#it’s also part of why I don’t even want to draw much anymore because it’s like wow another drawing of a character that just exists for no

[sirazaroff]

Hey :)! Just asking but how does Glinda hide her scars on the visible parts of her body(like hands or the one on her face). And if anyone ever noticed did Morrible say that Glinda got attacked by the Wicked Witch?(you don’t have to respond with a drawing :), hope you have a good day/night)

Hey there! Thank you for the inquiry, I know yall are waiting on me to say SOMETHING since first posting the two ideas. Such a tease I am~

I will make a disclaimer that my ignorant ass has yet to know what goes down in act 2. I have plans to change that soon enough. Here’s my current take on things but I’ll make an update if they no longer have any merit in the timeline.

And speaking of a timeline, just keep in mind that after she’s struck on the back, the final beats of act 2 start to play out: Glinda going to Kiamo Ko and witnessing Elphaba’s ‘death’. The Wizard leaving and Morrible tries to grab power before Glinda can, and then failing. Glinda takes over as ruler and changes Oz in Elphaba’s vision.

——————

So, why does Glinda cover her scars?

It’s cause of her image as hope to the masses. The Good Witch can’t be appearing all busted up like that, people will ask questions. They’ll be afraid that the Wizard can’t actually help them, or at the least that Glinda can’t. Truthfully she’d rather people believe the truth but between the threat of more punishments from Morrible, and the fact that she’s putting her own public image and safety at risk, it’s better to just hide the scars. No one ever really sees them and so they never question it.

——————

Now let’s talk about how she covers them.

My thought process is that with her hands she would hide those with gloves during the frequency of the beatings. Gauze underneath, hoping they won’t bleed thru while she’s away from the palace. When Morrible eased up on this, Glinda switched over to covering them with makeup since they could finally heal over.

For her lip, Morrible gave her 3 days to figure out how to deal with the fresh wound before throwing her back into the spotlight. The pain of this caused Glinda to resent smiling. This scar would also be hidden with makeup once healed.

Now once she’s struck by lighting, all of this goes out the window. Glinda is quite literally bedridden for a few weeks and her absence is dully felt. Ozians are aware something happened at the palace, but they’re not sure what and who did it. In that instance it was easier to just blame everything on the Witch and rile up the public. (This narrative falls apart after Morrible tries to make for a power grab. Ozians will learn that it was she who hurt Glinda).

When Glinda can finally stand again, she’s in no shape to work. Of course that doesn’t stop the Wizard from having Glinda stand out on her balcony and address the worried masses.

From here on out Glinda doesn’t cover up any of her scars, only her demeanor. Even if she wanted to cover her back, it’s too large and touching the entry point sends a jolt that feels as sharp as when she was first stricken. She’s riddled with constant pain and walks with a limp, but when in public she acts like everything is peachy and is full of smiles. Glinda does this mostly because the people need a leader and if she shows her true ailments, there’s bound to be a threat for power by those taking advantage. Years down the line she’ll eventually retreat within the palace, unable to physically do much anymore but drink in an effort to numb the pain.

[cherryredcheol]

matchy-matchy

tldr: match with me? a/n: i am embarrassed to admit how long it took me to come up with each of these

ot13 x reader

seungcheol: bracelets

except its one of those welded-on bracelets that you can only get off with some kind of tool that can cut through chain. he wanted you both to be reminded every day that your love was strong, unbreakable, permanent. the chain was dainty on both your wrists, barely noticeable, but still ever-present. ever the possessive guy, he liked having his mark on you. and he supposed a bracelet would do for now; until he gave you his last name. 

jeonghan: lego figurines

they’re minifigs and he had them custom-made to look like you, favorite outfits and everything. they’re on a little shelf that’s mounted to the wall. below the shelf are two little hooks, one for your keys and one for his. your keys go underneath your figure and his under his own. these minifigs were a gift for you very early on in the relationship. they’ve moved all over with you and now they’re part of your shared home. 

joshua: luggage

he brings you everywhere with him so it makes sense that your bags all match so you don’t draw suspicion. so what if he was pictured with a suitcase that has a my melody plush keychain on it? he’s man enough to admit he likes my melody, but really he likes you more and it’s easier that everything look the same. he doesn’t even have to think about it when grabbing a bag from the closet for each of you before heading on your next adventure together. 

junhui: ramen bowls

yes, you could hypothetically use this bowl for something other than ramen, but that would make it not special anymore and that just won’t do. it tickles both of you to no end to pull those bowls down from the cabinet and rifle through the silverware drawer for the matching chopsticks, all items printed with a delicate cherry blossom pattern. when the bowls were purchased the intention wasn’t even for them to become the bowls you use but its too late to look back now. 

soonyoung: water bottles

he dances and works out a lot, therefore he drinks a lot of water. he was going through plastic bottles of water like nobody’s business so you convinced him to get a reusable one. so he did, and he got you one to match! yours is black, inconspicuous. his is bright orange. the reasoning? they’re tiger colors, but subtle. why do you kind of agree with him?

wonwoo: phone wallpapers

they’re lowkey and you wouldn’t know they’re matching unless you saw them both side by side and noticed that the street light in both photos looks a little similar…the pictures are always from the walks you two go on in the middle of the night when it can be just you and him without the pressures of his career. some of your best moments together have come from those nights and the pictures are reminders of that. 

jihoon: slippers

the universe factory is cold, always. and yes, you keep an extra cozy blanket and hoodie in there but sometimes your feet get cold and your socks just aren’t enough. he must’ve noticed because there were suddenly two pairs of slippers by the door one day. when you asked about them, he just gestured vaguely and mumbled something about your feet. you’ll take it! they’re also not matching so much as they’re exactly the same. he claims this is for efficiency so he can wear either pair. cool, dude!

seokmin: sneakers

he has a lot of shoes. but his favorite pair are the ones that you bought together. they’re your favorite color and you each have a pair. you wear them together often, so smitten with each other it’s sickening. he always brings these sneakers on tour with him, whether you come too or not. its a win-win for him either way. he gets to match you from a close distance or from across the world. at least he knows he’s yours. 

mingyu: sunglasses

multiple pairs. every pair he buys himself, he also buys one for you. they're his favorite accessory and he looks oh so handsome in them so you never complain. your collection is slowly getting smaller though because he tends to break or lose things (sometimes both) and if it's a pair he really loved, he’ll ask with big puppy eyes if he can have the pair he bought for you. sometimes you tell him no just to see him pout.

minghao: manicures

oh, you’re going to get your nails done? he’s coming with, and paying. they don’t even have to be the same design or anything, they just have to go together. you don’t want a super complicated design like him? okay, cool. just get the same color. you went without him? fine, but what color is on your nails? it has to be the exact same as yours or else it doesn’t count. the colors may look similar but they’re not exactly the same polish? you might as well break up. 

seungkwan: phone cases

the design you chose has a little inside joke meaning to the two of you. no one even bothers asking the meaning behind the joke because they ‘wouldn’t get it’. your phone also has a different pc of him in it weekly (he changes it based on his mood) so your coworkers think you’re a super fan with your matching phone case and pc, obsessed with the idol on your phone. little do they know…

hansol: keychains

you have a miffy one, it's fuzzy.  he has a darth vader one, it’s lego. it kind of just appeared on your keychain one day and when you mentioned it to him he casually explained he put it there the other week. he fished through his pocket to show you his matching (?) keychain. the only explanation he gives? ‘it’s totally us,’ and how could you argue with that?

chan: stuffed animals

they’re dinosaurs, not dragons, thank you very much. and yes, they are therapeutically weighted to ease anxiety when placed on the chest. have a problem with that? i didn’t think so. these things go everywhere with you. if a car ride is longer than an hour, your green dinosaur is guaranteed to be there. he’s flying to tokyo? not without his passport and his little pink friend. show some respect! these are your kids!

[originalwinnerfanfish]

Well, this was a big piece of work, hah

I took a break from RW and decided to draw something nostalgic

Actually I've been stuck with this idea for two years now and I'm glad I finally found the strength to do something about it. Thanks for inspiration from one good man)

Long story short

In this AU autobots and deceptions are two unions of different tribes: mudwings, seawings and sandwings for the firsts and icewings, nightwings, rainwings and Pantala tribes for seconds. Skywings doesn’t exist anymore (because we need someone who takes place of predacons).

People are just people or scavenger if you prefer. And instead of whole cosmos it’s just two mainlands.

- Optimus Prime - I kinda like tfp Optimus. So formidable, powerful and mysterious but really gentle at the same time. And mud/sea combo works here in the best way. As the representation of two main tribes union and strong father/brother figure for team members.

I also think he might be an animus (but don’t use his magic often, especially for killing someone)

- Ultra Magnus - Pure Icewing already will be great for him, but I gave him part of seawing so he could be more like an Optimus. But instead of being softer and warmer, Magnus is more cold and pragmatic version of him. A character who sees other dragons not as close allies and friends but as ordinary soldiers.

- Ratchet - Yeah, the seawing would fit him better, but i just don’t know how to make the colors work here sooo… he’s a weak-fire mudwing. Like a skywing, but mudwing. Why not. Make sense with his lack of guns in origin. I think he’s design can be better, and maybe I’ll remake it.

I love his arc of recognizing people as equals and especially his interactions with Raphael. I think Ratchet often read him scrolls about history and magical artifacts.

- Bulkhead - No surprises here - mudwing fit him perfectly. I think that the Wreckers could been a big and strong mudwing troops, and Bulkhead was a bigwings in such a one. He is lost a lot of his siblings during the war, and therefore tries with all his might to protect the new members of his family. I absolutely adore his relationship with Miko and Jackie, so for me he’s one of the cutest character, and I tried to make his forms round and soft.

- Bumblebee - I know that majority draw him as a hivewing, but in that case the most logical for him will be a night/sandwing. Literally, autobots get their own Sunny)

I think in this version with his lack of a voice he could communicate using sign language or some variation of aquatic.

- Arcee - Also nothing special - she is a seawing. I originally wanted to give her a helmet but it was too hard to draw. Just like Sunny she was born pretty small and now even younger dragons can be bigger than her. I’m pretty sure she is old enough to have seen Bumblebee when he was a dragonet, so she's literally like an older sister to him.

Actually she really gives me a Queen Glory vibes with her sarcasm and dangerous beauty, so rainwing might fit her as well.

- Smokescreen - I used to think he was just a cringe, but now I realize he's a pretty interesting and realistic character. Like Ultra Magnus, I wanted to make him look like Optimus, only this time Smoke is more of a younger and much more irresponsible version of him. I think in this version (being part rainwing) he's trying to mimic Optimus's coloring using same red, blue and pale-gray shades.

- Wheeljack - The scruffy boy! I think in this version he could be Bulkhead's "adopted sibling", so they are really close to each other. And, because he spent most of his life with Bulkhead, it's harder for him to get close to other tribes and dragons.

Painting scales to keep canonical colors is kinda cheating, but for this dude it totally works. He should have a pretty bright appearance with all those scars and bright spots.

Cliffjumper - Ohoh… this poor guy. I didn't even think of putting him here, but I like his smug face too much. Even making his scales darker than the original, it's still too brightly colored for mudwing. He probably jokes about it a lot, saying that his ancestors were skywings.

I really like his dynamic with Arcee, and it's a shame we haven't seen much of their relationship. I think I need to do something cute about that.

[honey-tongued-devil]

↠The last drop tour

| Part 1 | | Part 2 | | Part 3 |

Alright, alright, I know I’ve already shown you the Last Drop, so here we’re looking at the one from the alternate timeline, as seen in Episode 7. The elements and layout don’t change too much, but there are variations, and since my story is set in this universe, I imagine this version is the most helpful for anyone wanting to explore the universe I write about. The link to the story is HERE, but I hope this can also be useful for anyone writing or reading their own work.

Here we are once again! This tour might be a bit challenging, but don’t worry—your guide has got you covered! This time, we need to start outside.

I know we all recognize the exterior of the bar, which hasn’t changed, but I ask you to take a closer look at the streets. They’re clean and bathed in sunlight. (The Last Drop is in the Entresol, the middle level of Zaun’s three depth levels.) While it may seem almost normal or expected, the smog that used to accumulate made it impossible for light to filter through the thick air, even during the day. As a result, the underground city never got to see this much light. This is the first time.

In Heimerdinger’s sequence where he’s seen playing "Spin the Wheel," we can catch glimpses of glass greenhouses protecting plants, and people in wheelchairs, hinting that the city is now more accessible.

This is the third post where I’ve mentioned this damn ceiling, so I went back just to show it to you, because it was necessary at this point. Let’s start with the fact that the Last Drop has been renovated. The fact that Ekko is wearing a gold earring and is so well-dressed suggests that their profits have increased, and the first thing they did was fix up the place. But enough talk—let’s get to the proof. Now that natural light reaches Zaun, the LED lights on the ceiling aren’t needed anymore. What is needed? Glass, to let the light in.

And so, we move on to another small but significant difference. Scattered throughout the Last Drop, but especially at the bar counter, there are terrariums with plants. Claggor and Mylo are even working on plants capable of converting the dense air of the Sump into clean oxygen. But why do plants have such prominence here? In Season 1, we’re shown that in Zaun, only one place had plants: the Chembarons' meeting room. It was so high up and so clean, thanks to the ventilation on the ceiling, that plants were a privilege of the oligarchy, not something for everyone. But here, even ordinary people in Zaun have plants around, and they thrive.

The bar counter remains the same, the barrels behind Vander are still protected by the same glass partitions as always. The difference now is that everything is adorned with what used to be a symbol of luxury.

Did you recognize these booths? Now, instead of the Chembarons' photos, there are sheets with dart game scores written on them—both for the kids and the three older men. To be honest, the one I’m showing you in the photo from Zaun’s original timeline is actually the first booth on the left from the entrance. Meanwhile, the one shown where the kids are sitting is the second booth, a bit closer to both the bar counter and the narrow hallway that leads to the arcade area and the pool table.

Which ones? These. Actually... this photo was taken in front of the first booth, and we can see Powder's drawings hanging there. Basically, we understand that they’re portraits of all of them together, happy. Maybe some are solo portraits, but they’re definitely very different from how things are now. (the comparison)

I imagine that the basement where Vander and his children used to live is now the place where they store alcohol and reserve drinks, or maybe it has become a boiler room. We don’t have photos of the lower area (which, I remind you, can be accessed by taking the door to the right of the bar counter and going down a long staircase) nor of the upper area, which is reached by climbing the stairs to the left. So, I can’t show you more parts of our beloved bar, but I can tell you that according to what we’re told in episode 7, they now offer both live music and events. So, the Last Drop has continued both Vander’s family-oriented, rustic management and Silco’s vision of a nightlife hub and heart of the city.

As for the rest—how we got to this point, what brought the change, how Silco's eye healed, how they managed to reach such an economic development to renovate the bar in that way—I can only speculate. But, I won’t do that here.

The theme of the universe’s development from episode 7, starting with Vi’s death, is what I talk about in my fanfiction. So, I’ll take a moment to advertise myself during this tour and let you know that if, in addition to the objective facts, you'd like to hear my opinion, I address it HERE (Everytime it rains).

From these three tours, I think you've gathered that I’m someone who pays a lot of attention to details, which is why a superficial analysis of the differences wasn't enough for me. I needed a bigger space to narrate (and analyze) the politics and the domino effect of events. So, I don't know, I hope to see you again at the bar.

Sincerely, your guide, provided by...

-Kiramman's chronocare

[eobe]

And here he is – Captain Vaughn 🤩

Captain Rex didn’t feel like being Commander, but this is how we got Captain Vaughn, showing his loyalty and kindness only within moments in the 332nd company for Ahsoka (s7e9), so he's one of the underrated clones which would have deserved more sceentime *sigh* ♥️

We never got to see his face, so there’s so much space for head canons, isn’t it? 🥰 His look in this piece is inspired by this gorgeous look (<-) designed by @lonewolflupe 🫶 

I also want to share some process magic while I was working on Captain Vaughn, so ramble incoming 😁 Take a seat and have a caf ☕️ 

It’s always the eyes when I draw. They just lead the main energy of the character and that influences the face. So I sketched line after line and his face got clearer… with some unforeseen vibes! Since I’m not that fixed to templates anymore, there can be more variation, no matter how much I try to catch the right copy paste clone-face angles... or even colors 🤯 

Have a closer look into unusual clone eyes, oh yes 👀

Lupe and I were chatting about his lighter look with freckles in her artwork (a bit Tech color palette with golden and copper tones) and I told her that I don’t know why, but I feel like some heterochromia in his eyes 😀 So his eyes are like this now – not planned and unforeseen, like it is often when art takes over ✨

I really don’t know what the Kaminoans were doing during the cloning process 😂 but we got some varied clones – for example ‚icy eyes‘ Edge from the Tango company, or the blue eyed drunk one meeting Fives in front of the 79s (I named him ‚Blues‘ hehe 😜).

Without guiding my lines along a template, doing everything out of my mind, sometimes I might get either feeling like crooked fingers or odd sight, but this can be the point where the true art magic begins, because I’m not in charge anymore. I can only shrug and surrender to the flow and I love it 🥰

So I don’t know when it happened, but look at him… 👀 WHY does he look a bit like Echo? AND Rex? And there’s something soft in his eyes what reminds me of Kix, too? And it just fits his calm and loyal character!

For Commander Wolffe for example it could never be this face and it would never happen in the drawing process like that, it wouldn’t fit, but… I’m rambling – I could never point to the lines or the moment where things like this happen. Yeah, they’re all clones and share the same face, but faces do shape after their thoughts, experiences and their lives – more frowning or more smiling 😀

Oh, I love this. Not really being in charge while drawing, but achieving so much more without being under the illusion of the concept of control what is we’re all be taught… holy force I’m really rambling and diving

Sorry not sorry, art is my passion I guess and art is my healing thing, too 🤩 I’m proud of you, if you read all this! Enjoy 🫶 

My personal ALT text mission (1 additional ALT text for a previous artwork with each new art posting!):

Captain Gregor's faces part 1 one of my oldest clone drawings, what an improving process since then, I barely can't believe it 🤩

Taglist: @eclec-tech @bixlasagna @returnofthepineapple @sunshinesdaydream @covert1ntrovert @general-ida-raven @vrycurious @dystopicjumpsuit @chaicilatte @groguandthebadbatch @justanotherdikutsimp @ladylucksrogue

[lawliet-ryuzaki-ryuga]

The Hunt

Shoma Toriashi X reader ( Chapter 3)

word count: 1602 TW: mention of death and stalking. Summary: Life as we know it can change in an instant, and so do feelings and the people you meet.

A/N : Ah I want to say thank you to all of you who have shown me support on the last chapters! I will be creating a tag list, so if you wish to be tagged for up coming chapters let me know!

Masterlist

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

When Yoshino’s grandfather saw me and we locked eyes it was a matter of time before I was called in.

“ Y/N, how are you! Come in, I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” He gives his charming smile.

“ Hello, I’m doing well, how about yourself.” I walk into the room, as Shouma stays behind. 

“ Shouma, could you close the door? I need to speak with her in private.” Renji smiles at Shouma and without further explanation the door is closed.

“ so how have you been feeling? Ever since you know your father’s passing?”

“ I’ve been fine, didn't know the old man enough, but I’m okay.” I answer his question and take the seat right in front of him. 

“ Not like anyone really knew him. So your brother told me you’re ready. Are you sure, listen.. I view you like my daughter. "

“ I’m aware but I’ll be fine.”

“ You won’t have to worry i won’t make you do anything that is too dangerous and if there is any chance where it could, You’ll have someone with you.” He reassures me with his famous smile. 

“ Yes, I know.”

“ Also I’m going to need you to help me on something, do you know who Kirishima Miyama is?” He asks as he leans back into his chair that hes sitting on, folding his arms.

“ No, I don’t.”

“ Perfect, I already know who he is, i’ve met him a couple times before. But I need you to get me what and who he associates with outside of work, and how much of his boss's dirty work does he take care of. I need you to do a little stalking.”  

“Because?” 

“ You’ll find out soon enough.” He smiles and leans back into his seat even more.

“Alright, when do you need this information?” I ask, wondering why on earth this much information is needed on a guy that he already knows. 

“ As soon as you get all my information for me.” He smiles harder where the crinkles by his eyes appear.  

“ Sounds good, anything else that you have for me?” I stand up from my seat preparing for my exit. 

“ No, have a good night.”

With that i bow my head and give my goodbye as well and leave the room. I don’t see Shoma around so i had assumed he had walk away and decided to not walk me anymore. With that put my shoes back on and exit the Somei’s place but at the end of the gate i see a tall slender figure. 

“ I thought you changed your mind on walking me.” I walk up to Shoma and watch as the small glimmer of light from his cigarette lights up as he takes a long draw from it. 

“ I said I would walk you, did i not?”

“ Yes, so let's go, it’s cold.” i begin walk away rubbing my arm up and down in attempts to warm myself. But I soon feel something being thrown over my shoulders. 

“ Shoma it’s really okay, I don’t want you getting sick.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” He looks ahead and keeps walking.

As we walk I glance over every once in a while to make sure he’s really okay, but the cold doesn’t seem to bother him at all. Instead he goes through his pockets and pulls out another cigarette and his lighter. Yoshino and I have attempted to get him to stop, but he doesn’t care. 

“ I got the tattoos 2 months ago, I wanted something small and where I could hide it.” I speak up attempting to break the quiet night that has taken over our walk.

“ Mmm and why did you get it?” Shouma asks not breaking contact with the road in front of him.

“ Because.. I’m now part of the somei group.. Apparently my dad made an agreement with Renji.”

“ Where is he anyways, he hasn’t been around for a while.”

“ He died.” I mumble, not wanting to bring too much attention to the topic.

“ What, what do you mean died? Who’s been with you because i know damn well you’re brother left.”

 "As in he died, don’t tell anyone. Only a handful know, and ive been by myself? Can I not live on my own?” 

“ when did he pass?”

“Last month.. Or maybe 2 months ago, I’m not too sure.” I sigh hoping this conversation will end.

“Y/n.. you’re not actually.. One of those hostesses are you?” Shouma stops in his tracks, that’s when i feel his gaze burn holes into my head. I turn around and give him a small smile. 

“ No.” WHY WOULD HE ACTUALLY THINK I WAS SERIOUS?!!?

“ You’re not lying right, because that’s what a lot of the women who are part of the Som–”

“ No, that's not what i do, I think my job will be getting intel on people so more like stalking.” I cut him off before he can explain his thought process any more.

“Is that what Somei Renji was talking to you about?”

“ yup.. *Sigh*, I’ll have to get to work soon i guess.”

“ What are you trying to find out?”

“ Not sure if i can tell you, so i’ll just assume i can’t.”

“ mmm.” Shoma hums and pushes me forward to keep walking. 

We finally make it to my house and we stop at the entrance of the gate, I begin to remove Shouma’s jacket and hand it back to him. Which he takes back and puts it back on. 

“ Oh i have some of Yoshino’s stuff, since you’re heading back you can give it back to her, you can come in to heat up a bit just while i get her things.” 

Shoma nods in agreement and walks in with me and into my house. I remove my shoes at the entrance and turn on the lights so that it isn’t too dark. 

“ You can wait in the living room if you want, do you want any tea or anything?” I ask as I walk down the hall to reach my room. 

“ I’m fine.”

“Okay i won’t be long, I’ll be right back.” I walk away and head to my room. I changed out of Yoshino’s outfit and into  my own pjs. I grab the other clothing on Yoshino as promised and head downstairs back to Shouma. 

“ I’m back, sorry for the wait.” I apologize as i hand over bag of clothing to him. 

“ No worries, can I smoke?”

“.... sure.”

“ Thanks..... So did they hurt?” He asks after taking a long drag from his cigarette 

“ What hurt?”

“ The tattoos, they are on your back dimples are they not?”

“ uh yes and kinda, never been a fan of needles.” 

“ So was it a man who gave you the tattoo? Kind of an intimate place if you ask me.”  Another cloud of smoke leaves his lips as he speaks.

“ It was actually your tattoo artist, I remembered when we went to watch you get your tattoos and I liked his style.”

“ So you had a man with his face close to your ass and feeling you up.” he scoffs, as he tips his cigarette against the rim of the ash tray. 

“ You’re being dramatic.”

“ Next time you go let me know so I can join you.”

“ Why would I do that?” I question as I watch him get up from his spot and burn out the bud that’s left. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth which releases a “ tsk” sound. 

“ Because I don’t think it’s smart for a girl to be alone with a guy.”

“You’re one to talk, you’re alone in a room with me right now.” i scoff at his thought process, he’s going to act all wise but can’t even practice what he preaches.

“ You’re right, but….” he stops mid sentence and drops the bag in his hand and takes long strides towards me. In reaction I take steps back and I realize I’m cornered. 

“ But you know I would not hurt you Y/N.”

“ Who are you trying to convince, me or you?” I respond back as i fold my arms across my chest. 

“ Depends, do you need me to show you to be able to convince you?” Shouma lifts his right arm and places his hand against the wall next to my head, as if to block or intimidate me. 

“ Yeah, like I would want you to show me anything. You can go show half of the girls in Osaka like you always do.” I push past him and leave him behind. 

To think he thinks he can say those things to me, like I’m one of the girls he sleeps with, ugh the disgust. Shouma has grown his reputation around Osaka, being the man who will sleep with any girl. I cannot even begin to imagine how many women he has slept with in our class alone, oh my gosh… Do people think that since he hangs out with Yoshino and I, that he’s slept with us… 

No way, Yoshino and i don’t even talk to anyone really, so how would they know… wait how would they know what?.. there's nothing going on.. Y/N get a grip, what is wrong with you....

I’m brought back to reality when I feel Shouma’s hair tickle my cheek and his hot breath against my ear.

“ I wouldn’t show them what I would show you, just like how you won’t show anyone those tattoos like you’ve shown me.” He whispers in my ear and walks away to grab the bag of clothing I gave him before. Without much of a good bye he walks out the door with nothing more than a lazy wave.

I'm going to kill him

tag list: @missroro

[doki-doki-imagines]

Power of a hug feat mk1 Johnny Cage, Bi-Han, Kenshi Takahashi author note:as my fave memer said "the wettest and most humid kiss is nothing in comparison to the power of an hug". There are other characters that I have in mind with this prompt so I hope the post will go well lol.

tw: Kenshi part is suggestive.

You are used to being alone, you have been for most of your years, and you are sure Johnny would never describe you as clingy. You give him his space, he gives you yours, nice and comfortable. That’s why when he told you about this expedition that was going to take him a long time and far away, you didn’t budge, just kissed him goodbye and told him to come back in one piece.

Okay, the departure wasn’t so blunt, and maybe there weren’t just kisses and maybe you were sobbing while telling him to be safe because you knew that Johnny wasn’t going out for a movie, but this is the gist of it.

And now you are sitting on Johnny’s armchair, wearing his favorite cover, the one dripping off his perfume, reading, trying to get your mind elsewhere while your heart silently shouts in pain, while your brain screams at it to shut up, because you are strong and even if you haven’t heard him for 2 months you shouldn’t miss him so much, because you are independent and yadda yadda; you miss him so much you’d curl up in a hole and get moldy there.

You sit there, ‘till you recognize a familiar sound, “is that Liu Kang voice?” you think, already standing up. There are other voices outside the house, but soon they all fade when you hear one in particular.

It’s Johnny’s one.

You’d like to stay in, wait for him inside nonchalantly walking towards him to greet your boyfriend as elegantly as you can muster.

Outside is snowing and you are wearing shorts (made of wool, but still shorts) and slippers but your mind simply doesn’t work, heart beating freely, pumping blood with new vigor.

“Johnny!” You open the door, freezing air hitting your body with full force, but you feel nothing.

Your legs run toward your boyfriend before your mind perceives your action. He turns around at your voice, and he is so beautiful your legs almost give up…almost.

“Oh-“ You jump in his arms, knocking him a few steps behind, not noticing all the gifts he had to throw on the ground to take you. You sigh in his arms, his strong arms now enveloping your shivering body “Kitty, are you shivering because you missed me?” He jokingly says,

“Yeah, it’s because I missed you so much.”  Your voice breaks, your arms around his neck, legs gripping his waist as tightly as you can.

His hands slid on your thighs, thumbs drawing hearts on your skin, no goose-bumps, he is so warm and you are so full of love that you can’t feel anything else anymore.

Your foreheads kiss, breaths mingling, smiles stuck on both of your faces, warm brown eyes locked into yours.

His friends are long gone, leaving the two lovebirds alone.

He had to leave you there, in a snowstorm in the hands of the enemies, alone. You always have a plan, they always work out that’s why he trusts you so much even if you are a total dumbass.

“Go Bi-Han, don’t worry for me.” Your voice was trembling, you knew that you couldn’t survive and you also knew that he needed to return home alive.

And he follows your order because you are always right and things always go your way. Even when you are against him. Even when you tease him making his ears flush red. You always come up victorius.

Bi-Han stops on his track, snow falling on his shoulders. He can’t breathe. He hates you.

He’d like to sit there and let snow bury him. He can’t, he is Lin Kuei grandmaster whose willpower never waver, and who is headstrong like nobody else. Bi-Han has seen dear ones die in front of his eyes, betray him, this time mustn’t be any different.

Bi-Han feels like crying. You aren’t a fighter, but he wanted to bring you with him because nobody could outsmart you, and your brain was needed for this mission.

What an idiot. He tightens his fists, eyes closed so tight that wrinkles appear at the corners, no punishment would be enough for his mistake, never enough whips, never enough slaps.

He stays there a few more minutes, he couldn’t go back home, not ‘till he won’t be sure tears wouldn’t spill from his eyes.

Then he hears a voice, more like a whine, but it’s something he has heard many times before. Bi-Han starts to run towards the voice, walking much harder with so much snow.

“Told you-“ You are there, sitting on the snow, trembling like a newborn kitty, eyes shining, and with that shit-eating grin of yours “my plans never fail!” He crouches down towards you, he must be going crazy, his index and middle fingers pinch your cheek.

“Ouch! Why did you do that?” You are there, real, talking to him like you didn’t say goodbye to him a few minutes prior. He sits next to you, onyx eyes wide.

“You are alive” He is able to say, voice hoarse as always, mask reducing the sound to a mere whisper.

“Yeah, I would have never let anyone take my life, they have to get in line you know? Since you were the first one to promise me you were going to-“

Bi-Han doesn’t let you finish the phrase, his arms hugging your torso so close and so strongly against his body that he knocks air out of your lungs.

“I was so worried.” His right hand grips the back of your head, holding it in the nook of his neck. His voice trembles and he feels you stilling in his arms. He can feel your warm breath on his neck, your chest rising up and down at each breath you take; you are alive.

He almost lost you.

You free your head from his grip, thin ice on your hair like a veil made by his unrestrained magic, your hands now slowly removing his mask, showing you his trembling lips, you look at his eyes, he knows they are watery, his vision is foggy. Then your delicate fingers grip the collar of his uniform, your lips pressing for the first time against his.

It is a short moment, Bi-Han closes his eyes, and when he opens them your lips aren’t there anymore, but he still feels something warm; your arms reciprocating the hug.

It is suffocating but at the same time makes him feel alive, a warmth that envelops him entirely, that makes his heart run like a wild horse, but that puts his mind at ease; he is safe, you are too in his arms.

He couldn’t ask for more.

“K-Kenshi-“ You gasp, your hips grinding onto his, his tattoed hands running from your chest to your tummy, never resting, never letting you go.

He missed you. Kenshi missed you terribly. It wasn’t just sex, as good as it is, he missed your voice, your hands in his ones, your gentle lips on his cheeks. He missed hearing you talking about your day, about that terrible co-worker. He missed hearing your laughter and your hands massaging his scalp when he felt particularly stressed.

A moan dies in his throat after a delicious roll of your hips. Yeah, he missed this too.

You are close he can feel it and he is not far behind, but there is still something he desperately needs to do.

He lifts up, sitting now, his arms around your waist, hands on your lower back, both guiding your movements and keeping you close to his chest.

“I missed you so much-“ A whimper leaves his mouth, he can feel your lips so close to his, your breath labored, your body so close creates a delicious friction that just makes his mind fog even more.

“Me too, me too-“ You hug him back, your arms tight against his back, nails scratching his back while he helps you both reach completion.

You keep each other close, breaths still heavy, bodies sweaty.

“I missed you so much.” You are the first one to break the silence, Kenshi notices a hint of sadness.

Hint that became something more when the hand caressing your cheek meets a tear. The pang he feels in his heart hurts so much, but he also knows it is deserved.

“Me too honey, me too.” His right hand massages the back of your head, while the other traces heart-shaped patterns on your back.

Kenshi doesn’t let go, now laying on your shared bed, you on top of him. He can’t see your face, but losing sight made him more sensible, noticing every gasp leaving your lips, every twitch of your muscles.

He restrains himself, he can’t cry, but every gasp that leaves your lips is like a stab in his chest, each tear pulling your body closer, your hearts beating in synchronized sorrow.

But Kenshi can’t tell you that next time it will be different. He can’t reassure you that he will be safe.

He keeps you close to his chest ‘till he feels your breath slowing down, now stable. Kenshi keeps caressing your back, feeling his muscles relax, exhaustion washing over him too.

Kenshi soon falls asleep, wishing to still have you in his arms when he’ll regain consciousness the next morning.

[bitethedevil]

When Gale become a god how can he sent Raphael to hells? Isn’t Raphael supposed to be powerful? Gods are above ?

A Guide to Gods, Devils, and Raphael

To answer the first part of the question: technically we can send him to the Hells too. If you try to damage Mizora, she just goes back to the Hells. If you kill a devil on the Material Plane, they also return to the Hells. When it comes to the relationship between gods and devils, it’s a bit more complicated and some background knowledge is needed. I’ve written a bit about it here.

I’m going to take this as an opportunity to brush up on some things and collect them in one post. Brace yourself, it’s one of the longer ones.

Gods and Devils

It all starts with the Pact Primeval. I’ve copied some of this from my own post above.

In the beginning of everything, there was chaos. Out of that chaos came the demons (who are not devils). Lawful deities began to fight that chaos but eventually they got tired of it because there were seemingly an endless supply of demons. The gods couldn’t be bothered anymore and created angels to this job for them.

One of those angels was Asmodeus, who is still the top dog in the Hells. He was the shit at killing demons. The trouble was that the more the angels fought the demons, the more traits they came to share with them to fight them more efficiently. They turned ugly and twisted too because the demons they fought were so, and that is why they look like they do now.

The gods then saw how their angels had changed, and they were disgusted by it. They did not want those twisted beings living anywhere near them. They tried to banish Asmodeus and the other angels from the Heavens.

Asmodeus was not having any of that. There came a trial and Asmodeus essentially pointed out that “hey, I actually just did what I was made for, and I did it pretty damn well too. We’ve only dirtied our hands so yours can stay clean. If we are to be lawful beings, then this charge isn’t a fair one”. Asmodeus could “wield the law like a knife” and the deities had to admit that what he was saying was right, so they couldn’t do much.

Eventually, the deities had made intelligent beings (humanoids) and to protect these beings, they made barriers between them and the demons. To their horror, the deities saw that some of the intelligent beings they had so carefully tried to protect, insisted on breaking these barriers and letting demons into their world. The gods were confused and exasperated at this and weren’t sure how to stop them.

That is when Asmodeus comes in with a plan: There should be punishments for those who disobey the gods, or else there will continue to be chaos. So, Asmodeus, Mephistopheles and Dispater (who would all eventually become archdevils), along with the other twisted angels went out and punished the wrong doers.

As these tortured and punished people trickled into the Heavens after their death, the deities were once again disgusted and pulled in Asmodeus to answer for this. They did not want those punished mortals in their realm, so Asmodeus came with another solution: basically, creating the Hells. All he wanted in return was to be able to draw power from the souls of those he punishes, since they (the twisted angels) cannot draw power from the gods while being separated from them

The gods all agreed and signed what would be known as the Pact Primeval which held these terms. The gods then freaked out when they found out that what has now become the devils of the Hells encourage people to do wrong so that they end up in the Hells. When confronted with this by the angry gods, Asmodeus simply smiles and answers: Read the fine print.

And tadaa. The Hells are the Hells and devils are devils, and it had been this way since the Pact Primeval.

The gods are stronger than even the Archdevils, but some devils, like Asmodeus, has grasped at godhood and achieved it, which muddies things a bit. Generally though, devils don’t have much on the gods, but due to being tangled up in being Lawful, the gods can’t do much about what goes on in the Hells. Think of the Hells as a sort of republic that still has beef with the country they came from.

The Hells, Hierachy and True Devils

The Hells is a place where there is a strict hierarchical society. You start out as a Lesser Devil, which is usually lemures (creatures who are globs of stinking flesh that barely has a conciousness) and imps. If you’re good at what you do, you can eventually get promoted to being a Greater Devil, and if you are truly the shit and you stab all the right backs to get there, you can become an archdevil one day.

The process for promotion is pretty gross. With True Devils, they have a bunch of sacs inside them that explode and make them into their new form.

The whole point of bowing and scraping to the ones above you is so that you can get promoted. However, if you screw up, you will get demoted instead. Say that you are a Spined Devil, and you get caught sabotaging the Archdevil you work for: they might pull you down a rank or worse, they will demote you back to being a lemure and you have to start all over again.

If you have made a deal with a devil while alive, you will end up in the Hells when you die as a lemure. Everyone starts at the lowest level when they die.

Raphael and Cambions

Raphael is a cambion, which means that he is half mortal and half-devil, and thus he is not a True Devil. Raphael hasn’t died and gone to the Hells. He was never a lemure (though he might become one if his daddy eats him in your playthrough). He started out as a cambion, and a cambion he will continue to be. Cambions, to my understanding, can’t get promoted or demoted, since they haven’t died or started out as lemures.

Cambions are pretty far down in the hierarchy. They only have their cunning and their ambition to get them anywhere in the Hells. Raphael is essentially suffering from Chihuahua Syndrome, where he acts like a much bigger dog than he is, because the truth is that he doesn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things and the other bigger and scarier devils barely give him a second glance (sorry pookie).

He has achieved much for a cambion though, and he uses his charm, cunning, and outside sources to achieve all of that. I suspect that the little trick he does with his ascended form is something that takes a lot of souls to achieve and isn’t truly permanent in any way. He is a cambion so his only true forms are the human one and the devil one (yes, the human one is actually not an illusion per Fifth Edition DnD. That is his form too and really him. I learned this recently).

Raphael’s main strong suit is the fact that him being a cambion means that he can go to the Material Plane and collect souls. Not all devils can leave the Hells like that.

So basically…

The gods are above the Archdevils in strength, the Archdevils above the Greater Devils, and the Greater Devils above the Lesser Devils. I think Raphael fits somewhere between just above the lowest of the Lesser Devils but under Greater Devils. It’s no wonder that he wants the Crown of Karsus. He needs all the help he can get to get where he wants to be.

Just imagine how much it sucks though: your dad is a literal archdevil and because your mother is a mortal, everyone else in your surroundings will treat you only slightly better than a damn lemure. Poor little guy.

(Thank you for the ask <3)

[mandalhoerian]

I love your analysis on Rafayel, I thought there was something wrong with me not understanding his card! If it's not too much to ask, can you break down his final dialogue? I don't get his point. why is he suddenly bringing up love when this has been about art? Isn't he saying that the love he feels is also bringing him pain, isn't this a bad thing😅 Is it just me 😅 I feel crazy... You can ignore this if you want no hard feelings

the said analysis on intertidal zone for people who haven't seen it!

first of all, please don't be hard on yourself for not understanding, you're okay! this was me too. i got you!

"i once stubbornly believed only pain could bring me inspiration. I traveled far and wide in search of it. Pain that inspires me, I mean. Like a sea that's about to dry up. The art of creation is part of my life. You made me realize love and art are so alike. Even if they don't complete me but burn me instead, I still want them with every fiber of my being."

but before i can explain this fully, I want to go take a few steps back and go into what he previously revealed. I swear it makes sense to start from the beginning, trust me. spoiler alert, I've discovered something you guys. (@pasdenomadonner you can put this on reddit too if you'd like!!)

"actually i was here last time for an exhibit and i found myself in the same situation."

this could refer to either his fever, or his lack of inspiration, or both. the next line confirms that he was going through creative block, though -> "as far as i know, this is the longest time my mind's been like a blank sheet of paper."

and mc says, "you mean you can't draw?"

I totally missed this before & thought it was a tangent that came out of nowhere. But what Rafayel did is that, without words, showing her that he was in fact able to fix his inspiration issue the last time. This isn't a random reveal that the ocean and desert painting belonged to him all this time. It says that his trip to here fixed his creative block and the piece he made from the inspiration he got from Aridum made it to the memorial hall. He's saying, "No no, I could draw."

He's come here again for guaranteed inspiration hit. He's basically saying his trip here didn't work this time around and this isn't doing anything for him, despite the tragedy all around him.

Do you know what this means? STAY WITH ME NOW, STAY WITH ME.

because this ties DIRECTLY to him saying "i stubbornly believed only pain could give me inspiration" -- so, if only pain gives him inspiration, why can't he draw now? why is his mind blank? Is he not getting his inspiration from pain anymore? What will he do now, then? THAT'S what he's struggling with.

NOW we can dive into the rest of the final dialogue.

1. “The art of creation is part of my life.”

This line sets the stage. Rafayel isn’t just saying art is important to him, it’s essential. Not a hobby. Art isn’t just a thing he does, it’s who he is.

What he’s really saying here is: “Art is a core part of my identity. Without it, I’m not me.”

2. “You made me realize love and art are so alike.”

Here’s the pivot. It's so confusing at first glance because you expect him to elaborate in "What way?" But I believe Rafayel is setting the stage to make a direct comparison between art--this thing he just declared essential to his life--and love not just by commenting on their similarities but by implying that love (MC) is just as essential as art.

Think about what this means for someone like Rafayel:

Art has always been his way of processing the world, expressing himself, and finding meaning. It’s his lifeline.

By comparing love to art, he’s saying that MC has brought something into his life that feels equally vital, equally irreplaceable.

He’s realizing that MC, like art, isn’t just something that happens to him--it’s something he needs.

3. “Even if they don’t complete me but burn me instead...”

This is where it gets personal and raw. Rafayel doesn’t see art or love as things that “fix” him or make him whole. Instead, he sees them as forces that challenge him, consume him, and demand something from him.

“Burn me instead”: The idea of burning here isn’t necessarily negative, perhaps. It’s could be about intensity and being consuming. Both art and love push Rafayel to his limits, force him to confront himself, and sometimes hurt him in the process. But he’s okay with that. The burn isn’t a deterrent--it’s a part of what makes these things so meaningful to him.

In essence, he’s saying: Even if art and love aren’t easy, even if they don’t make me feel whole or safe, I still want them. I still need them.

4. “I still want them with every fiber of my being.”

This line drives the point home, circling back to how he said they were "alike". Rafayel isn’t just tolerating the burn--he’s choosing it. He wants art and love, not because they’re perfect or painless, but because they’re what give his life meaning. Remember his "Addictive Pain" anectode? I don't think he dislikes this kind of "pain" but MC isn't in a place to understand what he means yet is my takeaway.

YEAH?. YEAH. I'M DOING LAPS IN MY ROOM HE'S SO. HE'S SOOOOOO. AND I'M SO SLOW, I DIDN'T GET ALL OF UNTIL LATER, LIKE HOW THE LAST TIME HE WAS ABLE TO BE INSPIRED BY ARIDUM DURING CREATIVE BLOCK BUT NOT ANYMORE. "Why is he bringing up love all of a sudden. Weren't we just talking about art?" was such a raw connection he was trying to pull and it flew right over my head.

And understanding the burning thing quite literally I imagine, LIKE I WAS DOING, MC is like

he's such a tortured artist

anyway. I hope I was able to help, anon. It's thanks to you I went in and discovered these new things. Why is it always Rafayel. I feel like local tumblrina discovering media literacy for the first time, I swear I'm good at consuming media it's him making things difficult (even though me personally I've made my peace with having a peanut for a brain that runs on brainrot)

[waynes-multiverse]

The Exit Strategy – Part 4

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

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, fluff, some angst & feels, family secrets, spy stuff, a bit of spiciness

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Welcome back, friends! We're diving a bit into Shaw family secrets this week – fully Wayne's version, though. While I did read the books, there's no major spoilers**, so don't you worry. I just played with an idea here 🤓 I also won't be fully diving into the Shaw family life, but some things are heavily hinted to be... fishy here 👀 Enjoy & let me know what you think! 🤍

**There's a small part where Russell tells Colter about their parents. It's mentioned in the books that their mother was a psychiatrist. I took that and ran with it 🤷‍♀️

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 4: This Is Not an Exit

“You’ve been walking down memory lane a lot tonight,” you teased with a nudge of his ribs, still tightly cuddled in his warm embrace in the freezing basement.

“Haven’t you?”

“No, I have,” you admitted with a melancholic sigh. “Maybe we should stop dwelling on the past so much. Think more about the future…”

Russell scoffed a small chuckle. “Dory said something similar not that long ago. Actually the reason why I came here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, his fingers absently drawing circles on your arm. “I think it’s time we retire, sweetheart. I mean, after everything we’ve been through, I think we deserve to, right? You know, sometimes I wake up in the morning, and I’m surprised we’re even still here, considering how many war zones we’ve been in.”

“Well, you know what they say – beware the old soldier because he’s old for a reason,” you said with a smile.

“Yeah, think I might be getting a little too old…” Russell chucked lightly, running a hand through his long hair. “So? What d’you think? One last hurrah, and then we hang this up? I was thinking maybe we could open up a brewery, you know? A family place. Bet the kids would love it.”

“Sounds nice,” you said with a yearning smile. You wanted all of that and more. “I’d love to retire with you.”

“But?”

You laughed slightly at his anticipating look. “But I don’t think you can yet.”

His eyebrows drew together till they met above the bridge of his freckled nose. “What d’you mean? I just told you I’m ready.”

“You say you are, but you aren’t,” you replied like the annoying Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. “Have you solved the murder yet?”

Russell licked his lips, which was his telltale sign that you caught him there. After all, you knew him better than anyone in this world – knowing when he needed to be pushed and shoved was part of it.

“No, but I don’t need to anymore. Look, the only reason I wanted to solve it was because I thought I had to prove my innocence to Colter. And well, turns out I didn’t. He believed me anyways, so…”

“That wasn’t the only reason,” you reminded him with a scrutinizing look.

“Maybe, but like I said – Dory thinks we should keep all this bullshit in the past, and after the last three years, I’m starting to agree with her,” Russell said, dragging a hand over his face.

“Look, if that’s what you want–”

“It’s what I want,” he assured you and placed a hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it. “Having my little brother and sister back is enough. I don’t need more. Nothing good ever comes from being greedy.”

You nodded in understanding, clearing your throat. “Still, in the name of our deal to always be honest, I kinda have to confess something.”

Rising from your seat, you dusted off your awful, flowery skirt and wandered to the wall safe once more, retrieving a thick folder from it. You took your place next to Russell again, his questioning eyes meeting yours as you handed him your research.

“When you didn’t come back after a year or so, I started looking into it as well. Might have done a full deep-dive,” you admitted with a bite of your lip.

Russell shot you a chiding look, shaking his head, but most of all, he was worried. “I told you to leave it alone. You don’t know what sorta people we’re dealing with here, but we do know they’re dangerous.”

“I know. I just wanted to help. Figured I could speed it along. I do have more access than you,” you countered softly. “I’m sorry, okay? But I was careful. I promise.”

“Good,” he said and looked at you, interlacing your fingers with his. “‘Cause the last thing I want is losing you over this bullshit, too.”

Nodding, you squeezed his hand in reassurance. “There’s something you should know, though.” He raised his brow anew – you’d always been full of surprises. Life certainly had never been boring. “Someone accessed the files after me.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Definitely had a higher clearance than me, though,” you replied.

Russell threw his arms up, and you could see he was getting more upset again. “See? This is what I’m talking about! The whole point of us separating was to keep you and the kids away from it. Otherwise, we could’ve just stayed together, and I could’ve joined Horizon anyways.”

“I know that, too,” you said remorsefully. “But don’t worry. I wasn’t followed, and no one ever came after me. I made sure of it. It’s been two years now. They probably figured it was nothing after I didn’t reach out to you straight away.”

“Still… I don’t want you involved, alright?”

“What about Colter? Doesn’t he want to know? He doesn’t strike me as someone who just lets things go,” you noted observantly.

Russell clicked his tongue – a sign of defeat. “He isn’t, but he’s not gonna find anything either. I mean, the only reason I know is because you were so relentless and kept digging.”

“You haven’t told him what we found out?”

Russell licked his lips and admitted quietly, “No. I don’t think it does anyone any good to keep looking into this.”

Leaning forward and hugging your knees, your head bobbed pensively. “I thought you guys talked about what happened?”

“We did. Kinda… It’s complicated,” he stated, swallowing. “Dory was easy, you know? I guess she never really believed it… But it took a while till Colter even picked up the phone, let alone answered a goddamn text message. Had to get a little annoying.”

You smirked. “Well, you’re good at that. That’s how you won me over.”

“By being persistent?”

“Exactly. Like a tardigrade.” You grinned. “I mean, you kind of are doing it now again, too.”

He chuckled quietly. “Yeah, guess so.”

“Is that why you haven’t told him about me and the kids? Because you’re not sure about him yet?”

“Partially, yeah,” he admitted. “I guess I wanted to protect you. And maybe myself a little, too… Not sure I’m ready for those two worlds to meet yet, you know? I mean, you and the kids are the best things that ever happened to me, and when I look at Colter or Dory, I’m sometimes reminded of the worst things in my life.”

“What about your mother?”

Russell let out an exhaustive sigh that was half amused. “Geez, you haven’t changed a bit. You still ask the most uncomfortable questions possible.”

You laughed a little. “Gathering intelligence in uncomfortable ways is kind of my job, Shaw.”

“Yup, and no one’s better at it than you, sweetheart,” Russell quipped.

“So I’m guessing it’s a no on Mommie Dearest?”

Russell licked his lips, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna see her. Mostly because I don’t even know what to fucking say anymore,” he said. “I don’t want her to meet the kids either.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him and took his hand in yours. “It’s your choice, Russ. We go at your pace, alright?”

“Thank you.” Russell brought your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing the back of your hand before he looked at you deeply, a smile dancing across his plump lips. “I love you.”

You mirrored his smile, your heart fluttering like a wild butterfly in your chest. “I love you, too.”

“I’ll tell them – Dory and Colter. I want this to work,” he promised. “Just… after we finish this. I want him to have a clear head. I prefer not to get him killed, you know?”

“I get it. I thought the same thing when I first met you, too,” you joked, patting his chest. “But you brought him into this. It’s kinda on you.”

Russell scratched his bearded chin. “Yeah, but I didn’t exactly know what I’d bring him into.”

“Didn’t you, though?”

Amused, Russell bobbed his head. “Yeah, maybe I did,” he acknowledged. “You know, when Manny called me–”

Your eyes widened. “Manny called you?”

Russell blinked at you, brow creased in confusion. “Yeah, why?”

“That motherfucker…��

Furiously, you stomped to the desk and grabbed the radio. “Drone-5. This is Queen Bee-1. Report to Hive.”

The static of the radio cracked almost instantly, as if the idiot had been waiting all night for this call. “Yo, Queen Bee-1. How’s my boy?” Manny’s laugh echoed through the basement.

Russell’s glowing cheeks reached his eyes when he heard his friend’s voice. He’d known the guy almost as long as Doug.

“You’re the one who fucking told him?!” you yelled into the radio, almost crushing the device in your hand.

“To be fair, I told him not to engage with tango,” Manny sheepishly replied.

“Ha-ha, funny. Fuck you,” you huffed and tossed Russ the walkie-talkie. He caught it with one hand.

His boyish grin widened as he pushed the button. “You know, Drone-5, you could’ve told me you were actually working this thing.”

“Aw, you know I can’t do that. But I guess congrats on crashing another operation. You’re Worker Bee-3 now. Old habits die hard, huh?” Manny chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess…” Russell replied with a lighthearted chuckle, but his teeth tugged pensively at his lips.

“Great to have you back, brother. Hope this works out for you. See you on the other side, man. Oh, and could you move like three feet to the left and turn the washer off? We can barely hear and see you guys, and Drone-2 just ran out to grab popco–”

“No, absolutely not. Out,” you snapped as you grabbed the radio from Russ. He laughed as you put it furiously back on the desk. You knew what you had signed up for, but you still deserved some privacy. Annoyed, you took off your cross necklace – another bug – and settled down beside him again.

“What did he say when he called you?”

“Nothing much, really. Just told me your coordinates and that you like to pick up your mail at three o’clock at the local post office,” Russell replied.

You shook your head, smiling. “Well, he always loved you, so…” You started to chew on your lower lip, the anxiety in your belly returning. For the sake of your mind and heart, you had to make sure Russell was fully back, and this wasn’t just a fluke. “You know, I worry sometimes that if you don’t face this thing with your family, you’ll always feel this way. I mean, after Lewis was born–”

���I know.” Russell nodded, swallowing thickly. He saw the worry shimmering in your eyes, and it cracked his heart a little. “I know I kinda lost it there. Took me by surprise, too. Trust me. Figured I had dealt with all that shit already, you know? But I guess seeing you with him and feeling all that love myself, I just-… I don’t know. I don’t know how she could do it… Ashton was one thing, but she just stood by. And I don’t even know what the hell she was up to while he took us out into those woods…” He shook his head as if to rattle the answer out of his brain. “And then when we found out you were pregnant again… I mean, I’d barely held it together with Lewis. Everything just became a blur. I couldn’t think straight anymore, and I worried all the time I’d be like them…”

“I tried to help,” you said softly.

“I know you did. Guess this was just something I had to figure out on my own,” he replied with a beat shrug.

“How’s your vision now? Still blurry?”

“Clearer than ever.” A smile flickered alive on his lips, green eyes boring into yours as he leaned in and kissed you slowly like he meant every word. Blowing a raspberry, he then turned his attention to the file in his lap. “So, what am I gonna find in there?”

“Honestly, nothing we haven’t already puzzled together,” you replied, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “But I found a couple of names associated with your parents. Thought maybe you could look at them and see if you recognize the person you saw in the woods.”

“I already know where this is going…”

“Russ, please, just–”

Russell interrupted you, placing a soothing palm on your thigh that curbed your enthusiasm. “I’ll think about it, alright?”

Satisfied, you raised two placating hands. “All I was asking…”

“How was the lasagna?”

After four hours in the basement, you and Russell quietly treaded up the stairs a few minutes after midnight, finding Colter in the kitchen, eating leftovers out of the ceramic form in the warm glow of the stove light. Tom, on the other hand, had passed out on the couch, only the blue flickers of the TV and the soft noises of a peaceful nature documentary filling the silence of the dark living room.

“Excellent,” Colter stated, swallowing down a mouthful of lasagna before speaking. “I told Tom he should be a chef in a restaurant or something.”

Russell’s brow knitted in doubt. “Really? Lemme try.”

“You just ate two entire bags of junk. You can’t still be hungry,” you argued with a giggle, shaking your head.

“It’s lasagna,” Russell said simply, grabbed a fork from the drawer, and dove right in.

That man would eat anything. You’d seen him do it, too. He didn’t even go hungry when he was lost in a desert.

“Wow, that is good,” Russell announced his judgement with a full mouth. “Maybe we should hire Tom for the brewery, huh?”

“I’m guessing this means you two talked?” Colter asked with a carefully arched brow.

“Hmm. I don’t know,” Russell mused in jest. “What d’you say, sweetheart? You taking me back?”

You rolled your eyes at his antics. “Guess I have to. God knows returning you is impossible.”

Russell laughed and slung an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He kissed your temple.

But then you noticed Colter’s smile falter, his brows creasing in question. “Is your hair different?”

“Shit!”

Wide-eyed, you bolted back down the creaking stairs to the basement, hearing Russell’s laughter fill the kitchen.

“Was she wearing a wig? And her eyes too, right?” Puzzled, Colter tried to piece it all together. He had already figured by your extensive vocabulary of swear words that you might be a better match for his older brother than he had initially surmised.

“Yup, all fake, man,” Russell confirmed and smirked. “Still think she’s not my type yet?”

“No, I can see it now,” Colter admitted, chuckling. “So, you guys are good?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Russell nodded and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, swallowing.

Colter’s smile widened, filling the older Shaw’s stomach with more guilt. “That’s great. Happy for you, man. Guess that means you’re retiring now, huh?”

Russell scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, we’ll see. Always depends on what the wife decides, you know?”

Yup, he sprinkled that important bit of information into a joke. Then, he watched his little brother take a stumped step back, brow furrowing and unfurrowing and then furrowing again.

“Wha-, wife?”

Russell produced a popping sound with his lips like the noise of a bottle when the cork was pulled. Welp, this bottle was surely open now.

“Yup, got married in Thailand in 2011,” he added another helpful tidbit of information, but Colter’s jaw dislodged all the same.

“Alright, got this all figured out,” you said, sauntering back into the kitchen with a pastel pink towel wrapped around your head and a matching bathrobe. You’d just grabbed them from the dryer, the fluffy material still cozily warm. It was the best option, considering you didn’t want to mess around with your wig as well after popping the lenses back in had already cost you most of your patience. In your little bubble of bliss, you hadn’t instantly noticed the brothers staring at you. But once you did, your brows morphed into a frown. “What’s going on?”

“You two are married?” Colter asked, a pointed finger flicking from Russell to you.

You threw your arms up, looking at your husband. “I was gone for five minutes! What happened to telling him after the operation?”

Russell offered you a sheepish shrug. “Well, this old soldier’s getting weak too, apparently.”

“He said it like a joke…” Colter mumbled, still in the middle of processing this new revelation. His older, estranged-but-now-less-strange brother had a wife. A family. Friends. And he knew none of it. What else was there? Kids?

“Yeah, he does that...” You shot your husband a scolding sideways look. “Should I leave you two alone for this?” you then offered, hoping the answer was a goddamn yes.

“Why would you? You’re family, right?” Colter retorted with a dry smile and a sharp look.

You pursed your lips. While you could see some similarities between the brothers, you took note of one big difference: Russell wasn’t as sarcastic and sharp-tongued. Probably because Russell had always been more concerned with what he should, would, or could share with people in an overthinking loop, while his younger brother seemed obviously free of that burden.

“Don’t take it out on her,” Russell stepped in gently, which really was a warning. “She didn’t know about any of this. Kinda pushed her into it.”

“Seems to be your style,” Colter scoffed.

“Can’t work for the CIA without going through a baptism of fire, little brother,” Russell said simply, giving an unapologetic shrug of his shoulders.

“Why would you not tell me?” Colter stared at him, his look a mix of reproach and agitation.

“Look, you weren’t exactly welcoming during our first meeting,” Russell argued with a bit of bark in his deep voice, although confrontation was probably not the best approach. But why should he always have to take the blame for everything? He’d already done that for more than two decades.

“That was months ago,” Colter countered, scowling. “I’d like to think I’ve come around since then… Coulda told me after we saved Doug.”

Russell let out a small sigh of defeat, rolling his eyes back slightly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “No, yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, man, alright?” he apologized earnestly.

With a questioning brow, you carefully nudged your husband’s arm. “What happened to Doug? Is he alright?”

“Yeah, uh, he went to work for Horizon with me. I’ll tell you later, okay?” Russell replied, his voice a lot quieter as if sharing a secret, and if Horizon was involved he probably was.

“Is Tracy okay?”

“She’s fine. Little shook up. You should probably give her a call. Smooth things out,” Russell told you.

Tracy thought you worked in marketing at some company for the government. Whenever you, Russell, and Doug were stuck on a mission, the boys made you call her to “smooth things out” – aka reassuring her everything was certainly fine with her husband and he wasn't in any danger at all. They’d once made you call her from a Black Hawk. The noise had been fun to explain away – you’d told her you were picking up a client from a helicopter pad.

Colter chewed on the insides of his cheeks. “So she knows Doug, too?”

Russell nodded. “Yeah, me and Doug were mostly Delta, but SAD liked to borrow us from time to time. We ran in her team for quite a while. She was actually the one who recruited me.”

At his little wink your way, you smiled. He’d come along way from the sweet boy you had once teased like a special-forces-trained kindergartner.

“Listen, things were obviously a little complicated between me and her the last few years,” Russell (under)stated. “But I’ve brought you here for a reason, okay? Figured it’s time you meet your sister-in-law.”

Eyes drifting from you to Russell, Colter pursed his lips – a tell he shared with his brother.

“Are you mad? I can’t tell.” Frowning, Russell tilted his head.

“No,” you absentmindedly replied for Colter, who gave you a curious look but steered his attention back to Russell.

“No,” the younger Shaw repeated your assumption. “I mean, not more than I was before, you know?”

Russell’s creases only deepened. “No, I don’t know.”

“He means he’s indifferent about knowing or not knowing we’re married because he’s already pissed about not knowing about my existence in general,” you explained.

“Ah. Your nerd is showing, sweetheart,” Russell teased you with a smile that made your heart melt.

“Dory would like her,” Colter commented like the thought had just popped into his head – something else he didn’t share with his brother.

You’d always wondered about the youngest Shaw of the three. Russell could never tell you much about Dory. His memory had been one of a smart and feisty nine-year-old, not a young woman and physics professor.

Thumbing at you, Russell cocked a brow at his brother. “Is she right, though?”

“Spot on, actually.” Colter’s tongue poked his cheek, his gaze flickering with a hint of astonishment and new-found respect for you. “And I guess I’m not really mad either way. Just… surprising, you know? I should’ve asked. That’s on me.”

Russell seemed more than a little baffled to hear this, considering he had to pause to find an appropriate response. “No, uh, we’re good. I could’ve just told you, anyways.”

“Yeah, no, that’s alright.” Colter swallowed, sending his older brother a smile of forgiveness. “Honestly, I was glad to hear you weren’t alone all this time, so…”

Russell’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he pushed down the lump in his throat. With a nod, he averted his green eyes to the kitchen floor. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

“Aw, aren’t you guys adorable,” you teased.

Colter wanted to retort something dry-witted, but Russell held up a warning finger. “Ah – wait for it… Trust me. She’s not done.”

“You girls need tissues or a tampon, maybe?”

“Oh, Dory would definitely like her,” Colter repeated his earlier statement with an amused grin.

Russell, on the other hand, shot you a pointed look, but that had barely ever stopped you before. “Okay, you can lay down. You don’t have to give him the initiation. No hazing my little brother,” he ordered you sternly, and you stifled a snort. “And no one better kidnaps him tonight and puts a bag over his head, alright? I don’t wanna pick him up beaten and bloody from some warehouse tomorrow morning.”

“Hm, what?” Colter’s brow furrowed. For the first time, you could see slight panic spread in his pupils.

Who was hazing who now?

You rolled your eyes in feigned annoyance. “Fine, we’ll leave him alone,” you acted your capitulation.

The younger Shaw blinked at you. “Thank you?”

“Should we at least tell him about the other thing while we’re at it?” you asked Russell with a suggestive look.

Thoughtfully, he paused for a beat, then clicked his tongue. “No, I got it from here. It’s getting late. We’ve been here long enough,” he decided. “This is less becoming a friendly ‘welcome-to -the-neighborhood’ dinner and more starting to look like an orgy to the neighbors. Especially since you’ve put on the robe.”

“It just came from the dryer. Look, it’s so soft and warm,” you argued, pouting, your palms caressing the fluffy material on your arms.

“Uh-huh.”

The little bob of his Adam’s apple made you grin slyly. The way his jaw ticked and his pupils widened with a primal hunger, you could tell he wanted to tear that robe right off of you. The thought caused a shudder to run down your spine.

“What, uh, other thing do you have to tell me?” Colter asked and smiled expectantly, tapping his fingers on the the counter.

Russell, however, grabbed his arm and dragged his curious little brother toward the exit. “I’ll tell you in the car,” he said and thumbed to the front door behind his shoulder. “Wait outside. Gimme five minutes, alright?”

Wordlessly, Colter nodded without argument, gave you a quick goodbye-wave of his hand, and strolled leisurely back to his car as if he knew exactly what his older brother intended to do.

As expected, Russell impatiently conquered your lips, roughly pressing you against the foyer’s wall, your arms draping around his neck.

“What’s the bedroom situation in this place?” he asked between kisses.

“First floor, west side, third window from the right. I’ll leave it unlatched,” you replied, smiling against his lips. “Tom’s always sleeping on the couch. Part of our cover is going to marriage counseling with Pastor Jeff, which happens to work out great for us.”

You exhaled a shuddered breath when one of his hands wandered past the robe and splayed warm against your ribcage, just underneath your breast. His thumb fought an itch to get closer.

“Wouldn’t do that, baby,” you murmured into his ear with an amused smirk. “That boner’s not gonna go away in five minutes.”

“Mmm, I know,” he groaned and dropped his head between your boobs, lips pressing a chaste kiss to your collarbone. If he continued on with this, your arousal would surely streak down your bare thighs soon. Luckily, he had mercy on the both of you. “I’ll talk to him and then come back, okay?”

You nodded with a smile. He kissed your lips, then your forehead, and then disappeared through the door with the same cometary velocity he had entered your vision.

And all you could do was hope you’d see him one more time in your life.

“So?”

4.3 seconds after Colter killed the engine of his pickup in a spot a block away to the west side of your house – as per Russell’s very specific instruction – he stared scrutinizingly at his older brother.

Impatience was also a family trait – one even their father had despised.

“Look, uhm, there’s no easy way to break the news…”

“Is this about you having two kids?”

When Russell’s eyes met Colter’s, he didn’t recognize any anger, hurt or resentment in them – just pure slyness. At least that was good news. His little brother was just going to be annoying about this whole thing.

“Yeah, remember those five minutes you left me alone in the car? I called Bobby. Had him check some things out for me. Wasn’t easy to find. I’ll give you that…”

As expected, Colter was going to be a smartass about it. He figured it out on his own. He won the game.

“Hmm.” Russell pursed his lips, nodding. “You do know the CIA is on your guy’s ass now, right? Shouldn’t have done it in their perimeter, man. Manny’s probably all over this by now…”

Then his brow knit as if the thought of his old friend had provoked an idea, his head tilting with narrowed eyes at the air vents on the dashboard. How long had that car been parked outside and out of sight again?

Like a game of Operation, Russell then used thumb and pointer finger as his tweezers to retrieve a tiny bug – the spy kind.

“Gotcha,” Russell muttered, smirking. He then held the bug close to the speakers of the radio before turning up the volume to its highest setting – only for a second. He switched the radio off, rolled down the window, and threw the unwanted listening device onto the pavement. “That should teach ‘em a lesson…”

Colter cocked an incredulous brow at his brother. “They bugged my car?”

“Oh, trust me, they bug anything they can get their greedy little hands on,” Russell retorted. “Would probably check for a tracker underneath, too.”

“Great, thanks,” Colter huffed wryly.

“Hey, you wanted in. That’s what they do,” Russell reminded him, shrugging, but there was a smile of amusement on his lips.

Colter only bobbed his head. “So, you and her? You guys are good now? Just like that? Seemed… easy. Sorta…”

Russell chuckled lightly, brushing a hand through his beard. He knew his relationship with you was unconventional, but it had always worked for you and him.

“Me and Y/N have a deal, you know? It’s not all black and white. I mean, we became aware a long time ago that the two of us operate in a lot of gray zones. But, uh, we always know we can rely on each other, you know? Doesn’t matter if we’ve been separated by time or space,” Russell explained to the best of his abilities.

“So what happened?” Colter prompted with the same amount of confusion. “Why did you guys split up? I saw on the birth certificate your daughter was only two years old. I mean, did you-… did you even know?”

Russell inhaled deeply, nodding. “I knew she was pregnant. When she told me back then, I-…” He paused, licking his lips. It wasn’t something he had ever talked about with anyone before – not even you. “Well, shortly after that, I had a breakdown and I-… I almost hurt her.” He choked on the words, fighting the sting in his eyes.

He’d tried so hard to forget, wasn’t even sure he had ever really apologized for it to you because he so badly didn’t want it to exist that he’d tried to wish it out of literal existence, and hence, never really blamed you for leaving like you did. He understood. In fact, he had even wished you’d leave. He had convinced himself you’d be better off without him – something he still believed to be true – but he also knew he wasn’t better off without you.

He’d been lost and alone. And maybe, he was being selfish by crashing back into your life now. Or Dory’s. And Colter’s.

“I mean, nothing ever really bad happened. It’s just-… That night I came scarily close,” Russell confessed, swallowing thickly. He still hated himself for that night and everything that followed. “It’s like a switch flipped, you know? I couldn’t do anything against it… And Lewis saw parts of it, and I was already impatient with him and short with her the weeks before, so I just left that night and disappeared for two months. Volunteered for some mission. Figured it was best for everybody.”

It’s better off if he never comes back…

Russell licked his chapped lips. The next part was the hardest.

“When I got back, she told me she got a job offer in another country, and that she would be taking it and taking Lewis with her. She wanted me to use the time to… I don’t know… solve this, I guess.” He let out a humorless scoff at the painful memory.

Russell hadn’t seen it at first, maybe because he hadn’t wanted to, his anger and pain blurring the truth. After his son had been born, Russell knew you could see him struggling, so you started digging deeper into his family and what really happened. And when you’d found something – Horizon – you’d told him you could infiltrate. Naturally, Russell had passed a hard no – it had been a five-hour long fight, but he'd emerged victoriously by the end. So, you’d told him he should do it, but he didn’t want to leave you, and he didn’t want to endanger and jeopardize his family.

He’d told he was fine, but he wasn’t. It kept gnawing on him – and gnawing and gnawing and gnawing… till you eventually pulled the plug and ended his suffering.

“I was exhausted, so I told her we’d talk about it in the morning. When I woke up, they were gone. Didn’t even notice she’d already packed.”

Colter was silent for a beat. “Was it PTSD or something?”

“Or somethin’,” replied Russell.

“But you’re good now?” Colter checked with a warily raised brow.

“Guess so…”

Truthfully, Russell didn’t know if he was or wasn’t. He’d tried hard to figure out what it was exactly that had set him off that night and fix it, but he didn’t know if that feeling would ever disappear for good. He just knew he had never felt that way again since then. But could he guarantee it would never come back?

He didn’t know.

“Look, all I know is, seeing you and Dory again helped, so…” Russell twitched his shoulders and sighed. He didn’t know what else to say, how to explain it better, but Colter seemed to understand anyway, reading between the lines.

Russell worried he’d be like their father.

“I think I get it.” The younger Shaw nodded and licked his lips. “You know, you’re not crazy like Dad was, Russ. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re crazy in your own way, but I wouldn’t worry about the other stuff.”

“Well, thanks,” Russell said, not convinced but appreciative of the vote of confidence. “Makes at least one of us…”

“I-, uh, I noticed their names,” Colter then said and clarified, “Lewis and Amelia. Like explorers. Like us.”

“Ah.” Russell smacked his lips and brushed it off, “Wasn’t really my idea. I told Y/N that story once. Guess she took a liking to it..”

“Are you, you know, gonna tell Mom?”

Russell was almost surprised by the question. The brothers had barely talked about their mother since they’d reconnected. Considering Colter had never brought her up again after their first meeting, Russell figured there was a reason for that – and he thought he probably knew the reason, too.

Russell scoffed a chuckle and looked at his little brother with an almost incredulous look. “I think you can guess the answer to that one,” he replied and figured it said enough. “Did you tell her I came back?”

Colter pursed his lips, and Russell took it as a sign of admission. So his mother knew. Great…

“Sorta,” Colter admitted hesitantly.

“What d’she say?” Russell almost smiled out of amusement. He already knew the answer, but his brother still seemed reluctant. “C’mon, you can tell me. I’m not gonna be butthurt after twenty years…”

“She told me to ignore you,” Colter finally confessed, but the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. They had ever since his mother said them, but even more so now that he knew his brother – and parts of the truth.

“Hmm,” Russell hummed with tight lips and ground his jaw.

Granted, the confession stung more than Russell would ever be willing to admit. The tiny, naive part inside of him had constructed a hopeless fantasy of his mother having a sudden change of heart over the last two decades and happily welcoming her firstborn back. Apparently, not a thing had changed, though, and he cursed himself for feeling disheartened.

“But I actually haven’t talked to her in a while now,” Colter added with a small shrug, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Huh, really?”

“Yeah, uh, and when I did, I didn’t exactly tell her I didn’t take her advice, you know? So…”

“Why not?” Russell’s brow furrowed a little more as he analyzed each word, simultaneously realizing why he had been so reluctant to share his life with Colter before – his subconscious had been afraid his alienated little brother would report back to the mothership.

Colter’s lips pursed. “Because I disagree.”

“Ah.”

Colter chewed on his lower lip. “Look, I know you and Dory wanna keep all of this in the past and play family – and trust me, I want that too,” he assured, but his heart was beating fast in his chest. “But I need to know, man. I need to know why she lied about this for twenty years and, you know, did all of this,” he insisted, and yet, Russell could tell he wasn’t done. He might have broken the dam. “She did it to you. I mean, aren’t you mad?”

“Of course I’m mad,” the older Shaw admitted, but there was no fire behind his words.

“Then why are you so calm?”

Amused, Russell chuckled, shrugging. “Probably ‘cause I’ve been dealing with this a lot longer than you, little brother.”

“So, what are we gonna do now?”

“We ain’t gonna do anything,” Russell clarified, his voice stern. He’d die to protect his family, you and the kids, and do anything in his power to keep you out of it, but Colter was a grown-up – a free agent. If he didn’t want to listen, Russell couldn’t force him. “Look, you wanna find out, you go find out. And if you do find something and need help, you call. But I can’t be involved in this,” he explained, his firm expression morphing into something more vulnerable and sincere. “And frankly, I don’t care that much. You, me, Dory, Y/N, the kids – that’s all that matters, trust me. You’re not gonna feel better or more… whole after finding those answers.”

“How do you know? Do you know what really happened?” Colter instantly asked, and Russell knew in that moment, it’d be hopeless. His brother wouldn’t stop till he found it – forever restless.

“No, I told you. I don’t,” Russell repeated, and while he didn’t know everything, he omitted that he knew something.

“What about Y/N?”

Russell froze at the bare mention of your name, his protective instincts kicking in. “Leave her out of this,” he all but snarled.

But Colter didn’t think about stopping. “Did you ever ask her? I mean, she’s CIA. She could probably find out something, right?”

“Yeah, I asked her once, alright? Was a long time ago,” Russell admitted, sighing. The intended lie would stick better if there was some truth to it – you had taught him that.

“C’mon, Russ… And?” Colter impatiently threw his arms up, brow raising higher and higher as he waited for an answer.

“She never found anything,” Russell said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

This time, it wasn’t just an omission. It was a blatant lie.

“I think whatever Dad was involved in – or both of ‘em – was just some activist shit. I don’t think the government cares.” Lie. “We both know he had a mental thing. Paranoid, probably schizophrenic… I mean, Mom used to pump him full of meds sometimes when he got too out of hand.” Truth. He then stole a glance at his little brother and saw the confusion shimmering on his face. Russell scoffed. “You didn’t know that, did you?”

Quietly, Colter shook his head.

“Well, you were a kid,” Russell said and hoped it would curb the blow slightly, although he knew better than that. “He always took something as far back as I can remember. She used to prepare his pills every evening after you and Dory went to bed. But when we moved to the cabin, he started refusing to take them. Said they made him ‘not clear-headed enough.’ Kinda ironic,” he shared and snorted. “When it got too bad, though, she’d still crush ‘em into his food.”

Colter took everything in with a nod but didn’t say anything more.

“You good over there?” Russell checked after a full minute had passed.

“Yeah,” Colter said and even tried to form a reassuring smile before the attempt failed. Instead, he swallowed. “Just a lot, you know? I didn’t know. I mean, I had some idea, but not-… not that.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Russell said, his voice almost a whisper in the silence of the night. “Like I said, you were a kid…”

When Russell finally left the car to sneak back to you, his shoulders felt a little lighter and his heart a little calmer. He might just float through that unlatched window tonight.

The bad news was, though, he might not be able to retire just yet.

Part 5: This Is a Start

Honestly, I should've called this chapter "Heart-to-Heart Part II" 😂 I'll see you for the finale next week, but as you know, it's not the end for them – only just the beginning 😉

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[misactrl]

eyes, nose, lips

⭒˚｡♫ now playing: eyes, nose, lips - taeyang.

𖡼⭒˚｡pairing: toxic!toji x fem!reader

⭒˚｡𓍯𓂃content: angst, no comfort, i apologize toji lovers.. (me) psa! english isn´t my first language soz for grammar mistakes x

⋆⭒˚｡ don´t be sorry, that makes me more pitiful.

"i’m sorry.." the silence is loud. you don’t dare to meet his eyes, so you look down at your feet. he should know why you want to leave, he’s been nothing but a horrible boyfriend.. no, person.

⋆⭒˚｡ with your pretty red lips, please hurry, kill me and go, i'm alright.

he looks at you with nothing but guilt, knowing it’s all too late. you’re getting impatient, biting your lower lip, tasting the raspberry chapstick. your eyes now meet his green ones, and you immediately regret it, feeling tears blurring your vision. you still love him, how foolishly. he has nothing to give to you, how could he when the only thing he’s ever done is take. toji stares at your red lips, then meets your eyes again. "it’s alright."

⋆⭒˚｡ look at me one last time, smile like nothing’s wrong.

his words bring you back to reality, the last bit of hope gone with the november wind. it’s humorous really, and you smile to yourself, remembering how you two first met. you bumped into toji while running late to work, accidentally making him drop his shoulder bag. you were apologizing over and over again but toji reassured you: "it’s alright."

⋆⭒˚｡ so when i miss you i can remember, so i can draw your face in my mind.

he remembers that smile, the one on your face right now. it thanked him while telling him: "it was nice meeting you." before you scurried away down the street. you were beautiful, it was only thing on his mind that day. even in this moment, you were still as beautiful as on that morning.

⋆⭒˚｡ my selfishness that couldn’t let you go, turned into an obsession that imprisoned you.

he was stuck to you like a parasite. he couldn’t bear the thought of any other man looking your way for even one second, his obsession with keeping you hidden suffocated and trapped you. you weren’t allowed to see your friends during evenings, and male friends were completely off limits. what had you gotten yourself into? echoed in your head at night. but you loved him, and he loved you. it was all an act of love.

⋆⭒˚｡were you hurt because of me? you sit silently.

it remains quiet around you two, other customers voices getting drowned out by the silence. you’re crying now, a tear rolls down your cheek, and another, and another. toji hated seeing you like this, hurt because of him, yet he kept hurting you. he knew it himself too, but it was just how he was.. not meant to love or care for anyone. those were things he stopped believing in ever since his late wife’s passing, then he met you on that gloomy thursday. he really really liked you, even though he felt guilty about her. all this thinking made him realize how much he’d taken you for granted. "yn, don’t do this.." desperation hit him hard all of a sudden, but he was far too late. you’d gotten up from your chair already, exiting the cafe doors.

⋆⭒˚｡ why am i a fool? why can't i forget you?

he felt so stupid. you were perfect, everything he could’ve asked for. why was he realizing all of this now? why now all alone in his apartment, days after your breakup? the beds emptiness pained him, but your small trinkets you left behind and even those white ankle socks that were left in his laundry basket hurt even more. he couldn’t bear your absence anymore, he felt too guilty. toji gathered the small things in a tote bag you also left behind and brought it to your building. a part of him felt like it was a given to return your things, but a part also hoped you’d wanna give him one last chance. a lady who was leaving let him in through the gate and he walked up two staircases to your door. he knocked once.. no response. he knocked twice.. and nothing again. toji was all too late, you're already gone. ⋆⭒˚｡

-‘๑’- my first time writing, stay safe luvs x

[kpthoughts]

<Sam’s little sister>

-Colby Brock-

—————————————————————————

Before dating:

Sam hated the idea of his best friend dating his little sister

That’s why Colby held his feelings off for so long because he didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable

But soon the feelings were too strong to ignore

You got closer very easily might I add

Everyone had a hunch you liked each other, the mainly knew he liked you.

Especially fans

He seemed very protective of you in videos, more than everyone else

In haunted videos he would always check up on you, make sure you’re not going in first or in any danger

You like the thrill though and he knows this but he can’t help himself

Fans picked up on all this and started to ship you

As much as you denied it you both knew it was true

You always seemed to gravitate towards each other even when you’re in a big group/crowd

For example you would sit beside each other, walk side by side, talk to each other more, find ways to be alone

This is what led you to dating

When at a party you both hid away in the bedroom

One conversation led to a deep conversation and he kissed you

You were shocked but didn’t fight it

Sam finding out:

You both hid this from your friends to avoid drama between everyone

They soon picked up on it though

Sam being the first to ask Colby about it.

He asked if anything was going on between you and Colby and because Colby didn’t want to lie anymore he admitted you were dating for the past month

Sam was rightfully upset

Not because you were dating but because you hid it from him

He came around though and was your biggest shipper

Dating Colby would include:

He always has his hands on you in some way

Not sexually though

He would hold your hand, your thigh, have his arm around your waist etc

Filming together

Sam teased you two SO MUCH

He’ll come in while you’re in his apartment or room and just tell something stupid before leaving

Colby finds it funnier than you do

“It’s a little funny!”

“No I hate him!”

He’s very protective of you and will constantly make sure you’re ok and safe

Especially in videos when you’re exploring or ghost hunting

You’re usually the little spoon but if he’s had a bad day it switches

His fans love you and are also protective of you when it comes to haters

He loves seeing you in his clothes

Hoodies, t-shirts, rings whatever

You steal his rings a lot

He knows you do and gave up asking you if it was you who took them because he already knows

Adventures when you want to get out somewhere

You’ll just drive until you find somewhere interesting to look around like a forest, cave or abandoned building

Checks up on you daily and knows when something is wrong

He’s not overly jealous but can get a little annoyed when a guy shows you a lot of attention

You don’t give the attention back though

Instead you go to Colby and kiss him in front of the guy

He loves it when you do this

When you kiss he always has his hands on your waist or back

He knows what spots to put his hands every time

During makeouts he’ll put you on his lap and hold your hips down

He’ll leave hickeys in less obvious spots because of videos and you two not wanting to share that part of your life

Your friends always see them though and you don’t hear the end of it

Forehead kisses all the time

When cuddling he loves to play with your hair and loves it when you play with his

He tried to braid your hair once but it didn’t end well

You paint his nails a lot and he loves it

When you’re bored you’ll draw on his arms or colour in his tattoos with felt tips

He just lets you do it while he scrolls through his phone

Stargazing is something you love to do as you know so much about Stars

He sits there and listens to you talk about it and he loves it

—————————————————————————

Master/Request Page

[solarsturniolo]

ik you've been critical of the triplets before (breath of fresh fucking air tbh)

wanted to know what you thought about the whole mallory situation? she made a tiktok saying she was concerned about their physically aggressive behavior and how she didn't think it was right that they would act like that, and they responded to her tiktok in a friday video. idk i certainly have thoughts but i wanna hear yours if you're ok with sharing them

Oh i was waiting for this one.

To start, THIS IS NOT A HATE POST. But it is something that needs to be said. I’d also like to clarify that i’m not trying to ‘clock’ anyone in this post. This is not meant to spiral out into another episode from them or their fans, but if they aren’t going to be good role models for young impressionable children, I will.

First and foremost, absolutely nothing about the way matt reacted in that video was okay. He is 21 years old, he is a grown adult that pays bills and taxes. He should not be laying his hands on anyone in an aggressive matter, even if they are just brothers. Whether you agree or not, that was abuse. Here is the Oxford dictionary definition of the word abuse, for those of you who need clarification.

Now of course, including content like that in a video is an option. And it was an option that they decided to take. Nick DID NOT have to leave that in the video, and if he hadn’t it wouldn’t have caused so many issues. What gets me the most is that some part of him KNEW it was too much because he edited half of that moment OUT of the video. We saw the extended clip through their photodump that shows just how obnoxiously aggressive Matt’s tantrum was. Not only did he hit Nick (quite hard and in a very vulnerable spot), but he also took a gift that Nick had gotten (gag gift or not, it doesn’t matter) he threw it onto the ground and told him to go and pick it up. The average person knows better than to behave that way, and it was very alarming to see that behavior from someone that we all look up to.

This led to a large divide in the fandom. Some people were (understandably) very uncomfortable with Matt’s behavior. And some people defended it with their lives. Now i’m not saying me and my sisters never fought, but we don’t lay our hands on each other. Idk maybe im out of touch with some new-found sibling abuse agreement or something, but we don’t hit each other. We argue, we get mad at each other, we fight and we make up.

Personally, i don’t think there’s anything wrong with calling out your idols when they do something wrong. At the end of the day, we’re all human and we all make mistakes. It’s easy to forget that when you let fame and money get to your head, making you feel invincible because you know your bandwagon of 13 year olds are going to be at your every beck and call. It’s our job as supporters to remind them that mistakes are okay, but accountability still needs to be taken for actions like that.

When you are in a position where you pay your bills by posting your private life on the internet, you cannot get angry that people are going to have comments and opinions about the stuff that you post on the internet…Nick made a comment in yesterdays video about how people need to mind their own business, but…you…willingly posted…that clip to the internet. For millions of people to see. Nick did not have a gun to his head while editing that video, he did not need to include it but it was a decision that he made.

One reason why i don’t watch them anymore is because they refuse to take accountability for anything that they do. They have also been drawing this out much longer than they needed to. The fanbase would’ve talked about it for a week and forgotten about it with the next friday video. The only reason why it’s still getting attention is because they so badly want to seem ‘unbothered’ by it but they keep bringing it up in everything they do. Matt’s instagram story, his comment on Nick’s recent post, their recent tiktok…literally anything that they have posted in the past week and a half, Matt and Nick just CANNOT HELP THEMSELVES from making a snarky comment. It’s a very icky trait to have imo but i’ll keep my mouth shut on that (since it’s illegal to have opinions in this fandom.)

Personally, I think Mallory was valid in her opinion and responses. Maybe terrifying was a strong word to use, which she has addressed, but it’s not like the boys don’t use hyperboles ALL THE TIME. And nothing about her video was her trying to “cancel the triplets”, she was simply sharing her concerns with Matt’s behavior.

The fanbase LOVESSSS to jump to conclusions. Most of us that had an issue with Matt’s behavior were not trying to cancel them. We’re frustrated because they’re grown adults who refuse to take any constructive criticism or accountability. I’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, the boys dislike ANYONE who is NOT AN ENABLER. Especially Nick. They LOVE an enabler that doesn’t call them out on their crappy behavior.

Back to yesterday’s video, I was VERY unimpressed with their responses. Snarky comment after snarky comment, only proving more and more that they aren’t unbothered by the situation because they’re trying so hard to prove a point. Why not stay silent like you do with everything else? Your ‘friend’ (who you still communicate with but won’t publicly hang out with) who was cancelled for contacting minors? Didn’t have much to say about that did you? But the second something makes them look bad, they jump the gun and go right into defense mode. It’s so funny to me because people would respect them so much more if they just took some accountability, reflected on their actions, and made a change to their behavior.

Including her tiktok in their video was yet another choice they made, and it was a very immature one. You cannot tell me they didn’t think about the outcome of this situation. Singling out ONE PERSON’S VIDEO, putting a target on their back, and opening the gates for these 13-15 year old hellspawn brainwashed sturniolo cult fans to go and cyberbully someone for having an opinion (and a respectful one at that.)

Also trying to blame Chris and saying Matt was ‘provoked’ into hitting Nick???? Chris made a simple comment??? And this is NOT the first time Matt has gone overboard in a reaction he’s had to one of his brothers. He’s had many outbursts, all of which ARE concerning. Throwing things aggressively, hitting, punching, cussing your brothers out on camera…it’s fucking humiliating???? I am so sorry to break it to you all but nothing about that interaction was Chris’s fault AT ALL. So for Nick to pin it on his younger brother, i found it absolutely ridiculous.

And, to sum it up, Nick did not ‘clock her’. I’m sorry but his responses when people call him out always remind me of a middle schooler. He refuses to take any accountability. HE edited the video. HE kept the clip in. HE posted the full clip on their instagram. NICK STURNIOLO DID THAT. HE DID NOT HAVE TO DO THAT.

Can’t wait for reacting to hate comments part 2!!! Because, let’s face it! This isn’t hate, it’s the truth. I’m not an enabler and apparently that makes me a hater.

And yes, they over-do the drama for our entertainment, but they’re so much more entertaining when they’re all getting along?! Even if they have an argument, it’s far more entertaining when they aren’t hitting and kicking and punching. I genuinely think their emphasis on the physical aspects of their videos came straight from the tea party video, because it’s just gotten worse and worse since then.

I haven’t watched them in months and decided to watch that video and it was a clear reminder as to why i don’t watch them anymore. This is not a hate post, i will always be grateful for their videos because they’ve gotten me through some of the darkest moments of my life. From abusive relationships, to losing a loved one to suicide, to the loss of a childhood pet, to losing my job, to trying to take my own life…I am beyond grateful for their videos and I always will be. That being said, i think they have some serious maturing and reflecting to do if they want to continue to grow at the speed they were growing at a year or two ago.

Yes i think Matt is a sweet guy. No i don’t think he meant anything serious by hitting nick. The point is that it does make some of us uncomfortable to see that behavior from a grown man because so many of us have experienced abuse. I’m not saying we’re weak or snowflakes for our responses either. Posting your outbursts on the internet for 6-7 million people to see is a choice, and you cannot expect it to come without consequences.

[tgmsunmontue]

To wake, perchance to dream 6/6

Hangster - Jake wakes up ~13 years in the future and thinks he has amnesia. Instead it's a glimpse of what his life could be. When he wakes up right before being called back to Top Gun for the special detachment he's going to try his damndest to make that future come true...

Edited to add: One of the first piece of TGM I saw was this amazing piece by @beezelarts as well as this follow on one (both of which I have printed and up on my wall). They both deserve ALL THE LOVE. I stared at them both a lot while drawing this last chapter.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

                “Why do you put up with me?”

                “Well that’s a stupid question.”

                “Jake. I’m serious.”

                “So am I. Why do you put up with me? When I’m angry and I say hurtful things or piss you off… Why do you put up with me?”

                “Because I love you.”

                Jake looks at him and tries to convey just how much of an idiot he thinks Bradley is being. He remembers future Bradley, how alarmed he’d been at Jake having to deal with all his shit. He wonders if getting those two days of his future were offered as an incentive to not give up. Wonders what he did to deserve it. Or whether it’s somehow Bradley that deserves him.

                “Do you think I love you any less than you love me?”

                “It’s not a competition.”

                “Good thing, because if it was I’d win. I put up with you because I love you. All of you,” Jake says, flicking him on the forehead to drive his point home, and it makes him feel more settled as well when Bradley startles at the sharp pain but then laughs, captures his hand and kisses over the knuckles.

                “Oh.”

                “Oh he says. Oh. Did you think I was lying all those times I said it?”

                “No. No. I just…”

                “You thought I only loved certain parts of you?”

                Bradley shrugs, unable to meet his eyes and Jake shakes his head. They’ve come a fucking long way in sixteen months however he expects they’ve still got a chunk of work ahead of them. However Bradley is working with him now, rather than against him or trying to break up, so it’s so much better. It helps that Bradley is back in the air, flying again and while Jake is proud of him he’s also waiting for the day when Bradley decides he’s had enough. Knows it has to be soon if the rough timeline he sketched out is accurate.

                “I’m… I’m going to make myself some tea. You want any?”

                “Of course…”

                Tea making is almost a ritual now between them, and he’s always dropped everything when Bradley has said he’s making tea. It’s for moments of quiet, but also deep conversation, reassurance and also the simple act of making it now grounds Jake in a way nothing else does. He knows it’s similar for Bradley, that if he wants to talk something out, he’ll make an entire pot of tea. Jake watches as he reaches for the stupid pot that is painted like a rooster and wonders if this is the moment. Watches Bradley turn over the little three-minute timer he’d bought and watches him watch the sand fall through the hourglass silently. He knows from experience to not interrupt the silence now. Bradley is gathering and organizing his thoughts.

                “I… I think I’m going to retire.”

                And there it is. All of the sand hasn’t even fallen through.

                Another piece falling into place.

                “Okay.”

                “Okay? Just okay?”

                “You want me to talk you out of it?”

                “I… no? I… fuck. I don’t know. I don’t know. What am I going to do if I’m not flying planes anymore?”

                Jake knows exactly what he’s going to do, but he can’t, won’t, just blurt it out. He wants Bradley to figure it out for himself. Reaches a hand across the counter and wiggles his fingers and waits impatiently for Bradley to hold his hand. Grips it tight and jiggles it to give his next words more weight.

                “How about, how about you find a dream you actually want huh, rather than chasing what you think someone else would want for you? You have time…”

                “Yeah. I guess.” Jake hums. “I think I’ll talk to my therapist about it…”

                “I think that’s an excellent idea,” Jake says, and he wonders if it’s them that places the seed in Bradley’s mind.

                “When did you get so smart?” Bradley asks and Jake snorts.

                “I’ve always been smart. You were just too busy to notice.”

                “Oh no, I always noticed you. I meant… you’ve gotten smart about me. It’s like… you sometimes know what I need even before I do.”

                “Just been paying attention Bradshaw…”

                “Bradshaw is it?” Bradley asks, eyebrow quirking up and Jake raises both his eyebrows in response, because he’s never going to get sick of flirting with him.

                He knows it to his core.

…            …            …

                “What do you think about me becoming a therapist?”

                “I think you’d kill it.”

                “Jake. Be serious.”

                “I am being serious! You would make a great therapist…”

                “I… you really think so?”

                “Babe. Bradley… why’d you join the Navy?”

                “To fly.”

                “If you hadn’t made it into aviation, what would you have done? Stayed?”

                “Yeah. Probably.”

                “Why?”

                “What do you mean why?”

                “Deeper than flying… why did you join?”

                “To…” Jake waits. He’s pretty sure he knows why, suspects Bradley’s therapist also knows why but Bradley hasn’t maybe put it together yet. “To serve… well. To help people I guess.”

                “Hmm. Like I said. I think you’d be pretty good at it.”

…            …            …

                So their lives shift a little again, and Bradley goes back to study, and he’s going to the same University as Amelia and suddenly he gets why and how Amelia becomes so entrenched in their lives. She spends the first year in the dorms, and Bradley rattles around in a two-bedroom apartment. Bradley has never lived alone and while he’s away Jake worries, so when he suggests Amelia maybe move in and they live together everyone treats him like it’s a genius solution. Which finds him, the summer before her second year helping her move in. While she’ll keep Bradley company while Jake’s deployed, her living with Bradley has made both Penny and Mav feel an infinite sense of relief about her living off-campus.

                “I feel much better about her living with you than in a sorority house or… well. I know you’ll keep an eye on her,” Maverick is saying and Jake catches Bradley’s eyeroll from across the room. Penny is busy cleaning the kitchen and doing a deep clean, which he knows Bradley is going to appreciate. Eventually. Once everything is back where Bradley wants it.

                “Yeah, because she’s totally going to want to hang out with me…” Bradley says with a grin towards Amelia and she grins back.

                “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re okay looking for an older guy, might make me look a little more interesting if I’m seen talking to you…”

                “You hear this Jake? I’m okay looking!”

                “For an older guy. I mean… I’d fuck you,” Jake calls back with a grin and Amelia pretends to vomit. Penny calls out a reprimand and all three of them roll their eyes, because they’ve all heard Penny swear a blue-streak.

                “Can you two ever not be gross?”

                “Nope.”

                He likes Amelia living with Bradley, it means he doesn’t worry so much when he’s deployed. That Bradley will make sure Amelia eats, and therefor taking care of his own needs. Plus he starts messaging Amelia for behind the scene updates and she doesn’t disappoint and Jake gets daily candid photos of Bradley doing domestic shit, or passed out cold on the sofa, or on campus meeting with his study group. When he comes back she makes herself scarce for twenty-four hours and then he takes her out for an expensive meal, which is apparently an acceptable trade.

…            …            …

                “This weekend! We’ve got forty-eight hours man. You said you wanted to be my best man, well, time to be the best…”

                “What?”

                “We’re getting married this weekend! Sunday!”

                Jake freezes, because they hadn’t set a date and he’d sort of been drifting, knowing that it was going to be ten-years from whenever they got married. And now he has a date. One only two days away.

                “Why are we in such a rush?”

                “You’re here, I’m here, Nix is here… Bradshaw can get here. She wants it in the small chapel on base, the one with those big pale wood arches. Plus we don’t want to wait anymore.”

                “Holy shit. Yeah. Okay. Fucking… tell me what you need me to do.”

                He rings Bradley, tells him he needs to get on a plane if he wants to stand up as witness for Nix. Of course Bradley drops everything, Amelia insisting on coming and Jake knows that that’s how it’s going to work, she’s going to be as big a part of Javy and Nix’s kids’ live as he and Bradley will be, so her being at the wedding feels right. Then Jake finds himself organizing a cake and a simple flower bouquet. Javy and Nix both have given him very strict instructions to not even think the word wedding when talking to anyone.

                The service is going to be small and private, set for the afternoon after the standard Sunday morning service. They have a week before they both get deployed again, so Jake searches for a resort within an hour drive which also has a honeymoon suite available, books it for them for five nights and lets them know he’s sorted his and Bradley’s wedding present to them.

                He’s pretty proud of what he and Javy have managed to achieve. The chapel didn’t need any decorating, but the Hard Deck, where they’re having the reception of sorts tomorrow evening, well, he supposes he has Penny and Amelia to thank for that, along with Maverick and Bradley. They’ve found soft fairy lights and large white paper lanterns and the whole place is unrecognizable as their usual watering hole. Except he recognizes it. It’s exactly like it is (was?) in the photos he can still remember looking at. As they shut up for the night everything is set for tomorrow and Jake doesn’t know why he’s so nervous.

                It’s not his wedding.

…            …            …

                Bradley has the confidence to look good in a hessian sack, and the legs to pull it off. In a tailored suit he looks mouthwatering. Jake knows he isn’t too shabby looking himself, glad he has an excuse to wear his suit rather than his dress uniform.

                “You look good…” Bradley says, giving him a slow sweep with his eyes and Jake laughs.

                “I am good…”

                “Fuck yeah you are…”

                “Not how it’s meant to go, but I’ll take it…” Jake says with a smirk, because he gets it now, why Bradley had looked at him so weirdly when he’d told Jake he looked good and he’d replied with a simple good morning. Fuck, no wonder Bradley believed him. That and Jake told him. At the wedding that they’re both at right now. Javy and Nix have disappeared somewhere for some photos, but Jake knows that they’re going to come through the doors, with Nix wearing a different dress from the one she got married in but looking no less gorgeous or happy.

                “Want to hear something really crazy?” Jake asks, leaning against Bradley for the reassurance of his presence, hopes he manages to come across as… sincere rather than insane.

                “Crazier than deciding to get married within two days?”

                “Yeah. Much crazier…” Jake says, and he’s still hold the half-filled champagne glass they’d used to toast Javy and Nix earlier. “I’ve seen photos of this… of this moment right here that we are in right now.”

                “How much have you had to drink?” Bradley asks with a laugh, taking the glass from his fingers.

                “Four sips of that champagne.”

                “So… what? You’ve got a sense of déjà vu?”

                “No. More than that… Just… imagine this with me. One day, actually, exactly ten years in the future, we’re happily married; I wake up and your arms are around me. Javy and Nat are off celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary and we’re looking after their three kids. They love and trust us enough to look after these three precious little humans. So I wake up and I don’t remember any of that. All I remember is being on a carrier stationed near Japan and suddenly I’m not anymore.”

                “What are you…”

                “Just… listen. So in ten years if I act a little weird for a couple of days, well, you made me fall in love with you over the space of a weekend… showed me how well we work together. I’m looking forward to filling in all the blanks.”

                “You’re… Jake. Are you being serious right now…”

                He shrugs.

                “Maybe it was just a dream. But it was a very fucking vivid dream. And I’d put money on Natasha and Javy coming through that door, she’s changed to a salsa dress and Javy’s going to be wearing suspenders and looking ridiculous, but they’re going to do a surprise dance number for us… we have a photo of it on the wall.”

                “Oh my god, you’re serious. Jake.”

                “I fell in love with you in this dream, and it made me want that with you so much… and I kind of figured if I could make you fall in love with me then we might get a chance at this happily ever after dream of mine.”

                “You’re a secret romantic… I mean, I knew that already. But just getting it confirmed again. I love you, you weird strange man.”

                “Mmm. Yeah. Love you too.”

…            …            …

                With the wedding photos now available he starts building the photo albums for his future-past self, and even if it’s all crazy and it never happens he doesn’t want to take the chance. Also he finds going through all their photos and picking the ones for including in a book to be an activity that brings him a lot of joy, seeing all their happiest moments and proudest achievements frozen in time.

…            …            …

                When they’re on vacation in the Rockies and Jake recognizes the view, stands there and takes it in with a deep breath, turns back to see what the hell is keeping Bradley only to find him on bended knee holding a ring box and even though he knew he would end up marrying him, having someone declare they love you so much they want to spend the rest of their live with you makes him burst into tears. He takes so many photos through blurry eyes, knowing that at least one is going to turn out so he can include the view in the photo album.

…            …            …

                Their bands are simple gold, although they’re made from gold melted down from Bradley’s parents wedding rings and a bangle that used to belong to his mom. Maverick had insisted on him keeping it all, and when Bradley gets a little emotional slipping the ring onto Jake’s finger he knows the moment is bittersweet, the fact that his parents aren’t here sad but the joy of the day will be everlasting. A photo of their joined hands, both showing off their rings, means more than just the start of their marriage. It encompasses their pasts too and he goes through the process of changing his name to Bradshaw.

…            …            …

                They have their honeymoon on a small island in the Pacific Ocean, and despite Jake’s insistence that Bradley didn’t use high enough SPF sunscreen and reapply it often enough after swimming Bradley gets terribly sunburnt on their third day. Fortunately the air conditioning in their private cabin is good, and they’re more than happy to spend the time together in bed. When the worst of it is over though Bradley starts peeling, making it somehow look worse and when they venture out to the night markets to find food Bradley gives him such a stink eye after he snaps a quick picture and sends it to the group chat.

…            …            …

                There are moments which he doesn’t capture. Natasha and Javy inviting him and Bradley over for dinner and telling them that they’re expecting a baby. That they’d like Jake and Bradley to be the godparents, and legal guardians, and that they want them both involved in the family care plan, seeing as they both still serve. Bradley’s jaw drops but Jake knew, hoped, and he wonders when he starts looking for their house. Their home. Of course both he and Javy are deployed when Nix gives birth to Alleisha, but Bradley is there for the birth, sounds fairly awed and disgusted by the whole process. Amelia makes herself invaluable and he knows now that she’s a speech and play therapist. Her and Bradley talk about things that overlap, but Bradley doesn’t ever work with kids, but he is good with them. One of Jake’s new favorite pastimes is watching Bradley hold Alleisha.

…            …            …

                He sees the notice and does a double take, because there’s a photo and he finds himself paying more attention to those these days than he ever has before. The dog looks like Thea. Bradley’s Thea. He wonders if he’s the one that gets Bradley a puppy. He snaps a picture of the flyer to show Bradley. When he raises it later, whether Bradley has ever thought of getting a dog, he gets a shake of the head and a weird look. Apparently Carole was allergic. Huh. Okay. Maybe things will be different.

                Of course he comes home two days later and finds a book about therapy dogs on the counter and he grins at it, raps his knuckles against it and then turns to find Bradley watching him from the doorway.

                “Am I getting a dog?” Bradley asks, and it’s like this sometimes, like he thinks Jake is somehow psychic and he guesses he does have quite a few insights about their future, but they’re more like markers laid out on a trail and he has to find all the paths between the points. He tries to keep them to himself for the most part, not wanting to enjoy the moments and time he has.

                “I don’t know. Do you want a dog?”

                “I didn’t think so. But I had my therapy appointment today.”

                “Yeah?”

                “And my therapist had a friend visiting who breeds therapy dogs. And that picture you showed me? That was her.”

                “Oh shit…”

                “Hmm. Her current litter is all spoken for, but Ali asked me if I would be interested in one from the next litter.”

                “That’s a hell of a coincidence…” Jake says.

                “Yeah well, I said I was. So I guess I’m getting a dog.”

…            …            …

                He’s deployed when Bradley sends him the link to several house listings, and then he sees it. Pictures of their house and his heart swells. There it is. He sends back this one. Bradley asks him if he’s sure, says it needs a lot of work. Jake replies that he’s as certain about the house as he is about loving him and that’s all that Bradley needs to make an offer. When he steps inside the first time his eyes widen, because it is nothing like he remembers but also Bradley had said it needed a lot of work. He wasn’t fucking joking.

                “I hope you like DIY…” Bradley murmurs, coming up behind him and pressing against him and Jake looks around, remembers photos of them painting and grins to himself.

                “Yeah, I think I’ll like it fine…”

…            …            …

                They have a trip to the beach, Nix and Alleisha firmly planted under a sun umbrella when Javy pulls out a soccer ball. He remembers the pain in his knee and he wonders if he should maybe avoid playing if it means he doesn’t get hurt. Except he can’t. He can’t not take part and he tries to be careful but when he feels his foot shift on the sand and his body weight goes the wrong direction over his knee he knows. He doesn’t try any heroics like walking on it. Tells Javy and Bradley both that they’re going to have to carry him and take him to the hospital immediately; asks for icepacks to assist with the swelling. Javy looks at him like he’s crazy but Bradley looks at him with wild eyes.

                “It’s my ACL and LCL. I’ll need surgery but I will fly again. Going to have to get used to having me around for a bit though…”

                Of course Bradley rolls his eyes, has words with Jake later about why he didn’t avoid the injury and he shrugs, says he doesn’t have it in him not to be competitive and kick a ball around with Javy. The benefit of being on light duty while he recovers and rehabs his knee means he’s there for James’ birth and holy shit. He gets why Bradley didn’t want to do it again.

…            …            …

                He smears the paint down Bradley’s naked chest, and the dark blue looks really nice against his skin. He says as much and Bradley twists against him, laughs and tries to buck him off where Jake’s got him pinned.

                “Uh uh Bradshaw… going to take you apart…”

                “Jake… the paint… it’ll dry and make a mess…”

                “Don’t care. We can buy more paint. We can clean up the mess… want to make another sort of mess right now.”

                With that declaration Bradley stops fighting and instead reaches to bring him down for a kiss and Jake grins into it, because he likes getting his way.

                Later, when Amelia and Bradley are both laughing at him over glasses of wine as he clips chunks of dried paint out of his hair he is less happy, but he still wouldn’t change anything.

…            …            …

                “Bradshaw… any relation to Nick Bradshaw?”

                “My late father-in-law,” Jake provides, and the eyebrows of the Admiral in front of him shoot up.

                “You married…”

                “Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw. Retired. Nick Bradshaw’s son.”

                “Huh. Means you must know Maverick as well then. I’m sorry Captain, what was your name previously?”

                “Seresin sir. Much prefer keeping the Bradshaw name and legacy alive and well instead.”

                There is a flash of recognition at his old name, because he’s just as legendary as Maverick now, if not better because he’s also known as someone who has saved Maverick’s life in the top-secret mission that of course everyone has heard rumors about. It’s years ago now though, and he doesn’t need to think anymore about his signature when he signs paperwork.

                “Fair enough.”

…            …            …

                Bradley buys him a camera for his obsession with taking photos and he enjoys it, becomes the unofficial photographer of their wider group of friends even though he’s got his own reasons for taking the photos. However he continues documenting all their vacations and gatherings, takes family photos and candid shots of them just hanging out. He doesn’t take any of it for granted, still occasionally blinks awake from sleep with his heart pounding and the knowledge that his life would be very different if he’d been a second later.

…            …            …

                When Brandy is born Javy is not deployed and both he and Bradley tell him he’s on his own. Instead they look after Alleisha and James, their bedroom is the biggest one in their house and there’s already a crib ready and waiting for when Brandy is old enough to start staying over. He startles then, realizing that it’s getting closer. The ten-year anniversary of Javy and Nat’s wedding. He pulls out a phone and looks at the calendar for 2035. Their anniversary is on a Friday next year. He has about nine months to prepare and he submit his leave request immediately.

…            …            …

                Of course he doesn’t get nine months. He’s deployed for a long six-month stint and he knows he’s missing some key moments in Brandy’s life, having seen so many of James’ while he was rehabbing his knee. However he’ll be home two weeks before the wedding anniversary and that’ll give him plenty of time to reacquaint himself with his husband before he… well. He’s not sure where he might go while his younger self is going to be hanging out in his body. He wonders if he’ll be back on the carrier in Japan and suddenly scrambles for memories that he might have to recall. Maybe he’ll just fake a stomach bug and get quarantined for the duration.

                “I can’t believe it’s been almost ten years…”

                “Best ten years of my life… and then some,” Jake murmurs, pressing a kiss onto the naked skin of Bradley’s shoulder. “Ten years…” Jake repeats and Bradley startles a little.

                “Yeah. Tenth anniversary. You uh…”

                “I remember what I told you… I still have no idea what the hell happened, or if it is even real but I guess we’ll know soon enough.”

                “Yeah, I guess we will.”

…            …            …

                He wakes under the weight of Bradley’s arm, his entire body pressed up tight against the line of Jake’s back, including a semi-hard erection and he knows without even opening his eyes that he’s back home, right time and right place, right name and also that while he can’t explain it he’s also not been fucking imagining what happened. He rocks back against Bradley’s cock and feels joy bubbling away through his entire body.

                “Mmm… Jake.”

                “Morning.”

                “Mmm,” Bradley mumbles, snuffling into the back of Jake’s hair and he keeps rocking, can feel the effect it’s having, can feel Bradley beginning to rock back into the friction, seeking it out. Then he’s gone, sharply pulling away, snapping on the bedside light and Jake winces and shades his eyes.

                “What the fuck Bradley…”

                “Are you…”

                “One hundred percent me, back to normal.”

                “You’ve never been fucking normal a day in your life…”

                Jake laughs.

                “Glad to have me back?”

                “Yes! Oh my god. So glad. I completely forgot… you let me sleep in! You… how the fuck did you just wake up and not freak the fuck out? I stress cleaned Jake. Our house is fucking spotless.”

                “Oh yeah… I remember that. I thought you were putting off having sex with me…”

                “That’s what I was stressing out about! You didn’t seem any different!”

                “You can have sex with me now. Again… also I was plenty freaked out but I also remember feeling pretty pleased that I had somehow gotten married to you.”

                “Oh my god… how… what even...”

                “I don’t know. Some things just can’t be explained I guess. Now going to give me my standard welcome home?”

                “Jake…”

                “Mmm… I fell in love with you over this weekend and then made you fall in love with me.”

                “You… so you don’t know what’s going to happen from now?”

                “I mean, I have some hopes for the short term…” Jake says, reaching a hand to stroke Bradley’s cock which makes him laugh and settle back against Jake, facing him and circling his hand around both their cocks. “And it’ll be our anniversary soon. Want to go to Hawaii?”

                “I guess the future is all ours…”

                “Baby, it’s always been ours.”

THE END

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt 10

First and foremost, we've gotten quite a few pieces of fanart from @your-local-furby and @antartzz in the last little bit! We've got a smooch scene as well as a drawing and comic of MC with antartzz's oc Freida. I always get all mushy and/or feral when I get art so I really do appreciate it!

On a more serious note;

Content warnings: homophobia, as well as "queer" being used as a slur, verbal abuse/altercations, and attempted physical assault. (MC and his father get into a really bad argument while shopping.) There is also a bit of ableism but it's no more extreme than in previous chapters, and the homophobia is a much bigger thing in this chapter.

Please be cautious if that is a particularly triggering.

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

“Could you hurry it up already?” you hear your father ask, holding a package under his arm.

You look around the store shelves, eyes scanning over different brands of typewriter ribbons. Your fingers ache from carrying the basket of items, so you carefully swap hands. “I’d probably finish up faster if you actually helped me find the brand I need.”

Your father scoffs. “There can’t be that much of a difference between all the other brands here. I’m sure you can find… whatever it is you’re picky about from a different brand.”

“The ribbon I’m looking for is from the same company that made my typewriter,” you explain for what feels like the hundredth time, but is probably only the seventh or eighth time, “it’s specifically made for that particular brand, and since mine is an older model, it’s difficult finding adequate substitutes.”

“Have you ever considered getting a new typewriter? Something newer and more universal?”

“Why would I when the typewriter I have right now works fine?”

“Because your typewriter is older than you are,” your father states, “and I’ll give you credit, you take good care of it, but if something breaks, it’s going to be expensive and difficult to repair, and that’s if they’re even making parts for it anymore.”

“I will worry about that when it happens,” you reply, “but for now, I need ribbons, and I’m struggling to find them.”

Your father sighs. “What’s the brand again?”

“Fuscienne ruban d’encre.”

“What?”

“It’s a box with Fontainian on it,” you answer. “This store is the only place in town that sells it, and unless they’ve partnered with other suppliers in Fontaine, it should be the only one.”

Your father is quiet for a few moments, allowing you to go back to searching for your ink ribbons. The silence is nice, and it’s short lived when you hear the man sigh again. “... Is this what you wanted for a career?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Writing those… girly books.”

You give your father a look. “... Really?”

“What? That’s what they are.”

“They’re romance books. It won’t kill you to say the word romance.”

“And who reads them?”

“People who like romance.”

“Don’t play this game with me.”

“Just get to the point already.”

“I’m just saying writing isn’t the only career you could have chosen,” your father explains, “you had options when you were younger, and you still have options today. You talk about how you can only do certain things on account of your vision, but you act like they’re the only options you have.”

Your father’s words catch you off guard, and you are quiet for a moment as you mull them over. They’re… almost inspiring out of context, but in that condescending hand holding way. You can hear someone else who means well but doesn’t understand saying some of those words to you with a smile that’s too big, too bright, too rehearsed. Something that would have sufficed as motivational when you were little, but just leaves a bad taste in your mouth as an adult.

That said, this is your father, so it immediately raises a red flag. It’s one thing for him to make a backhanded comment, it’s another for him to say something that could be misconstrued into something well meaning when stripped of the full context. You know this, and you know it can only mean one thing.

Your eyes land on a small box, and you pick it up. You then sigh, realizing this isn’t your brand, the design just looks similar. You’re still looking at the shelf when you speak up. “So, why are you in the doghouse this time?”

“Excuse me?”

Your eyes finally spot the word Fuscienne. You momentarily forget the conversation and grin at the last box on the shelf. You snatch it and drop it into the basket.

Your father places a firm hand on your shoulder. “What did you mean by that?”

Right. You turn to face him. “Mom’s mad at you about a comment you made and is making you babysit me,” you reply, “I don’t care what it was you said, but I’m assuming she’ll forgive you if I said you did a good job helping me.”

(Which he really didn’t, because you are a grown man who has been to this store on his own many times before, and your father helping you navigate the store would make your outing even longer.)

Your father averts his eyes, and under his irritation, you see embarrassment shine through the cracks in his mask. He crosses his arms, and on a smaller figure, it would look like such a petulant gesture. It just looks pathetic for someone his age. “The faster we get this over with, the sooner we go home and you go back to your books.”

You answer by walking to the front of the store. The old man behind the counter grins when he sees you. “Find everything you were looking for?”

You nod, placing the basket on the counter. “Grabbed the last box of the Fuscienne ink ribbons. Lucky me.”

“You know, son,” the old man says, “I like to keep at least one pack of the Fuscienne in the back, just for you.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes! You’re one of my regulars, and I know you like that one, so I always make sure I have extra for you in case it sells out before our next order.”

You find yourself smiling. “That’s really kind of you.”

“It’s no problem.” He starts pulling items out of your bag, ringing them up before handing them to his son, who then begins to bag the items. “How is your book?”

His son gives him a quick look. “Father, remember?”

The man behind the counter goes pale. “O-Oh, right, I forgot about the, erm…”

“No, it’s fine,” you assure the man, “progress is good! Very good. I actually got a deal with the Yae Publishing House shortly after my old publisher dropped me. I’m actually waiting for them to get back to me with their final thoughts before I officially start my final draft.”

The man grins. “Oho! That’s delightful! How long do you think it will take before you get it published?”

“I should be hearing back within the week,” you answer, “and after that… a month maybe, and I’m still deciding between cover designs, and I’m not sure what their exact manufacturing and publishing process is, so… I’m not a hundred percent sure when I’ll finally have it out, haha.”

“So I take it you haven’t heard about your old publisher?” the son pipes up.

“What?”

“You don’t know? He’s gone bankrupt.”

Your eyes go wide. “What?! What do you mean?”

“Mountains of debt, from what some of the other writers and editors have said,” the son explains. “Rumour has it the reason he started terminating contracts and laying off editors was so the money would go to paying it all off while still getting a cut of the profits from the books they had published through him.”

“Son of a bitch,” you mutter, before you feel yourself go pale. “Wait, wait, when did this happen?”

“Just a couple days ago,” the son says, “I’m surprised your girlfriend didn’t tell you. She still works there, right?”

“My girlfr… Alik? No, they’ve been out of town visiting family. Archons, the shitshow they’re going to be coming home to…”

“Wait, she– they’re not your–”

“No, no, I’m… I’m not interested in them like that.”

The son stares at you, and you see the little twitch of his lips. “You know what? That makes sense.”

“The hell are you implying?”

Your father’s voice making his presence beyond your central vision known scares you. You turn and see him glaring at the young man. 

The old man speaks up. “S-Sir, my apologies, my son didn’t mean any–”

“Are you insinuating something about my son, boy?”

You turn and see the son’s horrified expression. “I-It was just a joke, some banter between friends! R-Right?” he asks, looking to you for help.

“Father, calm down,” you tell him, “it’s not a big deal.”

He glares harder at the young man. “You’d like it if you thought my son wasn’t interested in that girl ‘like that,’ wouldn’t you?”

By the Tsaritsa this cannot be happening.

“I swear to you sir, it was a bad joke, I promise you, i-it sounded funnier in my head and–”

“I think it’s best we start going to another business,” your father hisses, “I don’t need you leering at my son.”

Horror floods your system, eyes widening and mouth agape. You feel your father staring holes into you expectantly, waiting for you to announce your disgust and disdain at such implications and storm out. Stuck in place, you see the old man’s face first, and he’s in a state of shock, too caught off by the situation to get angry. Then your eyes land on the young man. You can see he’s also shocked, but more than anything he looks humiliated, scared even. He looks like he’s about to start crying, and the sight switches your absolute horror to absolute rage.

You whip around, teeth bared in anger. “What the fuck is your problem?!”

“What’s my problem?! Ask him!”

You push your father’s chest and he staggers back. You point at the front door. “You already bought your shit so why are you even still in here? Just leave already!”

“And leave you alone with this–”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO.”

The shop goes deathly quiet. Your father’s eyes widen, absolutely shocked by your vulgarity, before his eyes narrow again. His jaw clenches, and in the quiet, you can almost hear the creaking of his clenched teeth. He gives one more dirty look to the young man before he stomps off. He makes sure to slam the door on the way out.

Your mother says he’s a good man, there are still just some traditional things he prefers. He’s very supportive of your sisters’ career or schooling choices, and is endlessly proud of his son for meeting a hard working and loving woman. It’s a side of him that doesn’t always come up, but it rears its ugly head when it comes to you, with your love of literature and romance. You’ve never been sure if it’s because your specific career isn’t the most manly of jobs, or if it’s because writing isn’t as impressive to him as becoming a surgeon or a lawyer or taking over the family business. Regardless, you’ve seen and heard some rather ignorant opinions from him. Your mother doesn’t approve of it, but her attempts at discouraging it are little more than a look, or a hand placed gently on the shoulder and a harshly whispered “honey” or “Mikhaïl.” 

Still, what the fuck was that?

You’ve by now memorized how much your purchases will cost. Fuscienne ink ribbons, stack of paper, and some envelopes. You know roughly how much the amount would weigh in your hand, so when you reach into your pouch and pull out a rather hefty handful of golden coins, it’s purposeful.

You pour the mora into the old man’s hand. “T-Take this, I am so, so sorry, I’ve never… I’ve never seen him react like that to anything.”

The old man looks at the mora in his hand. “This… This is too much, I can’t–”

“I don’t care, please take it as an apology on my behalf,” you insist. You step back and meet his son’s eyes. You place your hand on your chest, your face burning with embarrassment. “I-I can’t tell you how fucking horrified I am, and I am so sorry this happened. He’s said stupid shit before but this is new, I-I don’t know what happened but that is not okay.”

The man sniffles. “N-No, I made the joke, I–”

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him, “and, um, if I’m honest, y-your joke wasn’t off the mark, but I…” You shake your head. “You two will always be my go to shop whenever I need supplies, so I truly cannot tell you how awful I feel about this, I’m really sorry.”

The young man forces a smile, and nods, still distressed. His father pats him on the shoulder and gestures to a door behind them. You watch him step away from your things and head through the door, and you can hear the shaky breath he lets out through the closed door.

The man takes over bagging your items, which isn’t much considering you only bought a couple things, but he’s deliberately slow in the process. You wonder why, until he speaks in a soft tone. “So… you’re like my son.”

Picking up on the meaning behind his words, you immediately feel even worse about what just happened, feeling physically nauseous. “I am, if you’re talking about… not having girlfriends.”

He nods. “Not many people know, and not many bring it up,” he says, “this is the first time something like this has happened to him in the store. I… I think he’ll appreciate what you’ve done today when he’s not so shaken up. I know I do.”

You find yourself smiling, but not out of joy. “It’s nothing, really. People are fools, and my father is a court jester. It’s honestly the least I could have done, I feel.”

“Either way, I appreciate it,” he says, and then he hands you your things. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I will be,” you say, “I’m just about sick of his shit anyways, if you’ll pardon my vulgarity, and if I don’t rip into him then my mother will. Again, I am so sorry.”

“You take care now, son.”

You smile and nod, your chest tight with worry and face burning with embarrassment. Not much else is said, but there’s not really a whole lot else to say. You take a deep breath, brace yourself, and step outside.

Your father stops his pacing and immediately goes off when you step outside. “Where the hell do you get off embarrassing me like that?!”

Having lost all patience with him today, you immediately match his tone and energy and yell back. “Oh don’t give me all the credit, you did a fine enough job of that yourself!”

“That boy was out of line!”

“So you started berating him in front of his father? You started insulting him?”

“Do you not understand how inappropriate that joke was?”

“No, enlighten me.”

“He was implying you’re a queer! A queer! Why aren’t you upset about that?!”

There it is again.

You press on. “Why should I be?”

“You know why!”

“What the hell is your problem? Why are you so mad about that?”

“What are people going to say if they think I raised a queer?”

“It can’t be anything worse than what they’re going to say about you going off on an old man and his son for stupid reasons!” You grin angrily at him. “Front page, ‘owner of Kuznetsov Shipping Company verbally abuses shopkeeper's son.’ Like you need the bad press when you’re starting to get your shit back together. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you today?”

“What’s wrong with me? I could ask the same thing to you!” your father spits. “You’re going to defend some… some…!”

“Let’s not say anything too deplorable now,” you tell him, like a parent talking to a fussy toddler, “you might want to save that for when we get home.”

“This is your fault,” your father growls.

“How is this my fault?”

“Those prissy little fairytales you keep writing,” he answers, “they think you’re a queer.”

“And what… what’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with– son, are you gay?”

“What? No! Besides, I don’t have to be gay to think you’re being an ass, I can still see you, and they can probably hear you spouting hate from the palace.”

“You don’t have a wife, or a girlfriend, you don’t try to find one, and you spend all day reading girly books!”

“Like you’re any better,” you snap, and then immediately regret.

“What was that?”

Fuck. Well, you’re already in it now.

“You are obsessed with Pantalone,” you tell your father, “obsessed with getting on his good side, obsessed with making sure he likes you, your practices, that we don’t embarrass you in front of him, you even hijacked the afternoon tea he invited me and only me to! You want to point fingers and call me gay because I write romance? At least all my books are about men and women! You literally spend every day thinking about how to impress another man.”

You watch your father wind his arm back, but he’s stopped and seized by gloved hands. You step back in surprise, and when he’s pulled back, you can see he’s been grabbed by two guards. It brings you back to the present moment, and reminds you that you aren’t one of two people in the whole world. You look around the snowy street and see people, couples and families and a couple tourists, frozen in their spots on the street just staring at the spectacle. You look up at the shop and see the old man watching you, concerned.

“Unhand me!” your father yells.

“Sir, I’m going to ask you to calm down before you do anything stupid,” replies the guard.

A third guard steps out from behind the first tow and approaches you. “What is the meaning of all this yelling?”

“A-Ah…” You look over and spot your dad, no longer resisting, glaring daggers at you. “It’s… a family dispute.” 

“A family dispute?”

“Look, I’m sorry about causing a scene,” you answer, “my father and I had a disagreement, no one got hurt–”

“Because we stopped him from hitting you.”

“I know, I know, just…” You sigh. “I don’t want to press any charges, if there’s a fine for disturbing the peace, we’ll pay it.”

The guard looks to the other two, then to your father. He sighs, then turns back to you. “... Fine. We’re letting you off with a warning.” He looks over at your father and points at you as he addresses him. “You’re only off the hook because of him,” he says, then turns to you, “and you’re still on your feet because we stepped in. Remember this next time you let a family dispute get heated.”

“O-Of course, sir,” you reply.

The guards let your father go, and he gives them a dirty look while he straightens his coat back out. You don’t bother with sticking around, electing to instead turn around and walk down the street of murmuring people. Your father doesn’t bother calling out for you to follow him home, heading in the opposite direction instead.

You keep your gaze forward as you head to a currently unknown destination, just wanting to be anywhere else. Maybe the bakery down the road, something sweet would do a good job washing the bitter taste out of your mouth. 

The Pantalone comment was stupid, you think as you happen to pass the man himself, though your humiliation and wish to not be seen makes you figuratively blind to that fact (as well as literally). He stops when he recognizes who just passed him, half tempted to call out and ask how you’re doing, but refrains. Your body language is obvious and painfully honest, almost to a fault, and he can see you want to vacate the area as soon as possible. When he happens to look the other way, recognizing the silhouette of your father angrily storming in the opposite direction, he sighs.

“So that’s what all that racket was…”

[ladykailitha]

Do You Know What Shovels Dig? Graves Part 1

Just dipping my toe into the shovel talks trend.

*

“Hey, Steve?”

Steve turned around and Jonathan frowned. Steve’s eyes were puffy and his nose was red. “Oh, hey, man. What’s up?”

Jonathan could tell he was trying not to wipe the obvious tears from his face. As if that wouldn’t draw attention to them.

“I wanted to talk to you about you and Eddie’s relationship--”

Steve crumpled. That was the only way to describe it. The man was barely holding it together as it was, but it seemed that that was straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Look, I get it,” Steve snapped. “Don’t break Eddie’s heart. It sooo soft and I’m suuuuch a bitch. I don’t need the shovel talk from you.” The last word was said with such venom, Jonathan was forced to take a step back.

“Who’s been giving you shovel talks?” he asked.

Steve threw his arms in the air. “It would be easier to list off who hasn’t. The Byers family and El, only I can’t say that because you’re here. So just Will, your mom, and El.”

Jonathan frowned. “Even Robin?” Because that didn’t sound right. He had seen the two of them together and they were like freakishly close.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve snarled bitterly. “That’s the latest one. The one that makes me just want to throw myself into the god damn pool.”

Well, shit.

“Apparently this is Eddie first real relationship and since being gay is so hard right now, breaking his heart would be a disservice to humankind,” Steve mocked. “I asked her about my heart and my first relationship with a guy. But apparently that is as important as Eddie’s experience.”

Now that? Jonathan didn’t believe. But Steve was clearly hurt and was being dramatic about it. Which he was going to allow because holy shit.

But apparently Steve was just getting started. “At least Eddie’s friends all showed up together to give one shovel talk so that was nice. Hop and Wayne each did it while cleaning their hunting rifles, like they weren’t terrifying enough. I mean Mike’s an ass, so his I could brush off, but Dustin and Erica? Why does Eddie get more loyalty from them when I literally saved their lives? But Lucas and Max also double teamed me, so that was all sorts of fun. Nancy casually brought up that she has three guns now. So yeah, just get it over with so I can go back to being the worst boyfriend in Hawkins!”

Jonathan forced him to sit down. “That was a lot to unpack, I’m not going to lie. But take a deep breath for me, can you do that?”

Steve nodded and took a deep breath.

“Now let it out slow,“ Jonathan continued. Steve followed his instruction. “Great now keep doing that until your heart no longer feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.”

Steve started breathing more normally and Jonathan sat next to him. “I’m not actually here for a shovel talk. I was wondering if you or Eddie would be willing to talk to Will about liking boys.”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “What?”

“Yeah, he’s going through a really hard time with it right now,” Jonathan explained. “And I’m not really getting through to him because I’m straight and it’s pretty much meaningless coming from me.”

“Oh.”

“But no, I get your reaction, dude,” he said. “I really do. Has anyone given Eddie the shovel talk?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s not like I can ask, is it? ‘Oh hey, Eddie, anyone threaten your life over our relationship lately. No, no, not homophobes, I mean our friends? No? Well that’s just peachy!’“

Jonathan barked out a laugh. “Yeah, no matter how you phrase that it’s going to come off as bitchy. Especially if no one has.”

Steve nodded.

“Look, if you talk to Will for me,” Jonathan said, “I’ll talk to Eddie. Deal?”

Steve looked at the hand for a moment before he shook it. “Deal.”

*

Jonathan knocked on the Munson’s door. Eddie opened it with a look of surprise.

“Look, man,” Eddie said with a sigh. “I don’t sell anymore. And besides your friend from Cali has better stuff.”

Jonathan held up his prized. “Oh, I’m aware, I’m offering to share.”

Eddie looked at him for a moment and then closed the door behind him. “Yeah, okay.”

Jonathan lit two blunts and passed one to Eddie.

Eddie took a drag and sighed. “Shit this stuff is good.”

Jonathan just smiled.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the share, man,” Eddie said after a few minutes, “but why are you here?”

“I went over to Steve’s to ask him if he would be willing to talk to Will for me,” he said after taking a drag.

“Because your brother is gayer then the May pole?” Eddie supplied.

“Yup,” he replied. “Only our Stevie wasn’t doing so good.”

Eddie leapt to his feet. “What?!”

Jonathan tugged on his pant leg. “Sit down, dude. Let me explain before you go off half cocked and make things worse.”

Eddie sat down with a grumble. “You better start talking and you better do it fast.”

“In my experience shovel talks are for people you don’t trust not for people you care about,” Jonathan said slowly. “Only it seems our friends didn’t get the memo.”

“People have been giving Steve the shovel talk?” Eddie asked, eyes wide, jutting his chin forward in shock. “But no one’s said shit to me!”

Jonathan winced. “That’s kinda what me and Steve were afraid of.”

Eddie felt his heart sink to his stomach. “Do you--did he say how long it’s been going on?”

Jonathan shook his head. “But the fact that only my house and El haven’t given him the shovel talk I would probably bet since you two announced your relationship.”

“Shit,” Eddie whispered. “I bet the first two were funny, endearing even. Steve likes that kind of stuff. And then as it kept happening...”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agreed. “Has he been distant lately?”

Eddie closed his eyes and nodded. “Now I know why.” He thought for a moment. “Is there a way to call everyone together without alerting Steve, too?”

Jonathan shrugged. “If his boyfriend were to ‘accidentally’ turn off the walkie for an hour for some hot makeup sex...”

Eddie laughed. “I can absolutely do that.”

“I’ll set it up,” Jonathan said. He flicked the remainder of his blunt to the ground and stood up to grind it out under his boot.

*

Dang it, this was getting longer than I planned, but I’ll put out a part two later.

Edit: and it’s later! And part three! Part four and Part FIVE! Part Six!!!