around six, an unusually cuddly version of Colter appearing on screen. He had a blanket wrapped around his bare shoulders as he shuffled over to his coffee machine, getting a cup brewing.

It reminded you of Russell in the morning. He too had a habit of walking around with a blanket first thing. You wondered if that was a Shaw thing or a habit Colter picked up from his big brother when they were kids.

You watched Colter disappear into the bedroom, exiting in a black tight pullover along with fitted pants for running. He sat at the booth and tugged on his sneakers before knocking back his coffee. He glanced at his phone quickly and tucked it into his pocket before he was gone, the interior still. The video was motionless for another hour when Colter came back inside, a thin layer of sweat on his face. Sneakers were removed and socks tossed into the bedroom, Colter taking deep gulps from a bottle of water. He tucked it back in the fridge and headed for the bedroom when suddenly the airstream door opened.

Three men in black masks bounded inside, one holding a bulky looking gun. Colter didn’t get more than a step in before cords shot out and you realized he’d been tased. Your heart caught in your throat as he fell to the floor hard, body rigid. His face was etched in pain as he slowly moved his arm but the men were on him fast. Punch to the face, hands zip tied behind his back, tape over his mouth. Colter was out cold when they threw a hood over his head and he was lifted off the ground by a man on either side of him. They quickly left, no one appearing until you found yourself on tape hours later.

“Colter,” you breathed out, looking out the windows, as if he’d suddenly appear safe and sound there. Shakily you dialed Russell, your head in your hands.

“Hey. You hear from Bobby at all?” You tried to keep your breathing calm, remember the stress management techniques you’d learned in med school.

You winced, Russell’s voice loud on the other end. “Y/N, answer me.”

“I watched the tape. Russ, s-someone took him. They took Colter right out of the airstream this morning and-”

“Where are you?” You lifted your head, Russell growling. “Where?”

“In the air-”

“Leave right now, right fucking now,” he said. You grabbed the phone, Colter’s computer and a stack of papers nearby before rushing out of there. “Are you out?”

“Yes, I’m in my car,” you said with a pant, tossing everything in your passenger seat and taking off out of the campground.

“Go back to that diner and I’ll meet you there in two hours. If anyone tries anything-”

“I know,” you sighed. “Don’t speed to get here. The last thing we need is you in an accident.”

“Diner. Two hours. Be there.”

Two Hours Later

You munched on a basket of once warm fries as you heard the bell over the door jingle. You eased slightly when Russell headed your direction, wrapping you up in a big hug. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Russ, I swear.” You sat back in your corner booth, Russell sliding in the opposite side, getting a cup of coffee and burger for himself before you ordered dinner. “How are you holding up?”

Russell didn’t say anything, just had that look on his face he did right before he killed Owen. Honestly, you shared that sentiment. Colter had your back when you were strangers and now when you were family? Yeah, someone was going to pay and dearly.

“Bobby’s been running the video through his programs but couldn’t ID any of the guys. They ditched Colter’s phone outside the airstreamer so no leads there,” you said, passing the computer over to Russell. He watched the video, his eyes twitching momentarily before he took a long, deep breath.

“Can we trace these guys phones?” You shook your head.

“Bobby tried. No cell activity in the nearby area before or after they…” You swallowed the lump in your throat, Russell reaching across the table and taking your hand in his. “The team’s been trying to find who took Colter while I’ve been looking into his research on the case. I figure he found out who took the woman or got real close without realizing it and that person took him.”

“Smart girl.” Russell cracked a smile, a heavy weight quickly settling back over the table. “But I have a problem with it.”

You nodded, keeping your lips sealed as his food was delivered and you got a plate of eggs and hashbrowns set down before you. “Me too. It doesn’t make sense to take him unless they wanted to know something he knows and they figured he wouldn’t crack immediately.”

“Yup. Aren’t you supposed to go to a party with him tonight?” You stopped with a forkful halfway to your mouth. Russell cocked his head. “He got an invite to that party. For two people. They must think he has a partner and that the partner knows everything Colter does.”

You set your fork down, Russell forcing a smile. “They’re looking for me. Those people are probably hurting him-”

“Hey,” said Russell, voice quiet. Gentle. “They took him because he found out something these people don’t want him to know and he didn’t realize it, not because of you. Let’s figure out what that is and then we’ll come up with a game plan.”

“Okay. Let’s figure this out.”

Forty minutes later, two clean plates and Russell making more than one odd face at the computer screen did it hit you. You slid Colter’s notebook with the name of the party over, Russell’s eyebrow quirking. “What?”

“These people don’t know who I am, otherwise I’d be gone. Colter wanted me to go to this party with him, right? Well, let’s go to the party.” Russell leaned back, closing his eyes. “Isn’t the most likely scenario that the person that took this girl also took Colter? And they clearly are powerful enough to have a few guys working for them. Let’s go to the party full of rich people and see what we can sus out.”

“Y/N.” Russell sighed, rubbing his temple with his palm. “It’s way too dangerous. Just because someone hasn’t come after you doesn’t mean they won’t. We need to figure out what Colter stumbled on-”

“This party,” you said, holding up the notebook, slapping it down. Russell clenched his jaw, relaxing after a beat. “The only research Colter did was on this girl and then there’s the party invite. He wanted to go there for a reason.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, picking it up, flipping through the pages. “How’d he get the invitation in the first place?”

“It’s a charity fundraiser. Anyone in town can go as far as I can tell,” you said. “All I know is he wanted me to be a distraction.”

“Distraction…” Russell typed on Colter’s computer, biting his bottom lip. “Party’s at some older rich dude’s house. Francis Duvel. Sounds like a real upstanding community member.”

“That’s not surprising the wealthy guy is hosting a charity event.” Russell’s eye twitched before he spun around the screen. Your eyes flickered down, reading a headline.

Duvel Industries Once Again Cleared of Safety Allegations; Whistleblower Drops Suit as CEO Vows Quality & Integrity Valued Over Profits

“I couldn’t figure it out earlier but there’s been a pattern of people going missing every so often in this town. Men. Women. Old. Young. Never kids or teens. Always adults. Your missing girl, Alexis Pearson works at-”

“Duvel Industries,” you said, flipping through a paper. “Executive assistant. You think-”

“Poor girl probably found out they were cutting corners somewhere and she said something to the wrong person.” He handed you back the computer and sure enough, all of the people that had “left” town or simply gone missing had at one point or another worked for Duvel Industries.

“How did no one figure this out before? It’s obvious what’s going on,” you said, Russell looking around. “Wait. You think…”

“Article said the local cops found no issues and never have. This charity auction is for the community including-”

“Fuck,” you muttered. “He’s got the sheriff in his pocket, likely a few more cops. No wonder Colter couldn’t just turn over what he found. He couldn’t trust them.”

“He should have called me,” said Russell, closing the computer. He shook his head, staring out at the cloudy evening sky. “I have a friend in the bureau. I could have…”

“So let’s call your friend, get the FBI up here to take a look at Duvel and in the meantime, try to find Colter and Alexis.” For the first time he looked worried and it made your heart clench. “What is it?”

“Alexis is probably already dead and when FBI agents show up at Duvel’s front door, he’s going to kill Colt and the girl if they aren’t already. Y/N, we have to find him tonight.”

“Okay,” you said, getting up and pulling him into your side of the booth, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Screw the party. That was Colter’s plan. Ours needs to be more direct.”

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Duvel isn’t stupid enough to keep him or Alexis at a place where he’s having the whole town come to, right? So where would you hide them as a CEO?” He smiled, kissing your cheek before pulling out his phone.

“Bobby, it’s Russell. I need the address of every property owned by Duvel Industries asap.”

One Hour Later

“How do you know it’s this one?” you asked Russell as you got out of his car. He went to the trunk, resting his head against the open thing. “What’s wrong?”

“I know because this place is isolated, it’s been under construction for years with no progress but the tire tracks we saw were fresh. It’s Duvel’s dumping ground.” He straightened up, hands on his hips. “Qark.”

He didn’t have to say it. He wanted you to stay here, out of danger. He’d wanted you away from this kind of life and said it more than once.

Russell reached inside the trunk and opened a black duffel, holding out a black vest to you. It was much smaller than the one he and Colter fit in though. You took the vest, followed by Russell handing you a thigh holster. “I thought you were going to tell me to stay in the car.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I want you to stay here,” he said, bending down to buckle the straps against your thigh, pulling it taut. He looked up with a half-smile before taking your gun from the back holster and putting it inside, tossing the other one in the trunk.

“What are…” He zipped up your jacket all the way and pulled the vest on over your shoulders, fixing your hood before tightening the sides so the vest hung tight to your body. “Russell.”

He shrugged, green eyes nervous but gentle. “You have let me teach you self-defense, how to reload and shoot, tactics and stealth so you’d be safe doing reward work. You’ve done it all without complaint. I want you to stay at the car but I know my queen of darkness. You can do this. You told me once before you wanted me to show you how to do things, not do them for you. So let’s go do this together.”

You smiled, running your hand over the vest. “How long have you had this?”

“I bought it the first reward job you took. I figured someday you’d need it.” He put on his own gear and locked the car, inhaling deeply. “If you want to change your mind-”

“That building is massive. You can’t go in alone.” He nodded, closing his eyes. “Am I liability to you? Serious question. If I go in there with you, does it make things harder if Colter is in there?”

Russell peeled open his eyes, smirking as he planted both hands on your face and kissed you hard.

“I always worry, qark. Whether you’re in there or out there.” He touched his forehead to yours, hot breath fanning over you. “You do not have to go in. Absolutely you do not have to. But if my girl wants to do this with me, then I’m glad I’ve got her for a partner.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, Russell lifting you up into a hug.

“But if shit goes down, you run.” You shrugged, Russell groaning. “Alright, alright, Rambo. Follow my lead and stick close. Bobby’s going to contact my friend in two hours if he doesn't hear from us so let’s get a move on.”

“Age before beauty,” you said. He narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah, keep it up youngin’ and next time you’re in that outfit I’ll teach you a lesson.” You glanced down to his groin, Russell growling. “Y/N.”

“Sorry.” He nodded, checking his gun before letting in hang by his side.

“Stay low and quiet. Clear your corners and don’t hesitate to use your weapon. You sure you want to go in?”

“Let’s do this.” Russell checked your gear one more time before you headed into the forest, jogging through it for a moment. You stopped at the edge when Russell held up a hand. He reached into his back pocket, revealing a small scope. You knelt by his side, looking around as he mumbled to himself.

“Good news and bad news. Good news is there’s only one vehicle and it’s a car which means most likely there’s four guys or less. Could be more but odds aren’t in favor. No cameras from what I can tell. Bad news is two outside guards. It’s going to be hard to get in.” You pursed your lips. “What are you thinking?”

“If we each get one-”

“Y/N,” Russell scolded. You frowned, his face softening. “Those guys are huge. Odds are they grab you before you get the guy out cold.”

“Russell. I fought off Owen when I was roofied when I was younger. You have taught me so many moves. I wouldn’t risk Colter if I didn’t know that I can take out a guy that size. Trust me. Please.” He lowered his head, shoulders sagging.

“If he’s not going down, shoot him.” You agreed and then the two of you were jogging across the dark grass, coming to a stop against the concrete wall of the building. Russell pointed you forward and you went ahead of him, gun in front of you, squeezing the cold metal tight.

The guard rounded the corner quickly though, startled by the sight of you. You ducked fast, Russell’s fist flying out where your head had been. It connected hard with the guard’s jaw and he slumped against the wall, crumpling down in a heap. You stood up, Russell tapping your shoulder before stepping in front of you. After a moment the guard was restrained, tape over his mouth. Russell peaked around the corner before holding up a hand for you to stay back before he disappeared.

Ten seconds later he returned, body slightly less tense. He nodded and you jogged over to him, keeping behind him as you went through the door and past the other out cold guard with hands and feet secured.

The building was large, some warehouse space, offices on either side. Russell sighed silently before going left. You walked backwards behind him for a few minutes as he cleared room after room after room with nothing to show.

“It’s taking too long,” he whispered. “I can’t check every room fast enough if the guards check in on a schedule.”

“I can finish the hall. Do the other side. You’re faster without me,” you murmured. Russell stared at you for five seconds then planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Be safe. I’ll be right back.” Silently, he went the way you’d came from and disappeared around the corner. You turned your attention back on the six or so offices to go with a thick swallow. Without Russell by your side, your nerves came front and center. But you couldn’t stand there forever. There was probably someone else inside and Colter wouldn’t hesitate if you were in his shoes.

You steadied yourself and cleared a dark, empty office, then another. The second to last door pushed open easily, bright light hitting you in the face.

There was barely enough time to register Colter in a chair, someone behind him with a knife and then the man’s hand was moving fast towards his throat.

The trigger pulled hard as you squeezed it once, twice, three times. You couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears as you did wide sweeps of the room. No one else was in there and after finding the man slumped on the ground was dead, you rushed to Colter who’s head hung low.

“Colter. Colter,” you urged. He was shaking as you tilted his chin up, a thin line of red on his throat but not deep. You closed your eyes. Fuck, a second later and Colter would have already bled out by now.

But something wasn’t right. His clothes were wet, skin ice cold. Your eyes darted upwards when you felt cold air conditioning kick on overhead. It was only then that you noticed the dead man was wearing a winter jacket for some reason.

You checked Colter over after cutting him free, a few bruises on the face, bruised ribs from his labored breathing and you winced when you patted his shin and felt how swollen it was. You cut up his pants leg and saw the deep bruising, very highly a broken bone in there.

Another gun shot rang out nearby and you spun around with your gun, aiming at the door. Russell appeared a few moments later, sighing in relief. But his face fell when he saw Colter violently shaking in the chair, arms wrapped tight around himself.

“What’s-”

“He’s hypothermic,” you said, cutting up his pants, Colter shaking his head. “We need to get him out of these wet clothes and warmed up now.”

“Y/N-”

“Russell, he’s not stable.” You finished cutting off his pants and had his pullover halfway off. “Call your FBI friend and tell him we need a med evac to a level 1 trauma center. In the meantime, go kill the A/C and get my med kit from the car.”

“Got it,” he said, turning to leave. “I found Alexis.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, Russell smiling. “She’s roughed up but she convinced these guys-”

“I’m sorry but does she need medical attention, yes or no?” He shook his head. “Then go do as I ask.”

Russell took off down the hall, Colter’s wet clothes dropping to the ground. You got behind him and put your arms under him and around his chest, hoisting him up.

He screamed at the sudden pain in his side and leg but you could deal with that later. Right now, he was too fucking cold. You walked backwards out of the room, Colter whining the whole time which frankly scared the fuck out of you.

Colter was stoic. Tough as nails like Russell. Calm in moments of terror.

Scared, hurt, out of control Colter made you heart feel like it was being stabbed.

“S’okay, Colt. I got you. You’ll feel better real soon,” you said, dragged him down the hall and into an office you’d found a couch in earlier. You jerked when you noticed a shadow at the doorway.

Alexis was hiding halfway behind the doorframe, wide eyed at you. “I-I can help.”

“You know what a space heater is?” She nodded quickly. “Find them and bring them back here. Quickly. I saw a few in this hallway.”

She ducked away as you lowered Colter to the ground and plugged in the space heater you’d saw in there, turning it to the max.

You found a wooden chair and kicked at it with your boot until it broke apart. Taking two long pieces, you placed them on either side of Colter’s leg and removed your vest, jacket and shirt.

“And you said my red jacket was ugly,” you teased, laying it over his shivering form. “Too visible if I recall.”

His fingers squeezed the material so tight it started to tear, your heart breaking for him. You leaned down close, wiping the wetness out of his hair with your shirt. With a sigh you kissed his forehead, Colter mumbling something you couldn’t make out.

“I know you know you’re in shock. Everything is fine. All I want you to think about right now is a story I’m going to tell you. Okay? Just lay back and listen.” You soaked up more water with your shirt and leaned back, removing your tank top, leaving you in just a black bra. “You know Russell bought me this bra back when we went on that trip to Paris last month. I know we told you about it and you did a lot of humming like you couldn’t care less, remember?”

You shredded the tank top with your hands into strips, laying them over and under his broken leg. “I’m going to splint your leg now.”

“So there was I,” you said, pulling tight, Colter nearly doubling over as you did the few other spots quickly. “In Paris with your brother of all people and he’s bought me all these nice pajamas and lounge sets and other things you don’t need to know about when he says, let’s take a few days trip to Africa. Let’s go to the desert. Now, I don’t know about you but if you’ve never been to the desert, it’s hot as fuck.”

You made sure his leg was straight before fixing your coat on him, Colter shivering into your hand. Alexis returned with three space heaters and you quickly go them on and around him.

“When you’re in the desert, you can feel the sun prickle your skin. You know that feeling? The heat from the rays literally warming you, getting inside. It makes you so hot. It reflects off the sand, like hot sand at a beach, right back at you. It’s like you’re on a baking sheet, hot out of the oven, baked on all sides.”

Colter was still shivering but he was starting to relax, less violent shakes coming out now.

“You ever have a sunburn like that? I bet you did. Your nose and cheeks got all red, your skin so hot. I know you Shaw boys were always outside. Russell gets these freckles when he’s out in the sun. Do you get them too? A nice hot summer day, out on the water with a warm breeze.”

Russell entered the room, kneeling beside you. “Chopper will be here in thirty.”

“Okay,” you said, Colter’s head turning to the side. “Rest up for me big guy.”

You got up and pulled Russell to the back corner, nodding at Alexis sitting on the couch. “What?”

“Russell, you should take her to the nearest hospital.” He frowned, biting his tongue though as you held up your hands. “She’s not as bad as your brother but she’s dehydrated and cold.”

“No, I need to stay here in case Duvel’s guys show up. You take her-”

“I’m sorry, are you a doctor? Do you know what to do if Colter has a heart attack? A seizure? Those are very real possibilities right now, Russell. I need to warm him up and calm him down the right way and I can’t worry about her right now. I need you to take care of her. Please.”

He closed his eyes. “Fine but I’m tossing those two guys in the trunk of their car. And put your vest back on. And keep an eye on the door-“

“Shaw.” He opened his eyes, finding you glaring at him.

“Please help him the best you can,” he whispered. You hugged him, Russell squeezing you tight before he was moving and out the door with Alexis under his arm. Only the hum of the space heaters and Colter’s incoherent mumblings could be heard as you sat down beside him.

“Here you go,” you said, resting the vest over his injured leg to try and give him some warmth. You held your gun in your hand as the other rested on his forehead. Fuck, he was still too cold. Slowly, he peeled open his eyes, looking so young for the briefest of moments. “I have one last idea. But it’ll hurt.”

He nodded very slowly before closing his eyes tight. “I’ll be right back.”

You jogged out to the warehouse and hit the switch to open the bay door, quickly breaking into the luxury car out front and pulling it in. You left it on and hit the heated seats to low, rushing back to Colter where he was breathing shallowly. “Come on, bud. This should help.”

He groaned when you pulled him through the halls and out to the warehouse, cursing a long string of profanities at you that felt like the closest Colter Shaw had ever gotten to going absolute ape shit.

The ache in your chest eased when he hissed at the contact with the seats and then, you swore on your life, he cooed like a newborn baby. With the heat blasting in the car and thanks to the seats warming his bare skin, he finally passed out with a smidge more color to his skin.

“Okay,” you sighed, resting your head against the wheel. “You’re going to be okay.”

The Next Evening

“Hey,” said Russell. You didn’t acknowledge him as you watched flames flicker in the outdoor fireplace back at home. He sat down on the couch behind you, pulling you back into his lap. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” you said, leaning your head back against his shoulder. You tucked yourself into him, Russell wrapping his arms around your body. “How’s Colter? He sleeping yet?”

“Oh, he’s annoying as hell. Little shit thinks he’ll be driving out of here tomorrow morning.”

You groaned, Russell humming. “He broke his damn leg. He isn’t driving for at least a month. He is staying with us at a minimum until that cast is off.”

“I’m not the one you have to argue with.” You sighed, Russell’s long legs shifting around to lay over top of yours. “You want to talk about it?”

Your eyes welled up, Russell sensing your tension. Your eyelids squeezed tight, something heavy boiling up under your skin.

“What’s the hardest thing? Killing someone? Or almost losing Colter?” he asked quietly. You shrugged, turning your head down to your lap. “He hurt-”

“My little brother died of hypothermia.” Russell went rigid behind you, turning you in his lap so you’d face him. Your bottom lip wobbled as he pulled you in close, his hands on your back. “The car accident…it was winter. My mom died on impact but we went down a ravine. My dad went to get help for me and my brother but it was so cold and we had no heat and Charlie was so hurt…the last thing he ever said was how cold he was.”

You looked over Russell’s shoulder at the dark lake, save for a few homes with lights on across the water.

“I don’t care that I killed that son of a bitch after what he did to Colt. But I just…” You inhaled shakily, gripping Russell’s hoodie tighter. He shushed you, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

“He’s home with us. He’s safe,” said Russell softly. Long fingers stroked through your hair, tucking you into his neck. “I think Charlie would be really proud of you for protecting Colter like you did.”

“I should have protected him too,” you mumbled. Russell sighed, quietly embracing you. “You’re an older sibling. You understand.”

“Bullshit.” You leaned back fast, glaring at his stern green eyes. “Your dad was an amazing doctor and he left two injured kids. He was either a moron which I doubt or your brother had internal bleeding which made him say he was cold. If it was hypothermia you would have died too.”

“No, my dad said-”

“Was this before or after Owen’s fucked up mob family started drugging your dad so he had psychosis?” Your voice caught in your throat. Russell raised his eyebrows. “Sweetie, do you even know why Charlie died?”

“It was hypo…” You unraveled yourself from him, planting your bare feet on the warm deck. You gripped the couch cushions, closing your eyes, medical facts bouncing around your head. “Jesus, Russ. Why did I think…”

“Because your dad said it. He probably never even remembered he did. Deep down, he didn’t blame you so you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

You stood up, stepping in front of the fire with your arms crossed. You titled your head back, inhaling deeply. “He said a lot of mean things when I was a teenager, as I got older. But at the funeral…he was still himself. He didn’t…”

“No, he didn’t.” Russell stood behind you, curling his arms around your chest, trapping you against his strong warm frame. “So back to my original statement. Charlie, hell your parents too, I know they’re proud of you.”

“I killed a guy,” you scoffed.

“You saved a woman, helped catch a murderer, expose corruption throughout a small town, bring closure to a dozen families with missing loved ones-”

“Russell,” you groaned.

“And you saved my little brother’s life all while risking your own. We are damn proud of you, my queen of darkness.” Your head tilted backwards to look at him, Russell grinning back. “No objection?”

“Fine. You wore me down. I did good,” you grumbled. He chuckled against your ear, giving you a tight hug.

“The words every man loves to hear from his girl,” he laughed, giving you space to turn and hug him back. “You want to try sleeping?”

“In a minute. I want to check on him quick.”

“Don’t be long,” he whispered. He pressed his lips to your forehead, letting them linger. You gave him a hum and slipped inside, walking down the hall to the guest room. You cracked open the door slowly, Colter laying in bed with a frown.

“Need some pain killers?” you whispered as you entered, shutting the door behind you.

“No,” he grumbled, glancing up at you when you took two pills out of the bottle on the nightstand. “I overheard you and Russell.”

You sat on the edge of the bed, Colter grabbing your arm. He tried to sit up, relenting when you pushed on his shoulder. “Rest. I know that’s a foreign word to you but you have to take things slow if you want to recover correctly.”

“And you need to realize this job is dangerous and I am not your responsibility.”

“No, you’re not.” You ruffled his messy hair gently, Colter pouting. “But that’s what family does for each other.”

He wanted to retort but bit his tongue, grumbling as you fixed his blankets and made him take a painkiller.

“Why didn’t you tell me you and Russell got engaged?” You glanced down at your hand and the shiny silver band on your finger.

“When did you notice?”

“When you shot that guy. It helped to think of something else for a bit.” You nodded, playing with the ring. “When’d he ask?”

“About a week ago. We wanted to surprise you and Dory.” His hand fell down to yours, giving it a light squeeze. “Colter, I know you have your issues with your brother but we love you. I know you’re going to hate it but you need to stay here for awhile. At the very least you need to stay with Dory if not us. You can’t be alone right now.”

“I will try to not complain too much,” he said. You smiled, leaning down to hug him. “Thank you for finding me.”

“Let’s not make a habit of it is all,” you said, getting up and pushing his glass of water closer. “Need anything else?”

“I’m good.” You went to the door, Colter clearing his throat. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“That red jacket is still fucking obnoxious.” You flipped him off, Colter cracking a smile.

“Goodnight, asshole.” You turned off his light for him and found Russell curled up in the blankets in bed.

“How’s the patient?” he mumbled, big spooning you as soon as you were tucked under the covers.

“He’s going to be alright.”

“Did you ask him about being in the wedding yet?”

“One step at a time, hun.” He chuckled, burying his face against the back of your neck.

“Try to get some rest too, qark.” You closed your eyes, nodding once. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Russ.”

___________

#Tracker #Russell Shaw #Colter Shaw #Russell Shaw x reader #Russell Shaw x female!reader #Russell Shaw x you #Russell Shaw Fanfiction #Tracker Fanfiction #Tracker Fanfic #Tracker cbs #Jensen Ackles #justin hartley #He's My Man #He's My Man spinoff

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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 1 month ago

Text

Between the Ropes… a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley fanfic.

Chapter 25: Alofa..

Two Days Later. Sunday October 13th, 2024 7:21PM

The low hum of the TV droned in the background, but Jey had stopped listening hours ago.

“Tonight we bring you a confirmed update on WWE Superstar Rhea Ripley, also known as Demi Addams behind the scenes. WWE Chief Content Officer Paul Levesque held a press conference in Stamford, Connecticut earlier today. He asked the WWE Universe for prayers for Rhea and her family at this time—”

The words faded into white noise as Jey stared blankly ahead, his mind far from the news broadcast. His heart ached, a dull, constant throb that seemed to settle permanently in his chest. He had barely left Rhea’s side since she had been admitted, except for the times when the nurses asked him to step out, but even then, he never wandered far.

Rhea’s family had arrived the night before. Meeting them had been… emotional, to say the least. Demi’s dad, a quiet, towering presence, had surprised Jey with how welcoming he was. “She talks about you, you know,” her dad had said. “Every time we spoke, she’d bring you up. She really cared about you.”

Those words pierced through Jey’s chest like a knife. His throat tightened as he thought of all the moments they shared, the words they never said, and how deeply connected they were—yet how everything had spiraled out of control.

When Rhea’s father had seen her for the first time in the hospital bed, he stood frozen, clutching his chest as though the sight of his daughter hooked up to machines had taken the air right out of his lungs. It was her sister who had gently led him out of the room, tears streaming silently down her face.

Demi’s mom had been the most composed, though Jey could see the grief lining her face. She had approached him, wrapped him in a warm, unexpected hug, and whispered, “Thank you. For getting her away from him.”

Her words caught Jey off guard, and he stiffened slightly. He hadn’t saved her, at least not in the way she deserved. Yes, he had helped her leave Matt, but he hadn’t been there when it mattered most—when Rhea needed him the most. He hadn’t been able to stop her from spiraling into this dark place. The guilt had gnawed at him ever since Damian had told him what happened.

“I wish I could’ve done more,” he had whispered, his voice thick with regret.

“You’ve done more than you know,” her mom had said, her hands resting gently on his arms as she stepped back. “You gave her love. You were there for her when it counted. Now… the rest is up to her.”

They had left a few hours ago, first her father and sister, and then finally, her mother. They all went to Damian’s loft to discuss what might come next, leaving Jey completely alone with Rhea. The hospital room had never felt more suffocating, the silence hanging thick in the air except for the rhythmic beeping of the machines keeping her alive.

Jey sat at her bedside, staring at her pale face. Her hand was still warm in his, but she looked so fragile. The fiery spirit he knew, the strong, unstoppable force that was Rhea Ripley, was buried somewhere deep inside this broken body.

5 percent chance of waking up, 3 percent chance of a full recovery.

Jey swallowed hard, trying to push those numbers out of his mind. He had to hold onto hope, even if it was just a thread. But with every hour that passed, it felt like that hope was slipping further and further away.

He rubbed his thumb gently over her knuckles, his heart breaking all over again as he whispered, “Please, baby. Don’t leave me. I need you.” His voice cracked, his vision blurring as the tears welled up again. He had been holding it together for her family, for Damian, for Jon and Trinity. But here, alone, he couldn’t keep the façade any longer.

The tears flowed freely now, his chest heaving with the sobs he couldn’t hold back. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against her hand. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve seen…”

But there was no response, just the steady hum of the machines. Rhea’s chest rose and fell rhythmically, but it was the machine doing the work. She was still gone, trapped somewhere he couldn’t reach.

—

It was 2013, and Demi sat restlessly on her family’s worn-down couch, her hands gripping her knees as she tried to explain her dreams to her parents for what felt like the hundredth time. Her heart raced as her father dismissed her again, waving his hand as if the future she envisioned was nothing but a childish fantasy.

"Dad, I really believe this could be huge for me! Riot City Wrestling is local, it's a start, and it’s where so many wrestlers get their foot in the door. If I work hard enough, I could get noticed by WWE," Demi said, her voice firm but wavering with a tinge of desperation.

Her father barely looked up from his newspaper, letting out a disinterested sigh. "WWE? You really think the WWE’s gonna hire some girl from Australia? That’s a pipe dream, Demi."

Her mother, sitting quietly by the side, shook her head. “You should be focusing on real things. Wrestling… it’s just… it’s not stable. You’re going to get hurt or end up disappointed.”

Demi’s heart sank. It was like hitting a brick wall every time she tried to talk to them about it. “I’m not going to give up on this. This isn’t just some phase. It’s my life!” she retorted, her frustration bubbling over. “I’ve been training, working on my body, on my skills… this is going to be my way in!”

Her dad looked up at her for a moment, raising an eyebrow. “What do you think this is going to do for you, huh? There’s no future in that. You need to focus on getting a real job. WWE’s not going to come knocking on your door just because you want it to.”

Demi felt her face flush with anger and disappointment, her patience wearing thin. Why couldn’t they understand? This wasn’t just a hobby to her—it was everything. She stood up abruptly, frustration overtaking her. “You don’t get it, and you never will.” With that, she stormed out of the room, her father’s dismissive grunt trailing behind her as she stomped down the hallway to her room.

Slamming her door shut, Demi locked it and collapsed onto her bed, a knot of frustration tightening in her chest. She lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts racing. It didn’t matter what they thought. In a month, she would be 18, and she wouldn’t need their permission anymore. She’d sign up for Riot City Wrestling on her own.

Determined, she sat up and opened her laptop, navigating to YouTube. She needed some inspiration. As she scrolled through various wrestling clips, her mind raced with thoughts of what her future could look like. WWE may have seemed like a distant dream to her parents, but she knew better. She could feel it in her bones.

Her eyes landed on a video titled Florida Championship Wrestling: Rotundos vs. The Usos. Intrigued, she clicked on it, watching as two athletic, charismatic twin brothers took on their opponents. The crowd was electric, and the energy was palpable even through the screen. As the match went on, Demi's eyes kept wandering back to one of the Usos—Jules Uso. His movements were sharp and fluid, and there was something about his presence in the ring that caught her attention.

“He’s kinda cute,” Demi thought to herself, a smirk tugging at her lips, “but probably too old.”

Still, the match fueled her fire even more. Watching them wrestle, seeing the intensity, the passion—it only made her more certain that this was where she was supposed to be. Her stomach flipped with excitement as she pulled up the Riot City Wrestling website, her fingers hovering over the “Sign Up” button. She wasn’t quite 18 yet, but it didn’t matter. She was going to do it. This was going to be her shot.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed beside her. It was a text from her friend: Wanna go see The Great Gatsby tonight?

Demi sighed, taking a moment to glance at herself in the mirror. She couldn’t spend the entire night obsessing over wrestling, and a night out sounded like a much-needed distraction. She quickly typed back, Yeah, I’m in, and shut the laptop, the determination to start her wrestling journey solidifying even further in her mind. She was going to prove everyone wrong.

As she got ready to meet her friend, one thought kept playing over and over in her mind: one day, they would all see. One day, she’d be in that ring, just like the Usos, just like the wrestlers she’d been watching for years. And she wasn’t going to let anyone stand in her way.

It was 2017, and the weight of the moment pressed on Demi’s chest as she stood in the middle of the bustling airport, her family surrounding her. The airport's noise seemed to fade as her mother’s arms tightened around her in a long, emotional embrace. This was it. All the years of blood, sweat, and tears in Riot City Wrestling had led to this moment—Demi was officially on her way to sign with WWE. The dream she had fought so hard for, despite all the doubt and dismissive words from her family years ago, was about to become a reality.

“Mom, I have to go before the plane leaves without me,” Demi said, her voice slightly muffled as her mother refused to let her go.

Her mother finally pulled back, tears streaming down her face, a bittersweet smile playing at her lips. "I know, I know. I just can’t believe my baby is going to WWE," her mother said softly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from Demi’s face. “You’ve worked so hard for this. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I will, Mom,” Demi reassured her, her throat tightening with emotion. “I’ll be okay, I promise.”

Her father, who had been standing quietly by, stepped forward and enveloped her in a tight hug. There was a warmth in his embrace, something she hadn’t felt from him in years, especially during those times when he doubted her path. But now, as he hugged her, she could feel his pride radiating through.

“I’m proud of you, kiddo,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You never gave up, and look where it got you. I love you.”

That was it. That was the moment that nearly broke her composure. Demi blinked hard, trying to fight back the tears threatening to spill over. She wasn’t usually one to cry—she prided herself on her strength—but in this moment, with her family finally supporting her after all the years of struggle, it was hard to hold it together.

“I love you too, Dad,” she whispered back, her voice cracking ever so slightly.

The final boarding call echoed through the airport terminal, breaking the emotional bubble they had been in. Demi’s heart raced as she turned and waved to her parents and her sister, who stood a little off to the side with her arms crossed, trying not to cry but clearly failing. Her sister gave a small wave back, her lips pressed together in an emotional smile.

As Demi started to walk toward the gate, the reality of the moment hit her. She was leaving home. She was stepping into the unknown, but for the first time, the fear of the unknown was overshadowed by the excitement of her dream coming true.

With her carry-on slung over her shoulder, she turned back one last time to see her family still standing there, waving. She smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude and love for them. It wasn’t easy getting to this point, but every sacrifice, every tear, every ounce of frustration had been worth it.

As she handed her ticket to the gate attendant and started walking down the jet bridge, a wave of emotions hit her. She was leaving behind her life in Australia to chase the biggest dream of her life. WWE was no longer just a dream—it was her reality now.

As she found her seat and settled in, Demi took a deep breath. This was it. She was on her way to making her dream come true, and nothing was going to stop her now.

The plane engines roared to life, and as it began to taxi down the runway, Demi couldn’t help but smile to herself. She was finally doing it. She was finally going to be a WWE superstar.

Demi stood in front of the mirror in the locker room, hands slightly trembling as she split her hair down the middle, keeping it simple for her first interview at the WWE Performance Center. This was a huge moment. She had been working her entire career for this opportunity, and now, here she was, about to make her first official introduction to the WWE Universe.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that danced in her chest. It wasn’t just about the interview; it was about establishing herself, setting the tone for her career in WWE. With one final glance in the mirror, she smoothed down her top and left the locker room, her heart racing as she approached the interview set where the crew was already setting up.

Just as she arrived, Paul Levesque—Triple H himself—approached her. The man she had watched growing up, the one who now held the power to shape her future in the company, extended his hand with a smile.

“Demi,” he greeted, shaking her hand firmly. “I’m counting on you to give a great interview. Set yourself apart from everyone else. We saw what you could do in Riot City Wrestling, and we believe in your potential. Just show the world who you are.”

Paul, now the Executive Vice-President of Talent, Live Events, and Creative, had been instrumental in bringing her into WWE, and hearing him speak so highly of her gave Demi a shot of confidence. She nodded, giving him a determined smile, but then Paul raised an eyebrow with a smirk.

“How do we spell your last name again?” he asked.

“B-E-N-N—” she started, but Paul shook his head, chuckling.

“No, your stage name. What is it?”

Demi froze, her smile faltering for a second. Her stage name? She hadn’t thought about that. She had been so focused on the opportunity itself that she hadn’t even considered what she would call herself in the ring.

Paul raised an eyebrow again, clearly amused by her panic. “You didn’t think of one, did you?”

“Not yet,” Demi admitted, her cheeks flushing.

Paul laughed, but not unkindly, and handed her a list of suggestions. “Take a look at these. See if anything jumps out at you. I’ve got to check on something, but you’ve got ten minutes to figure it out, okay?”

Demi took the list and nodded as Paul walked off to deal with one of his assistants. She scanned the paper, but nothing felt right. She sighed and pulled out her phone, typing in “uncommon first names” into a search engine.

“Gretta, Naomi, Mercedes…” She rolled her eyes. None of these names spoke to her, none of them felt like her. This was her persona, her identity in the WWE—it had to be something that resonated deeply.

Her scrolling paused when one name caught her eye: Rhea. She clicked on it, reading the description: The name Rhea is of Greek origin, meaning "a flowing stream."

There was something powerful yet elegant about it. It flowed, just like the meaning of the name. She liked it.

Excited, she kept scrolling for a last name and stumbled across “Ripley.” It meant "a strip of clearing in the woods," but the sound of it felt strong, bold.

“Rhea Ripley,” she whispered to herself, saying the full name aloud. It felt right. It had the tone of someone who could be fierce and stand out in the WWE, someone who was both unstoppable and unique.

Just then, Paul returned. “Got something?” he asked, glancing at her with a smile.

“Rhea Ripley,” she said confidently.

Paul nodded, considering it. “I like it. Strong, memorable. It suits you. You never thought about pushing your hair to one side?" Demi nodded a 'No' and Paul looked around for a comb and he grabbed it. He pulled the hair to the left side and saw Demi had a tight braid only on her right side. "Keeps the bulk of my hair away. Ironically my hair is very thick, especially on my right." Demi said and Paul nodded as fixed a bit. "I think you're ready now.." He said.

Demi—now Rhea—felt a rush of relief and excitement as the crew motioned for her to take a seat. The camera was positioned in front of her, and the lights above glowed, casting a spotlight on her as she took her seat on the black stool.

“Ready?” the cameraman asked.

Rhea nodded, taking a deep breath as the red light on the camera flicked on. The room felt still for a moment, but she was ready. She had chosen her name, and now it was time to introduce herself to the world.

“My name’s Rhea Ripley, and I’m from Adelaide, South Australia…”

As the words left her mouth, Rhea felt a shift. This was her new beginning. She wasn’t just Demi Bennet from Riot City anymore—she was Rhea Ripley, and her journey in WWE had officially begun.

Jey Uso shifted in his chair, sitting beside his twin brother, Jon—better known as Jimmy Uso—as they waited for Triple H to finish addressing the new NXT recruits. They were no strangers to the Performance Center, having made countless visits since their debut in WWE in 2010. But today was different. Triple H had asked them to give a motivational talk to the new class of talent, many of whom were struggling to find their footing in the early stages of their wrestling careers.

Jey felt a flutter of nerves in his stomach. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to public speaking—he and Jimmy had cut hundreds of promos over the years—but speaking from a place of vulnerability, of trial and error, that was different. He glanced at his brother, who sat confidently, arms crossed, as if this were just another day at work. Jey knew Jimmy would kick off the talk, and he was grateful for that. Once Jimmy started speaking, Jey could feed off his energy.

Finally, they heard their cue. Jimmy stood first, and Jey followed, feeling the eyes of the NXT talent on them.

"Alright, y’all," Jimmy began, his voice booming through the room. "We’ve been in this business a long time now, but trust us, it wasn’t always easy. Me and my brother, we’ve been knocked down more times than we can count. But we kept getting back up. Every. Single. Time."

Jey felt himself relax as he heard his brother’s words. Jimmy had always been good at setting the tone. His passion came through, and the developmental talent was hooked. As Jimmy spoke about how they had broken into the business, Jey scanned the crowd.

That’s when he saw her—a blonde woman sitting near the back, listening intently but with a hint of uncertainty in her expression. Something about her stood out. Maybe it was the way she was trying to blend in, despite her striking appearance. Or maybe it was just the vibe she gave off, like she was still figuring out who she was supposed to be in the world of WWE.

Without really thinking, Jey found himself pointing in her direction.

“Rhea Ripley, right?” he asked, his voice drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

The blonde—Rhea—nodded, looking slightly startled but polite. Her eyes widened as she realized she’d been singled out.

Jey smiled, feeling the need to clarify. “I can tell… no shame to you… but when I hear the name Rhea Ripley, I think of something dark, something fierce. But I can see that’s not who you are—at least not right now. The blonde hair, the energy, it’s not matching the name, you feel me?”

Rhea seemed to tense up, unsure how to respond, but she nodded again, a bit more slowly this time.

Jey continued, turning back to the whole group. “And that brings me to something important for all of you—don’t be afraid to change anything about yourself to make your character work. It’s not about sticking to one thing forever. If something doesn’t feel right, it’s okay to switch it up. Jimmy and I went through all kinds of looks, all kinds of gimmicks, until we found what worked for us. And that’s how it’s gonna be for you guys, too.”

Jimmy picked up from there, talking about how they’d gone from face-painted Samoan warriors to the street-wise, gritty Usos they had become. Jey found himself feeling more comfortable as he saw the recruits, including Rhea, listening closely. He was speaking from experience—trial and error had been their constant companion in the business.

“It’s not about how many times you get knocked down,” Jey said, his voice rising as he came to the close of the speech. “It’s about how quickly you get back up. Keep pushing, keep grinding, and one day, you’re gonna find what works. Just trust the process.”

As he wrapped up, the room erupted in applause. Jey glanced at Jimmy, who gave him an approving nod. It had gone better than he expected, and he felt proud of the message they had shared.

In the crowd, Rhea smiled softly at him, clapping along with the rest of the recruits. Jey felt a small sense of satisfaction seeing her reaction, knowing he might’ve given her something to think about.

Her friend, Steffanie—better known as Tegan Nox—leaned over and whispered something to Rhea, causing her to roll her eyes with a playful smirk. Jey couldn’t hear what was said, but he saw Rhea’s lips form the words, “Not in a million years.”

He chuckled to himself as he and Jimmy walked off stage. He didn’t know much about Rhea Ripley yet, but something told him that, despite the nerves she showed today, she was going to find her own way—just like they had.

The familiar intro of The Smashing Pumpkins' 1979 echoed softly through the hotel room as Steffanie stood behind Rhea, scissors in hand, carefully trimming away the long blonde locks that had been a part of Rhea’s identity for so long. Each snip felt like shedding an old skin, peeling away layers of uncertainty and stepping into something new.

“I still can’t believe you played into that Uso speech,” Steffanie muttered, exasperated but amused. “Of all the things to take to heart.”

“Just make sure it’s even, Tegan,” Rhea teased, using her friend’s ring name with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steffanie shot back, focusing on the task at hand. The floor around them was already littered with blonde strands, and with each pass of the scissors, Rhea could feel herself becoming lighter—both physically and emotionally. It was as if she was cutting away all the doubts that had plagued her since her arrival at the Performance Center.

After a few more snips, Steffanie stood Rhea up, swiveling her to face the mirror. The reflection staring back at Rhea was almost unrecognizable. Her long blonde hair was gone, replaced by a sleek, shoulder-length cut that framed her face in a way that made her look sharper, more defined. She ran her fingers through the short strands, feeling the newfound confidence that came with the change.

“It’s… it’s amazing,” Rhea whispered, almost in disbelief.

Steffanie stood back, arms crossed, assessing her work. “It’s good, but I feel like we’re missing something… Hmm.”

She looked at the scattered tools on the hotel bathroom counter, her eyes landing on the brown root touch-up spray. Without hesitation, she grabbed the can and began spraying streaks of brown through Rhea’s blonde hair. The combination of blonde and brown gave Rhea an edgy, gritty look that felt worlds apart from the girl she had been before stepping into WWE.

As the color dried, Steffanie reached for a generous glob of hair gel and slicked back Rhea’s hair, running her hands through the strands and smoothing it into place with precision. The final look was fierce, rebellious—a complete contrast to the sweet, innocent girl who had walked into the Performance Center months ago.

Rhea stared at herself in the mirror, her jaw dropping slightly. This was her. This was Rhea Ripley.

“I FUCKING LOVE IT!” Rhea exclaimed, her voice bursting with excitement. She spun around, wrapping Steffanie in a tight hug, unable to contain the adrenaline that rushed through her.

Steffanie laughed, pulling back to admire the new look once more. “I think Rhea Ripley has officially been born!”

Rhea looked at herself again, her heart pounding in her chest. It wasn’t just about the haircut. It wasn’t just about the new look. This was about transformation. About shedding the expectations everyone else had for her and finally stepping into the identity that she wanted to create.

She thought back to that moment during the Uso’s speech when Jey had pointed her out, when he had told her not to be afraid to change anything about herself to make her character work. At the time, it had stung a little. She’d felt like she was being called out. But now… now she understood. This was her evolution. This was her moment.

“I’m ready,” Rhea said, her voice steady and sure. “I’m so damn ready.”

Steffanie grinned. “I hope the world is ready for you, because Rhea Ripley is about to tear it apart.”

As they both stood in front of the mirror, Rhea felt an undeniable shift in her confidence. The timid girl from Adelaide who had once questioned if she belonged here was gone. In her place was a woman who knew exactly who she was, and more importantly, who she was going to be.

With the reflection of her new self staring back at her, Rhea took a deep breath and smiled. This was only the beginning.

Luis Martinez, better known now as Damian Priest, leaned against the wall near the entrance, arms folded as he watched Rhea Ripley completely annihilate her opponent in the ring. She was a force to be reckoned with, and every time she delivered her devastating finishing move, the crowd erupted. It was undeniable. She had something special—raw power, unshakeable confidence, and a presence that commanded attention. Damian had noticed her ever since she first started making waves in NXT, but the timing never seemed right to strike up a conversation. Until now.

Rhea walked up the ramp, victorious, her music blaring through the arena as the adrenaline of her match pumped through her veins. When she stepped backstage into Gorilla, she was greeted with a flurry of high-fives, pats on the back, and nods of approval from the crew and other wrestlers. Her grin was wide, and her eyes sparkled with the thrill of success.

And then, she saw him.

“Luis, right?” she asked, her Australian accent making his real name sound almost musical.

“Damian, actually,” he corrected her with a friendly grin. “Now that we all have to go by our stage names and all.”

“Right, sorry! What’s up?” Rhea asked, brushing some of the sweat-drenched hair away from her face as she gave him her full attention.

For a moment, Damian felt slightly out of his element. Here he was, standing in front of one of the most intimidating women in NXT, and yet she had this infectious energy about her that made it hard to keep his cool. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his nerves in check.

“So, I’ve been offered a big opportunity. WWE wants me to work with Bad Bunny, and it’s gonna be huge. But, after that partnership wraps up, I was thinking about something… I wanted to know if you’d ever be interested in, I don’t know, maybe forming a tag team with me down the line?” Damian paused, feeling a little ridiculous for how clumsy his words were coming out. “I don’t know what we’d call it yet or anything like that, but I think we’d kill it together.”

Rhea raised an eyebrow, amused by his nervousness. She could see he was trying to keep it together, and it was kind of endearing in a way. She gave him a playful smirk.

“Priest, if you’re just looking for a friend, then yeah, I’m down,” she said, still smiling. “By the way, why Priest for the last name? What’s the story behind that?”

Damian felt a bit more at ease with her casual, laid-back response. They began walking together toward the back, the hustle and bustle of backstage life still moving around them.

“Judas Priest,” Damian answered with a proud grin.

Rhea’s eyes lit up. “I love Judas Priest!” she exclaimed, her energy shooting up a notch. It was like she had just discovered a kindred spirit.

Damian's grin grew wider. “Okay, now you’re speaking my language! What about Suicide Silence? You into them?”

Rhea’s expression shifted into something deeper, more meaningful. “I actually do the stomp at the beginning of my matches to honor Mitch Lucker. It’s my way of paying tribute to him,” she explained.

Damian’s eyes widened in appreciation. “No way! That’s badass. That’s respect.”

Rhea smiled softly, touched that he understood the significance behind her stomp. It wasn’t just a move—it was a statement.

Without missing a beat, Damian playfully shouted, “Did we just become best friends?!”

Rhea laughed, the sound genuine and light despite the intensity of her persona. “Yup!”

It was a moment that solidified something more than just a professional connection. In that brief exchange, Damian and Rhea had bonded over their shared love for heavy metal, their respect for one another as performers, and their mutual understanding of what it meant to honor something bigger than themselves. This wasn’t just the start of a partnership or a tag team. This was the beginning of a friendship that would last well beyond the confines of the ring.

As they walked through the back, laughing and talking about their favorite bands, it became clear to both of them that this was the start of something special—a bond built on mutual respect, shared interests, and a whole lot of chaos to come.

Present

Jey sat there for what felt like hours, his hand still clutching hers, his mind replaying every memory they had shared. The laughter, the arguments, the quiet moments between them that had felt like their own little universe. And now, it felt like that universe was just gone.

The thought of losing her completely—of never hearing her voice again, never seeing her smile, never holding her in his arms—was unbearable. His heart felt like it was being crushed under the weight of it all. He had lost her once, to the chaos of their lives, but this… this was so much worse.

The door to the room creaked slightly as it opened, but Jey didn’t move. He didn’t even look up when a nurse came in to check on Rhea’s vitals. She gave him a soft, understanding smile, knowing how hard this was for him. She didn’t say anything, just adjusted Rhea’s blankets and made sure everything was in place before quietly slipping back out.

Jey was alone again. Alone with his thoughts, his regrets, and the woman he loved lying motionless beside him.

He didn’t know how much more of this he could take, but he knew one thing for certain—he wasn’t leaving her. Not now, not ever.

As Jey sat there, his fingers gently intertwined with Rhea’s, the quiet of the hospital room pressed down on him like a weight he could barely carry. His eyes traced over her pale face, searching for something, anything, that might wake her up. But she stayed still, the machines doing all the work, the rhythm of her breathing not her own. He held her hand tighter, as if somehow that would make a difference, as if holding on a little harder might bring her back.

And then, in the oppressive silence, his mind began to wander. Had there been signs?

He tried to think, tried to piece together moments, but at first, nothing seemed obvious. Rhea was tough, resilient—she was the strongest person he knew, both in and out of the ring. But as the minutes passed, memories started surfacing, slowly, like fragments of glass that had been buried deep under the surface, now glinting painfully in the light of his guilt.

There was that time when he found her watching The Great Gatsby. She always seemed to put it on whenever something was bothering her. He remembered coming into the guest bedroom after a finding her there, her eyes glued to the screen, replaying the movie. He never really thought much about it back then—everyone had their go-to escape when things got hard. Then when Jimmy told him not use the them for her birthday and Jimmy told him the real reason. He knew why she loved it so much. He assumed if he kept showering her with love then maybe she would stop watching the movie.

His thoughts shifted, and he was suddenly back in that restaurant bathroom, just a little shy under two weeks ago. He had been so angry, but also scared out of his mind. He had followed her into the bathroom, having her hand over the pills.

Rhea had just looked at him, eyes wide and full of something he didn’t understand back then. She didn’t argue or push back. She had handed over the pills without a word, her lips trembling as she avoided his gaze.

He remembered the relief he felt then. He had thought it was over, that just by taking the pills from her, everything would be fine. She didn’t put up a fight, and in his mind, that meant she was done with them. That she was going to be okay. He had convinced himself it was just a temporary thing, something small—she was just tired, and everyone in their world took something to manage the pain at some point.

But now, sitting beside her hospital bed, that memory twisted his gut. He had been wrong. So wrong. He should have done more. Should have asked her why. Should have made sure she wasn’t still hurting after that night. But instead, he had let it go, believing that the issue ended when she handed over the pills. He ran his free hand over his face, tears blurring his vision as regret clawed at him.

Why didn’t I push harder? Why didn’t I make sure she was okay?

Jey’s chest tightened, and he could barely breathe as more moments started coming back, each one sharper than the last. Her mood swings, the way she would sometimes shut down. He had thought she was just exhausted, that the weight of their world—the constant pressure, the endless travel, the personal drama—was just catching up with her like it did with everyone.

Tears finally fell, sliding down his face as he leaned closer to Rhea. “I should’ve done more,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I should’ve seen it.”

He pressed her hand to his lips, the roughness of her skin against his own making everything feel painfully real. “I thought… I thought I could fix it by taking the pills,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “I thought… if I just took them away, it would be over.”

But it wasn’t. The pills were only part of it. The real pain, the real darkness, had been lurking beneath the surface all along, and he had been too caught up in his own world, his own problems, to see how deep it ran for her.

He had been so wrapped up in the fallout with his own life—the issues with Takecia, being banished from the public eye, the pressure of everything—that he hadn’t been there for her like he should have been. He had missed the signs. And now, she was lying there, still and fragile, and he was left wondering if she would ever wake up.

The weight of it all crashed down on him, and Jey’s body shook with silent sobs. The guilt was unbearable, like a vice tightening around his heart. If she didn’t make it… if she didn’t wake up, he wasn’t sure how he’d live with himself.

“I’m so sorry, Rhea,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

The room felt colder now, as if the air itself was pressing in on him, suffocating him with regret. And as Jey sat there, holding her hand, the reality of what they were facing sunk deeper into his bones. If she didn’t wake up… if this was really it… he would never be able to forgive himself.

He couldn’t take it anymore. The weight of everyone’s words was suffocating him, the constant updates, the clinical terms—he needed to escape, if only for a moment. He just grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels, anything to drown out the reality he was living in.

The he stopped dead in his tracks..

His breath hitched when he saw it—The Great Gatsby. The movie that seemed to haunt him lately, tied to Rhea’s quiet moments of sadness or anger. It was as though the universe was playing a cruel joke. But for some reason, Jey couldn’t look away. His eyes stayed glued to the screen as Tobey Maguire’s voice floated through the room.

“If only it’d been enough for Gatsby just to hold Daisy. But he had a grand vision for his life and Daisy’s part in it…”

The words hit him like a punch in the gut. They echoed in his mind, swirling with everything else that had been said and unsaid between him and Rhea. He stared at the TV, but the sound of the machines around Rhea began to drown out the movie. For a second, it felt like she was speaking to him, not Nick Carraway. The hums, the beeps—they were calling to him. Jey turned off the TV as everything was just taunting him.

Jey continued to lay in the hospital room, he had his head resting gently on Rhea's legs, his hand intertwined with hers. It was now the only time he could truly find any semblance of peace—the only way he could drift off to sleep these past 48 hours. But even then, sleep wasn’t restful for him. It was more like a fleeting escape, a brief respite from the weight of the world crashing down on his shoulders. He took a few deep breaths, the rhythmic hum of Rhea’s ventilator and the steady beeping of the vital signs monitor becoming a distant lullaby. Slowly, his body gave in, and he slipped into a deep, dream-filled sleep.

In his dream, Jey found himself standing in a room—white, with walls that seemed to stretch endlessly. There was nothing except a bench and a door. He approached the door instinctively, trying to open it, but the handle wouldn’t budge. Confused, Jey looked down at himself, realizing he was dressed differently. Gone were his usual tattoos and jewelry. Instead, he wore a simple white t-shirt, jeans, and no shoes. The absence of his ink felt disorienting, like a part of his identity had been stripped away.

He walked back to the bench, sitting down with a sigh, his mind racing. Where am I?

As if in response, the door creaked open, and an intense, blinding white light flooded the room. Jey shielded his eyes with his hand, squinting to make out who or what was coming through. The figure stepped into the room and gently closed the door behind them, muting the harsh light.

"Sorry about that," a soft voice said.

Jey blinked and lowered his hand, his heart pounding as he took in the woman standing before him. She looked familiar, though he couldn’t quite place why at first.

"Hi," she smiled, her eyes twinkling with a warmth that felt comforting, yet eerie at the same time.

"Hello," Jey replied, his voice uncertain. "Where… where am I?"

She looked around, almost amused, before turning back to him. "You’re in a waiting room," she said simply.

"A waiting room?" Jey frowned, still confused. "What kind of waiting room?"

The woman chuckled lightly, her smile resembling something that tugged at Jey’s heartstrings. "It’s a one-of-a-kind waiting room," she replied, leaving the mystery in her words hanging between them.

Jey studied her more closely, his heart racing as something clicked. Her eyes—they were the same shade as his. Her smile—he’d seen that smile before, but on someone else. His son, Jeyce.

His throat tightened as he dared to ask the question gnawing at him. "Who… who are you?"

The woman’s smile softened, almost sad. "I was born, and I died, on the same day," she began gently. "To my parents, Demi Bennett and Joshua Samuel Fatu."

Jey’s heart stopped at the mention of Rhea’s name—and his full name. He felt the air leave his lungs as realization crashed into him.

"I’m Julie Alofa Fatu," she said, her voice tender. "Hi, Dad."

Jey’s eyes filled with tears as the emotions hit him like a tidal wave. His knees nearly buckled under the weight of it all, but before he could collapse, he pulled his daughter—his miscarried daughter—into his arms. He hugged her tightly, holding onto the child he never got to meet, the child whose life had ended before it ever began.

"I’m so sorry," Jey whispered into her hair, his voice breaking. "I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you."

Julie held him gently, her small hands comforting on his back. "It’s okay, Dad. My time wasn’t meant to be fulfilled. But I’m here now."

Jey pulled back, tears streaming down his face as he shook his head. "I have so many regrets, baby girl. I wish I could have been there for you… I wish I could’ve watched you grow up, been your dad."

Julie took his hands into hers, squeezing them softly. "You don’t have to hold onto those regrets," she said, her voice calm but firm. "Mom is supposed to be with you. And you have my brothers, Jeyce and Jaciyah."

At the mention of his sons, Jey’s heart ached even more. "I don’t want to lose them, Julie. I don’t want to lose them because of this… because of everything."

Julie smiled, her eyes filled with understanding. "It’ll take time, but the path will be complete. You and Mom… you’re supposed to be together."

Jey wanted to believe her, but the pain, the guilt—it was all so overwhelming. "I wish I could’ve experienced everything with you," he said, his voice trembling with sorrow.

Julie looked at him thoughtfully, then smiled again. "Do you know what my middle name means in Samoan?"

Jey wiped his eyes and nodded. "Alofa… it means love."

Julie nodded. "Exactly. And as long as you have love for Mom, I’ll always be here with you."

A soft beep echoed through the room, and Julie’s eyes sparkled with a knowing look. "I have to go see Mom now."

Jey’s heart sank at her words. "Is… is Rhea gone?" he asked, his voice laced with fear.

Julie only smiled at him, standing from the bench. She looked back over her shoulder as she reached the door. "Take care, Dad. I love you."

Before Jey could say anything more, he felt a sudden pull, like a force yanking him backward. Julie and the white room disappeared in an instant, and Jey’s eyes shot open. He was back in the hospital, still holding Rhea’s hand, still in that sterile room. His body was drenched in sweat, and his heart was pounding as he realized it was just a dream—or maybe something more.

But as the tears welled up in his eyes, he couldn’t shake the name from his lips. "Julie…" he whispered, letting the tears fall freely, holding Rhea’s hand even tighter.

Rhea stood in the middle of a bright white room, her breath catching in her throat. She looked down at her body; her arms were bare, rid of the tattoos that had told her story. Her piercings were gone, and her long blonde hair fell around her shoulders in its natural state. She wore a simple white t-shirt and jeans, her feet bare against the cool, smooth surface of the floor.

The room was eerily empty, containing only a small wooden bench and a door that seemed to loom larger than life. Rhea walked over and sat on the bench, confusion swirling in her mind. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant was about to happen.

“Where am I?” she whispered, her voice echoing in the silence.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a woman dressed entirely in white entered the room. She moved with a serene grace, her presence instantly commanding Rhea’s attention. As she took a seat next to Rhea, she smiled warmly and said, “Hello, Demi.”

Rhea’s heart raced at the use of her real name, a name she hadn’t heard in years. “Hello,” she replied, her voice trembling with uncertainty. “Where am I?”

The woman turned to her, her gaze soft and inviting. “I’d like to think of it as a waiting room,” she said gently. Rhea’s brow furrowed as she tried to comprehend what that meant. “What’s your name?” she asked, the words tumbling out before she could stop herself.

The woman smiled, a twinkle of recognition in her eyes. “I’m Julie Alofa Fatu,” she said, her voice like a soothing melody. “I was born and I died on the same day, to my parents, Demi Bennet and Joshua Samuel Fatu.”

Rhea’s breath caught in her throat, her heart dropping as the weight of those words crashed down on her. Julie—her Julie. The daughter she had lost to the cruel twist of fate. Rhea felt tears welling up, the floodgates of grief opening wide.

Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around Julie, holding her tightly as sobs wracked her body. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” she choked out, her heart aching with a mix of regret and longing. Julie hugged her back, her embrace warm and comforting. “It’s okay, Mom,” she said softly. “I’m okay. I’m grown up now.”

Rhea pulled back, her hands trembling as she touched Julie’s hair, still incredulous at the reality of this moment. “You have his eyes and my hair…” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she gazed into her daughter’s beautiful chocolate eyes.

Julie smiled and took Rhea’s hands in her own, the touch sending a wave of warmth through Rhea’s body. “I don’t have a lot of time,” Julie said, her expression turning serious. “I had to get permission from the big man to be here.”

Rhea felt a rush of panic at the thought of losing her daughter again. “What do you mean? What’s happening?” she asked, fear creeping into her voice.

Julie took a deep breath, her gaze steady as she continued. “I’m going to have a brother,” she said, a hint of excitement shining in her eyes. “The only thing I want is for you and Dad to love him unconditionally.”

Rhea’s heart dropped at the realization. The thought of becoming pregnant again, of bringing another child into the world, filled her with fear. “What if… what if I can’t?” she stammered, the weight of her past pressing down on her.

“Mom,” Julie said gently, squeezing Rhea’s hands. “No matter what happens, you’re meant to be with Dad. It’s not your time yet.”

Rhea’s heart ached at the mention of Jey. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you,” she whispered, her voice breaking as the weight of her sorrow settled over her. "I tried to put my arms over my stomach-"

"Mom.." Julie’s expression softened, her eyes shimmering with understanding. “I’ll welcome Dad and you and my siblings whenever the time comes. My time was never meant to be complete.”

Rhea couldn’t help but feel the warmth of Julie’s love wrapping around her, even amidst the heartache. She pulled her daughter into another tight embrace, feeling the soft, familiar weight of her. “I don’t want to go,” Rhea said, desperation lacing her voice.

Julie pulled back slightly, her gaze serious yet gentle. “I have to go, Mom,” she said, her voice filled with sadness. She leaned in and kissed Rhea’s forehead, the touch sparking a warm light in Rhea’s chest.

Suddenly, Rhea felt a force in her chest, a sensation of being pulled apart as the room around her began to fade. “Julie!” she cried out, reaching for her daughter as her spirit started to slip away.

#rhea ripley #wwe #wwe smackdown #wwe raw #jey uso #fanfiction #fanfic #yeet #the judgement day #rhea and jey

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sweetlittlegingy · 2 years ago

Text

Mr. Lieutenant Sir

☑︎ Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Sweet Nothings Masterlist

☑︎ Pairing: Jake Seresin x Y/n Seresin (Mitchell)

☑︎ Word Count: 5.9 K

☑︎ Warnings: Infertility, IVF, Adoption, Dad!Jake, Teacher/Mom!Reader, Kindergarteners, bad foster parents, child neglect, flirty Javy, protective Jake

☑︎ A/n: Never believe that I'm actually on hiatus, I finished this two days ago. Suprise

☑︎ Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

A giggle leaves your lips as a pair of arms wrap around your waist and pull you away from the pile of dishes soaking in the water. The record player quietly plays in the background, and the lack of noise from the living room is a clear indication that Javy either went home without saying goodbye or he’s fallen asleep on the couch. The latter most likely, given how he never leaves without a hug and goodbye.

“Javy fall asleep?”

You get a hum in response, though it’s muffled against your neck as Jake gently kisses along the curve of it. With a shrug of your shoulder, Jake lifts his face and allows you to turn around and face him. You lean against the countertop, while your hands wrap around Jake’s neck and run through the hair at the base.

“Remember when you told me that for share time, Gray couldn’t stop talking about a model airplane he had?”

Your head gently nods as you enjoy the close moment with your husband. Mrs. Adam had gone out and bought little model planes for both twins when she saw the shirts that Jake had picked out. It was the sweetest thing, and you were so thankful that she not only cared but supported you and Jake every time you showed up with something for the twins.

“Well, I talked to your dad last week and asked about the possibility of the class coming to the base for a field trip.” Your hands stop and a smile graces your face, eyebrow popping up in the way of saying ‘oh really.’ “I didn’t want to tell you until I got a yes, but Mav told me tonight that Cyclone gave him the go-ahead.”

“Really?!” Your smile slowly grows, and your mind is already spinning up a plan of how to make everything happen. “The kids would love that, all of them. Of course, I’ll need to send out permission slips and a Friday would probably work be–”

“Sweet Girl, slow down.” The words cut off your ramble. While Jake rubs at your arms in a comforting fashion. “We have time baby; we will work it all out.”

You nod, but your smile remains the same. Since you started teaching you had always thought that it would be fun to take the kids on a field trip to Top Gun. Though the opportunity had never arisen, especially during the first couple of years. You were a new teacher and still wary of your abilities in handling 20 5-year-olds off school grounds. Now, you were more than confident that you could handle it, especially with the parents you knew would be volunteering. Your excitement may have also stemmed from how much you knew that the twins would enjoy themselves.

...

“Eyes on me and clap three times, my little darlings!” Your voice echoes over the busy classroom, though at the request 20 little faces turn to you and clap or snap like you requested. “Very good! Now before you go home today, please give me your permission slips for our field trip this Friday. If you do not have them, come and talk to me.”

Your eyes scan through the classroom, each of your kids happily smiling while they take their permission slips from their go-home folder. Though your eyes eventually settle on Grayson and Madelaine. The pair of them sit quietly together, neither of them moving to take out a permission slip.

They had been oddly quiet all day, Gray was normally quiet though he always talked with you and Laine. While Laine was your little chatterbox in class who talked to everyone, though today neither of them said more than they were requested to. It had been eating away at you since you noticed it this morning and you had hoped that by this afternoon it would be better. Though as you look at them now, it only appears to have gotten worse.

The ringing of the bell pulls your attention back and has you focusing on the whole class again. A small line forms in front of you and your teaching aid Melissa, each of the kids waiting to hand you their signed slip. You give each of them a smile as they walk past and hand you their slip while following Melissa out to the pickup area. You count as they go past and as the last child in line goes out the door, your head pops up after only counting 18 heads.

Your eyes immediately find the twins, who are slowly putting their books away and looking as if going home was the last thing that they wanted to do.

You glance out to the hallway, checking to see if Melissa was going to come to tell you that Janice had actually shown up. Though the hallway is empty, clearly meaning she hadn’t arrived yet. Not worrying about the incompetent woman, you head over to the twins hoping to find out what has been eating away at them all day.

“Hello, my little munchkins.” Your voice gets their attention and Gray gives you a small smile, while Laine looks at you in defeat. You crouch down beside the desks, leaning over to fix the new glasses on Gray’s nose. “What’s going on? Why are my two favorite people so blue?”

You wait for the sassy comeback, though you don’t get one and a frown settles on your face. You rise from them and head back over to your desk, while they both silently watch you.

“I was saving this for a special day, and I think that today is that day.”

You rummage around the desk drawer until you find it. Usually, you would have Mrs. Adams give the children things that you had found for them, but last month you had found an antique children’s book that was in near-perfect condition and knew you had to buy it. The pair excelled in reading, and you knew that they would love to have a book of their own, instead of checking them out from the library.

You turn back around with the leather-bound book, only to find both Gray and Laine leaning over their desk trying to get a closer look. You give them both a smile, before placing the book down on Gray’s desk.

“I found this and knew how much you both enjoyed reading. I thought that it might be special for you, to have your own book that can take you on adventures and to different worlds anytime you want.”

The both of them smile happily, though as Madelaine opens it a small frown settles on her face. She looked toward Grayson who had yet to touch the book and now sported a small glare. Her eyes look towards you and your heartaches at the pain swimming in the baby blue.

“Can you keep it safe for us Ms. Cece?”

Your brow furrows in question, though before you can comment Gray speaks up.

“I got in trouble after my glasses got broken, I didn’t mean to run into things, but it just happened.” His voice is small, and you can barely hear him over the pounding in your head. You were positive that they were talking about Janice and her husband, but your mind was still reeling over the revelation.

“That’s why we don’t get to go see Mr. Jake and his plane.” Laine huffs as she says it and the way she crosses her arms would have made you giggle in any different situation. “They took everything as punishment, even our little model planes.”

It was like everything around you had turned off, and all you could think or see was the twins crying. The pair of them getting in trouble for things that aren’t their fault and how Janice and her husband shouldn’t have foster children at all. It didn’t matter whether they had the twins or any other children, you would be just as mad. They had no right to treat innocent children so harshly. It wasn’t just what you had found out today, it was the buildup of information you had learned over the last 4 months, and you had finally reached your breaking point.

Madelaine’s small sniffle pulls you from your thoughts and the sight before you almost break you completely. You were used to Laine comforting Gray; being the protector out of the two of them. Though now it’s Gray that holds onto Laine’s hands while resting their heads against one another. He doesn’t say anything, but just holds her and provides the safe space they’ve always had. The proximity of one another, their other half that made them whole.

Before you can think better of it, you lean forward to hold the pair. The sniffles subside momentarily as they both look up at you, before crawling into your lap. They both cling onto a shoulder as you whisper sweet nothings and rock them side to side.

“I’m going to fix it, okay?” Gray nods, while Laine clutches on tighter to you. “It’s gonna be okay.” You mutter the words and this time you’re not sure if you’re saying them for the twins or for yourself. The silver lining of your eyes breaks and a few stray tears fall, though you’re quick to wipe them away. You didn’t want either of them to see you cry, the both of them needed a solid, strong pillar to clutch onto in their storm-filled lives.

...

Jake hadn’t made it home yet, and you couldn’t seem to relax. You had been on the move since you had gotten home, tidying up the house, cooking dinner, and starting a batch of laundry, all to avoid the pending conversation that would no doubt be confrontational.

Janice had arrived just as you were taking the twins out, the three of you had stopped crying and knew that someone would be arriving soon. You had asked Janice if you could give her a call tonight, not wanting to have the conversation in front of the twins, and she bitterly told you that you could. Yet here you were, avoiding it. The last conversation you had with the woman ended with you in tears and you could only imagine how this one would go.

You glance at the clock and find that it’s just after 5, Jake would be home around 5:30 and you wanted to be off the phone by the time he arrived. Jake had been more than vocal about the langue lashing he wanted to give them, and you knew if he had the chance, he would jump on it faster than you could blink.

You settle against the kitchen counter, forgoing the idea of sitting, you were high-strung, and staying in one place wasn’t going to happen. You finger ghosts along your contact list until you find Janice’s name, and the small note of foster mom makes you sneer. The line rings quietly, but also as if it was a blaring alarm until there’s a click in the line, followed by a loud what.

“Hello Mrs. Williams, this is Y/n Seresin, the twin’s teacher.”

Your fingers drum against the counter as you wait for a reply, though the only thing she gives you is a hum. Your hand rakes through your hair as you push off the counter and start pacing.

“I was hoping to talk with you about the twins if that’s okay?” The words are barely passed your lips, before Janice cuts in.

“What did they do now?”

Her voice holds such disgust and animosity that it stuns you for a moment and causes you to take a few deep breaths.

“Nothing, they are wonderful in class. I was actually calling about our school field trip this coming Friday.”

“Oh, so they came to you whining about not going, is that it?”

Her voice echoes through that phone and stuns you momentarily. Though when you hear her yelling the twin’s names, you’re quick to cut in.

“No, they didn’t say anything.” Your tone comes out harsher than you intended, though it does get Janice to stop yelling at or for the twins. “I noticed that they lacked a permission slip and wanted to reach out.”

You fear that the line has gone dead momentarily because the only sound you can hear is your own breathing. You pull the phone from your face and glance at it, to see that it is still on the call.

“Well, this Friday we are going out of town and even if we were in town, I’m not going to come chaperone. Not to mention, you are asking for 15 dollars for shirts. What do they need shirts for?”

You hear the door close and you glace to your side to find a smiling Jake. Though his face falls as he takes in your flustered appearance. You hold a finger up to your lips to stop him from talking, you couldn’t multitask right now.

“I really do think that this would be a great learning opportunity for Madelaine and Grayson.” Jake settles against the counter next to you, as he listens understanding who is on the other line without you having to say. “I don’t think that they should miss out on the experience, ma’am.”

“Listen here, unless you’re going to fork up the 30 dollars and be legally liable for them, not only Friday but the whole weekend, you need to shut up and mind your own business.”

You’re startled at her harsh words and your hate for the twins living situation only grows the more you talk to the woman. Though before you can reply, the phone is taken from your hand by a very mad Jake. Your eyes widen in worry, though he gives you a small smile that is in no way reassuring.

“Hello, ma’am. This is Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin, I’ve heard that you have a few issues with the field trip my wife has planned.” You can’t hear exactly what Janice replies, though you know that it’s not what Jake deems acceptable to hear. You silently watch Jake, though his eyes don’t move toward you once. They remain in a harsh glare, facing the back wall of the kitchen. “Ma’am, I understand that you don’t want to pay the fe–”

Your eyes widen when you hear Janice’s voice echo through the phone. There weren’t main people that cut off Jake and the ridged body language, followed by the small click of his tongue is a clear sign of how little it happened. You would have laughed at how much she screwed up, but you can’t stop the way you grab onto Jake’s hand. Your fingers intertwine to get his attention, and your gaze silently pleads him not to go off on her. You didn’t know what the woman was capable of, and you were already afraid that this conversation would lead her to punish the twins.

“Ma’am, if you would’ve been so kind to not interrupt me, you would have known that I will pay for Grayson and Madelaine. I just need you to sign the paper so that they can go.”

Her voice lowers through the phone, and you catch a word every now and again, as you watch Jake toed boot tap away on your hardwood floors.

“They’re going to be in the safest setting that they have, probably ever been in. Not only will my wife and the other parents be watching them, but I will personally be watching them. So don’t tell me that your reluctance is because you are worried about them. I know what type of living situation you’re providing for them, and it sure as hell isn’t safe in any way, shape, or form.”

...

Jake couldn’t even lie and say that he hadn’t meant for his tone to come off harsh. No, he wanted Janice to realize just how pissed off he was. Pushing off the counter, he couldn’t help but pace, it had always helped him calm down growing up. The feeling of your hand loosening in his hold pulls his attention back to you. Taking a step closer to you, he barely listens to the squawking echoing in his ear and tightens his hold on you before lifting the back of your hand to place a gentle kiss on it. Your eyes watch him wearily before they soften, and your own lips meet the back of his hand.

“Look I don’t care what you think about my parenting.” The words pull Jake’s attention back to the conversation at hand. “I don’t care if the little shits go or not, even if it’s going to be a ‘great experience’. If you want to take them so damn bad, then do it. But I’m not paying for them, and you’ll have to figure out what to do with them for the weekend because we won’t be home.”

The harsh sigh that leaves Jake’s lips isn’t other than that; a smack in the face that the kid's wellbeing meant nothing to their foster parents, and that Jake didn’t know if he could fix it.

“Just sign the permission slip.”

He doesn’t know what else to say and doesn’t leave room for Janice to reply before he hangs up.

...

Jake settles the phone on the kitchen counter, before looking back up at you. Your hands are still intertwined while you cradle them in your lap. A sigh leaves the both of your lips, and a deep ache settles in your chest as Jake pulls you to him. Folding your form into his chest as he places a gentle kiss upon the crown of your head. How were you supposed to take the class on a field trip without the twins, it wasn’t fair.

“You think Mrs. Adams could keep a secret?” The words are whispered into your hair and cause you to pull back from Jake in question. “I mean we need to have a reliable witness for when we sign an agreement to take care of the kids for the weekend. I don’t know if it’s internally legal, but neither is Janice leaving the kids at the house alone.”

“Jacob Seresin, what in the world are you talking about?”

The cocky smirk you fell in love with settles on his lips and has you smiling in reaction, the ache in your chest easing slightly at the idea Jake is suggesting.

“The twins are going on the field trip and then staying with us.” A harsh sigh leaves his lips, and his smirk settles into a harsh line. “I won’t let her ruin this for them.”

Your heart blooms in love, once again left to wonder how you got such a loving and loyal man. Your hand slips from his and rises up to cup his cheek, as your thumb works across the frown.

“I love you.” Jake’s eyes fall on you at the comment, though no smiles are passed between the two of you. Your eyes say enough, together you would jump headfirst into the unknown. “I love you so damn much.”

...

“Javy, honey I love you.” Your eyes look to the pilot, who stands behind your husband while occasionally making flirty eyes with Ms. Reynolds. “But why are you here?”

Janice was supposed you come in today and sign the form stating that you and Jake would be legally in charge of the twins for the weekends, as well as be liable if something happened to them. Mrs. Adams had been easy to convince, going as far as to draft up the paperwork herself. It might not have been “law binding” but it sure did look like something a lawyer would draft up.

“Well Jake told me that he needed back up,” Your husband's eyes flash back over his shoulder and look at Javy in bewilderment. “this Janice lady scares him.”

The words cause you and Mrs. Adams to giggle, but it's Jake muttering that Javy only wanted to see Ms. Reynolds that has the pair of you cackling. The harsh knock against the door has all of your eyes fleeting to Mrs. Adams' office entry, the laughter in you quickly dies down as Janice and Ed Williams glare at the five of you. They each carry a small pack that resembles the totes you had bought the twins at the beginning of fall, though the dirt on them makes you question if they're the same ones.

“Well, aren't you all just peppy.” The pair of them drop the bags harshly, and the sneer that Janice gives you makes you shrink back slightly into Jake. You weren’t normally scared so easily, but the pair of them made you uneasy. Their eyes hadn’t left you, even when they addressed Mrs. Adams. Though as an arm wraps around your waist, your shoulders drop and relax further into Jake.

“Right, shall we get this finished up? Lunch will be over soon, and Melissa can only fill in so long.”

Mrs. Adams gives you a small smile that has you giggling. You loved Melissa dearly and she was one of the sweet people you had ever met, though the kids also knew how much of a pushover she was and often conned her into playing Heads Up, Seven Up.

“Yeah, we need to get on the road,” Ed answers Mrs. Adams gruffly as he steps forward to snatch the pen off the desk and sign without any other conversation. The topic of them getting on the road doesn’t go unnoticed, but you keep your questions to yourself for the time being.

Janice grabs the pen from Ed, and the smack of her gum has you glaring slightly. Her signature is messy and hardly legible.

“Which of you five are signing?” Janice flicks the pen out, scanning the room with it before flicking it into your open palm. You give her a small smile and thank you, though she only sneers in reply.

Your eyes flitter from Janice and Ed and back to Jake, who gives you a reassuring smile and a gentle squeeze. You move to sign the document, as Jake steps out from around you and you can hear him introduce himself. From the corner of your eye, you can see Jake’s hand clasping Ed’s in a handshake and the tight grasp Jake has on Ed is anything up-friendly.

Jake lets go only to slide in behind you and gently takes the pen, as a gentle hand settles on your back before signing. The both of you finish and the weight in your chest seems to lift as Mrs. Adams then signs as a witness and gives you a small wink and smile that makes your own grow.

It felt different, the document signed was so much more than just the twins getting to go to Top Gun. It felt as though something deeper had solidified and now you only had to wait for it to become reality.

Your attention is pulled back to the Williams as they move to leave without saying anything else, though you are quick to ask what time you could pick them up in the morning. Both stop in their tracks and a full laugh is released from each of them.

“I wouldn’t know Ms. CeCe.” Janice all but spits the name out as it were venom. “We’re leaving now, not our problem according to that little paper. Have fun with the little devils.”

You had heard the twins mention more than enough times that their foster parents weren't fond of them, though hearing them talk about the children with such hatred shocked you and angered you went in a way that was indescribable. You're stunned in silence momentarily and by the time you realize that you don't have booster seats for either of the kids, the Williams are long gone from the school.

The defeated side falls from your lips, as you're trying to figure out how you can get two booster seats before the end of the school day while still teaching. Jake's hand rests against the small of your back and the slight movement of it reels your mind back in.

“They didn't give us booster seats. I haven't even gotten anything set up yet for them to sleep on, I was going to do it tonight.” You don't direct the statement towards anyone in particular, but you know Jake will be the first one working to find a solution.

“Don't worry sweetheart, Javy and I will take care of it. We've still got a couple hours before we have to be back. We'll go get everything and drop off the booster seats, before heading back to base.”

The words are muttered against your temple before a gentle kiss is placed. You're quick to bring Jake’s hand resting on your waist up to your mouth, to place a gentle kiss of thanks on it. You glance at Mrs. Adams who gives you a smile before she announces to everyone that Melissa is undoubtedly being manipulated by the children. A round of laughs echoed through the room before you leaned up to give Jake a kiss, placing all the love and thank you that you couldn't say into it.

He gives you a small smile before clasping your cheeks and kissing you on the forehead, turning to drag an unhappy Javy away from a smiling Ms. Reynolds. Before they can get far Javy calls out to have you give Ms. Reynolds his phone number. Jake’s laugh echoes off the hallways before he calls out as well, telling you that he may be a little late getting home tonight.

...

You wave to Mrs. Paulson as she guides Allison across the street. Mrs. Paulson had been the one parent that you could always count on, and once again she came to your aid when she decided to help supervise the field trip. You had met her husband at a parent-teacher conference and had instantly fallen in love with the family. Not only was Allison a wonderful student, but her parents were always open to trying new ideas. She just gotten diagnosed with ADHD this last summer and the Paulson, Mrs. Adams, and you were working up the best plan to help Allison.

You glance across the street once more making sure that everyone has been picked, before turning around to find Gray and Laine lying in the front grass watching the sky. Today was warmer than usual and the 70-degree December weather was quite enjoyable. You see Gray point to the sky, causing you to look up to see what the pair have been intensely watching.

A smile forms on your lips as you see a jet fly overhead, one of the perks of being just off base. You had love planes growing up and were always on base when your father was home, seeing the pair of them just as in love with planes only warms your heart more. Your movement toward the twins has them looking at you as you settle on your back beside Grayson, so he now rests between you and Madelaine.

“I think they're doing drills,” You hum in reply to Gray, waiting for him to continue. “They’ve been running the same pattern since we laid down.”

“See, watch how the two side planes break off and the middle one breaks toward either one.” You glance at Madelaine, silently wondering when she had become interested in planes. “Maybe it’s Mr. Jake. He’s a good flyer, right Gray.”

“Right.”

They both sound so sure of themselves and you giggle at how serious they are. Jake was going to eat this up when you told him, just one more thing to add to the ever-growing ego. You lay with them for a bit, enjoying how they talk about each plane so animatedly. You glance at your watch and find that it's nearing 4:30; the three of you needed to get home to ready where the twins are sleeping.

Home.

The word jars you for a minute and you have to silently remind yourself that it wasn’t the twin’s home. The arrangement was only for the weekend, and they weren’t your children, no matter how much you wished that they were.

“Alright you two, we need to get going.” You rise onto your elbows and find the pair of them grinning at you. You had talked to them the morning after you called Janice and asked if they would be okay staying with you. You would never want to make either of them uncomfortable, and luckily they were more than excited at the idea of staying with you. More so when they realized it meant they would get to go on the field trip.

...

The car ride home was easy thanks to the pre-installed car seats, which you would have to thank Jake and Javy for. You had given Madelaine your phone when she had asked to pick the songs and unsurprisingly the five-year-old had put on one of your Spotify playlists that she continually requested during art time in class. Both you and Gray were happily surprised at her choice of 80’s hits.

The pair of them had sung the whole way home, putting on quite the show from what you could see in the review mirror. Their little voices filled that small car, flipping between words they knew, to just humming along to the tune.

You pull up to the house, the vacant parking space and dark house confirm that Jake was indeed going to be late tonight. Both of the kids are out of the car before you can even try to unbuckle them. Their eyes sparkle are they look at the white bungalow, bouncing on their toes at the sight of a front lawn and you can hear Gray whisper to Laine, asking if they were actually allowed to play on it.

The question hurts, such a simple request that had no doubt been denied before. Though before you can fall further down the rabbit hole, you grab the twin totes from the passenger seat. You were going to enjoy this weekend, make it the best experience for them both, and not think about everything else.

“Come on my darlings,” You glance at your watch and find that it's almost five. “We’ve got to cook dinner and get your beds situated for tonight, we’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

Both of them give you a massive smile and Gray is quick to latch onto your hand, while Laine walks up the red stone walkway. You knew that Gray got anxious when it came to new ideas and had expected him to be attached to you for most of the night.

Laine, on the other hand, would know the house like the back of her hand by the end of the weekend and most likely have Jake wrapped around her finger. More so than he already is.

To your complete surprise, upon entry into the guest bedroom, you found the white daybed completely set up with the bedding set you had picked up the other day. You and Jake had decided that for this weekend the twins could stay in one room together, you didn’t want to separate them and cause any unneeded stress. While you had thought you would be setting up the room tonight, Jake and Javy must have come by and done it after finding out that the twins would be staying tonight.

“Alright you two, what do you think?” You hadn’t realized just how worried you were about the twins liking what you had picked out for them. You had found a set of light and dark blue bed sheets that you thought would be appropriate. Then found each of them their own special blanket, Gray’s consisted of planes and the Navy emblem, while Lainie’s had turtles and other tropical fish.

You watch the both of them carefully as they walk into the room, taking in the plain white walls and the small book nook where you enjoyed reading. They move slowly through the room, fingers running over the dresser and then stopping at the bed. The totes fall from their hands, and they slowly pick up the blankets, examining the cotton as if they had never had a blanket to call their own.

You don’t move and the breath in your chest catches at the reality that is unfolding before you. How long had they gone unloved? How many nights did they cry wrapped in each other’s arms, the only form of protection they knew? Your eyes are misty, and you wipe at the awaiting tear before it can fall.

“Ms. CeCe, who are these for?” Laine asks with only the tiniest echo behind the words.

“They’re yours,” Your voice catches and causes both the twins to turn around. “I picked them out for you. Do you like them?”

A small hum comes from the pair as they clutch onto the blankets and watch you carefully. You give them a weak smile, though before you can let your emotions overwhelm all three of you the sound of the front door opening, and closing has you looking back out into the hall.

“Darlin’?”

The voice has Laine letting out a small squeal before she races past you, blanket in tow, and makes for the front door.

“Mr. Jake!”

Gray settles at your side, holding onto your hand as the both of you make your way out to the front hall. The sight of Madelaine clutching onto Jake as he holds her stops you in your track, and for a moment you forget that they aren’t yours and Jake’s children. How had they looked so much like Jake, with the perfect dirty blonde hair and the small award-winning smile.

Jake glances up at you and gives both you and Gray a smile before he runs a hand down the back of Laine’s hair. A quiet hello, little darlin’ just barely reaches your ears, though as Laine tightens her hold on Jake, you know you heard right.

“We saw you flying today, Mr. Jake.”

The small voice gains the attention of all three of you, and as you look down Gray only smiles back at you in hopes that you’ll confirm what he’s said. Though before you can say anything, Jake adjusts Laine onto his hip, and he walks to bend down in front of Grayson.

“Is that right, buddy?” A smile forms on Gray’s lip before he gives Jake a firm nod. “And how was I doing? Did I meet your standards?”

Gray nods once again, before Laine looks at him in question then turns back to Jake. “Gray says you’re the best.”

“That so?”

Gray’s hand tightens around yours before a hum and smile break across his face. “The best fighter pilot ever seen.”

You hear Jake’s breath catch before his free arm reaches out to grab Gray. A laugh breaks from Gray and any worry you had of him being uncomfortable around Jake, falls to silent ears. With one on each hip, Jake rises and looks at you, the both of you share knowing looks while the twins laugh.

Life had never felt this perfect. You and Jake had always felt whole like you weren’t missing a part of the puzzle, though an add-on would have been welcomed. But now, you both knew that the four of you were the complete puzzle. That without both Gray and Laine in your lives, a part of your puzzle would be incomplete for the first time.

#sweet nothings series #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #gingy writes #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #top gun #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin fluff #Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin #tgm #tgm imagine #tgm fic

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achilleswritesstuff · 2 months ago

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My Calypso with Miss @gigizetz 's background. I'll put my thought process below the art bc I don't wanna type out a whole paragraph above the art. Also there are spoilers, so yeah

I'm basically just copying what I explained to my friends and put on my instagram post so bear with it.

To celebrate Epic: The Musical's Wisdom Saga coming out I drew my version of Calypso. I went through a couple different ideas before settling on her because what her design was to me, is right up my alley. I used Miss Gigi's background shot, so by NO means is it mine.

She has 7 eyes bc she trapped Ody for 7 yrs and it's the 7th saga. Her 4 arms show literally holding Odysseus hostage. More than 2 eyes show that she always has her eyes on him. The chains are like what's keeping him trapped yk. She's wearing traditional Trinidadian clothes so not much on that. Her hairstyle I always pictures half up so I did that and I based the braids on a hairstyle I've had multiple times. Her nose is also based off of me bc I am an Island girlie. Her earrings are the first earrings me and my cousins and the rest of us have gotten and that's like the trini default earrings. The ripples are vaguely like waves since she lives on an island.

About the design I have some notes but there are a couple things I wanted to say. Basically since the creator of Epic: The Musical, Mr. Jorge Rivera-Herrans, used calypso music for the Calypso character, I based her heavily off of my culture, Trinidad and Tobago culture. I figured calypso music was from the islands but was too scared to claim it in case it wasn't from my country specifically, but knowing that made the design process a lot more relaxed. I wasn't grown up with traditional Trinidadian clothing, save for when I participated in Carnival as a kid, so I had to do research on the dresses and stuff. Drawing non-human characters, even if humanoid, is something I've been trying recently and I'm starting to enjoy it.

Side note: I imagine if I were to animate this, Odysseus' confusion at Calypso being a goddess would dissipate when she opens the 5 other eyes she has.

Please go listen to Epic, it's been consuming me whole since 2020 or so

#epic the musical fanart #epic the musical #epic musical #epic the wisdom saga #epic calypso #calypso #greek mythology #traditional art #traditional drawing #Spotify #the wisdom saga

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talkfastromance4 · 2 years ago

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Best Coffee I ever had--ashton irwin

This has been on my mind since I was making my own coffee this morning (yesterday since it’s after midnight right now) this is pure fluff for 1.5K words

••••

Ashton isn’t the type of person to sleep in unless his body is caught up in jet lag or he’s just returned home from touring and traveling. As soon as his body is in his own bed he becomes dead to the world and sleeps for as long as his body needs. Usually, when he awakes from his deep slumbers like that, he’s disoriented on the time and the place.

But he’ll get up, make himself a pot of coffee, meditate, play some music or just sit out in his garden and be in the presence of nature.

This time when he came home, you were there waiting for him with streamers and a big sign welcoming him home. You’d even made a cake (vegan like he likes) with your careful writing of his name in the icing. You also ordered his favorite food and it was delivered about fifteen minutes after he arrived.

The two of you ate in his living room on the floor while Modern Family played in the background and you caught up with each other (not like you weren’t texting his whole flight anyway). He loved the way you laughed and snorted when he recalled Michael thinking he forgot his passport again. Ashton did a perfect impersonation of Michael freaking out about it and that’s what made you laugh so hard.

After dinner and a shared piece of cake, he held you close by the sink while you were cleaning up the dishes. His arms wrapped around your front and you placed your hands over his interlaced ones, enjoying this pause. It didn’t seem like he wanted to let you go yet, so you twisted around in his arms and he folded into you, his face tucked into your neck.

“You okay?” you ask quietly, you rub at the bottom of his neck.

“Mhm, just wanna hold you for a bit,” he mumbles then kisses your shoulder.

“Okay,” you smile.

You held each other until the beats of your hearts synced up, your bodies swaying slightly, the dishes long forgotten. When you started to hum softly in his ear, that’s when he pulled away.

“If you’re going to start humming then we need to get me to bed,” he smiled sleepily at you.

So you did. The two of you settled under his covers with Ashton snuggling close to you, his head resting on your chest. You resumed rubbing at his hair and neck, your other hand tickling up and down his forearm. Then you started to hum a nonsense song and Ashton’s breath began to slow.

This is what you missed the most when he was gone, being with him and feeling him relax. He’s usually so wired and ready to go and rightfully so since it’s his job and has been a huge part of his life for so long. But this is the side of him only you get to see. Where his walls are down, his muscles are relaxed, and he’s just Ashton, not Ashton Irwin the drummer of 5 Seconds of Summer.

He’s not sure what it was that woke him up, but suddenly he was shifting and stretching his legs under the blankets. He peeks his eyes open to the sun shining through the cracks of his blinds and the night before comes rushing back. He runs through them like a list.

You were here. You were here with food and cake and your warmth. You went to sleep in his bed with him. He was home and you were here and you’re his home now. He rolled over to wish you a good morning but was disappointed to find a barren pillow next to him.

Then he heard a clatter from the doorway and your quiet swear. Smiling to himself, he tumbles out of bed and pads down the hall towards his kitchen. His sign and streamers were still hung up on the back door, he’s going to keep them up for as long as the tape lasts, and you were standing in front of his coffeemaker wearing one of his henleys. One foot was crossed over the other as you tried to figure out his coffee grinder.

“Damnet!”

“What are you doing?” he asks and you jump about a foot in the air upon hearing his voice.

“Ash! Go back to bed, I’m making you coffee,” you order then turn back to your task.

He doesn’t listen and instead moves behind you. He giggles at the mess you’ve made on his white countertop, a few stray coffee beans are scattered about along with some dusting of the ones you’ve already ground. The top of his coffee maker is flipped up and you turn the grinder over then pat the bottom of it like a ketchup bottle so the rest of the beans fall into the filter.

“Honey,” he takes the grinder from you and pops out the little cup that’s sat atop, “you know this twists out right?”

Your lips are pursed as you stare at the two objects now in his hands then give him a sheepish look.

“Of course I did, I just can’t get it back in there so it’s easier for me to pat it in.”

“Okay,” he smiles and kisses your temple before peering into his coffeemaker. It has more coffee beans in there then he’d normally have but he wasn’t going to tell you that. “Is it just coffee for breakfast?”

“We could have a piece of your cake again if you’d like,” you smile, eyes brightening as you move back to your task of coffee. You flip the cover down then push the button. It spurts and spews to life, the water cycle starting it’s journey to filter the coffee beans.

“I’ll get plates.”

He gathers the cake, plates, forks, and two mugs for your coffees. He sits down at his island and looks at his mail that is sorted into four piles. You climb onto his lap, his arms wrap around you instantly.

“I sorted it into four groups,” you explain and point to each, “personal, bills, subscriptions, and miscellaneous. I didn’t throw any of it away so you could look at it and decide what you wanted to do with it.”

“Thanks honey, I appreciate that,” he murmurs and rests his chin onto your shoulder.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“I slept great,” he smiles, “I don’t even know what time it is right now.”

“It’s about eleven thirty,” you pat down his unruly curls. “What do you usually do your first day back home?”

“Realign myself, I guess so that my mind and body know I’m home and not on a constant go-go-go.”

“How do you do that?”

“Burn candles or incense, play some music, make some music, read,” he shrugs, “whatever I feel my body needs.”

“That sounds nice,” you smile sweetly and kiss his nose. “Can I join you?”

“I’d be brokenhearted if you didn’t,” he mumbles and kisses you gently. You cup his cheek, your lips familiarizing with each other again until his coffeemaker stops making noise.

“Coffee time!” you chirp and hop off his lap to pour your cups.

He watches you move about his kitchen, knowing where his spoons are so you can stir in your desired cream and sugar. He likes it a bit too much seeing you be so comfortable but he doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with that. It’s different since he’s so used to being alone, but having you here in his space is such a comfort.

When you pour his cup (he notices how dark the coffee is as it falls into his cup. You still have that bright and excited smile on your face when you bring it over.

“Here you go, baby,” you set it down in front of him happily.

He takes a deep breath as he lifts the mug up, the smell of it is very, very strong but he takes a sip. The taste is even stronger and more bitter, he feels his lips curve into a pucker but he forces it down. You went through all this trouble to make his first morning home pleasant that he couldn’t break it to you that the coffee is a little too strong.

“Good?” you ask and sip at your own coffee. You don’t make a face, however, because of your cream and sugar.

Ashton takes another big gulp before he pulls you closer to him, he touches your cheek.

“Best coffee I ever had,” he tells you seriously. The look on your face filled him with warmth.

And it was his favorite coffee he’s had because you made it. He drank the whole pot while he listened to you talk about this new book you were reading but made a mental note to show you the next morning how to use his coffee appliances.

Taglist: @calumance @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower @mymindwide @itjustkindahappenedreally @seanna313 @mulletcal @pandaxnienke @celestialams @in-a-world-of-fandoms @blairscott @writersdare

#ashton blurb #ashton fluff #ashton Irwin blurb #ashton irwin fluff #ashton oneshot #ashton x you #Ashton Irwin writing

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heyiwrotesomethings · 1 year ago

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Hi everybody! I’m mostly settled in back home and I’m feeling a lot more energized and ready to finish up those last few requests so I can go into September with a clean slate. Thank you all for your patience, it feels good to be back :D

Under the cut are some pictures from my trip for those who may be interested to see what I was up to.

Starting off strong with a black bear we saw on the side of the road! We saw 5 total I think. All while driving, which was be a theme for most of the animals we hoped to see on our trip. One of the scariest moments was when one bounded into the road in front of us. A very close call, but nobody (person or animal) was hurt. (Riding Mountain NP, Manitoba, Canada)

This elk silently strode right into our campsite one morning. I looked up and I had a heart attack because he emerged from the bushes like a reverse Homer Simpson. He was very chill though, went to go eat leaves in the little island surrounded by campsites. He came back the next morning too. You really don’t think about how big an elk is until the only thing separating you is a picnic table. (Prince Albert NP, Saskatchewan, Canada)

Bison, also seen on the side of the road while driving by. This was also the same place where I saw the beavers and because of that I think that’s why this place is ultimately my favorite from the whole trip. I’ve only seen one wild beaver in my life before I came here so getting to see a bunch chew and swim around made me very happy. Also, you could not pay me to get into the water there. Never mind the fact that they had a blue-green algae bloom, but they also had leeches that you could see swimming around just by looking in from the dock. Icky, but fun to watch. (Elk Island NP, Alberta, Canada)

Moose, also brought to you by simply driving down the road. Which is funny because we went on a trail that pretty much guaranteed you to see moose and we didn’t see a single one. But this one was just hanging out on the side of the road maybe 40/50km away from the critically acclaimed moose spot. She was the only moose we saw, and some people were disappointed to have not seen one with antlers, but I say better one than none. (Jasper NP, Alberta, Canada)

Jasper probably had the most cool views. Love me a mountain with a big ol’ glacier on it. There was a nice, cool wind that blew through this area almost constantly. (Jasper NP, Alberta, Canada)

Another elk, but this one was too cool not to share in my opinion. Another from the car shot as we left Jasper. He’s running with the mountains in the background and he’s got the biggest antlers I’ve ever seen. Super neat. (Jasper NP, Alberta, Canada)

Here’s a nice little artsy photo I took. We saw a lot of these purple flowers around and I think they’re really pretty, especially paired with the beautiful glacial waters and rugged mountains. Wish I could see views like this all the time. (Yoho NP, British Colombia, Canada)

I know this probably doesn’t look like much, but I think it’s so neat to look at. It’s a mountain that still has snow (maybe a very small glacier idk) on it but also has a little dune that looks like it belongs in the desert and a refreshing little stream curving around the rock. I took this photo while on a 10 mile (~16km) hike too much elevation gain and the down didn’t feel much better, but on those rare stretches of flat ground I felt like Rock Lee when he took off his ankle weights. Also, 10 mile hike up a mountain, barely any people around, you think we saw any animals? No. No we did not. (Yoho NP, British Colombia, Canada)

I think these birds are called Clark’s Nutcrackers if my quick googling is to be trusted. I thought they were really cute, but also kind of vicious. I saw one dive bomb a woman and steal a good chunk of her wrap/burrito. (Banff NP, Lake Louise, Alberta Canada)

A whole herd of big horn sheep seen while waking around the campground. Some of them looked really menacing. Really big horns and super buff. If one wanted to mess you up, it definitely could. Still really neat to see from a distance! We also checked out the hot spring nearby. Too hot for me, so I spent most of my time in the little cool pool, a refreshing 55F (~13C). (Kootenay NP, British Colombia, Canada)

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a1t-alt · 9 months ago

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LONG PERSONAL POST - BG3 AND HOW I PLAY IT (SPOILERS /gen)

Hi okay so I'm fucking insane and I NEED to tell SOMEONE because I'm being bullied to hell (deserved) by my close friends over this- I am an incredibly slow gamer and I’m very particular about how I play. Save scumming? I don’t know what you mean. Romancing literally anyone that isn't Astarion? I'm pretty sure that isn't real but a lie made up by Larian Studios to convince more people to play the game (/j). It's literally the only thing I play ever anymore.. besides Minecraft, but I digress.

I got BG3 in the middle of September (2023) through game share, and started by playing with my brother and his boyfriend with mods! I didn't get to play much of that character, but that's not the point okay. Okay the point is- a few things actually. Let me start with-

My first time playing BG3 was modded. I played MAYBE 3 hours on that character. They were gorgeous and unfortunately they no longer exist. I spent more than half of that time making them. They were a dragonborn and I don't remember for certain? But I Think they were just a Tav, not Durge. Unfortunately their name is also lost to the cosmos :( Here are a couple of the very few pictures I have of them!

I made a few characters at first, let's say like.. 5? Two were Durge, the others Tavs. 3 of those 5 got maybe a maximum of 6 hours each, never made it into the Emerald Grove. I think.. I'm pretty sure all but 1 went through the ruins and got Withers. The 4th one, my main and New Very Cool And Awesome Black Dragonborn Barbarian Durge™ got up to!! I believe it was up to 38 hours? I had done only a few things though! I had taken care of Kagha (no kill, I convinced her to not side with the shadow druids, she didn't hurt Arabella), I had gone through and done pretty much everything in the Emerald Grove? I saved Mirkon, I saved Arabella, I played it up with Volo, I killed the squirrel, I saved the tiefling from being assassinated and got a coin out of it (sick, was completely unintentional, I didn't like her much), bought stuff from the kids and all kinds of other things- you get it. I had gone through the blighted village, went through Waukeen’s Rest (but idk if I saw the Zhentarim with this character), killed the big spider, looted so many things, killed Ethal, revived Mayrina’s husband, found infernal iron, saved Karlach after save scumming her death and getting the fire armour for Wyll but it's okay because she was Fine After- *gasp* I got her engine upgraded once, and the very very last things I did was defeat the gobbo camp then kill Minthara and Dror Ragzlin (and Gut ofc, but I killed her first). I was in the middle of the party with the tieflings! I saved before anything happened, so I didn't see the fun stuff, but uh.. yeah, I ended up resetting my game, deleting all my mods and such to play with my partner. So went the days with my darling Melaqyn :’))) I miss them all of the everyday actually. Unfortunately I can't find any pictures of them :(( so here's some pictures of another of my early dragonborns, Sesaphael (name graciously yoinked from my partner's OC).

After I lost Melaqyn (which if I'm honest, I didn't actually lose them. I just didn't have the mods anymore and really didn't want to corrupt the file) I ended up making a few random characters- by a few I mean.. like 10, but only 2 or 3 survived. I made a couple also for playing with people, which were based on my own characters, so they were a little bit special? I started a game with a DND character I had made a year or two ago, who has the Haunted One background lmao- their name is Skulk- I'd show pictures but I'm really not that proud of how they look anymore >< I kinda floated for a bit in between games- I was playing all the time, but never settling- I was genuinely mourning Melaqyn.

Determined to get back on my feet with a character for real, I made a tiefling, named them “Ammarir”. They were supposed to look a bit like me, sort of like playing myself? Just a Tav though, which I regret to be honest but! There's always more time- I've been playing Ammarir since October 4th! They’re vanilla, so it was nice to not have to worry about corrupting their file. I started playing them slow at first, in between other campaigns, but I did keep coming back to them. Here are some early game pictures!

I was very quickly falling in love with them, and as soon as the mirror got added holy SHIT- I'VE CHANGED THEIR APPEARANCE SO MUCH OVER TIME NOW- Here are a couple early pictures from right after the mirror was introduced!

As I've made progress in the storyline with them, I've been having vitiligo spread slowly over their body- they don't have it here but will in upcoming pictures. I played and played and played and I'd done a ton of completionist type shit with their campaign (futile I know) until I finally got to the same amount of hours. It was insane, I wasn't as far into the game as I was with Melaqyn- I hadn't even made it to the gobbo camp yet. It took me 47 hours to make it there, and I knew this time around that Minthara was a companion. However, I did kill her, and I did keep her body in my camp, and It Is Still in my traveller's chest.

I started getting anxious about playing, about the idea of making progress, of missing anything, of saying something wrong or fighting when I shouldn't have. I didn't want to look anything up because I wanted it to be fun and a surprise.. but I also made myself look things up because I couldn't handle the thought of getting things wrong. I had heard Astarion was hard to romance, so I used a guide for So Many interactions, with him and with him around. He's been a permanent party member (save for when I'm working on the others and have to trade people out for a moment, but even then I usually keep him in the party). Pictures from before the party! (They're taken a small time apart, and I only know because you can't see vitiligo on the first one.)

The prospect of playing the game became so daunting, I ended up spending a lot of time just mucking about and sorting my inventory and collecting items and finding nothingness so I didn't have to move on. I finally got a push from my partner to talk with Zevlor about the party, and we did it! And it was awesome! And Astarion was very pleased with me! Alfira was there! I really liked the party. Even after that though, I didn't really.. move on. I ended up going through the underdark and at ~70 hours, I finished everything down there, everything else in the main Act 1 space, and finally ventured to the crèche. I didn't spend a lot of time there to be honest, jumping back and forth between it and the Emerald Grove to sell things, buy things, the likes. I managed to sneak out the back of the crèche and not fight anyone (except the guys waiting in the room where Vlakith was) so I moved on and got out of there because those guys are tough, and I'm not good at combat lmao. I made a lot of changes between the tiefling party and just after the crèche, so here's a little run down! (Gotta love the zaith'isk)

I've only recently made it into Act 2, early December I think. I've hardly done anything as far as I know. I saved Isobel (reloaded a couple times bc I am NOT hurting Dammon <3), talked to He-Who-Was (I've not done his quest yet but I agreed to), I've taken care of the tollhouse (literally like not even a week ago), spoke with Raphael in the Inn, as well as now just past the House of Healing, I did some dark justiciar stuff with Shart, killed Kar'niss (sadge u-u), saved Arabella again, a couple other things I'm sure and I'm currently going through the House of Healing-

Real quick I want to add- I had a few weeks where I couldn't bring myself to play Ammarir. I didn't (and still don't) know what lies ahead in the story and I just. Couldn't. I decided one night, a week or two ago now, that I want mods again. Mostly just visual stuff, I love the customization in this game, and I wanted a little more freedom. I also discovered the beautiful basket full of equipment mod and I've been very much enjoying the sick as fuck armour B) I didn't want to load up their game at first, since I made them to be! A vanilla campaign! But I thought.. “I'm not having fun and this feels like a chore. We can play with the mods and see how it goes!” And holy SHIT I've been having so much more fun :’)

As of writing this, I'm at 114+ hours on Ammarir's playthrough. I've had the scenes with Gale and Wyll, didn't uhh.. I wasn't interested in Gale (but I'd be lying if I said I didn't go through with it and reload-) but I went through with the kiss with Wyll! Which finally sparked the single neuron that's still alive in Astarion's soiled pants (/a) of a brain to bring up the nature of our relationship. Here's some pictures from some of my most recent gameplay (in order of oldest to newest, over the span of like 9 days).

This all got away from me- I really did just mean to say that I am a very slow player. My brother’s boyfriend has beaten the game, got farther than I am in less than 24 hours which is insane to me. I suppose now at the bottom of this all, I should tell you how many hours I have in the game in total. Mind you, where Ammarir is now, is as far as I've seen the game.

(Everything prior to this text was written on January 21st, 2024. The latter has written on February 12th, 2024)

Having mistakenly left this to simmer a little too long, I now have 431.2 hours in the game. Ammarir is now in early Act 3, with 158+ hours, and boy do I have some things to add since I wrote all of that.

Picking up where I left off, I did most everything in Act 2! I’ve realised that in doing the Last Light Inn quest things early in Act 2, I missed some interactions :( One, I didn’t get to play chess with Mol and Raphael (I actually don’t know what happens in that interaction at all- I haven’t seen it anywhere and I don’t really want to seek it out. I’ll see it eventually). Two, I think I spoke to Rolan at Last Light about his siblings, but I never saw him again after that. I didn’t know I should’ve looked for him until after I did the Nightsong quest. He wasn’t where he was supposed to be, and I had a broken quest which sucks, but it’s okay.

I saved all the tiefs and dwarves from Moonlight Towers- but let me go back a little. I did pretty much every single thing possible in the Shadow Cursed Lands, and! I went back to the Creche and destroyed everyone (bc I’m a loot goblin and I couldn’t leave all those goodies behind ToT). With the Creche cleared out, I sort of just went between the Emerald Grove, Last Light Inn and the Thorm family businesses™ for a handful of reasons.

There were two things in particular that I really wanted to do with Ammarir’s playthrough, which were collecting every single skull and head I could get my hands on, and unlocking every edge of the map, everywhere I went. I’m sure I’ve missed many a head, and some spots on the maps were impossible to get to, but I’ve done my best.

It’s been a minute since I’ve added pictures, and my babe changed a lot through the Shadow Cursed Lands, so here’s a few pics!

By this point I’d finished everything in Moonrise and got myself prepared for Act 3- well sort of. I knew that I was reaching the end of Act 2, but I didn’t know anything about the transition in between? So I was wrapping all of my quests up, trying to find Rolan, looking for anything I could- realising too late that I didn’t and couldn’t bring my brain jars from the Nautiloid into Moonrise with me- after killing Ketherik. But it’s okay, I have them both neatly set aside on another campaign. Anyhow, I saved Dame Aylin, and she and Isobel are in my camp now, happily by one another’s side again. Shart has her snowy hair, and a very pretty white and gold makeup look to match, and I went to the road to Baldur’s Gate.

In camp, I was going through some of the clothes I had picked up- found a pair of pants, that are just.. pants? No shirt? I thought it would be funny if I had Ammarir wear those as camp clothes and uh.. Immediately went into the cutscene to start Act 3 ToT. So I have some pictures of them just.. topless, looking out over the city. I reloaded, changed them into something more comfortable and appropriate, and went through the cutscene again. These are pictures from leaving the Shadow Cursed Lands, entering the Act 3 intro, and the beginning of the scene in the Astral Prism.

I had no idea what to expect!! I didn’t know that Gith came after us at camp, I didn’t know that I had to go into the prism and fight, I didn’t know that I was going to meet The Emperor yet! It had been kind of a long fucking time since the last time I saw my gaurdian, so I genuinely wasn’t sure when it was going to happen. I did figure out that my guardian was The Emperor early on in playing the game- not entirely spoiled for me by stuff online or by friends, but genuinely just.. Finding out that The Emperor exists in the Astral Plane kind of tickled my brain an odd way lmao.

Now, I had been waiting a long, long time for this event- I knew nothing about how it happened, but talking with The Emperor and getting the astral-touched parasite was something I was Very Excited to have happen. I didn’t know it happened at the beginning of Act 3- though I didn’t know when it was going to happen at all, so it’s not saying much to be honest. Like I said, I was waiting for this, and I very graciously accepted this gift. Quite hastily perhaps even- when I started Ammarir’s game, I had no intention of using the Mindflayer abilities At All! But how could I turn down the offer? I’d begun using the abilities rather frequently by the time I entered Act 2, and by the end I was pretty juiced up on worms frankly. Here’s Ammarir after using the parasite!

I wasn’t alone in my venture either, I wanted to share this with my companions- of course- but I wasn’t going to Make Anyone do something they didn’t want to do. I spoke with Astarion first, considering he and Ammarir are together, what he thought. He was heavily against it for himself, and y’know what? Fair! I don’t plan on having him “evolve” at all, not past normal parasites. Gale I spoke to and he wasn’t opposed, but wasn’t for it. I convinced him pretty easy peasy and now he’s joined in on the fun! Skipping to Lae’zel, I did convince her to use the astral-touched parasite as well, and I’m not even a little sorry. She looks fucking awesome, and she’s so powerful TwT Gonna put just a couple pics of them in here, as a treat~ (before And after)

Considering I didn't evolve Astarion and don't plan to, I wasn't planning on posting pictures of him here- and I've reached my image limit, or I would 10000% show him here. Unfortunately though, I can't, but if anyone wants to see him, I'll post some pictures of him and Ammarir separately <3

As of writing this, I’ve not gotten very far into Act 3. In Rivington now- donated to the Flaming Fist for the refugees, spoken to a handful of folks around, was granted access to the circus (but I’ve not gone in yet) and I traded with the shady fucker who trades “antiques”. I’ve also run into Orin! The blacksmith’s shop is really cute, I’m absolutely in love with Exxvikyap 🥺 Seeing all the Baldurians who absentmindedly look up to Gortash is giving me whiplash (I’ve hated the guy since BEFORE I started playing ToT Fuck him).

Anyway, I could go on and on and on forever, but I think.. I think I will finish this off here, for now. If I end up updating this in the future, I’ll be more timely about it- After all, I did just pick up a Durge OC campaign that I’ve been wanting to do for months.

#BG3 #Baldur's Gate 3 #spoilers #BG3 spoilers #Baldur's Gate 3 spoilers #Tav #BG3 Tav #Gale Dekarios #Lae'zel #The Emperor #Astarion #BG3 mods #Was gonna have this peer reviewed but I promised to post it tonight so no beta we die like Alfira #I need therapy #I'm too gay to play this game I'm obsessed ToT /pos #bg3 act 1 spoilers #bg3 act 2 spoilers #bg3 act 3 spoilers

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freudianslumber · 1 year ago

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Today, Tomorrow and Forever

Summary: Angel Elvis went through Hell when being falsely accused of betraying God. Eventually found true love with LAPD narcotics officer B.B. King.

Chapter 5 Y2K Revelation

Pairing: B.B. King x Elvis Presley (m/m)

Word count: 2.1k

Warning: graphic depiction of wounds, reference to past rape and abuse

B.B. was not prepared for what he saw. Sure he had seen a lot of scarred up gang members before, but he really couldn’t reconcile the number and extent of wounds and bruises on Elvis’ back and buttocks with that sweet looking face. The additional puncture wounds on his thigh only added to this startling picture, contrasting against the otherwise smooth pale skin. But the most striking of all was what looked like the remnants of a pair of haphazardly amputated appendages over Elvis’ shoulder blades. They were at most an inch or two in length, but rather wide, almost traversing his entire scapula bilaterally. Their jagged edges were covered with thick scabs of old blood, the rest was hidden in a layer of delicate white feathers. B.B inadvertently took a step backwards and gasped out: “What on earth??... What are these?? Are you a mutant?”

On hearing that Elvis’ shoulders slumped and he hung his head. A moment later a quiet sob commenced as he brought up a hand to wipe his eyes and face. Eventually he managed a reply in a nasally voice: “Sorry, sir. I don’t know what I am anymore. I’ve lost…everything.” He sounded so lonely and desolate it broke B.B.’s heart. On a whim he grabbed Elvis by the shoulder, turned him around and engulfed him with a warm embrace: “Hey, don’t worry, you’re safe with me. Tell me who did this to you.”

That was when Elvis felt his emotional dam break, he bawled his eyes out, holding onto this caring man in front of him as if his life depended on it. B.B. gingerly stroked the younger man’s back, trying to provide comfort while not hurting him accidentally at the same time. Then he meticulously dried Elvis’ hair and body with a towel, dressed every open wound the best he could with a first aid kit, and put him in warm nightware before assisting him to bed. Feeling so grateful and finally settled, Elvis spent the next hour recounting his past, giving B.B. his life story up until how he ended up at roadside in snowy Sequoia. B.B got the feeling Elvis was withholding a lot of the details of his harrowing experience in Hell, but anyone with eyes could tell how much torture the young angel had suffered through by taking a look at his injuries. B.B. wiped away a tear from his eye when he thought about the remarkable resilience and grace Elvis had exhibited in the face of all the betrayals and mistreatment. It was amazing how close he already felt with this fallen angel, almost like a kinship, and may be something more… B.B. quickly distracted himself by filling Elvis in on his own background, family and work. When Elvis learned about the way B.B. had lost his love Jimi, he gave B.B. a hug so sincere and reassured him Jimi must be an angel now.

Time passed by so quickly as the angel and his rescuer bonded through conversation, not forgetting to munch down on a few sandwiches in between. Elvis’ droopy eyelids reminded B.B. losing more sleep would be detrimental to his healing process. So he insisted on tucking Elvis in for the night, although the latter seemed to have countless more topics to talk about. He went to settle down on the couch despite objection from his injured guest. He turned off the light and closed his eyes, was starting to drift off into sleep when Elvis pipe up again: “B.B.?? Can I call you Gunnie from now on?? I wanna have a special name I can call you by. You carry a gun all the time and your name also reminds me of a BB gun.” “OK OK Elvis, god you’re such a kid!” B.B. scoffed, followed by a chuckle as he turned over on the couch. Two minutes later, “Gunnie??” B.B. groaned in the dark, “What now Elvis?” “P-please don’t send me away. I don’t want ‘em to treat me like a freak or use me in an experiment…” B.B. suddenly felt his heart being squeezed a little in his chest. He sat up, turned the light on dim and walked over to the bed. He sat down next to Elvis who was laying on his stomach, face turning sideways half-buried in the pillow. B.B. ran his hand through that head of soft, raven hair: “Elvis, remember this: I will never hurt you. Now go to sleep and don’t think about anything else.” Elvis leaned his head into B.B.’s touch satisfyingly: “Thanks Gunnie! Good night!”

The next morning B.B. let his exhausted guest sleep in while he made a phone call to his sister, Tina who was a physician in private general practice in Pasadena. He really preferred not to divulge too much over the phone, however he realized that this was extraordinary circumstance, and he could not risk having Tina freak out during examination. So B.B. tried mighty hard to downplay the shock value of him bringing over a wounded angel he had picked up last night at the side of the road in Sequoia. Not surprisingly, Tina thought at first he was playing an April Fool’s trick even though it was February. Only after B.B. swore numerous times he was being deadly serious did his sister reluctantly agree to add this VIP patient on her schedule as the last one for her p.m. clinic. He let out a sigh of relief after he hang up the phone, then started to pack up to prepare for the trip back to the city.

B.B. paused when he heard Elvis cough slightly in his sleep, walked over to the bed and found the young man back in deep slumber, but breathing noisily as if he had some phlegm to clear from his chest. B.B.’s eyebrows knitted together concerningly, before rushing out to get some food for two from the free brunch at the hotel cafeteria. When he came back, he found Elvis already awake and up, slipped into the polo shirt and khaki pant he had laid out on the bed for him. The fit was a little loose but passable, and in any case it was more comfy this way due to the injuries. Elvis thanked him profusely for everything, his sickly pale countenance finally showing some colors, not sure if from blushing. The two of them filled up quickly on pancakes, milk, bacon and eggs. B.B. went to the hotel lobby and checked out one day early, then he carried the luggage into his Jeep and assisted Elvis to walk to the car. The latter didn’t think he needed assistance with walking, but he definitely got winded from the minimal exertion of walking to the parking lot, and B.B. was not going to take any chances after Elvis fell in the shower last night.

Elvis drifted in and out of sleep during their 4 hour trip to Pasadena. His curiosity knew no bounds, so whenever awake he bombarded B.B. with questions about him, his life and work, and the world he lived in. Elvis learned this was the millennial year, the y2k, the year the world was supposed to end according to some old prophecy. “You’d think God would have mentioned somethin’ about it, huh?” B.B. heard him chuckle. A moment later, his velvety voice sounded again, this time more serious: “Well Gunnie, if this were true, then I’d be happy I’ll spend my last days with you.” B.B. felt his heart skip a beat, he turned to the passenger side and was immediately caught up in that pair of extraordinary sapphire eyes, which were now exuding tenderness and longing. B.B had to tear his eyes away from Elvis’ impassioned gaze and quickly focus back on the road ahead. He tried to lighten things up: “Oh no, meeting you was a blessing, I ain’t gonna let y2k take away my angel. Uh-uh.” Elvis responded with a laugh, “Oh Gunnie, you’re awesome. I feel so much better now.” A spark was felt on B.B.’s skin as a warm and slender hand covered his own which was resting on the center console. He felt warm all over, glanced over again quickly and saw Elvis lean his head against the passenger window, lost in thought.

The traffic was surprisingly reasonable on this Sunday afternoon and they made it to Tina’s clinic just in time. There was no one else in the waiting room as it was typical for business to be light on a weekend like this, even the receptionist had gone home. As the nurse was checking Elvis in and taking his vitals, Tina came out quickly, grabbed B.B. and pulled him into her office. “Hey! That really IS Elvis!!” Tina whispered, looking tense and nervous, “I remember how he looked like in the 50’s in those old movies grandma and I used to watch together.” “What did I tell ya, I ain’t kiddin’ over the phone.” B.B. whispered back. “Think about it, Little Sis, Elvis died in 77, he was reborn in Heaven that same year, that’s why he’s 23 now. It all makes sense!” Tina sat down, hyperventilating a little: “That’s crazy! I thought you were either joking or went out of your mind!” B.B. patted her on the back, “Hey, calm down now. Don’t startle him, he was hurt real bad when he escaped from Hell not long ago. The bastards even cut off his wings. Can ya check on his wounds?” Tina pressed her fingers over her temples and rubbed for a minute, then took a deep breath: “Okay, okay Big Bro, I’ll do it for you this time.”

The history taking and the following physical exam took almost half an hour. B.B. was getting antsy when Tina finally let him into the examination room. Tina told them that most of Elvis’ injuries were flesh wounds and they would heal eventually with basic wound care, even the ones on his wing stumps. He also sustained a fracture in right ankle and most seriously, the arrow wound in the right waist appeared to be mildly infected and Tina suspected that the same arrow might have punctured Elvis’ bottom right lung. Normally this would warrant a visit to the emergency room to get stat imaging and specialist evaluation, however Elvis was adamantly against going to a hospital and understandably so. As a compromise Tina would prescribe oral antibiotics, then have blood draws and X-rays done in her clinic and call them about results tomorrow. Although Tina warned that the last part of the diagnosis and treatment plan consisted of sensitive private information, Elvis insisted B.B. could stay and listen in on this. Tina then stated that Elvis had multiple tears and significant bruising and swelling in the genital, anal and perineal region, so needed to abstain from sex for at least 3 weeks and avoid any strenuous activities. She was also prescribing warm compresses and topical antibiotics and analgesics for the aforementioned areas.

B.B.’s hands tightened into fists. Although the medical assessment was not entirely unexpected, he found it hard to suppress his anger towards the despicable monsters that did this to the sweet angel. He turned to Elvis, putting a hand reassuringly on his arm: “Don’t you worry, I’ll look after ya and you’ll heal in no time.” Elvis looked up at him and then Tina, tears sparkling in his eyes: “Thank you both for the big help, sorry I’m such a mess…” Without hesitation, Tina replied: “Don’t mention it, it’s only right we help you out. Whoever did this to you will rot in Hell for eternity.”

As Elvis was getting blood drawn and X-rays done, Tina grabbed B.B. again and spoke to him in private. “You’ve fallen for the boy, haven’t you?” Tina looked B.B. in the eyes: “I can tell from that look when you were with him, I’ve not seen that look from you since Jimi passed on.” “He is not a boy…” B.B. avoided a direct answer to her sister’s question. “He’s 10 years younger than you, well in human years at least.” Tina countered, “Look, B.B., he is nice and cute, but also gullible and naive. The demons may be on his tail. I just don’t want ya to get hurt.” B.B. patted her on the shoulder: “Alright, Little Sis, thanks for looking out for me. I admit I’m fond of him. A lot. He has nowhere to go and needs me to nurse him back to health. It’s dangerous to be involved with him I know. But life is too short not to follow my heart.” Tina could tell by B.B.’s tone and demeanor that he could not be dissuaded, so she conceded: “Okay if you say so. I want you to be happy. Just promise me to slow down and be careful.”

#elvis presley #angel au #m/m

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djemsostylist · 2 years ago

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Star Wars--It's a Mixed Bag

Star Wars has been a part of my life for about as long as I can remember. In fact, it's safe to say I can't remember a time when I didn't love Star Wars. And Star Wars isn't always the easiest franchise to love--its got its highs, but it also has its lows. There are popular views among fans about "the right order" to watch the movies in, or the best and worst, and I've waffled for a long time on both. But I think I've settled both on a watching order and a ranking that is unlikely to change.

The Watching Order: OT and then Prequels. Simple as that. Watch 4-6, then watch 1-3. It tells the story the way it's meant to be told--no need to go back to go forward.

The Ranking:

A New Hope>Empire Strikes Back>>>>>>>Attack of the Clones>>>Phantom Menace>>Return of the Jedi>>>>Revenge of the Sith.

This ranking will be controversial I realize. But this latest watch through, I decided to do three things:

Watch it as though I didn't have all the knowledge of the EU behind me

Watch it as though I hadn't watched these movies 100 times

Apply the same standards to all the movies.

I think we tend to think of the Prequels as bad and the OT as Good, and I think in general it tends to affect the way in which fans rate the movies. But I think that if we forgive it in the OT then we have to forgive it in the prequels, and if we aren't going to forgive it in the prequels, we can't forgive it in the OT. And so, let us begin.

The Explanation

A New Hope: This movie is about as flawless a movie as you can get. The narrative is tight and well told, with enough background that a viewer would not feel totally lost, but without wasting so much time in exposition that the movie drags. Scenes are snappy and quick, and don't linger overly long, but instead move smoothly from one to the next, drawing you deeper into the story and the characters, and inviting anticipation of what's to come. The characters are introduced quickly and succinctly, and while they certainly aren't overly complex, the story does an excellent job not only of establishing the characters and their motivations, but also of their relationships and connections to each other. We need no more than two lines of dialog and interaction to know that Vader and Leia know each other, have a history, and also hate each other. We need less than 5 minutes to understand Luke's frustration with his small town life, and his uncle's fears that his dreams of more will lead him down the same doomed path as his father. A New Hope isn't complex, but it's the better for it I think. The story and characters are solid, the set pieces are excellent, the editing is sharp, the music and sound design are spot on, the costumes and designs feel both real and believable, and while perhaps the acting and dialog aren't top tier, they are solid and they work. ANH combines all the elements that you want in a first movie of a franchise. It creates a world that you desperately want to know more about.

Empire Strikes Back, then, is an excellent sequel to ANH. It gives us back the characters we love, but a little older, a little wiser, a little more connected. It sets up beautifully the changed state of their relationships, both with each other and with the Alliance, and it does an excellent job of moving plot along while also establishing the changes that have happened and are yet to come. As with ANH, everything from story to sets, to characters, to music is excellent, so much so that even minor quibbles don't really seem to matter (it will forever bug me that they didn't uncuff Han before he went into the carbonite, thereby making his hand position actually make sense but-). You can feel the changes in the characters since last we saw them, but we don't feel like we have lost time. The new characters introduced add to, rather than distract from, the main cast, and as with ANH, it leaves you wanting more.

Return of the Jedi is a terrible movie. It's so terrible in fact, that I rank it below two of the prequels. Mostly because, this isn't really a movie. It's a series of loosely connected stories that are joined hapazardly, and it's also the first time we start to see a lot of what I will call "Georegisms" really settle in. This movie feels like a movie, and not in a good way. Characters move rapidly across space with little respect for travel time, they show up "just in time" and many of the plot pieces are so disjointed they have virtually no impact at all on the greater plot. Jabba's palace is a waste of nearly an hour of screen time, and does little to establish anything beyond "Luke got a cool new outfit and is a Jedi now", and I'd argue that that could have easily been done in a way that actually had a bearing on the story. The rescue itself does nothing for the other characters, and their actions have no impact on the rest of the story. Instead we are forced to endure an endless parade of decreasingly attractive puppets while John Williams has entirely too much time to explore far too many instruments. In a time when I'd like to have seen us establishing Lando's position in the military, Luke's training, or even how Leia has dealt with the fallout of ESB, we instead spend almost an hour doing...nothing really. The briefing around Endor feels much like a superhero round up (oh hey, look what other cool guy is here!) and then we are forced onto Endor, where George gets to fulfill his love of overly long chase sequences and funny little characters in funny little costumes for about, again, an hour too long. Not to mention the majority of Endor is pointless and borderline nonsensical--why do the Ewoks have a human dress they give to Leia--and why is she cool going along with it when they have a life or death mission? What are Page's commandos doing while Luke and co are chilling in the Ewok village--and why couldn't they have defeated the Imperial ground troops instead of a fuzzy band of bears? The space battle is fine I guess, though a bunch of capital ships just sort of moving around is less exciting than you'd think, especially interspersed with shots of a new Admiral we just met and care nothing for. The best part of Jedi is, of course, everything to do with Luke and Vader, which takes up all of 25 minutes and it constantly fighting for screen time against shots of Ewoks exploding AT-STs and various classes of Star Destroyers sliding by each other in space while rebel pilots we don't know scream into the camera. If Jedi has a plot beyond "give everyone else something to do so that Luke can do a thing with Vader" it might have gone somewhere, but as it is, I'd advise watching a Luke/Vader cut and saving yourself a painful two hours. (Seriously, the speeder bike chase is like ten minutes of the same trees over and over again while things explode and we're all forced to wonder if Luke and Leia wore those hideous helmets in anticipation of this ride, or if they were all supposed to wear one and Han said "fuck you".) The stuff with Luke and Vader is excellent, but I don't know if 15 minutes of good is enough to outweigh everything else. Also notably, is that while neither Carrie Fisher or Harrison Ford have ever been what one could call excellent, in this movie their acting becomes a curious mix of catatonic nothingness or forced overacting that renders much of their interactions either empty or downright embarrassing.

This leads us then, to the prequels, and to why I chose to rank 1&2 before 6, and 3 after it.

The Phantom Menace is a boring fucking movie. It just is. The plot is basically "a planet gets invaded so some people leave one planet, go to another planet, pick up a kid, go to another planet, go back to the original planet, and then it's done." The characters are--thin at best. Qui-Gon is excellent, though I think we can give that one to Liam Neeson for delivering each line like it matters and actually being one of the few people in the prequels who is capable of acting. But his character is also decently written, and he brings a necessary gravity to the movie. The other characters are fine I guess, if boring and mostly unremarkable. Obi-Wan spends the movie googling things, Anakin is a precocious kid, Padme is...Natalie Portman doing her best? But nothing happens and the stakes have never been lower, and any chance to do anything interesting or different sort of results in either a wacky hijink, an overly long chase scene, or just outright silliness. We do get the best version of the droid army here, before George decided to George them up, but even the last battle is just...empty. Controversial, I know, but the Maul saber fight is not good. It feels like dance fighting, not sword fighting, and it feels both contrived and silly. I feel like they asked Ray Park to do a few sick aerial cartwheels and added in a few flourishes and then John Williams went ham on the track and they called it a day. It's lacklusted and uninspired and the fight tells me nothing about the participants involved. Which is sort of the whole point of a saber fight, but I digress. Also, this movie is full of missed opportunities, namely ones to show relationships between the characters or characters competency--the fact that Anakin helps win the Naboo space battle bc he tapped a few buttons accidentally is criminally stupid. We know Anakin can fly, we know he can use the Force and has a preternatural gift--why would he spend the whole time being like "oops, what's this button do?" I mean the answer is because George made him 9 when he should have been 12-13 and have been training with Qui-Gon for a year on Naboo during a protracted siege but that is an argument for another day. This movie ranks 4th because while it's boring it's not offensive, and it has, at the least, an overarching plot that doesn't feel like George wasn't quite sure how to fill in the rest of his time when Luke and Vader weren't on screen.

Attack of the Clones gets a lot of hate. In fact, in all my years in the fandom, it gets possibly the most hate of all the prequels, and I think it's largely because of Hayden Christensen and sand. Look, I'm not arguing that he is a bad actor. He and Natalie Portman as two of our leads is a baffling choice that I think only George could truly justify, as both of them lack charm, charisma, and the ability to, well, act. But Hayden does at least try, and I'll give him that much. If we are willing to overlook Harrison Ford, surely we can forgive Hayden for slogging his way through terrible dialog and what I can only imagine is, at best, minimal directing. Where Attack of the Clones shines for me is that it, first and foremost, has an actual plot, with scenes that flow naturally from one to the other, without jumping through a series of clips that connect in a fashion that only vaguely resembles normal linear time. It's a contrived plot, certainly (and I'll write a post soon on the changes the prequels needed to be good), but it's more of a plot than Jedi, and each part does, at the least, have a bearing on what comes after. And sure, the dialog is cringe and the acting is bad, but it's honestly not that bad. There is a germ of something brewing in the Anakin and Padme scenes that works, where you can see what he was going for, even if it didn't come across quite the way he wanted. And while sure, there are the ever present too long chase/fight scenes, AotC at least has good set pieces--the Coruscant chase scene is made watchable by the fact that it's on Coruscant, meaning that it's interesting and exciting with each turn, and not just an endless series of deciduous trees. And while the arena battle again drags on, if we are forgiving Jabba's palace and the Rancor, I'd argue we have to forgive this too. And there are plenty of interesting characters (the Kaminoans, Dexter, the various Jedi we meet for the first time, the rest of the Separatists, Dooku), we get our first big Jedi battle, and of course, we meet our clones. It's certainly not a perfect movie (if I never watch the Yoda/Dooku fight again it would be too soon), and the acting isn't stellar, and the droid factory scene gets longer with each rewatch, but I'll be honest that it keeps my interest a lot more than Jedi ever did.

Revenge of the Sith is last, and it's hard to put into words how truly terrible this movie is without explaining how you could fix it, so I'll keep it simple. This is a movie where Things Happen because the Plot Said So, time ceases to have all meaning, characters are thin sheets of flimsiplast which change shape at whim, there is payoff for no setup, and having Bail Organa be some random dude who gets named dropped once(!) and seen like, twice and then just gets Leia because he happens to be the only other adult in the room over three feet tall is criminal. This movie explains nothing, expects even less, and exists merely because "one day Anakin Skywalker became a Sith Lord and killed all the Jedi here have some Wookies". It's insulting at it's least, and baffling at it's worst, because it wouldn't even really have been hard to tell this story, except that Lucas seems determined to not do that for reasons that I will never fully grasp. It's bad. The final battle with Obi-Wan and Anakin is the best part of the movie only until they go outside (bc then it just turns into spectacle for spectacle's sake), their dialog in the hallway still makes my heart twinge, and I like the beginning space battle. Mostly. The rest exists I guess, but even Matt Stover trying his very hardest couldn't quite make the mess in that movie makes sense.

So there you go. The best and the worst. Star Wars has a hold on my brain which I think will never quite go away. At it's best, it's the very best, but at it's worst, it almost defies belief.

#star wars #a new hope #empire strikes back #return of the jedi #the phantom menace #attack of the clones #revenge of the sith #djem reads star wars #okay i know technically this is me watching #but you know #tags #whatever #anyway i love this stupid franchise fuck me

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alldesignsolutions · 7 months ago

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fmpyear2kb · 7 months ago

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Development post #5

With the end of the project getting dangerously close, it was time to knuckle down and get an MVP (minimum viable product.)

I still did not have the asset for the player's car, which took longer to retrieve due to my partner's technical issues with photoshop at home. Coming back to college meant i was able to get the last of the assets, assisting in an MVP.

For the player model, I chucked the car sprite and Frankie on top of each other for now due to the time left.

When the car was inserted into the viewport, it needed resizing and rotating for reasons I'm not aware of. It took a couple minutes but it was finally the correct size and my partner wanted the camera to be tilted upwards a little bit more to meet the perspective of the car. Here's a look of it ingame:

Next up was to make the car change sprite when the player moved it left or right.

To begin with I created a function that gave the sprite required when the necessary input was pressed with the compare float and set sprites. On the right arrow, the right facing sprite was selected, on the left arrow, the left facing sprite was selected, and the forward used the front facing car asset seen in the screenshots above.

This function was then added onto the custom pawn movement the player had so whenever the pawn went left, the left sprite played etc. After the sprites were sorted, it was time to attempt to get the tire audio working as I had tried this out before but I quickly gave up.

The branch here allows the code to understand if the movement is 0 or not, with no movement being true, no audio would be played and the code would then reset and check again. If movement was true, then a random pitch between the values 0.9 and 1.2 would be selected.

The audio was also put into a timeline so that the audio would decrease, allowing the audio to feel like they loop more seamlessly. The tire audio is then used as the target for a volume multiplier that increases the volume when the player turns to the left or right a lot. Here are the turning sprites:

By the time this was done my teammate had an idea. He wanted to see if I was able to create a sun to use in the background to add even more atmosphere to the desert the player drives through.

I created a new actor called 'SUN' which only consisted of a sphere. Looking back on it now, there is not much reason as to why it is an actor as I've realised it will still work perfectly fine if it was just an object with a custom material.

I then created a custom material for the sun. Luckily I have used glowing materials quite a lot throughout my projects so I was able to do this fairly quickly.

I set the colour to be an orangey yellow, matching the temperature of the level to give it a yellow hue. I then multiplied the colour by 1250 which is the value me and my teammate settled on after experimenting. Here's a screenshot of when the sun was too bright:

This is what the sun looked like after I was done manipulating the glow values. Once this material was complete, I slapped it onto the actor and manipulated its size so that it mimicked the sun at the end of the road.

After putting it in it was a bit surprising to see how well it had turned out. And eventually we were able to see how it was in game.

We were both very pleased with how this turned out and it will stay. It may have been a last minute addition but I can't imagine the game without it now. Here's a gif of when it was too fast:

However, the sun being an actor proved useful in the end. Despite how cool it looked, it was a bit boring for the sun to stay in one place, so I made it slowly move over time. This code here has added the sphere into the scene which is now being rotated on the Y axis at the value of 0.0001. This now means the sun is able to slowly arise as the game progresses. I did experiment with the Y value as if it was too fast then there would be no sun for half of the level, so it was made just slow enough that it would move, but also remain on the screen for the duration of the level.

With a majority of the necessary work done for the MVP, my teammate was asking if I was able to add a couple things that have some priority but aren't necessarily needed. One of these things was enemy variation which mainly involved him drawing the different cars, he believed that we should do this so that the enemies were not the same every time and to add a slight element of surprise to the player.

I started by duplicating the original zombie car actor so that the other two would retain the important code of being able to be destroyed and target the player. Before the assets were sent to me, the cars were different coloured rectangles. I then went into the zombie car spawner actor and created a new array for the actors to go into.

In the original car's code, the spawn actor of class was just set to the default car, so I plugged in the new variable so that there was more than one actor that was capable of spawning.

To ensure randomisation, I attached a random integer in range, allowing me to set two numbers and the float draws a number within the range between these numbers. I was able to recall all of my randomisation work from before which is why I was able to do this so quickly. After the 'GET' node had the information of the zomvariations variable, it was then set as the class of the spawn actor, allowing all three classes to be spawned in.

With the police zombie car, we decided it would be best to include siren sound effects. To make the audio not sound like it was in your head, we used an attenuation so that the sirens got louder the closer the car got to you. I was luckily able to transfer my skills over from the previous project where I did a lot of audio work to achieve this swiftly.

youtube

Here's how our conversation went.

The taxi zombie car does not have any sound effects as we believed there would be too much going on in the level and to prevent overwhelming the player, the taxi is silent.

The sprites had paper 2d texture applied before they were turned into actual sprites to ensure the quality was sublime.

With the enemy cars being able to ram into you from any direction, it didn't make sense for Frankie to be facing forwards when shooting backwards. In the first level of Da'Car, Frankie would change the direction he was facing according to whereabouts the mouse was placed on the screen.

Having done this previously, it seemed a lot easier to gain an understanding of how it was achievable. In the car player pawn there was already a custom event for the mouse lock which was used for previous mouse tracking, we could just use this for the front and back facing sprites.

The mouse lock only sets the x axis which only records the up and down movements of the mouse, so the greater than is able to distinguish the top and bottom half of the screen whilst also getting the world location for specifically the x axis. The select then helps distinguish between whether or not the front or back sprite is displayed, regarding the position of the mouse. Once the mouse passes a certain threshold on screen, it finally sets the correct sprite for the direction the player is shooting.

#Youtube

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2hoothoots · 2 years ago

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next day reblog! as promised, here's a step-by-step progress breakdown for page 4 (since it's the one i had the most wips saved of)

step 0: thumbnails

i always start by making super rough thumbs in my sketchbook to figure out the basic page and panel structure! i don't have the script finalised at this point but i know the basic beats i want the dialogue to hit, and that's what i used to build the panels around. after a bit of experimenting i decided 6 pages was a good length - not too cramped, but also not too long overall. (you can see an early sketch of Vanishing Act's design at the bottom! i should post more art of him at some point...)

step 1: roughs

with the panel structure finalised, i move to the computer and rough out the whole comic in photoshop. i forget the exact dimensions/DPI i used but it ends up at 1987x3056 pixels for the canvas size. still keeping things super loose here - the main thing i'm focusing on is finalising the layout and panel structure, because it's easier to fix that now than it is at a later stage.

step 2: pencils

once i've settled on a layout, i go in and do the neat sketches for each page! this is also the part where i add in the panel gutters and finalise the script/dialogue bubbles - again, making sure the flow works overall, and also saving myself from working on anything in the next step that'll be covered over in the final page. i like to use layer groups for this; all the "art" (sketch, lineart, colours) go in one group, and the elements on top (gutters, text and bubbles, sfx and anything else) go in a second group, so i can easily turn them on and off and keep my layers... at least somewhat organised.

step 3: lineart and flats

went through the whole comic and did the lines and flat colours. not a ton to say here, this is by far my least favourite part of the whole thing - i'm not good at lineart, and the fill tool makes flatting a bit easier but it's still really tedious. optional step 3.5: get burnt out from working on this thing non-stop for like a week and a half and it's not even halfway done and oh, god, what was i thinking, i'm never going to get it done in time for my new job starting

step 4: background roughs

from this point on, i'm working on each page individually, finishing it before moving on to the next. while the characters were flatted and then shaded separately to keep them cohesive, the backgrounds were all painted from scratch, usually in one or two layers each (different panels/panel groups are on different layers to keep things neat). at this stage i'm just putting in really rough sketches of the background - making sure there's a nice flow and composition (bright colours and contrast draw the eye, and i wanted the comic overall to get darker as they go into the whirlpool and then brighter again towards the end) and giving me something to work with when putting in the lighting in the next step.

step 5: character lighting

this was done with a bunch of layers clipped over the flats! i started out with a multiply layer filled with my shadow colour, which i then added a mask to to paint in the shadow shapes. working like this allows me to later go back and tint the shadow layer to give some panels an extra 'glow'. for the later panels, i added a blue soft light layer at around 50% opacity to bring the overall palettes a little closer to the backgrounds (you'll notice above that raz looks very yellow against the blue background without this adjustment, haha). then i airbrush on some extra soft shadows and tints, and finally paint in the highlights and any other effects! here's a breakdown feat. raz bonking his head on the floor

a big thing that i had to re-learn when i was lighting this was that, in a comic, most of the individual panels are gonna be viewed at a pretty small size. sometimes i'd get too in the weeds with working in fine details that, when i zoomed out, got totally lost or otherwise confused the 'read' of the panels. i ended up focusing on big shadow volumes and a lot of edge highlights to help the characters pop out against the backgrounds!

step 6: background rendering and final tweaks

at this point, all that was left to do was to polish the background and then add any final adjustments to the page! a couple of panels have extra effects (like the glowing water in page 6), so this is where i add those in. i don't have any wips for this stage, but here's the final page for comparison!

new comic is done!! this one was a DOOZY and i changed my workflow like six times, but in the end i think it came together really nice! it's, uh, probably the last longer one i'm gonna do for a while, though :P

i'll probably add a little step-by-step in a reblog tomorrow. for now, catch the transcript under the cut!

Vanishing Act, over the intercom: So sorry I can't stay and watch you be devoured by pyro-sharks, but I've got my curtain call to make... and the audience are simply dying to see me. Ciao, agents! Or should I say... CHOW! AHAHAHAHAHA!

(Caught in one of Vanishing Act's villainous death traps, agents Zanotto and Aquato find themselves hanging by a thread in... "LOVE BITES!")

(sfx: Clink, clink)

Lili: Welp. At least now you've got an excuse to miss Franke and Kitty's wedding.

Raz: Oh, my GOD. I can't believe you're still going on about that.

Lili: I don't get why you're being so stubborn about it!

Raz: Because Kitty's a jerk and I hate her.

Lili: That's not true.

Raz: Yes it is! That cruise ship mission we went on, she left me to barf my guts out for like two hours!

Lili: Well maybe you shouldn't have eaten all that shrimp!

Raz: Well MAYBE I didn't know it was POISONED!

(sfx: clink, clink)

Lili: ...c'mon, Raz. That's not the only reason, is it?

Raz: I guess I just... I feel weird about it, y'know? It makes me think about us.

Lili: Wow. Way to make things all about you.

Raz: Oh, c'mon, you know that's not what I meant.

Lili: Well what do you mean?

Raz: It just... sometimes, I...

Raz: Relationships are - complicated, right? I'm happy for them, but it makes me think about our own relationship. And how there are... milestones, and - and certain expectations, and... and marriage is... well, it's...

(He sighs)

Raz: Ow.

(sfx: BONK)

Raz: There's give on my right wrist.

Lili: Can you pass it under?

Raz: One second...

Lili: Alright. Just gotta get my legs free...

Lili: Hey. D'you... want to get married?

Raz: ...no. No, and I feel - terrible about it.

Raz: Because I - because we don't have a traditional relationship. And I don't want to have that with you. I like how we are now. But then I see other people our age getting married, and it makes me worry that... that I'm letting you down, or not doing enough as your boyfriend, and that - that maybe you deserve someone who...

Lili: Raz?

Raz: Yeah?

Lili: I love you.

Raz: I love you too.

Lili: You're being stupid.

Raz: I know.

(sfx: paf)

Lili: ...listen. We should talk about this. But, uh, maybe not in the pyro shark death trap.

Raz: ...huh. Y'know, these are great whites. You can't keep them in a tank. They need the space of open water.

Raz: Which means I'll bet anything that this... leads to the ocean.

Lili: Then let's get a move on. We've got a party to crash.

#i had to write this entire goddamn thing out twice because the first time tumblr ate it #so i hope people appreciate this behind-the-scenes glimpse #i've definitely been bitten by the comic bug and i really want to do more at some point #but... probably shorter ones for now :P #(for context i was working on the roughs on the 19th of march)#(this took a LONG time including like a 2-week burnout break lol)#comics are so time consuming. everyone go tip your local webcomic artist like $20 bucks

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danses-with-dogmeat · 2 years ago

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Assuming they all have the capability of reproducing how many children do you think each romantic companions from all of the games would want

How Many Kids the FO3, FO4, and FONV Companions (+ Extras) Would Want

Ohhh, I've been working on more for the FO4 Pregnancy Reveal prompt lately, so I thought this would be good timing 😁 Also sorry I've been so quiet, I'm doing stuff in the background, but my ADHD has been worse than usual and I cannot seem to focus on any one prompt in particular, so there's about a dozen that are partway done atm 😅

Anyway, I love this! <3 Every single one of these guys deserves a second chance and some much needed happiness in their lives.

Feel free to let me know if there's anyone else you'd like me to add!!

FO4

Cait:

Given her past, the thought of having any children at all absolutely terrifies her. How could she ever be a good mother after what she went through with her own parents? How could she know she won't end up screwin' the kid over the same way they did?

No, if initially asked, she'll say no damn way.

However, if it ever did end up happening, Cait wouldn't want just one. She was so alone as a child herself, her parents estranging her before selling her off like packaged goods, and she'd never want her own kids to go through anything like that. So, if it had to happen, it's two, or nothing at all.

Curie:

The synth's been on her own for the span of a couple human lifetimes, so here's to say, she wants to stay as far from that feeling of loneliness as she possibly can. Once she's settled down a bit, done enough research, and determined that it's safe and possible to do so with her partner, she really would like to have a large family. At first it starts with 2 or 3 little ones, but after the last one (every time) she soon decides she wouldn't mind having another. Perhaps once you reach 4 or 5 she'll decide that's enough, but you won't know until you get there.

Danse:

His answer changes pretty drastically from Pre BB to Post BB, but either way, the weight of the decision to bring new life/lives into the world is not lost on him, and he wants to be sure to do it right. Danse never had a family of his own, not one he can remember, and not even one from before his memories were changed, so this? Being able to even marginally settle down with his partner and have just a meager slice of that domestic bliss that he has craved since literally before he could remember? He would revel in the opportunity, and take all of it so seriously.

Pre-BB: He still does admit that he wants kids, that he's always wanted to have a family of his own, but he feels guilty as hell about it. Not only would it mean turning away from his BOS responsibilities in favor of helping raise them, but then they too would be inducted into the faction. Not that he doesn't want that, he's sure he'd never be more proud than that day that his little ones become squires, but it just frightens him. Danse doesn't do well with loss. So... He might just be able to stomach 2 kids going into the faction he loves. It's enough that they won't be alone and he'll have a proper family, but still meager enough for him to keep a close eye out for their safety.

Post BB: As mentioned, Danse has always loved the idea of a big family, or any family, really, but... Now he doesn't think he deserves it. And what would it even be like? Would the child be human? Is he even fertile enough to help his partner conceive? Could something go wrong with the pregnancy? The worries fill his head until he decides that it would be in everyone's best interests if he never attempted to procreate. If it managed to happen though, and the baby came out healthy, he would almost instantaneously decide that he would like more. Maybe one or two to be exact. Yes, three is a good number. Just so long as he can give them all the attention they each deserve, so that none of them ever have to feel alone, the way he did for so long.

Deacon:

There was a time when it was undoubtedly and unquestionably something he wanted. Like, bad. But now, at his age? With his way of life? Deacon is much less sure about the whole 'happy family' endeavor. Before though... Well, two was the ideal number. Just a nice little nuclear family to go with his bombshell wife and his explosive personality... Yeah, that's what he always said. Maybe, deep down, that's still something he wants...

Gage:

It's a bit surprising, really. Even to himself, but his answer is 1 or 2, maybe even 3 or 4. He's not picky, and he knows it seems odd that an old raider like him even wants a kid at all, much less multiple little bastards, but... Gage doesn't fucking know. His life hasn't seemed to be all that meaningful so far, and he's getting to his later years. The thought of leaving something behind, someone behind to remember him, to carry on this way of life, or even to move on from it, to be something more when he just never could be... It's a kinda comforting thought.

Hancock:

It's not really for him, is it? The whole family life. He'd had that, sure. As a kid he'd had a good setup like that, but it didn't really turn out all that well... and now? What kind of father would he make? A chem addict? A delinquent? A ghoul? Nah.

Unless, something managed to... happen. Then Hancock wouldn't run from that shit. He couldn't. Not anymore.

If it was just one kid, he'd be more like a friend than a dad. A cool dad for sure, but if there were one or two more than that, he'd get the hang of the balance between friend and guardian, so maybe... Maybe 3 would be good. A few changes might have to happen on his end, if that were the case, but he knows the little guys would definitely keep things interesting.

MacCready:

Alright, well, let's think about this mathematically, shall we? He's already got Duncan, which really was enough for him when he was on his own, and now you have Shaun. So... yeah, maybe just one more would be nice, just to tie everything together.

Well... Okay, Mac's a bit of a sucker for little ones, so he'd say only one more after Shaun and Duncan, but when that one starts to grow, he'd definitely ask you for a fourth. That's probably where he'd draw the line though. When the two of you are outnumbered two to one. That's probably enough 😅

Mason:

Oh yeah. He'll have some kids, that's for damn sure. You think he's gonna let a good bloodline like his just fade away into nothin'? No way in hell.

Mason's partner will be lucky to get away after 5 kiddos are born, but he's good to keep going until you threaten his fertility. A bunch of little Masons running around the park, causing trouble and headaches, growing up and becoming badass pack members? That's the fucking dream.

Maxson:

He always assumed he would want a large family, somewhere around 4-6 kids should be more than sufficient to help him carry on the Maxson line, even among the dangers of the Wasteland. Not to mention the fact that the siblings would have one another to share the burden of expectation awarded to those with the surname Maxson. They wouldn't be alone in this. Not like he was. He would be sure of that, at least.

And yet, after the first child is born, Arthur finds himself looking at things much less strategically. He may bring the number a bit lower, if only to ensure he can give his attention to each of his kids. They're not just fodder to carry on a name and secure his bloodline, they're kids. His kids. So he'd try to think less clinically about it all and settle for a more doable number, like 3 or maybe 4. If he feels like he can pay proper attention to more of them, then his thoughts might yet change again, but he will not have his kids being raised the same way he was. No proper parental figures, no guidance beyond thoughts of leadership and strategy... that's not what he wants for them.

Nick:

Nick adores kids, and though he never really saw that in the cards for him, if he did have the opportunity to have children of his own, he would 100% take full advantage of it. 3 would be a perfect number for him, and Nick would dedicate as much to them as he could without completely forgoing the detective business.

He'd be scared out of his mind about outliving them, but he tries to take an optimistic perspective and think of the unique opportunity he would have to know his grandkids and his grandkids' grandkids, and so on.

Piper:

She's pretty set right now with just Nat in her life, but down the road Piper could see herself with a couple of kids of her own. She wouldn't want an only child since she knows how close her and Nat always were, but any more than 2 and they might take away a bit too much from her sister and her career. Her answer might change once the kids are in her life, but initially she thinks 2 is ideal.

Preston:

Oh, he makes it pretty clear early on in the relationship, he wants a small army of children. Like... enough to single-handedly inhabit a settlement. No, but he knows how careful and mindful folks with kids have to be in the dangerous wasteland, and he would work his absolute hardest to be the best, most attentive dad possible to, say, around 6 kids.

It's a lot, he understands, and he won't force anything on you, but it's something he's wanted since he was young, and something he holds onto to keep him going on his worst days. One day, he sincerely hopes to have a big family like he's always dreamed.

Sturges:

Aw, yeah, kids are real nice. Sturges has always had a bit of a soft spot for 'em, especially the troubled teens. He finds that putting a tool in their hand and asking help fixing up some stuff around the settlements helps 'em calm down a bit, to see the good in their own work and see that they can fix almost anything with the right tools and support. So honestly, he would be very interested in the thought of adoption of an older kid if you're game for it.

To have his own kid(s) though? Raise them from scratch? He could do that too. All of it just sounds so nice and domestic for a world that's normally so harsh and unforgiving. Sign him up for 1 or 2 of his own and maybe some more that are adopted and a little older and he'll be happy.

X6-88:

No.

No kids. Babies frighten him, teenagers are awful, at all ages they take time, resources, attention, enrichment. Just no...

Okay but he supposes young Shaun isn't so bad. Maybe you can talk him into one. If you threaten to do it with someone else, that'll push him to commit, and he actually does find himself taking to it once the baby arrives, but he's a little pessimistic about the whole thing for awhile, and he'll never want more than one.

FO3

Butch:

Maybe it's the vault-dweller in him, or maybe he's just a big softie at heart, but Butch really likes the idea of having a family with the one he loves. He may act all cool as a young man, but Butch is a hoe for domesticity (he cuts hair for a living), so 3 or 4 sounds wonderful to him. In a few years down the road, of course. He does want to have a bit of fun before really settling down.

Charon:

The ghoul doesn't really see himself as someone whose cut out for kids. He's not... a family type. So, Charon would rather not complicate things by trying to have any. If it happened, he'd try to cope, but he feels like he'd never be prepared for something like that. After everything he's been through? He's just not soft enough to raise a child. He thinks it wouldn't be fair.

Clover:

At first, she never thought of herself as being a mother. The life she's lived, the people she's known... Most of them should never come anywhere near a child. She didn't think of herself as the exception, but once you and her settle down a bit, she finds herself developing a taste for the domestic, and decides 1 or 2 would actually be really nice.

Cross:

She just simply feels like it's not for her. Cross has been married to the Brotherhood most of her life. Her charges, the squires, the new recruits, they have all been close enough to children and family for her to be satisfied. Not to mention Lone themself, and the way she knew them as a baby, even if it was only brief. No, Cross has had her fill of looking after people all her life, of being completely dedicated to a cause, and she'd like to enjoy her retirement and continue her softer work, not as a soldier, but as a mentor of sorts. That's close enough to parenting for her.

Fawkes:

He's much too nervous to attempt anything of the sort, as he simply couldn't cope with something going wrong due to his negligence. However, Fawkes does indeed dream of a decent sized family. If circumstances were different, he could see himself happily living along his beloved with 4 or 5 kids. It would be a handful, he knows, but he's got love and affection to spare, and each one would get plenty.

Gob:

Oh, Gob has such a soft spot for kids. He'd have to work hard at it, and he'd be nervous as hell, but having two or three lovely kiddos with the one he loves would just be... He couldn't imagine the bliss he would feel.

Jericho:

None, nope, nuh uh. Jericho is way too selfish for that kind of thing. He's too foul-mouthed, too dangerous, too old. No way is he throwing some kid into that mix. He's cruel, but not that cruel.

If it managed to happen somehow, he'd actually be more psyched about it than he thought, but it would be tough for him to change, and he'd mostly rely on his partner to do the brunt of the raising.

FONV

Arcade:

Okay, kids are messy, they're time consuming, they're a liability, they're fragile, they suck all of your resources you've built up for your own survival, and he doesn't want any-- ... Unless you do. If you want one, or maybe two-- two tops-- then he'll consider it, and he'd end up loving it.

Y'know those family members that adamantly say 'no' to a family pet and then once it's there they bond with it the most of anyone? Yeah, it would be quite a bit like that. Kids just do tend to like him too. He's not sure why, but it's always been that way. So maybe it would actually be really nice...

Boone:

He's always wanted kids, always seen it as a stepping stone in his life, one of those vital things he has to do. Especially since Carla, and with her, they both happily agreed on maybe 2 or 3 kids, but after everything... Even the thought of pregnancy terrifies the man.

If the two of you make it through the first kid alright, then he does manage to be less protective and nervous, but he cares so much about the safety of his babies. He doesn't deserve them, doesn't deserve this kind of happiness after all he's done, and he knows that, but maybe he's paid off his debt. He sincerely hopes so, so he can finally settle down and be happy. Like he almost was the first time.

Cass:

Maybe in time she'll change her mind, but for now, it's not something she sees in her future. Cass is too independent, too nomadic, she wouldn't make a great mother, with her gruffness, her drinking, her feisty nature. At least now, it's not in the cards, but in the future? Who knows? She always gets dealt wild decks. She'll just have to wait and see what happens.

Raul:

He comes from a decently big family from before the war, and Raul can't help but want that for himself too. So, 3 or 4 sounds good, but he honestly wouldn’t be opposed to more, even.

The ghoul definitely has a hard time with the thought of outliving them at first, but as they grow and start to have families of their own, he finds he likes playing funny, grumpy grandpa to all his little descendants.

Veronica:

Ohhhh, she likes babies, but she likes her independence as well, and despite everything that's happened with the faction, she is dedicated to the Brotherhood still. Give her a few more years, then she’d be down for 2 or 3. Once she's out of the Brotherhood and they can't stake a claim on her children, she would love to settle just a little bit and have a family with the one she loves.

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