#it’s the only thing we got in this world when you really think about it
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penny-anna · 2 days ago
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not to vague but when i was a teenager i really heavily internalised the idea that being bi/pan was on some level the most 'enlightened' sexual orientation bcos well u know everyone's at least a little bisexual and gender is made up and if you think about it having a preference is kind of like being prejudiced etc etc.
anyway then I went out into the world aged 18 and tried really really hard to be bisexual in practice and it turned out i was not bisexual. i tried dating a man and pretty much as soon as we got physical realised i just was not attracted to men.
i spent the next few years being fully aware that i was a lesbian but variously 1) declining to self-describe as a lesbian 2) telling people i was 'like, 90% gay' 3) being like well sexuality is fluid so im not one of those boring old-fashioned lesbians who's only attracted to women 4) saying well u know there MIGHT be a man out there for me. can't rule it out just bcos i haven't found one yet.
eventually i came across a blog post written by a friend of mine talking about a lot of the things i'd been feeling and describing them as 'internalised lesbophobia' and i remember sitting there is. is this not just what I'm supposed to believe? is this not the progressive way to be a lesbian?
i'd have been well into my 20s at the time and i think that was the first time i realised i was allowed to only be attracted to women 👍and don't get me wrong heteronormativity and compulsory heterosexuality were major factors in this but let me tell you the stuff i was picking up in LGBT spaces was not helping.
anyways no i promise you not everyone is bisexual, i have checked 🌈
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gifsbysimplysonia · 2 days ago
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Hola. Long rambling feedback behind the cut as well as
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When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.
I think this is so beautiful. Anyone who is a creative knows how difficult it can be to find a muse. So for this person to inspire a twitch in Logan after YEARS? That's just a very beautiful thing.
He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him.  Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring. 
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And this is for BOTH 1) thinking it's not ok to be into art??? OK BUT CAVEMEN CARVED INTO WALLS, SIR and 2) "you're nothing if not inspiring" *screamingggggggggggggggggggg*
The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises.  Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing. 
I love that this fits with the Logan I know, the demand on self for perfectionism and the refusal to accept anything but. But it's especially important cuz he wants to do right by YOU/HER. *swoon*
And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more. 
Sigh. Oh Logan. Always thinking he's not worthy while he holds everyone he cares about up on pedestals. I both adore him and wanna shake him for these habits.
He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.
He gets Rogue to show him Instagram for reference photos. HOW CUTE!
Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite. 
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This is soooooooooooooooo beautiful. It is just a loud beacon of what Logan's heart really is. It's also really precious that he finally produces a drawing of her that he's satisfied with which then produces ANGST in him. Cuz he can't leave it out cuz what if people see? But he doesn't want to hide it cuz what if it smudges? Watching him go back and forth about it and the STRESS shows how much it means to him not to mess it up but ALSO, I think, how much it means to him to be back drawing. As a creative who goes through the longest dry patches, when a period of productivity comes up? OH DO I WANT TO HANG ONTO IT. And probably try so hard that I make it slip through my fingers.
He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again.  He could give it to you. 
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DO IT LOGANNNNNNNN!
Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing? 
YOU care, sir! And people who love you will SEE that and care too!!! Don't we all wish he valued himself and his opinions more.
The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him.
It's so precious to me, how relatable this is. Anyone who is a creative can relate, I'm sure. How nervous creatives are before they publish or they post or they even just share with someone they are close to. I wanna hug him.
He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it.  Sappy motherfucker. 
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Some day, someone needs to tell him he can give himself permission to BE sappy. Corny is part of life and it's a blessing.
He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door.  So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart.  It’s soo stupid. 
It's annoying to read Logan's antiquated views on masculinity here. Completely understand that it fits with his character and how he has aged and evolved but omggggggggggg, it's just frustrating lol
You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.
The way we can convince ourselves of the worst possible outcome, eh? *smh*
You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing.  You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.” 
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SHE IMMEDIATELY TREATED IT AS SOMETHING PRECIOUS!!! SHE WANTED TO PROTECT IT JUST LIKE LOGAN WANTED TO PROTECT IT!!! BUT SHE LOVES IT TO THE POINT SHE MADE HERSELF A COPY TO CARRY IT AROUND WITH HER AT ALL TIMES!!!!!
“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that.  But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?”  You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”
To see the similarities in how they DON'T see themselves fully is kind of sweet and makes me root for them.
“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.”  The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created. 
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He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing. 
This is HILARIOUS and KILLING ME because I also make rules for MYSELF that are different from the rules I have for EVERYONE ELSE lmao
He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy. 
Logan being an Acts of Service person makes ALL the sense in the world to me.
But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end. 
The curse of the sequel! I think a lot of creatives can relate to this type of self induced pressure which means nothing you produce is good enough.
“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.” He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.
She already has a frame for the new drawing cuz the frames came in packs of 2 and she will NOT STAND for someone not absolutely FAWNING over it and I love that from her. It's doing Logan's heart SO good to see how much she adores what he's created.
If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you. Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.
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It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.
Our man is S-M-I-T-T-E-N and I love that for him. Cuz look what it's brought back into his life?
“I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it. “No one else knows.” You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.
This is so intimate. And he's finally comfortable all the way with her. She knows it's him and he's fine with her knowing it's him.
You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.
I appreciate that Logan is just the tiniest bit "selfish" here because this has been such an emotionally taxing ordeal for him. And she really really admires his talent and is THRILLED that it's him and that he sees her the way that he does.
From here the story slips into the Rated R portion of the story which is both hot and very sweet. The buildup means that I feel a genuine connection and intimacy between the 2 that feels "earned," if that's the right word. Cuz it doesn't feel forced or rushed or like we skipped a whole bunch of stuff to get here.
I also love that there's open dialogue. Often, the only talk between lovers is dirty - which I am a big fan of and absolutely fine with - but that here we have sweet confessions, constant check ins, and reassurances; these all fit with the journey we've been on with these two and I just really enjoy that aspect.
There's also good dirty talk, balanced give and take and praaaaaaaaaaaaise which I enjoy thoroughly. Logan also tends to take the possessive "my girl" over and over which just melts my butter!
@selfcarecap thank you so much for creating and sharing this! Thank you for following YOUR muse through to the end of this tale and then being brave enough to slip it under all our doors *bad dum tss* I really loved this look at Logan, his vulnerabilities, his abilities and desires beyond his powers / "job" and what allowing himself to create ultimately gifted him with. Well done smut that I also very much enjoyed too.
And thank you to K for putting it on my dash!
MUSE [L.H.]
Logan Howlett x reader
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summary: Logan would never admit it to anyone, but over the course of his long life he has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. He hasn’t done it in years, maybe even decades, but he’s struck by inspiration when he meets you. Of course, no one can know that Wolverine draws, so he does it in the dead of night, sliding anonymous envelopes with the finished drawings of you under your door. When he sees how much you love them, he wonders if you could also love the person behind them. 
warnings: smut 18+ but with an actual plot for once (brief m masturbation, oral f and m rec, unprotected piv sex, kind of accidental (but consensual obv) facial; pet names: bub, baby, good girl, princess), soft!Logan but he won’t admit it, also soft!reader, fluff (although the summary makes it sounds a bit more dramatic than it is tbh), implication that reader has curly hair, implied mutant/X-men!reader, (obviously the pic doesn’t represent the envelopes Logan uses lol he’s not doing all that)
word count: 7.3k
also i feel the need to say something about the fact that it’s Hugh Jackman’s birthday today lol so uh thanks for being huge jacked man and for giving us our Logan yay <3 | gorgeous divider by @plutism
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It’s everything Logan is the opposite of – he would never tell a soul – but over the course of his long life, Logan has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. It’s not really him, but he did have a phase or two.
When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.
He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him. 
Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring. 
He gives in to the urge to get out pencil and paper again, waiting until everyone else has gone to sleep. The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises. 
Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing. 
He picks out a few other things to draw then, to ease the pressure that comes with drawing the woman he… is friends with. Yeah, you’re a friend. And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more. 
But after a few nights he feels more confident in his drawing skills again, but still, as much as he can picture you in his mind – he can do that absolutely perfectly – he’s not too sure he could really draw you accurately.
So he gets Rogue to show him how goddamn fucking Instagram works so that he can look at some of your pictures and use them as a model. 
He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.
He can’t believe it, but the first time he seriously attempts to draw you, it’s perfect. It’s a small drawing, not even as big as his palm, capturing your gorgeous face. He thinks of adding another few lines to your eyebrows, or to your hair or another small one to the outline of your lips, but he doesn’t want to mess with it. 
Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite. 
He hides the drawing in between the pages of a book, and hides the book under a pile of random clutter on his desk that not even he would normally spare a glance at. But when he lies down to go to sleep, he gets all the stuff out again and gets out the drawing. He wants to see it again. And he can’t leave it there anyway, what if the pressure from all the items on top of it smudges it? 
But he doesn’t know what else to do with it. He can’t really have a drawing of you sitting in his room. What if someone sees? Then what is he gonna do with it instead? 
He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again. 
He could give it to you. 
Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing? 
The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him. To see the side that has him staying up until 3AM to finely trace the lines of someone’s eyelashes and cheekbones and lips, the side that makes him feel calm inside. 
He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it. 
Sappy motherfucker. 
He puts the small drawing back into the book and carefully pushes it between his mattress and the bedframe to protect it during the night. God, who even is he – protecting a tiny piece of paper? He groans at himself as he turns around to go to sleep. 
He dreams of making a thousand drawings of you, with you as his live model. His muse. 
You’re his girlfriend in his dream, he thinks. 
He’s sitting in a chair in your room, drawing you as you tell him about your day. You’re lying on your bed on your tummy, elbows propped up to support your head. You’re gently kicking your feet in the air behind you, wearing nothing but a t-shirt of Logan’s, some silly graphic socks, panties with little cherries on them, and a bright, bashful smile as Logan attempts to capture your glowing features in a sketch block he’s dedicated to drawings of you. 
He wakes up with morning wood. 
Logan is no stranger to jerking off with you on his mind, so he spits in his hand and slips it beneath his boxers, stroking himself as he thinks of you. He imagines you on top of him as he jerks his cock, imagines you under him, or with your legs around his head, or you between his knees on the floor. He cums quickly and hard, leaving his boxers wet and sticky.
He goes for a run after he’s dealt with it and picks up an envelope on his way. He’s doubting himself but he knows he has to just do it. He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door. 
So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart. 
It’s soo stupid. 
He makes sure no one is anywhere near your bedroom, walks up to your door, and slides the envelope underneath. Except he didn’t check if you were in your room. As soon as the envelope disappears beneath your door, he hears a short creak from your bed and your soft footsteps. 
He hears the small and adorable noise of curiosity you let out – a confused hm? – and then he quickly and quietly makes his way down the hallway. He hears your voice about ten seconds later, an intrigued hello? as you open the door, but you don’t investigate further, closing the door behind you. 
Logan’s heart is beating so fast. He’s never doing this shit again. 
He’s antsy all day, waiting for some type of reaction from you. Except you don’t know that the drawing is from him so he’s probably not even getting one, and he can’t conspicuously come to your room the same day you receive an anonymous drawing of yourself. 
It’s also when the insecurity settles in. Maybe he should have added a few more lines or started the entire drawing anew. Who does he think he is pretending to be an artist? 
He shakes those thoughts off as he starts training with the punching bag in the gym. It’s not something that he necessarily needs to train, but it gets rid of some of that pointless energy. This isn’t him, worried about some lines he drew on a piece of paper – a scrap of a paper, really. Who cares about something like that? Certainly not him. 
He sleeps dreamlessly and wakes up the next day disappointed that he didn’t get to dream about being your boyfriend again. God, what are you doing to him? Making him think about being boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s pathetic. You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.
-
He’s not even thinking of the drawing anymore, truly, when he walks into the kitchen the next morning. It only comes to mind when he sees you, alone in the kitchen, leaning over the counter to scroll on your phone, your weird green coffee (“it’s Matcha, Logan”) next to you as you stir it mindlessly with a metal straw. 
“Hi,” you look up with one of those sweet smiles of yours, but redirect your attention to your phone. 
At least you don’t immediately say something like hey, you know that drawing you slid under my door? It was so ugly I threw it away. Since when do you even draw? 
Not that he was worried you would or anything. He hasn’t been thinking about it. Obviously. Why would he? And he knows you would never expect that it’s him; that’s the only reason he did it. He never would have given you the drawing if he thought you could have even the slightest inkling that Logan would be someone who draws. But he still wants to know what you think of it. 
“You want some toast too?” You ask, putting your phone down and turning to get some bread. He sits down at the other side of the kitchen counter and as his eyes flicker to your green drink (he still doesn’t get it), he sees it. 
“Is that–” my drawing, he almost said, “What is that?” He pretends to be confused, drawing his eyebrows together, trying his best to look inquisitive, “No toast by the way, thanks.” 
You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing. 
“Did you draw it?” He asks. 
You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.” 
“Secret admirer?” 
Smiling, you say, “I don’t know. I won’t get my hopes up. But the person must definitely be fond of me to draw me like that.” 
“Like what?” He asks, unsure if he’s about to be offended. 
“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that. 
But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?” 
You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”
Logan stays silent. He can’t seem too pushy and draw attention to himself, but his silence makes you confess.
“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.” 
Logan makes a noise of satisfaction and smiles, asking you to pass your phone so he can look at it more – pretending it’s his first time seeing it. If you think that way about it, maybe the three more lines he was going to add aren’t that important after all. 
The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created. 
-
After a week, he figures he has to give in. Drawing another picture of you is on his mind twenty-four seven. 
It doesn’t help that he still catches you staring at the copy of it in your phone case lovingly more than once a day and you’ve put the original drawing in a special little frame on your nightstand. He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing. 
This is for you. It’s not about him. He’s not an artist or anything like that, he’s just doing something kind for someone he cares about (which is honestly sappy enough but he tries to ignore that). He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy. 
He’ll just make this second drawing and silently put it in your room, and he’s the last person you’ll suspect. 
But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end. 
It takes him an entire month for the next drawing, and it feels more like him that it’s been making him so angry that he couldn’t get it right at first. Maybe he had the wrong picture of artists. They’re always talking about pain, aren’t they, and that’s what he experiences too (over a drawing. Who is he?). 
He takes another few days to keep track of your routine, to monitor when you’ll be in your room. He can’t have it be as close as last time. 
He ends up doing it in the evening. There’s a time after dinner when most of the team stays together to watch tv, just talk, or play some games. It’s normal for some of you to wander off, come back or stick around a bit longer. It won’t be suspicious if he leaves for a few minutes and comes back.
Logan wants nothing more than to follow you when you say that you’re going to your room for the night; he wants to see your reaction. But he can’t. All he can do is go up to his own bedroom fifteen minutes later, lingering in the hallway longer than he needs to.
Just as he’s about to give up and go to sleep, you walk down the hallway, coming back from the bathroom.
“Logan!” you call all excitedly when you see him, and his heart skips a beat. Do you know the drawing is from him? 
“Look,” you take his arm and pull him to your room, “I got another drawing!”
He breathes out in relief; you don’t know it’s from him. He smiles when you hold up the drawing, already framed.
“Were you expecting to get another drawing?” he teases.
“Noo, but the frames came in a pack of two. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
Logan looks at how your eyes sparkle, how proudly you’re showing him this drawing. All the work he put into it was definitely worth it. It’s another picture of your face, this time from a new angle, and with your hair styled differently, curls coiled another way from last time.
Logan clears his throat, remembering to keep up his act. “It looks good.”
“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.”
He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.
“It is. And you don’t have to know much about art or drawing to see how pretty this is. I still can’t believe someone would take the time to make these for me.”
Logan remains silent instead of saying what he wants to tell you. Of course he would take that time for you – and you don’t even know how much time it really took him. If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you.
Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.
-
He’s on a roll for some time. He’s better at drawing again now that he’s getting in practice, and he makes five drawings of you within the next weeks. Logan watches the collection of them on your nightstand grow fuller, along with your smile that somehow gets bigger every time you tell him about a new drawing.
It’s a wonder you haven’t caught on yet, but you don’t seem particularly interested in snooping around to find out who it is. You respect the person’s privacy, but you’ve confessed to him that you’d still love to know. 
“I won’t try to find out who it is. I won’t push it if they don’t want me to know… but, I mean, anyone would want to know, wouldn’t they?”
You’ve adopted the nickname of ‘secret admirer’ for this mysterious ‘they’, after Logan used the term about ten times. You were reluctant at first, because the person isn’t calling themself a secret admirer – you’d just be putting words in their mouth. But after seeing how much more beautiful the drawings get each time, you’ve accepted and admitted that, okay, yes, the person must be an admirer.
Your secret admirer Logan is particularly proud of his latest drawing, excited to bring it up to your room tonight. 
But this time he’s sloppy. He’s stayed for a few post-dinner card games with the team, and it’s risky, because you’ve been saying that it’s your last game for the last two rounds. But he also knows that you always say that, and never mean it.
Logan gets up to leave, and he hears Scott convincing you to play just one more round.
It’s stupid, really, risking it like that. Even if he’s gone from your room in time before you come upstairs, you could easily guess that it’s Logan. He’s the first one leaving the round tonight, so your first assumption could be that it was him.
Maybe subconsciously he wants to get caught. He’s seen how you light up at every drawing, and no matter how much you respect your admirer’s anonymity, of course you want to know who’s dedicating so much time and work to drawings of you. Of course it’s crossed your mind that the person isn’t just doing this because they’re a good friend. They’re drawing your face because they think it’s beyond beautiful.
Logan doesn’t really know why he hasn’t told you yet that he likes you. He’s good at flirting, and he’s attractive – he’s not blind. But with you it’s different, there’s a bigger risk, for the both of you. The older he gets, the harder it is to open up to yet another person. You’re friends, and you talk about personal things, but confessing that he’s in love with you is different.
Not to mention this stupid recurring dream he keeps having, in which you find out it’s Logan who’s been drawing you, and suddenly your opinion of the drawings changes. You don’t like him back like that, and suddenly the drawings feel creepy if you think about him staying up late drawing your face.
He rolls his eyes at himself and gets the thought out of his head, taking the small envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans, smoothing his hand over it. He looks around, making sure no one sees him.
Logan bends down to slide the envelope under your door as usual, but one of the corners of the paper catches against the wall, and he quickly opens it to check the drawing isn’t damaged. His heart is beating so fast, he feels stupid. 
He can hear footsteps, still far away, but he can hear them. Logan messily licks the edges of the envelope to close it back up, but it’s not sticking. He can’t decide between shoving it under the door like this or leaving now and bringing it back the next day. He can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage now.
Then he hears it. He miscalculated how far the footsteps were.
“Logan?”
He turns around slowly, and it feels like the world has frozen.
You come closer, looking at him and then at the letter that he must’ve dropped. It hasn’t made it under your door yet.
He says something before you can, “I’m delivering for someone else.”
“Who?” you ask, bending down to pick up the envelope. If he wasn’t petrified, he’d enjoy the view of you bent over in front of him.
He breathes. He can’t have anyone taking credit for his work, for his art (you called it that recently, he would never). But his heart is beating so fast he doesn’t know what the fuck to do or say. 
This is exactly why he never wanted to do any of this. He’s making a fool out of himself and that doesn’t usually happen, especially not over a piece of paper. Logan is confident, cocky even, he can admit that, and has no idea how to deal with things like being nervous; he never has to. This really isn’t him.
You don’t wait for an answer and look at the envelope. You open it so carefully, gently taking the drawing out with your fingertips. You’re treating it with so much care he immediately feels better. Again, this isn’t for him, it’s for you. (Well, it’s for him too but it’ll take him a while to admit that). 
He’s drawn your smile this time. You were happy in most of the drawings before, but he focussed more on the eyes, and your lips only ever tugged up in a slight smile. 
This one is a full-toothed grin, mid-laugh. 
You two were drinking last weekend. He barely felt it but your tipsy, giggly mood was contagious. He couldn’t imagine himself feeling any other way but blissful when you’re happy around him. 
It started when Logan made a casual comment about something silly Scott was wearing that night, and he had you giggling. He wanted to immediately hear that angelic sound again, of course, and so he gave you every joke about your shared friends he could think of – all light-hearted, but he was still glad you two were alone. 
It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.
You look up at him now, eyes filled with tears. 
“You drew this?” you ask.
He nods softly. He can’t say it but he hopes the drawings convey how in love with you he is. 
Suddenly, Logan feels like his heart has stopped beating.
You’re kissing him. 
You’ve leaped up, wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, and now your lips are on his. 
He feels your mouth falter, probably because he’s being a fucking idiot and not kissing you back. Logan places his hands on your waist to pull you further towards him. Then his brain finally catches up and he can do what he’s wanted to for so long. 
He takes your chin with two fingers and angles you so you can kiss him easier. He closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of your soft, warm lips against him. You’re soft and warm all over. Your top has slipped up over his fingertips at your sides, and he slides his hands further around your back to support you against him even better. 
Logan’s tongue pushes at your lower lip, and you let out the sexiest, tiny moan of surprise as you part your lips for him, granting him access. 
His tongue touches the tip of yours and from then on your cravings intensify. You feel your way over his muscular shoulders, his big biceps and over the hard planes of his chest. When you’ve had a good feel there, your hands grip his shirt in desperation and Logan gets even hungrier for you. He gently bites at your lower lip, but then you shriek into his mouth and squirm out of his grasp. He opens his eyes wide. 
You grip Logan’s forearm for support when you bend down in a panic, picking up the drawing you just dropped. You let out a big breath of relief when you see it hasn’t been damaged. 
“You made me drop it!” You slap a hand to his chest; it doesn’t actually hurt and it’s not meant to, but it leaves a pleasant tingle behind instead. 
“I didn’t do anything”, Logan laughs, and you shake your head at him with a smile.
You take him into your room where you make him sit on the bed while you stare at the new drawing in awe. “I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it.
“No one else knows.”
You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.
“I’ll only draw for you anyway, so there’s no point in telling anyone else.”
“You’re really good. I love the drawings.”
Logan gives a satisfied hum at your words, “You inspired me. Can’t have you walking around all pretty and not expect me to try and recreate it.”
You straddle Logan and hover over his lap to hug him, “They’re the best thing anyone's ever given to me. Do I really look like that?” You say the last question more quietly, and Logan wraps his arms around your sides, careful not to bump your hand that’s still holding the drawing.
“You’re more gorgeous than anything I could ever capture, but I think it comes close. I didn’t change anything about you to make you more beautiful. I couldn’t if I tried. I just tried to draw you as accurately as possible, that’s why it’s so beautiful.”
“I really love it,” you say again, happily staring at the details of the drawing. Hearing you say the word love so much tempts Logan, but he doesn’t want to move too fast. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you. He does, however, want to kiss you again.
Logan carefully takes the framed drawing and puts it on your nightstand. You push your mouth against his before he can initiate the kiss, and he grins against your lips.
You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.
Your chest is pressed against Logan’s, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes. You may or may not be pressing your boobs against his body on purpose.
“God, baby, I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, already breathless, as his hands trail down your back, leaving goosebumps behind.
“You’ve waited long?” you raise your eyebrows, grinning, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you.”
You see the look in Logan’s eyes changing as he bites his lip, “Who says I didn’t want the same?”
You giggle, “Why did it take us so long?”
Logan chuckles, readjusting you so that you’re even closer to him, “I was too busy to actually talk to you, just been starin’ at you so I could draw you.” His cheeks have the faintest red tint, and you kiss them, hugging him.
You whisper into his ear, “Then it was worth the wait. And anyway, it’s not talking that I’m interested in right now.”
He pulls you back to look into your eyes, then at your lips. “Where do you want me?” he asks. You giggle slightly helplessly; you weren’t entirely prepared to have a man like Logan at your mercy like this tonight.
“You can do whatever you want,” you say softly, kissing him.
Logan’s lips are hungry against yours, strings of spit falling between you two, but he pauses the kiss to lie you on your back. “Wanna eat you out,” he husks, “Been dying to know what you taste like forever, bub. Can I?” He reaches for the hem of your top, and you nod so that he can pull it off you, admiring what’s underneath. 
“Sometimes I make myself cum imagining that I’m going down on you,” you confess somewhat shyly, but you figure he’s been so vulnerable for you that you can share a secret too.
Logan smirks, and pulls off his shirt, “Maybe we can make your dream come true then.”
You move to sit up, but he insists on eating you out first. You both take off all your clothes, staring at each other with huge smiles on your faces for a few moments. You’ve never seen Logan this happy.
“Look at you, baby. So pretty,” he leans down to kiss your lips, then down your neck, all the way to your legs. He spreads them, lying down between them as he all but drools at the sight of your wet pussy.
You get nervous all of a sudden. “It’s been a while,” you tell him. He looks up, taking your hand, enveloping it completely in his much bigger one.
“You sure about this? We can wait,” he gently kisses your knuckles, and a warmth spreads in your chest, slowing your heartbeat down a little.
“I’m sure,” you nod, and Logan comes up again to kiss you. The head of his hard cock catches against the space above your clit, and you both look down between your bodies. When Logan looks back up at you, his eyes are desperately begging you. You place your hand on his head, threading your fingers through his hair as he moves down your body.
“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he mumbles into your thigh, kissing you there. You giggle, getting comfortable, your hand never leaving his hair.
Logan starts eating you out, his tongue gentle but determined against your clit.
“Taste so good, baby. Even better than I imagined.” You hum at Logan’s words, already feeling yourself come undone with his mouth on your wet pussy.
You sink further into the mattress when he starts sucking on your clit, licking into your pussy like a man starved every few moments, and your thighs squeeze around Logan’s head, and it’s even better than in his fantasies.
“Feels really good,” you tell him, pulling on his hair to stop yourself from moving too much, and Logan moans against your skin. Hearing your words motivates him even more, and he pushes two fingers into your wet pussy. He curls his fingers, rubbing up against that spot that makes you see stars.
Your back arches as you cum, Logan’s lips wrapped around your clit as your legs push harder against his head, and all he does is moan, revelling in the feeling.
Logan doesn’t stop licking your pussy until you’re tugging his head away by his hair, and he comes up for air with a grin on his face. You smile back, pulling him up to kiss him. You give yourself only a few seconds of recovery time before you make him sit down. You know you’d never have enough strength to actually make him get into a different position, but he lets you.
You push him onto his back, getting between his legs. You’re blinking up at him all prettily when you ask, “Can I suck your dick? Please?”
Logan huffs to himself because he can’t believe how hot you are, can’t believe that this is really finally happening. He tells you yes – he has no more words to describe how badly he wants this – and he watches you wrap your pretty lips around his cock.
It’s hard to grasp that it’s really you doing this right now – the woman he’s been into for so long. His cock is in your mouth and you look so gorgeous with spit running down from your lips, and all he can think of is all the dirty drawings he can now make of you, if you’ll let him.
He closes his eyes when you take him deeper, enveloping him with your warm, wet mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers absent-mindedly, too gone to say much more.
You’re not using your hands as you suck his cock, your spit trailing down on him, and you’re so eager. But it’s also late, and he sees you getting tired, eyes blinking slower as you pause to catch your breath every few moments. He also sees the determination in your eyes, and the absolute want, but he doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself. 
You look so sexy all fucked out, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his cock as you pull away another time, giggling up at him shyly when you realise that he’s noticing you getting tired.
“Just need a second,” you wipe your mouth, out of breath, and it’s not that you’re not incredibly hot like this, but he still wants to fuck you tonight and he’s not sure that will happen if you keep going.
“C’mere, baby,” he says, reaching out his hand.
“Huh?” you ask, taking his hand nevertheless.
“Get back here, baby. I’m gonna fuck you now, alright? Don’t want you tiring yourself out.”
You let him lift you and put you on your back, but you pout, “Wanna taste you.”
Logan grins, “I’ll cum in your mouth, princess. Promise.”
You smile at his answer, satisfied, so you lie back down, pulling your legs up to your chest. His cock looks huge as he jerks himself off between your legs, rubbing the tip against your clit, making you squirm.
“Don’t know if I can take you,” you bite your lip. You’re not entirely sure if you mean it or not. You definitely want to try.
“We’ll make it fit, baby, we’ll make it fit,” Logan assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth, a mix of your wetness and his precum between your mouths. You feel his cock at your pussy, “You ready?”
“I’m ready,” you nod desperately, letting him push his cock into your pussy. He pauses after a few inches, but you wrap your legs around his waist more tightly, and he goes deeper.
“Y’okay, baby? You can take it, right?”
You nod, unable to form words with your pussy stretched like this, a combination of pleasure and pain between your legs – but it’s infinitely more pleasure.
“That’s right. You’re my good girl, hm?” He kisses along your neck as he bottoms out, and you both moan when he’s got his cock fully stuffed inside you for the first time. He pulls out slightly when you whine at the stretch, but you scratch down his back to get his attention.
“I can take it,” you tell him, and you watch the look in his eyes darken.
He begins to fuck you, the pain subsiding more with every thrust into your wet pussy. You can barely take him, but it feels good. With your slight tiredness, you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine. 
You can’t believe that Logan – your super hot friend Logan who you’ve been fantasising about for so long – is fucking you. He not only feels the same way about you, but he’s been your secret admirer this entire time, taking hours and hours out of his day to make you smile. You’re the only one he wants.
And now he’s fucking you, fucking you well, and you feel so warm inside, not just from the sex but you feel warm in your heart, because of Logan’s care.
“You okay?” he asks, stroking a hand down your face when he notices you’re not entirely present. You nod happily, smiling up at him, and you can’t talk because you feel so good.
“Good, that’s good, bub, but let me know if it gets too much,” he says as he starts rubbing your clit, watches you nod while he’s fucking you so well, and he’s so big and so deep inside of you, “Squeezing me so tight, baby, feel so fucking good.”
You cum suddenly, letting the warm pleasure flow through your body as Logan keeps fucking you through it, rubbing your clit in just the right rhythm.
“That’s my girl, taking it so well,” he moans, breaths stuttering. You slump against the pillow after a few moments, with a soft smile on your face, and Logan pulls out.
“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he jerks his cock, and you sit up on your elbows immediately, looking him in the eyes with a smile as you stick out your tongue for him. He promised.
Logan moans when he cums, painting your face in his release, jerking himself off. He holds your head in place with his other hand, aiming for your mouth but you’re making no effort to catch his cum there.
“Such a pretty fucking face, princess, ’m cumming all over it,” he rasps, shooting more ropes of his cum all over your cheeks, jacking off onto your face.
You open your eyes when he’s done and breathing heavily, and you smile up at him. You open your mouth, taking the head of his cock between your lips to suck off the last drops of cum.
“Look at you, baby. Look so fucking pretty with my cum all over your gorgeous face.”
You hum, pulling your mouth off him and licking your lips, tasting his salty release. You brush a finger over your cheek, sucking it into your mouth to taste him more. Logan kisses you then, the flavour of himself mixing between your mouths.
He cleans you up gently, carefully wiping your face with a baby wipe and kissing every inch of your cheeks afterwards. You take his face to kiss him properly, and if you didn’t seem so tired Logan would be ready for round two immediately.
“Next time you could try to actually cum in my mouth,” you tease, making Logan grin.
“Sorry, baby. Got too excited. Couldn’t focus on asking you again if it was okay.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.
“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I liked it.”
Logan grins, “Oh I could tell you liked it, baby.” You lightly slap his chest as you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.
You cuddle for a while, not saying much because you don’t have to. You’ve both waited for this for so long that you’re just enjoying the moment, enjoying that it finally happened.
You slip out of his arms to sit on top of him. You’re in nothing but panties, the blanket bunching around your hips. You lean your hands against his chest as you tell him more about how much the drawings delighted you. And Logan cares, of course he cares to hear that, but he’s also just a man seeing the woman he’s into naked for the first time still. 
You become quiet when you realise that he’s not listening, and you giggle, “Distracted?”
Logan grins, “Just a little fucking bit, baby.” His eyes don’t leave your body, and you laugh as you bend down to kiss him. He grabs your ass, kneading the flesh. When you slightly sit up again, your tits are near his face, and he can’t help himself. He cups your breasts, playing with your nipples, making you hum.
“I should draw these,” he looks up at you, “Should draw every perfect fucking inch of you.”
“You wanna?” You adjust how you’re seated in his lap, and you feel that he’s already half hard under you again.
“Maybe after I’ve fucked you again.”
You smile, feeling yourself growing wetter on top of him.
“Tomorrow,” he continues, and your smile drops.
“But you’ve got to get more familiar with the inspiration, right? If you’re going to draw me.”
“That’s true, baby. But I think you’re too tired.”
You smile bashfully, ignoring how your eyelids were drooping shut just a few seconds ago, “Okay, but then I’ll have more energy for tomorrow.”
“That’s my girl,” he smiles, pulling you off him to cuddle you again. He tucks you in and kisses your head. 
You turn to your side, taking one of the framed drawings and looking at it for a while. 
Logan watches you looking at it, and the sparkle in your eyes never fails to make him feel all warm inside. “Now that you actually know about it, I don’t have to draw you from memory anymore. I can study my muse in peace.”
“Aww, I’m your muse?” you beam.
“Of course you are, princess. You’re the only reason I’m drawing again.”
“I love your drawings so much.”
Logan clears his throat, and looks at you. “Well, I love you. So, I think that went into them.”
You look at him, pouting and then kissing him. “I love you too,” you say into his mouth. He grins against your lips, pulling you closer to kiss you some more. He can barely grasp that you just said that, but he’ll have enough time soon to comprehend how lucky he is. 
For now, he takes your hand, and asks, “The question might be redundant now, but do you wanna be mine? Be my girlfriend?”
“I’m already yours.”
Logan grins, takes you in his arms, and you’re still cuddling when you’re both drifting off to a peaceful sleep.
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P.S. reblog with a comment and let me know your favourite moment/what you liked to get a drawing from Logan under your door tonight and a facial <33
gorgeous divider by @pommecita
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clrasecretdiary · 3 days ago
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You're just a little bit too much like me | Spencer Reid x Reader
Enemies to lovers | angsty fluff
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Word count: 1755
Warnings: Normal criminal minds type of violence, mention of guns and gunshots, age gap (Reader is about 25, and Spencer is in his late 30s)
Content: Spencer being an asshole because he doesn't know how to deal with his feelings and how you remind him of his older self, past Spencer trauma (implied but not directly mentioned), self-doubt, Post prison! Spence
It was a difficult situation, only your second week on the job and the first time you had to make that kind of decision. You went alone to a location where the suspect might have been at, all of your teammates were further away so, as reckless as you now recognize it was, you went there alone, instead of waiting like Spencer and Emily asked you too. You didn't want to lose your chance, there were more than 3 days on the field at stake here, you did not want to disappoint your colleagues and just stand there waiting like a dumb newbie, so you made the decision.
“I'm going in” You warn your teammates in the radio, not waiting for a response before storming into the unsubs house.
You bust the door open with your feet, storming into the house. As you look inside, you find the unsub taking his gun from a drawer. Thinking you had an advantage as his back was facing you, you rush to try and immobilize him, but somehow he managed to turn around and shoot you.
You growled in pain as your body dropped to the ground, just before you passed out completely you heard the sound of rushed footsteps. You heard two voices, one you recognized as Emily's going after the unsub, and the other as Reid's talking to you.
“Please don’t go to sleep, we need you awake” His voice was soothing, far different from the tone he always used with you ever since you joined the team this year, but he sounded so worried, and you really did try to stay awake for him, for your team, to show that you were okay and that they needed to go after what's important, the unsub, but you couldn't. The last thing you heard as your vision got black was him yelling at his radio, “Medical, we need medical right now”. And then, everything went black.
You are now back at your first day on the job. Still at your house, confused as to what outfit you should use, so anxious about being so young at the top team of profilers, even thought it was a last year internship you hoped to impress them enough that they would hire you officially for the team, so your anxiety was through the roof wondering whether you really deserved to be there (goddamn that impostor syndrome). But most of your worries went away when you met the team, you would never imagine that the best profilers in the FBI and maybe in the world would be such good, kind and even funny people. They all welcomed you, seeming excited to be able to work with you, except from one of them.
Doctor Spencer Reid, you had read about him and his genius mind, you even went to a couple of his lectures on forensic psychology, honestly? You were a fan, and you were so excited to meet and work with someone you looked up to. Unfortunately, he didn't seem as eager to meet his new coworker. He just stood there in the back, staring at you while you introduced yourself to the team, the most he did was mutter a “morning” when you sat next to him in the briefing room.
Never meet your heroes, they say.
Now, you're back at… Where are you again?
Your eyes begin to open, you're completely adrift until you finally begin to recognize the awful white light, and the coldness of the room. You're at the hospital, no idea as to how much time has passed.
Jennifer comes into your line of vision, holding your hand, “Hey, how are you feeling?” her voice is calm, as she watches you sit up in the hospital bed.
“I'm fine, I think... I didn't even realize what happened back then. Oh shit, did you guys catch him?” You abruptly try to sit up, remembering how you couldn't get the unsub when you got shot, guilt washing over you as you started to piece together what happened
“Hey slow down, Emily went after him and made the arrest, the victim was rescued. He shot you, but it just grazed you. You did lose a lot of blood, that's why you passed out, but the doctors say you'll be fine to leave today. Don't worry.” She says as the doctor comes in to do his final checking.
You just agree with your head, lost in your own thoughts. You knew it wasn't your fault that you got shot, but still you felt so stupid. The hurt of not being able to catch the unsub might've been even bigger than the one from your wound, all of them had been in even more difficult situations than you and made it out without so much as a scratch, and you couldn't even catch an unsub that was alone?
After a few hours, you were back on the jet, finally heading home. The guilty was still bothering you, and you even apologized for the mistake. Hotch just asked you to be more careful and follow instructions next time, but overall, the team seemed genuinely happy you were fine. Except, of course, for Spencer, who ever since you got in the jet was staring daggers at you.
Later, the jet finally landed, and you were eager to get home. You quickly went to the office to get a few of your things, Unfortunately, you and Spencer were now all alone in an uncomfortable silence waiting for the elevator.
“That was reckless” Spencer mutters under his breath
“I'm sorry, what?” You turn in your heels to face him, had you heard that right? Is that the first thing he's going to tell you after you just got shot?
“What you did on the case, was reckless and naive. You should've followed our instructions, you can't just do what you feel like doing” he's looking in your eye now, his voice coming out angry but with a hint of… worry?
“I'm sorry ok? I tried to do something, I just did not want to just stay there waiting while he could be doing god knows what inside that house” Your voice comes out more shaky than you wanted it to, the weight of the guilt pressing into your chest
“Still, it was reckless and stupid, you should never just storm into, alone, a place where an unsub might be, you never know what he might do to you, what might be waiting inside.” His gaze is cold, almost as if he's not actually here talking to you, but somewhere inside his head and his memories.
“Trust me, I know that. I regret my decision, but I wasn't doing what I felt like, I tried my best, Reid.” You turn to look directly in his eye. Yes you did something wrong, but you wouldn't let him out of all people talk like that to you “I might be the youngest on the team, the one with less experience but trust me… I'm not dumb, I earned my place here.” Your voice shaky when you said that last sentence, the insecurity you felt showing through your words.
Something in his gaze shifted after that, his expression became softer, almost sympathetic. “Listen, I'm not saying you're not qualified, I'm sorry if it came off like that, just be careful… That could have ended a lot worse, trust me I know”
“ I will” The air between you two less intimidating now but still heavy with tension, you two step in the elevator, the whole way to the garage an awkward silence until you two finally reach the bullpen's garage.  
Even thought you felt like now maybe he didn't absolutely want you gone from the team, you were still curious as to why he is so cold to you
“Sorry, I need to ask… Why do you hate me?” You turn to him, after finally gathering the courage to ask this question
“What do you mean, don't hate you”
“Yes you do, I mean you're not obligated to like me but since I joined, you didn't even meet me yet and just gave this cold look”
His eyebrows furrowed as he processed your words, clearly taken aback by your directness. He sighed, a hint of regret in his eyes, and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's not about you personally," he finally admitted, his voice softer than before.
“What is it about, then?”
He takes a deep breath before starting to talk “You're only 3 years older than me when I joined this team, I know what it does you, to your mind. I guess I just saw way too much of me, of who I used to be, in you, and it terrified me to be honest” His cold facade disappeared completely now, in its place a soft and genuine expression.
“So you were, and I'm sorry for the words, an asshole to me because you were worried?” You almost can't wrap your head around it, all this time you felt like one of your biggest references in the BAU hated you, but instead he was caring for you.
“Yes, I see how it comes out as “asshole” behavior, but my brain just went full shutdown when i saw you” His face turns slightly red when he notices what he just said – Freudian slip or just a bad choice of words? He doesn't's know for sure – His hand goes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck “I mean… for the resemblance, of how I acted when I had just joined, of course”
You give him a small smile, and just like that your side that has been a fan and read all of this man's articles comes back to life “Of course. Thank you for worrying but maybe instead of hating me you could… I don't know, if it's not too much of a bother of course, help me? I value your worries Doc, maybe you could help me not make the same mistakes you did”
He nodded, a hint of relief washing over his features. "I'd be happy to help," he said, a genuine smile finally breaking through. "I might not have all the answers, but I can definitely share what I've learned along the way."
“I'm happy to hear that, thanks, Doc. Reid” You wave at him as you begin walking over to your car.
“Hey, just call me Spencer” He smiles warmly at you
“See you tomorrow Spencer”
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henry7931 · 2 days ago
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Billy’s College Adventure Part 2
Samuel:
“Oh fuck!!!”
I scream out as Billy’s body pours out cum all over his slim chest. I stare down at cute dick I know have possession over.
That’s when the doorbell starts ringing. Well he’s quicker than I thought. I better get his body cleaned up. I quickly wipe off Billy’s chest and grab his shirt.
The doorbell rings over and over again.
“I’m coming! Just hold on a sec!”
I look through the peephole and my body waiting outside for me to open the door.
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“Who is it?,” I say just to mess with him.
“YOU KNOW WHO IT IS!”
“Hmmm… well I wasn’t expecting company. Not sure who you could be. Have we met before?”
“Dude! I’m in your body, you’re in mine. Can we just cut to the point and you let me in!”
“What’s the secret password?”
“Purple! Now let me in!”
“No… the password isn’t a ‘word.’ It’s a gesture…”
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“Hey it’s me! In your body, what’s up? Is this good enough?”
I bust out laughing, I thought he was going to flick me off.
I open up the door and Billy comes storming in.
“You know! It’s one thing for you to highjack my body! But it’s another for you to LITERALLY LOCK ME OUT,” says Billy who’s now in my (our I should say his) face.
“Oof! You got a spicy side! I like it!,” I say back with a big grin.
“Are got to be kidding me! You know what, I’ll fix this.”
I watch as Billy tries his hardest to switch us back. He tries for about a minute before giving up.
“Fuck! Why can’t I switch us back?”
“Oh Billy, you really don’t know the first thing about your powers do you? You’re a swapper. A swapper can’t un-swap somebody who’s also a swapper. Now you can swap others that I’ve swapped but you can’t swap us. Only I can now.”
I watch as Billy paced around the room struggling with the fact that I’m in control here.
“So I have a few questions,” he says to me.
“Sure!”
“First off, who the hell are you?!?”
“Well currently I’m you. But normally I’m Samuel, Sam for short.”
“Great. So you obviously are a—”
“Swapper.”
“Yes, you’re a swapper. Like me which I didn’t even know others existed outside of me.”
“Well other swappers are a little more quiet about their abilities. You just have yourself away earlier today.”
“I know, I figured that out pretty quick. This feels weird, normally it’s me hitting someone with the body swap surprise. Wait a minute, why did you swap that guy and that professor?”
“Great question! That Dufus really pissed me off. And I don’t really care for that professor so freaking him out too was just an added bonus.”
I watch as he tries his hardest to get a good read on me. It’s so refreshing to even talk about this someone who’s not my family. Granted the only other swapper in my family was my great uncle. He was kind enough to leave me a rule book.
“So you just did that to be petty?”
“Well yeah I guess, sounds terrible when you put it that way. But trust me that guy had it coming.”
“That seems pretty immature of you.”
“Oh so you’ve never just swapped with someone for the hell of it?”
“That’s not what I’m saying… I mean of course I have but it’s been years!”
“Geez Billy, didn’t know you set the roles for the swapper community.”
“Shut up, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying you really freaked those two out. Maybe like a simple prank could have worked.”
“Billy, I don’t think you understand how different the two of us are from the rest of the world. Most swapper do way worse things— sides I would have eventually swapped them back.”
Billy gets quiet for a second. I watch as he flops down on his couch. 
“So now that you kidnapped my body, what’s your plan here?,” says Billy.
“Finally! That was the question I’ve been waiting on. So I’ll be honest with you. I’ve personally never met another swapper outside of a family member who I really didn’t get to know. But he did leave me with a lot about our powers. And I want to start really using mine. But the kind of stuff I want to do is hard to do alone. So I guess in the nicest way I can say this… I’ll give you your body back as long as you join me in my exploration. Thoughts?”
“Ummm… is this going to be dangerous or potentially hurt someone?”
“Ahhhh no, at least not directly.”
“What do you mean by not directly?”
“Well I guess you can either find out and get your body back or just stay as me until I decide to swap us back. Which could be a very long time… years maybe.”
“Ugh fine! I’ll do whatever.”
“Cool!”
2 Hours Later…
Billy and I crashed out on his couch. It took him a bit to speak to me but once he got going he had so many questions about me. I let him ask me about my life, my family, etc. and he eventually started to open up about himself as well.
“So let me get this straight? You forced your babysitter to swap bodies with you like every time he came over??,” I ask him.
“Oh yeah! Honestly, I feel a little bad about it now because he’s so nice. Literally has no hard feelings. I was just a nightmare growing up. I could never stay in my body when I was young and trust me my dads tried hard! I even ran away a couple of times with his body. They of course found me every time. It sounds terrible but I really enjoyed being him.”
“That’s funny, I used to get really annoyed easy at family functions. I was a very emotional teen and my dad’s brother was a bit of a prick. Always thought he was jealous since he didn’t get the swapper trait and I did. I would literally swap everyone around just to piss all of them off. I’d even make sure everyone swapped with someone who I knew they would hate to be… oh this one time. I swapped my uncle and our dog for like a week. I got into sooo much trouble but it was so worth it.”
“Oh god not the dog!!”
“Yep! Even took my dog to the park. It was hilarious!”
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We went back and forth on our swap stories for hours. I door dashed us a bunch of food (on Billy’s card of course, I knew he would be cool with it the second I heard his parents are loaded lol).
“So do you have like any booze here?,” I asked him.
“Oh yeah! Want a glass of wine?”
“Sure!”
“Any preferences?”
“I mean I have your pallet so whatever you like lol.”
“Trueee, I guess I should asked for me haha.”
“Well I prefer red wines.”
“Gross!”
“You’re gonna like it I promise.”
We both crack open two bottles of wine and turn on a movie in the background. After a couple of glasses I started to feel a little frisky and maybe a little too open
“So I have a confession to make,” I say to him.
“Oh god, what is it?”
“It’s nothing bad! Oh god, I can’t believe I’m saying this.”
“Sit it out Sam!”
“Well before you got here, I um… I may have enjoyed your equipment.”
Billy sits up and for a second I thought he was going to be mad at me.
“Sam did you jerk off in my body?”
“Well… yeah.”
“Are you kidding? I haven’t even explored your body, especially since I just rushed over here. And you explore all of mine huh?”
“Yeah I don’t know, it’s been a minute since I’ve swapped with a cute guy. I may have just lost control.”
“Ohhhh so you think I’m cute?” he gives me a cheeky grin.
“Ugh, don’t get too excited.”
“Well, I think it’s only fair for me to have my turn,” he says with a bigger more cynical grin.
“What?!?”
“You heard me! I’m forced to be you so it’s only fair for me to have my fun too!”
“Fine!,” I say back. I feel a rush hit me. I’ve never been around a guy that’s in my body talking about using my body that way. It’s kinda hot.
“So what you’re gonna go to your room or do it right here?,” I say to him sarcastically.
He takes a big swig from the bottle of wine and pulls my shirt off.
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“You wanna come watch the show?,” he says winking at me.
Before I can answer Billy grabs my hand and pulls me up. I follow him to his bedroom.
Billy pulls down my sweatpants and hops onto his bed.
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“What do you think? Do you look… sexy?”
I roll my eyes at him.
“Okay… here is the big reveal!,” he says to me slowly lowering my underwear.
“1..2..3…”
Billy pulls my underwear down and my dick flies out. It’s completely hard.
“Nice!! 10 out 10 dick right here,” he says holding my dick.
“You gonna…”
“Slow down cowboy! It’s my turn to explore.”
I watch Billy gently fondle my goods. I can feel his dick pulsating— I can barely hide the fact that I’m just as turned on.
“So Sam, now it’s my turn to give you two options. You can hop into bed with me and we can full around or you can stand right in that exact spot with my hard on all night. Which one will it be?”
“Bed.”
“Good, now get over here!”
Billy nearly rips the clothes off of his body.
“Is it weird that I want to kiss you right now,” he says to me.
“Nah, just a little self love,” I say back.
We start making out and he’s such a great kisser. I feel him reach down and he starts fondling his dick.
“You’re so sexy,” I say to him.
He kiss my neck and says, “your body or me?”
“Your presence, your body. But you all around.”
“So are you, even though you’re a bit of a dick.”
“What turns you on the most Billy?,” I ask him.
He lifts up his head, “you really want to know?”
“Yeah I do.”
“Feet.”
Somehow, someway, I got even harder from the words that came out of his mouth.
“Is that weird?”
“Fuck no because that’s what turns me on too.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Nope! Your feet are so sexy…,” I say to him.
He looks at mine and grins.
“You have cute feet too.”
“Would it be weird if we…,” I say gesturing to his toes.
“Nope!”
I use Billys feet and wrap them around my dick. I start stroking back and forth. He lets out grunts in between.
I maneuver back and forth using his toes to grip.
“Don’t stop Sam! Fuckkkk,” he yells out.
I go faster and faster…
Billy is moaning sooo loud…
And then he screams out, “IM CUMMING!!!”
Cum squirts out on to his feet covering them.
He grabs his foot and does something so hot. I watch as he licks foot clean with my mouth.
“Shit… that was amazing…”
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thewertsearch · 15 hours ago
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@necrowyrm asked: happy new year!!! enjoy the last little bit of homestuck before act 6! Anonymous asked: You have NO IDEA how much I was looking forward to your reaction to this flash :D @teddy-bearer-of-bad-news asked: a very late congratulations from me for making it this far! i gotta say, saving CASCADE for new year's is probably the smartest thing i've heard all week. may your experience be nothing short of righteous, comrade Anonymous asked: Cascade … Even years latter knowing it almost by heart, every once in a while I will take a little quarter of an hour to rewatch it, Say what you want about Hussie but there is a good reason Homestuck became so iconic. @adeptarcanist asked: The leadup to Cascade was honestly my favorite sequence in Homestuck, and maybe one of my favorites in any media ever? The way the narrative splits apart into all of the different scenes swirling in towards the critical moment, both advancing main plots and finding time to spend a moment of melancholy with characters who’d been left behind (The Jaspers and Nepeta scene :( )… it’s such a strong narrative device, and the tone it generates is impeccable. @calamitascalliope asked: I literally watched the flash again, and it still gives me chills every single time. Welcome to your post-Cascade life. You won't be able to think about anything the same ever again @iris-in-the-dark-world asked: "she looks so cool… but she’s so tragic… but she looks so cool…" has become a brainworm for me. i too love the handmaid's design btw, cascade time has been i think the most anticipated non-personal event of the entire year for me. i'm so excited @publicuniversalworstie asked: I want you to know that I also opened Cascade and started watching with you right after I saw your "oh my god it has chapters" ask, and I finished just as you posted "I will never be the same" !! And I bet lots of other people did too <3 so it's like we all watched it together!!!! Happy New Year and thank you for liveblogging!!!! It's been a pleasure!(and will continue to be) @krixwell asked: I would like you to know that your "Right, we're good to go!" and "oh my god it has chapters" posts were posted right as I was outside watching midnight fireworks ring in 2025 for the Central European timezone. Happy new year! @captorations asked:
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hey remember when rose just up and fucking said that. anyway congrats on reaching cascade! it absolutely wrecked me back in the day, i think i stared at those flaming curtains for a solid ten minutes as my brain permanently reconfigured. the first few notes of the track alone still give shivers. getting your reaction to cascade was a wonderful birthday present. (speaking of getting older: aradia 🤝 dulcinea also got that "distressingly short lifespan only to die early anyway" story thread going on. the parallels are paralleling.) anyway happy new year and congrats you are… slightly less than halfway done with homestuck. have fun!
Hey, guys. Cascade was so fucking good.
Like, there's really no competition; this is the best Flash page in the comic thus far. Peak music, peak animation, and absolutely a peak narrative. It tied up mountains of plot threads, providing complete answer to questions we're been asking for literally thousands of pages. It completed over a dozen arcs, both big and small. It made me gasp three times in fourteen minutes. It let Jade become a furry.
11/10, and I'm glad people had as much fun here as I did on New Year's Eve. Happy 2025, and happy Act 6!
@morganwick asked: Sally, predicting Cascade: "I have approximate knowledge of many things." @morganwick asked: "You literally have the whole world in the palm of your hands." -Sally to Jadesprite, December 16, 2024 (You might also want to reread post/770701212350857216 in light of recent developments.)
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Hah!
I mean, based on her powerset, it made sense that Jadesprite would do something like this eventually, but it's pretty funny that she did it more or less immediately.
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And in the end, CD really was a tricky little bastard. We'll definitely need to keep a closer eye on him, next time around.
Anonymous asked: Take a moment to consider that if anyone were to use the Homestuck website as it stands now instead of the Collection program, Cascade would have been presented in the YouTube player in Standard Definition, artifacted to hell, with a clear boundary showing the dimensions of the video from the very start. Preservation is so important.
Jeez, you're not kidding. The 1080p is fine, I guess, but it certainly doesn't hit like the Flash version does, especially with its lack of moving panels.
I know something had to change when Flash kicked the bucket, but surely there was a better way to preserve the video's soul.
Anonymous asked: to give you some of an idea of what homestuck fandom looked like during this time period, im cribbing from a very popular homestuck post: “first, this upd8 was something that we had been waiting for for WEEKS. A literally unprecedented wait period at the time. We were used to suckling at the teat of daily updates, a constant stream of conversation and plot twists and buildup, and as EOA5, we were finally going to figure out what all these countdowns and plot threads and disconnected elements were building up for. And when the progress bar reached 100%, and when the page FINALLY loaded on 10/25/11, it was chaos. This was 2011, a primetime peak point and growth period of Homestuck fan density.” (…) “MSPA crashed, as it had started to during the last few big [S] updates. Hussie had already bought new servers in advance, but even when allegedly thousands of dollars were spent it couldn't handle the accidental DDOS attack of Homestuck fans. People were up all night waiting for this upd8, the curiosity was killing me. I know at some point he was receiving at least 1 million unique visitors per day to his site [correction: according to Hussie’s tumblr, upwards of 2 million during this time], and even though Hussie had foreseen such traffic and thusly hosted [S] Cascade on Newgrounds, a dedicated video streaming site, Newgrounds was similarly unprepared for the sheer amount of people frantically mashing the play and refresh buttons, and also crashed. Immediately. MSPA and Newgrounds crashed definitively for at least two nights in a row” (…) “Andrew Hussie has gone on record to say this was one of the few times he thought Homestuck wasn’t worth it, because the sheer unbelievable cost (was it $10,000?) [correction: according to Hussie’s tumblr, it looked like it was going to cost $100,000 to keep [S] Cascade up for several days] of servers and the chaos of no one able to see the upd8 and crashing nearly every site after. He was tweeting during the whole debacle, stating he was reluctant to put it up on Youtube because of all the moving elements of the flash, and style, and how youtube degraded the quality of the file size, and how he tried to scratch out buffer time and pauses by putting periods of silence between each section of the 14 minute upd8, the longest upd8 yet” “So after Newgrounds patooted, he didn’t put it on youtube and instead put up the entire flash file on Megaupload, where it could be downloaded in it’s entirety to be watched. UNFORTUNATELY, Megaupload also crashed very quickly, which Hussie felt much headache over. But before that happened I managed to get the file, since I happened to be up very early that night! Next it was on dropbox, which didn’t crash but had “link unavailable” on and off. ”Spoilers were flying everywhere, people didn’t understand everything that had happened, and by the time the timeline of events in and out of [S] Cascade was all straightened out, people became even MORE hype. Like this whole thing lasted at least four days, and on top of that, the upd8 was good. Fandom exploded.” it is impossible to quantify the experience. The fact hussie was going to have to fork over A HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS to host it is crazy. I am never going to be over it.
Cascade's complete obliteration of the Flash-hosting internet says a lot about huge Homestuck truly was - but I think an even bigger indicator of the comic's success is the fact that Hussie dropped literally thousands of dollars on server upgrades to host the thing. That's not an investment you make unless you're expecting some serious returns.
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ramshacklefey · 3 days ago
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One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich and The Things They Carried rewired parts of my brain. The Odyssey was a real treat. (Especially when some of my classmates who found the language rather opaque started gathering around me at morning homeroom to hear my retellings of last night's reading assignment.)
But I know some of you probably have or had a miserable time in English class, and that may have been partly because your school didn't properly prepare you for reading the books ahead of time, so you were just totally at sea all the way through.
If that's the case, here are some tips for getting more enjoyment out of a book you're struggling with!
Look up summaries of individual chapters (CliffsNotes usually has these). Then go back and read them. Having an idea of what's happening might help you follow along with language or writing styles that you're struggling with.
Let yourself skim over particular passages you're baffled by and latch onto the ones that make sense. Finding points that you can follow might help you make sense of the trickier ones by providing context.
If you don't understand a character's motivations, especially in older books and books that take place in a foreign country, it might be because you're missing context. That's okay, and your teacher isn't expecting you to have encyclopedic knowledge of the historical and cultural context for a book.
But also, even in the most unfamiliar circumstances, you can look for things that make sense to you. The characters are still people, and regardless of context, people are still people.
But also, sometimes you just can't relate to the character. That's ok. "Well I would never ____" Yes, but this person did. And here's why. In the world they live in, it made sense or it was the only thing they could do. And there are people in real life who do that. Now you've seen a little bit of why.
You don't have to like all the characters. Some characters (even the protagonists) you're supposed to hate. Sometimes that's because the author is saying, "This bastard is fucked up, but do you see how he got that way?" Sometimes it's, "This bitch made every wrong choice possible, but damn if it didn't make some wild drama."
Remember that sometimes the author may not explain exactly why something happens because it's supposed to be a bit of a mystery at first! Keep reading and see if it gets explained later!
Look up words in the dictionary!!
If you're having trouble keeping a lot of characters in your head, make a cast list. "John is Mary's brother and he's a bit of a dick."
It's okay if there are books you simply do not vibe with. Give them a fair shake, but really, even the kids who love English class are gonna have books they hate. I despised a few of the books I read for school. But remember that struggling with a book and not liking it aren't the same thing!
And for the love of everything holy. Ask. Your. Teacher. Questions. Write them down while you're reading and ask! If you're scared to ask in class, talk to them at another time! But I can guarantee that if you didn't understand something, some of your classmates didn't either. If your teacher is remotely competent, they'll be delighted to answer your questions.
And there are no questions too simple to ask in class!! "Why did this character do this thing?" "What's up with this sentence?" "I tried reading this, and here's what I think the events of this chapter were. Is that really what happened?" "What the heck is a ____?" "Why was this bit in here? It doesn't seem like it's important to the plot." "How do we know that ____ theme is in here?"
Yes, there are themes and symbols and motifs and whatever else in books. Your teacher isn't just making it up. People tell stories for a reason. The author is trying to communicate something to you. "Well why didn't they just say that?" Because saying it in a story shows you something about it. I can tell you, "Love isn't always enough to save you." or I can show you that by telling you a story about two people who fall in love and then get their shit wrecked. I can tell you, "This war happened and it was awful," or I can show you the people who were in it and what it did to them. I can tell you, "The government is a corrupt pile of festering feces," or I can show you what might happen if we keep going on the path we're on.
And you might not agree! You can say, "No, it wouldn't happen like that." You can say, "But this war was worth it because it resulted in this." You can say, "Actually, this particular social outcome seems pretty rad to me." That's okay because stories are a conversation, not the word of God from on high. But again, give the author a fair shake.
The most important thing is that you don't just give up if you're struggling. You're in school to learn! So accept that there are things you don't already know.
I straight up do not trust you if you did not enjoy a single book you had to read for English class. I know they assigned some real stuffy stinkers and the curriculum varies across districts but not one? Not The Outsiders? Not The Picture of Dorian Gray? Not Fahrenheit 451? Not even Frankenstein? Damn. That’s crazy.
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markrosewater · 2 days ago
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hi Mark! i noticed in "#1202: Psychology" you didn't make any mention of the two aesthetic profiles Vorthos and Mel, and i was wondering whether any of the decisions being made specifically take them into consideration. like i ask this because one of the biggest changes to Magic this year (UB coming to standard) is something Vorthos care the most about but it seems like nothing has been done to directly address them as an audience
The aesthetic profiles aren't rooted in psychology like the psychographics, so that's why I didn't touch upon them in the psychology podcast. I'll probably do another aesthetics podcast one day (I did one as part of my "20 Lessons" series) and I'll talk about them there.
The concept of Vorthos, at its core, is about appreciating the creative elements of card design above all else. Many Vorthos adore Universes Beyond because we've done a very good job at capturing the various properties in Magic card design form.
But yes, there's a subgroup of Vorthoses that care specifically about Magic's creative world building, characters, and story. We're spending a lot of time and energy to make sure the products set in the Magic multiverse are doing a good job of representing it. 2024 had many successes (Bloomburrow, Duskmourn, and Foundations) in this area, but also some failures (Murders at Karlov Manor and Outlaws of Thunder Junction). The creative team is trying to learn from them and lean more towards the type of creative execution that make this group of Vorthoses happy.
As I've been saying a lot, Magic excels at being additive, but has issues with being subtractive. If you want cool Magic settings and characters and stories, we can and will continue to do that. If you want us to stop doing non-Magic settings, characters, and stories, I can't help you there. There's a big audience that enjoys that and so we're making it for them.
I do hear that there are players that are sad that non-Magic elements will mix in gameplay with Magic elements. There will be many limited formats, and a few constructed formats (like Cube or Premodern) where you can avoid that if it's important to you, but the number of players who will only play with in-Multiverse components is low enough that it's not something we're focusing on in the main sanctioned formats.
It's not that I'm not sympathetic. Go back ten years and I was one of you. I fought hard against non-Magic elements for many years. What finally swayed me was seeing how much I enjoyed it when a license that I truly loved got brought to Magic. There's something so exciting, so glee producing about combining two loves, that I became a convert. I want to make people as happy as I was made.
I know this isn't the answer you want to hear. I try to use this blog to be as honest with all of you as I can. Magic keeps changing and evolving because we try to do things that players will love, and there are a lot of players that truly love Universes Beyond.
That said, we're not abandoning in-Multiverse Magic. We're still making three sets a year (the standard for the majority of Magic's life), and we're truly taking to heart the lessons of 2024 (more worlds that are our carefully crafted take on the tropes and less just a place to show them off). Making the Magic multiverse the most compelling and exciting thing possible is still our goal, and there are a lot of people working really hard to continue to do that.
I think the future is bright for the Vorthoses, but I truly understand why some of you are sad with Universes Beyond coming to Standard.
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zuppizup · 2 days ago
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Rayllum, 10 babies and Xadian family planning
I’m trying to post the next chapter of Dark Alternative, but AO3 is very wonky, so you’re going to be subjected to my rambling thoughts on my new WIP for Work in Progress Wednesday.
So, over my vacation, I’ve been plagued by post-season 7 fanfic ideas. Short fics, obviously. No more than three chapters, as usual.
What’s got me intrigued right now, is how the continent of Xadia, or at least, a select group of people, will manage with living with the knowledge that Aaravos, in some form, is coming back in seven years. How would that affect politics and society, as well as the individual characters and the choices they make knowing that?
The regular folks would struggle to miss that whole eternal darkness and dead creatures thing that happened, but what do they know about exactly what went down?
And what do they know about what’s to come?
You know me, I’m a Rayllum person, so pretty much any fic of mine is a Rayllum fic, and this current idea is focused on how this particular threat affects the next stage of their lives.
Without a doubt, when we last saw Rayllum they were totally committed to each other and are fully ride or die… but how would that devotion relate to their future, in particular, the subject of children?
Now, I’m an angster in my deep dark heart, so while I’m sure many people could conceive of a fic where Rayllum are secure in their ability to defeat Aaravos come round two, that ain’t where my brain was ever going to go.
Rayllum are in love and clearly want a future together. Callum was openly planning a quaint little one in the Silvergrove before they were rudely interrupted by the whole end of the world dealio.
So, where does that leave them now (in my angsty reality anyway)?
In their youth, they both leaned into their more paranoid natures (Rayla leaving without Callum in TTM and Callum getting physical with Soren in season 4), and while they’ve both grown and matured since then, would such a threat as the world ending be enough to bring that paranoia right on back?
Which leaves me with my current fic planning conundrum.
Assuming Rayllum decided to forego the whole having kids thing until Aaravos is imprisoned again, how likely is it that they could plan when to have a family.
I’ve seen people say that the world of The Dragon Prince is in a medieval setting, and so people had children younger then, which, aside from not being the entire story, doesn’t feel like it really applies to a world with magic and dragons, a world that lacks the sexism and gender roles that are also associated with medieval times or other more grounded works set then.
Additionally, looking at canon, I think it could be reasonably argued that some form of birth control is readily available in the setting. In fact, I think it’s likely multiple forms of birth control exist in the world of The Dragon Prince.
From humans to elves, we don’t see large families normally associated with the inability to plan a family via the use of effective birth control. The “largest” family we see are the Sunfire monarchs, with three children. Viren and Lissa had two children only. Sarai may well have had more children had she lived, but Rayla’s parents spent multiple years at the Storm Spire and she remained an only child.
I can’t imagine there’s much in the way of entertainment at the Storm Spire either. Sure, they could abstain or get creative, but oof, hasn’t enough been asked of them?
Even looking at prior generations, we do not see large families. Given the closeness in ages of the siblings we know of, it also seems unlikely to me that children were lost in childbirth or to childhood illnesses.
To me, it seems far more likely that family planning is active in Xadia and would be a tool Callum and Rayla could exercise.
Clearly, no birth control is infallible (or I guess it can be, magic and all) and I assume Miyana’s twins were unplanned.
Personally, I head canon Rayla herself was an oopsie baby in order to further explain the complications of her parents being called away to join the Dragon Guard.
Where am I going with this? I don’t even know anymore.
I suppose, to me, it’s not a foregone conclusion that in seven years Rayllum would have a kid (or indeed multiple). The setting of the world doesn’t imply that it’s particularly difficult to prevent pregnancy. In fact, the small families imply to me that family planning is a cultural norm among elves and humans.
Faced with the imminent threat of Aaravos’ return, would Rayllum plan to start a family? Certainly, people put off having children for far lesser reasons.
We also don’t know how using dark magic, even in that limited capacity, has affected Callum and the potential for him to get possessed again. It was clearly enough to physically mark him, but does that go deeper?
Would imprisoning Aaravos once again result in an inevitable possession?
Not great when Dad gets taken over and abandons the family.
Or worse, Mum has to take him out.
Angsty though!
As usual, I’ll be doing my own thing in my fics, but I’m interested to see where Arc 3 goes with this (optimistically assuming we get it). There are a lot of factors at play to explain why we might see a lot of the characters in a state of stasis. Seven years isn’t that long when you’re facing the world ending, after all. Particularly when you’re likely to play a very active part in trying to stop that returning apocalypse.
So, which way to go? I see the angst potential in both.
On one hand, you’ve got the pain and desperation of protecting your kid from a returned Aaravos, or perhaps worse, a possessed Dad.
But on the other, you’ve got two people who likely want to take the next steps in their lives, but feel the pressure of a ticking bomb haunting them and potentially preventing them from moving forward.
Either way, bring on the pain.
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wickjump · 2 days ago
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“respect the characters” i am very sure they don’t care. i am extremely very definitely sure that they do not give a fuck. how do i know this? they are not real. thank you
i hope everyone who preaches about how the only way to enjoy fandom spaces (especially in this fandom) is by strictly abiding by canon interpretations and thinks everyone else is ruining fandom spaces remembers that uwu baby cutesy dream is not in fact fanon but very much so how dream is canonically portrayed so if you want to stick strictly to canon and villainize fanon you’re gonna have to make that guy fucking insufferable and infantilized to hell and back sorry. it’s canon and if you do anything else you don’t actually deserve to be in the fandom that’s just how it works i guess
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backseatsoldier · 2 days ago
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"Broken", Not Stupid - 16: I Am Broken
Pairing: alpha!Simon "Ghost" Riley x unusual omega!OC (13)
CW: Omegaverse; dehumanization; beginnings of an anxiety attack, though it's not labeled as such; some negative self-talk (13)
Author's Note: Ok... one more then we'll get into 13 starting to spill the beans. She'll be ok - Simon's there now! I think I'm going to pause on 13's story for a bit, though. I've got things brewing about other OCs so I'm gonna get started on their stories uwu <3
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When I open my eyes again... my head is still on Simon's lap. I adjust carefully so I can look up at him. His eyes are closed and his head is resting on the back of the couch.
"Simon," I call to him softly. "Hey," I say a bit louder and poke the center of his chest.
His lashes flutter and he opens his eyes. With a groan, he tilts his head to look down at me.
"What's wrong?" he asks in a voice rough with sleep.
"The way you're sleeping, mostly. C'mon. We should both go to bed."
As I sit up Simon's hand snakes around my waist, but over his blanket.
"No," he mumbles, "stay here."
What the hell is he on about? Damn, he needs more sleep.
"Simon," I call to him louder. "Wake up."
I reach out and gently poke his cheek through his mask. His eyes open wide at the contact and his breathing gets heavier. Slowly, with a shocked expression of my own, I slowly pull my hand away from his face.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to... freak you out. You ok?" I ask with a gentle voice.
"Fine," he says, shaking his head then letting out a heavy sigh. "Just not used to people touching my face."
"Right. Fair enough," I agree then get up from the couch to make my way to my room.
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The smell of pancakes cooking wakes me in the morning. As I roll to get out of bed, though, I nearly roll on to Selene. She yawns at my sudden intrusion then gets up to stretch.
"Good morning to you too." I smile at her then run my hand over her back and up her tail, causing a small chirp to leave her. "I smell pancakes... but do you think your dad is making more bacon too?"
She blinks slowly at me in response and I give her a quiet laugh then truly make my way out of bed. When I reach the kitchen I pause in the archway for a moment.
Johnny's here. Making breakfast. And Simon's nowhere to be seen.
"Lass! Good morning! Simon had to run to grab a few things to make sure all five of us would be fed properly today," he chuckles then yawns. "I knew he'd call me over early so I showed up a few hours early. Hope you don't mind?"
"Not my house," I shrug and step up to the counter I continue to sit on while Simon cooks.
"Isn't it?" Johnny asks with a smile as his focus returns to the pancakes.
Unsure what he means by that, I hop on the counter and change the subject.
"So... what are the other two like?"
"Other two? Oh, you mean Cap and Kyle? Cap's a bit of a, uh," he leans towards me, like he's sharing a secret, "workaholic. I'll have to make some strong coffee all day to make sure he stays awake," he chuckles then straightens. "Kyle is a secret trouble maker, but he's a sweet heart. Would adopt and love all the kittens in the world, if given the chance, I think."
"What do you mean 'secret trouble maker'?" I push with an eyebrow raised.
"He's not as open about his chaotic nature as I am," Johnny says with a wink.
I nod, accepting his answer and glance around the kitchen. The kitchen feels... weird... without Simon here.
"Missing him?" Johnny asks suddenly with his eyes on the pancakes but a knowing smile on his face.
"Who?"
"Your alpha. Who else?" he asks with a laugh.
"My... hm. Well, is he, though? We haven't really... discussed any of that," I admit with a slight frown.
"You knew who I meant, though." He's got this smug look on his face, like he's just outwitted someone.
"Johnny, besides you, Simon's the only person I've actually met in the area," I remind him flatly.
Johnny's smug looks falters.
"True. Didn't think about that. I wanna go back to what you said, though. Haven't discussed what?"
"Him officially being my alpha and all that. I tried to initiate the conversation last night but I mentioned-"
My mouth snaps shut, remembering Simon's reaction to how Salvation handled the heats of the omegas they care for.
"I mentioned some things about Salvation and heats, but he... didn't take it well. Sliced his finger and just seemed so angry," I explain with a frown. "After we cleaned up the cut and I banaged it, he told me that all three of you would be here today. That all of you would listen to my story."
He stays silent for a while, removing pancakes from the pan and adding new batter.
"I won't ask for specifics. I'm sure I'll hear about it at some point, but, lass." He turns to me fully. The expression on his face reminds me of a puppy. "We're here for you. All of us - me, Cap, Kyle, and epsecially Simon. And there will be more on that list when you're ready."
Part of me wants to argue, but the rest of me just can't deny the adorable face he's making. So I sigh and nod my head.
"I appreciate it. I don't understand why that needs to be said, but I do appreciate it," I tell him softly and pick at the hem of the shirt of Simon's that I wore to bed last night.
"What's wrong, 13?" Simon says from the front door.
I can't see him and I can't smell him, but that was definitely his voice. Johnny smiles at me and nods in that direction so I slide off the counter and make my way to the front door.
There's multiple grocery bags hanging off of both of Simon's arms and I have to supress a laugh at the sight of him.
"What's wrong?" he asks again, voice serious.
"Nothing. Was just talking to Johnny. Let me take a few bags," I insist as I reach for his left arm.
"It'll put me off balance. I've got it," he says as he pulls his arm away. "Thank you, though," he adds like it's an after thought.
Then he shoos me to the living room as he makes his way to the kitchen. When he's done putting away the groceries, he joins me.
"Why did you think something was wrong?" I ask immediately from underneath the blanket he let me use last night.
"I could smell your distress," he says simply as he motions for me to come closer.
Confused, I slide closer and lay on my back with my head on his lap.
"You could... smell- I wasn't distressed, though." I frown up at him as his hand begins smoothing my hair back.
"You can't smell anything. Can you?" he asks softly.
"I can smell the pancakes just fine."
"I mean others' scents. You can't smell others. At least not well."
I consider what he's asking. It took being right up to him or wearing his clothes for me to know what he smelled like. Cinnamon and cedar, I can smell it now. But I don't know what Johnny smells like. And I couldn't tell him what anyone else smells like either.
"13," he calls to me and gently turns my head so I look directly at him. "What's going through your head?"
"I'm broken," I say softly. "I always knew I was, but... you're right. I can't smell anyone. I can only smell you if I'm close, like right now, or wearing something that you give me. I don't know what Johnny smells like-"
"Take a deep breath. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Do it with me," he instructs and begins doing so.
My eyes prick with tears but I follow his lead. When my eyes no longer hurt and my chest doesn't feel like there's cement in it, he speaks again.
"You're not broken, sweetheart. You've just been through things; a lot of things, I'm sure. Those things have not been kind to you. But I'm here to help you now. I'm here," he assures me, his hand still gently gliding over my hair. "Why you don't take a nap while we wait for the others? I'll stay right here with you, if you want."
His offer is tempting, but doesn't he have things he needs to do before Kyle and 'Cap' arrive?
"I think I'd rather shower then just... exist on the couch for a while. Until they get here. Selene can keep me company when I come back out."
Simon studies me for a moment and lets out a heavy breath.
"Alright, but if I detect even a hint of your distress, I'm either kicking down whichever door or coming back out here and-"
"Are you about to threaten me, the distressed omega?" I ask with a small smile.
"Yes," he nods. "I'm threatening you with being held and comforted."
Oh. That's... a different feeling. Set that aside for later, though...
For now I just get up, leaving the balnket on the couch, and make my way back to my room to gather clothes. I catch a glimpse of Johnny in the kitchen on my way through the house. He looks... so sad, but his focus is on the pancakes.
What I went through when I was with Salvation... was it really that bad?
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Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | Part One
Tag List: @lucienofthelakes @lostintransist @demothers-empty-blog @scaredyspooks @tessakate @one-really-annoying-tree-rat @nerdyphantomtheorist @gazsluckyhat @peanutismynickname @jeanzoriley-cod
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cosmerelists · 15 hours ago
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Did I Achieve my Earnest Hopes & Dreams for Wind and Truth?
The night before Wind and Truth came out, I wrote up a list of things I was hoping to have happen (or not happen) in that book. Now that it's a month later and I've finished it, how much of what I wanted did I get?
[Obviously, big big spoilers for Wind & Truth!]
Kaladin lives. WELL... He is...alive. Immortal, really. But all of his friends think he's dead, since he left his body behind when he became a Herald. He did not get to meet with up Adolin & Shallan for drinks like he promised. That's more what I was hoping for...but I'll take this. He IS alive.
Kaladin lives and is happy. WELL... I actually think he's...somewhat happy? He swore the Fifth Ideal. He's with Syl. He's in a Tranquil Mind Palace giving therapy to the Heralds. It does seem like it might get a bit...lonely? But it did not end with him broken or anything like that, so again...I'll take this. He's not unhappy.
There's a really cool Kaladin fight. Maybe two. Honestly, I think we had a sad lack of cool Kaladin fights. I understand that this book was all about Kaladin figuring out who he is without the spear, and I respect that...but I did miss there being some kind of Grand Kaladin Entrance After Which He Kicks Serious Butt. The only fight we got was him vs. Nale, which was...okay, but was solved ultimately via Flute and Therapy and not Cool Fighting Moves. I'm a somewhat simple soul. I missed having Cool Fighting Moves.
Kaladin & Szeth have to fight someone together. Not really. :( Not in the "back-to-back facing off against a hundred foes" that I was picturing, at least.
Leshwi has a significant role. Leshwi was there, but mostly walking and complaining about having to walk now. Again, I was hoping for more Cool Fighting Leshwi, which we didn't get, but I did like that we at least got some scenes with her.
There's a really cool Leshwi fight. Sadly, not so much. Her small amount of fighting was off-screen.
Adolin is NOT Odium's champion. He sure wasn't!
Adolin lives. He did! I think the Adolin story was one of my favorites, to be honest. Him becoming Unoathed was so cool.
Shallan lives (I'm not super worried about her for whatever reason but I couldn't just include two of the three, you know?) She did! ...Although trapped in Shadesmar but NOT able to world jump, which feels like the worst of both worlds. As soon as she got trapped I was like "Hell yeah Shallan worldhopper," but it doesn't seem like it's going that way, unfortunately.
Rlain & Renarin romance. Hell yeah! The Rlain & Renarin romance throughout this was super cute.
Rlain & Renarin romance that isn't like tragic or awkward or anything. I request warm & fuzzy plz. Yes! I like that it wasn't super angsty or anything. They both realized that they liked each other pretty quickly and then just kept making eyes at each other.
Shallan & Thaidakar meet. Well, they TALKED, so I'll take that!
MeLaan cameo. Well, as @archmage236 pointed out at the time, this was impossible since Mistborn Era 2 is after Stormlight. And there were no time travel shenanigans either. We DID get a kandra...but it was Ulaam, and not a cool kandra spy reveal.
...I notice the MeLaan cameo. I didn't but I'm pretty sure it's not my bad this time.
Rock returns or at least is in the book somehow. There was NO Rock! I was genuinely sad about that.
Kaladin hits his head on a doorframe in Shinovar. But not as sad as I was about Kaladin not bonking his head on ANYTHING. A tragic missed opportunity.
Navani invents something cool. You know...I don't think she did, unless you count the weird cocoon thing at the end. But she did figure out how to navigate through the Spiritual Realm, which was a cool Navani Science Moment so I'm counting it.
Navani thinks about Raboniel. I think maybe briefly?
We get the third Bondsmith. We did not! And now that Honor is (actually) dead, I feel like we won't? That's too bad, honestly.
The third Bondsmith isn't human. I suppose technically I got my wish here, yeah.
We find out that there are more than five Radiant oaths (pet theory that I want to be right about) Well I'm not right YET, but...come on! Honor even said he hates the number 5! How could that be the number of oaths?? It just doesn't make sense. It would be like there only being 11 metals or something.
Hemalurgy gets used.....I know that would be bad but I think it would be interesting. Hell yeah. It didn't have a huge role but I was actually delighted that Moash got Marshed.
Hemalurgy doesn't get used on anyone I care about!! I mean...I do care about Moash but I think he was a good choice for this. Future Herald Kaladin vs. Hemalurgic Moash battle, one assumes?
Shallan doesn't incorporate Radiant. :(
Maya cure. Yeah, like I said, I thought Adolin's arc--and by extension, Maya and the other Deadeyes' arc--was great! Maya was so butch and I love what she created with Adolin.
The theory that Shallan's mother was a Herald is confirmed. I think it's a cool theory. Oh wow was it ever! The chills I got when Shallan said, "She was at my wedding."
Bondsmith powers used for a fight. I think it would be cool. Sadly, no. We never really did get to see how they'd be used in combat.
Satisfying Sanderlanche. I don't think it was the Greatest Sanderlanche of All Time or anything, but I was fully captivated (and yes, the biggest downside for me was that it was more Emotions and Philosophy than Cool Fights with Swords. I'm a simple woman).
Kaladin meets a sheep. Or a dog. Or BOTH. I CAN'T BELIEVE SANDERSON CANONIZED NO DOGS AT ALL. Tragic. A true blow. And Kaladin only saw sheep from a distance.
I don't cry too hard... I actually did not. I teared up at actually two parts: when Maya came with all of the Deadeyes and when Kaladin decided to take Szeth's place as the Herald. (But honestly, I don't cry at books very often, so maybe that's on me.)
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waynes-multiverse · 2 hours ago
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Aww, glad you enjoyed the first part of this! I tried to capture him as best as I could. I definitely had too much fun with all the twists 😂🤍
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(A hot tub in the back, huh? Wayne, stop giving me ideas for ESC one-shots. 🥵🫠)
Yesssss, girl! Please write that!!! 🥵🔥🫠
Ooh yep! You really picked up on aspects of Russell's personality that I felt inherently when I was watching (studying) him, but hadn't consciously put into words. 👌🏽
He's for sure a little enigma 😏 (and a little shit lol) I found it interesting when I read the books that he was described as reclusive, and even though he comes off as charming and quirky in the show, I still get the feeling he's hiding the biggest stuff underneath the surface... I really wanted to showcase that his behavior and words don't always match his feelings and thoughts 👀
It's also so interesting (and crazy) how little Russ and Colter know about each other now as men. There's got to be shades of who they were when they were younger, but it's bittersweet in a sense. And now they're both trying to suss each other out like lone wolves that are kinda sorta friends. 😂
Yesss!!! That's always something I wanted the show to address, so I had to weave it in there! 😂 And considering they grew up pretty isolated and only had each other, it made sense to me they would've had a pretty close relationship as children (kinda like Sam and Dean if they'd ever been ripped apart for 20+ years 🥲)
But naturally, they wouldn't trust one another fully after all this time. I had a lot of fun writing their suspicion mixed in with brotherly banter 🤓
Okay, this whole thing with the reader is fascinating. Because why does he have to go through all this trouble to find her if they've been a thing for 10...12...14...20-something years?! (Love how the number in Russell's "memory" just kept getting longer. 🤣🤣)
Russell giving vague estimates of numbers actually became a running gag lol I used it first in the prequel before sprinkling it in here too 😂😂
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Not the "we were on a break" gif 🤣🤣 (But the topic of how broken up they really were comes up in the next part lmao)
I'm full of questions, but I know you have a brilliant master plan for all of this. I've noticed this about the most recent stories you've created, but you're so very good at writing these law enforcement/military men paired with heroines that share their world, almost the "same foxhole" type of deal. Except for that his heroine partners usually outrank him. 😏
Haha thanks!! I honestly think I get hung up too much on details and then it escalates into a monstrosity 😂
And you already now I love all things SVU, crime etc. A year ago, I then got super into spy/CIA novels and media (Homeland, The Americans etc.), so I've been dreaming to write something like this for ages and jumped on the chance with Russell's background 🤓
Lol yes they always outrank him, don't they? I might go with the "tough love" approach a little too much, but I always feel like the Beaus, Deans, Soldier Boys, and Russells of this world need that 😂🫶
Also something about a little submission in a strong guy is a turn-on... 🫠
I tend to go the opposite route, partly because I'm interested in the dynamic between these kinds of men and a "civilian," but also because I don't think I'd be able to do the "same foxhole" trope justice. So that's something I really admire about you as a writer. 💜
Oh, I know! It's actually why I love your stories so much because you go the opposite route of me and I get a different experience. I usually struggle more with the "civilian" characters 😂 For fluffier fics, I go more civilian as well, but I clearly had an agenda for this one lmao
The push and pull banter between Colter and Russ in this chapter was also so fun to read lol. I could literally quote every moment because it was all so well-written and priceless. And it just kept building up the mystery of the reader and why Russell is doing all of this, right up until that awesome cliffhanger!!
Aww, thanks! That means a lot 🥰 I had so much fun writing those two. At some points, they even gave me Sam & Dean vibes 🥲❤️
Thanks so much for that sweet comment, Alex!!! 🤍
Btw, I'm so excited to read the last parts of ATW and the ESC one shots!! I so wanted to read them before the new year, thinking a week-long stay with baby's grandparents would get me some Mommy time, but... family. My husband actually sent me this after we left and I still feel it deeply 😂👇
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The Exit Strategy – Part 1
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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, mystery, a tinge of angst, humor & brotherly banter, one tiny surprise 🤓
Word Count: 5.8k
A/N: Happy holidays, guys! Enjoy 🎄❤️
Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List
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Part 1: This Is Not a Pipe
The heavy truck door slammed shut behind him as Russell slid into the passenger seat with an exhaustive sigh. Colter’s big pickup was parked right next to his beautiful Chevelle in that same old motel parking lot in Virginia.
Russell hadn’t moved – yet. Well, sort of. He’d been away on assignment in some frosty region for a couple of weeks. He wasn’t allowed to say where exactly he’d been, and he knew better than to put it into writing, so let’s just agree he was at the North Pole looking for Santa Claus.
He could’ve ended up anywhere he wanted once he touched ground in the States again, but a very appreciated phone call from a former colleague made the decision for him. Besides, Russell knew this particular motel well. The coffee was more than decent and got the job done, the owner and employees were nice, comforting, and, most of all, trustworthy, and there were always fresh towels.
“Extra fluffy for you, Mr. Russell,” Rosa, the maid, would say every morning with the brightest smile.
Oh, and they had a hot tub in the back…
“Thanks for coming, man,” Russell extended his greeting without glancing at his younger brother once. He could feel Colter’s scrutinizing eyes on him, though, drilling for answers. Granted, his request had been rather unusual, so Russell understood where his younger brother’s ever-frozen furrowed brow stemmed from.
Providing answers didn’t come easy for the older Shaw, however. In fact, it had always been sort of a problem for him – even in the past. Especially in the past. Russell never lied, but he did omit things. Important things. On purpose.
“Yeah, uh, sure,” Colter replied with a polite smile as he started the car and rolled out of the lot.
Ah, yes, politeness…
That was what they were at, although it was progressively improving. It was only the third time the brothers were seeing each other since they had reconnected. And while the last two encounters had given the Shaws some well-needed time to talk things out and build trust, Colter was still naturally wary of his estranged sibling. As was Russell.
“So, what’s this about? You were pretty vague on the phone. You in trouble?”
That finally caught Russell’s full attention. He quickly shook his head, causing his hair to fall into his face. “What? No! No… No trouble,” he swiftly assuaged his brother with a dismissive hand gesture and a lighthearted chuckle. “Just need your help tracking down an old friend of mine, is all.”
Colter quirked an eyebrow at that. “Another Army buddy of yours?”
“Uh, something like that, yeah,” Russell replied rather mysteriously and didn’t even try to conceal the fact that he was hiding something more behind his ambiguous answer. But Colter only intensified his stare at him and wouldn’t let go that easily. Russell knew that. After all, they were related.
Persistence was a Shaw family trait. Another survival skill, if you will.
But this time, Russell wasn’t hiding a big government secret (or maybe he was). No lives depended on this particular mission (or so he thought). He wasn’t protecting a client, a company, or even his dubious employer (but someone else). He wasn’t choked by an NDA or about to save someone in grave danger (as far as he knew).
No, if anything, it was the fact that Russell didn’t know how much he could or should share with his brother. They were related, yes. But, technically, they hadn’t seen each other in decades, so they weren’t just considered merely estranged but strangers. Russell had always been aware of that fact, and Colter was beginning to catch on.
Especially during this mission.
See, once upon a time, the two hadn’t been just brothers. After moving to the cabin, societal contacts became scarce for the siblings. All they had was them. They were friends. Best friends. Always competitive, but friends nonetheless.
How much did they really know about each other now, though? How much of the old was still there?
“So, who are we looking for? What’s the guy’s name?” Colter asked, suddenly eager as he jumped into gear. He had always been restless, even as a kid, which fondly reminded Russell of their childhood.
But how much was he still the Russell that Colter once knew?
Well, Russell, on the other hand, remained calm and ruffled a casual hand through his beard. “Well, she’s, uh–”
Eyebrow cocked, Colter snapped his head to the passenger seat where his brother started to squirm. “Oh… Oh, so it’s a she,” he emphasized with a small grin. “Now I think I get it.”
There it is. I knew it, Russell thought with an internal sigh. In order for this mission to work, he knew he had to reveal some things. Private things. Things about himself and his life. Going in, Russell knew he couldn’t ask Colter for help without giving him something.
Their father had loved tests (and so did you – but that’s another story…). Russell always thought it had been the professor in him. So, Russell saw this as a test as well.
Could he trust Colter? And more pressingly, considering some long held accusations of murder, did Colter trust him?
A clear of Russell’s throat cut right through Colter’s chuckle. And then, the eldest tried his best to give no reaction at all. “Yes, she’s a… woman, but hold your horses. It’s not what you think, okay?” Colter lifted his eyebrow once more, causing Russell to heave another exhaustive sigh. “Fine, alright? It’s exactly what you think.”
Well, close enough, Russell thought. He knew Colter couldn’t even possibly imagine the reality in his wildest dreams.
Usually, Russell was an expert in avoiding uncomfortable questions. He was a pro at ditching answers and keeping secrets, even under torture and duress. However, there was just something entirely unique about dodging questions posed by little brothers.
And Russell saw it as a perfect bonding opportunity. He wanted to fill the chasm between them that their father’s death had caused – once and for all. But he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t walking around on eggshells most of the time – something that reminded him of you again.
Learning from past mistakes, Russell wanted Colter to experience the fun side of him. The one that brewed his own beer, cared too much about his car, and had weird tastes in food. He chose to leave out the rest – the dark stuff and the very best stuff, too.
After all, Russell was good at omitting things.
Colter chuckled triumphantly. “Does this mean you’re finally giving up on Reenie?”
Amused, Russell let out a snort. “Ha! You wish… First things first, alright? Let’s just see how this thing pans out. It’s kind of a long shot. You know that exit plan I told you about?”
“Yeah, you wanna open your own brewery, right?”
“Yeah, well, let’s just say in an ideal world this, uh, woman would be part of that exit,” Russell said and sounded purposely casual as if he didn’t care the mission was successful or not in the end, omitting yet another thing – he did care.
He cared a fucking lot.
“Really? Okay.” Colter scratched his jaw and gave his words some thought. Then he offered a small, yet kind, smile. Honestly, Russell didn’t know what he had expected. “But, you know, if you want me to find the future Mrs. Shaw, I’m gonna need more information to go on. A name, last address, or a-, uh, a picture, maybe?”
“Well, name’s not gonna help you much in this case.” Your first name might’ve been shareable intel, but your last name was of the highest classification. “Her last address that I know of was in Berlin. And while I do have one photo of her, it’s not meant for your eyes, brother,” Russell said with a firmly territorial look that still carried a mischievous twinkle, revealing the exact nature of the photograph to be indeed inappropriate.
Russell had one naughty photo, yes. But he had a whole giant box of others, too.
Colter’s eyebrows met above his nose as he licked his lips. Customarily, people gave him more details when they needed him to find someone. But then again, those people usually weren’t his brother. “Do you know anything about this woman? How long have you two dated?”
“Uhm… not that long,” Russell supplied with a clear of his throat before mumbling the rest of his answer, hoping his beard would swallow most of his words. “Ten years. Give or take…”
What is time anyway if nothing but a concept, right?
Colter blinked at him and almost steered the vehicle off-road before gripping the wheel a little tighter. “I’m sorry… Did you just say ten years?”
“Well, might be more like twelve,” he admitted finally. “Well, anyways, saw her last three years ago.”
“Wow, okay, uhm…” Colter became quiet for a moment, speechless probably, the tiny bits of information running on a loop through his mind. He figured his brother still had lived a life while they hadn’t been speaking. Of course he had. He just never thought about what that life might have entailed, aside from classified military operations. “So, you’ve dated a woman for twelve years…”
“Fourteen.”
“…haven’t seen her in three, and know basically nothing about her?”
Russell snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I know. Ridiculous… Not even sure the name she did give me was her real one,” he said. It was a joke. He did know the name. He knew everything there was to know about you. So, maybe he did lie – sometimes. “But it’s the job, you know? It’s-, uh, it’s complicated.”
That part was true. Truer than he could ever possibly describe in words.
“I guess so…” Colter sighed, and Russell could hear the growing frustration. “So, she does what you do?”
Russell nodded. “In a way, yeah…” And Colter knew what that answer meant – he couldn’t say more. Again. “But don’t worry. We won’t have to turn over every stone on the face of this planet. I have a general idea of where she lives these days,” Russell provided. “One of my, uh, associates was working a job with her not that long ago. That’s how I found out she’s back in the States.”
Colter nodded in acceptance, knowing it was no use to try and prod more answers out of his brother. “Alright. Guess that’s something. So, where are we headed to?”
Russell then flashed him a grin with newfound determination sparkling in his green eyes. “Falls Church.”
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The short drive had remained quiet for the most part. Colter refrained from asking more questions, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get straight answers out of his older brother in one form or the other. To accentuate Colter’s assumption of receiving non-answers, Russell mostly stared out the window with an intensity that had Colter believe his brother was counting trees when, in fact, Russell was pondering what he would, could, or should tell Colter.
Of course, Colter could also always ask more questions about their elusive father, but he didn’t do that either. Sure, one could say he was curious. More than that even.
What did Russell really know about his death? Their mother? Their family? Their work?
Another time, he kept telling himself throughout whenever he stole glances at his long-lost sibling. It was too soon. What was the point when Russell was so clearly reluctant to share anything at all?
Thus, there was nothing left but silence among peaceful woods and dense foliage till Colter pulled his truck over curbside in the idyllic town center of Falls Church.
Patiently, he waited a moment for Russell to open the floor and tell them their next logical steps. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, blew raspberries, clicked his tongue, and waited and waited and waited…
Nothing.
If Colter didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought someone carved a lifeless wax statue out of his brother and planted it on his passenger seat. Russell’s entire body stood motionless, only a set of green eyes flickered alive every once in a while and swayed out the windshield in search of something – or someone.
“So, what’s the plan here?” Colter asked with a clear of his throat. “You just wanna stay here and wait till she accidentally runs across the street?” It was meant as a joke, but to Colter’s dismay, Russell remained dead serious.
“That’s exactly what we’re doing,” the older Shaw confirmed and squinted his eyes at the busy street. Again, he had omitted a few things. In his mind, Colter didn’t need to know why Russell knew to be in front of the post office at exactly 15:03 (UTC–4) on a Tuesday.
Colter snorted a laugh. “What? C’mon, that can’t be the plan… Do you know how many people live in Falls Church? Or in the general Washington metropolitan area? We could be here for days. Weeks even…” The younger Shaw then switched fully into work mode, grabbing his phone from the Bluetooth car mount. “We’re never gonna find her like this. You got a phone number, maybe?” But before Russell could answer, Colter replied himself, shaking his head at his own silliness. “What am I even asking? Of course you don’t.”
Russell only smirked at that. Restless, he thought again.
“What about an old one? Maybe even that would help. I could call Bobby, Reenie… You got anything? Nothing?” But the younger Shaw’s questions apparently stumbled upon deaf ears. “Russell? Russ? Are you even listening to me? I’m trying to help you here. You could at least–”
“Found her!”
Russell almost jumped out of the car as his voice rang with sheer excitement. His heart was beating a mile a minute when his emerald eyes landed on the target. It felt like the very first time all over again.
Granted, the first meeting didn’t go so smoothly – there had definitely been some bumps (all on his part). Then again, he expected this next meeting to go a little roughly too (again, all on him).
“Wait, what?!”
Russell downright beamed. “Told you this would work.”
Colter only scoffed under his breath, the familiar competitiveness crawling back to the surface. “Yeah, well, beginner’s luck, okay?”
One boot had nearly touched asphalt before Russell remembered this wasn’t a situation that required him to storm in guns a-blazing – not even covert. Gentle hands, he reminded himself and swiftly closed the car door again, falling back into his seat. His lungs deflated.
Colter, on the other hand, was more confused than ever. “What-, uh, what are you doing?” Half-amused, his brow furrowed a bit more. “If you’ve found her, go talk to her. Where is she? Who is it?”
Curiosity could only be contained for so long. Colter wanted to know who had been a part of his brother’s life for almost as long as he had. He felt this was a key piece of information that would cause the first domino to fall. And then, revelation after revelation about Russell’s past would unravel.
Basically, Colter was waiting for the big epiphany. No pressure.
Russell vehemently shook his head. “Can’t. At least not like this. I need more intel first. You need to find out her name, and then we need your guy Bobby to get onto this.”
And yet again, guess what? Yes, Russell was, indeed, omitting things.
“Me? Why me?” Colter blinked at him. Surprise, surprise…
“‘Cause, obviously, she’d recognize me,” Russell pointed out. Again, omission. Like he had explained earlier, it was a real problem…
Colter exhaled a deep sigh. “Okay, and I’m guessing you’re still not gonna tell me why we’re doing all of this, right?”
“Nope.”
“Yup, thought so.” Still not convinced, Colter narrowed his eyes at his clearly paranoid brother. Maybe paranoia ran in the family. Not to point fingers – he recognized it in himself, too. “Do we really need to go through all that trouble? I mean, you’ve known that woman for, what, fourteen years, you said? Isn’t that a little extreme… even for you?”
Fifteen, Russell corrected in his mind. Close to sixteen. Nineteen max.
“Just trust me, okay? It’s necessary,” Russell reassured, knowing those words bore some weight. Hurriedly (he was getting antsy – this was a time-sensitive issue), he pointed a finger out the window to the sidewalk across the street. “You see that woman walking into the post office? That’s her.”
“What, the brunette in the flowery dress with the golden cross necklace? That’s her?”
“Yup.”
“Wow, okay…” Surprised didn’t come close to explain how Colter felt. He had expected… different. His brow almost met his hairline, but he still tried his best to conceal his wonder – to no avail.
Suspiciously, Russell leaned back in his seat and assessed his brother’s demeanor with a small glare. “What?”
“Nothing.” Colter threw his hands up in surrender, swallowing. “Just… She doesn’t really seem like your type.”
Amused, Russell stifled a chuckle. “And what exactly do you think is my type, little brother?”
“I don’t know…”
“What, you think some nice Christian girl is too good for me?” Russell deadpanned. Admittedly, he enjoyed bantering with his little brother. It reminded him of what he had missed out on for years. This was what he had wanted and longed for since he had left the family at eighteen.
Well, “left” wasn’t really the right word for it now, was it? It implied a voluntary act, and his leaving wasn’t so voluntary.
“That is exactly what I’m saying,” Colter countered, laughing. “It’s just, you know… dental hygienist in a motel hot tub springs to mind.”
“Okay, alright… You done?” Russell huffed, shaking his head. He refrained from showing his honest amusement. “You’re gonna follow her in or not?”
“Alright, I’ll go,” Colter finally agreed somewhat enthusiastically and jumped out of the car, swiftly following the woman inside. After all, he was curiouser and curiouser…
Russell kept his eyes trained on his younger brother until Colter vanished inside the post office. Now, it was out of his hands, only hoping his little brother wouldn’t blow it. Chances were high he would. Not that Russell didn’t have some faith.
He just had more faith in you.
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Colter spotted you picking up mail from a PO box and decided on a plan of action in a matter of seconds. After all, he was quick thinking on his feet and the best at what he did. That’s why he was here. That’s why Russell had picked him for the job, right?
As you made your way back to the door, Colter eloquently intercepted you without disturbing the crowd. Another thing he had learned from his father.
He bumped straight into your shoulder and almost tackled you to the ground by the sheer force of his sneak attack. The mail in your hands scattered to the tiled floor like autumn leaves, and as Colter bent down to help you pick it up, he took a peek at your name on a postcard.
“Oh my God, would you look at that… I’m so sorry, Miss–,” the younger Shaw apologized clumsily, “Nora Laurier.” He uttered your name with a suave smile as he handed you back your pile of letters. The flirt in his eyes, however, he only added for Russell as revenge for Reenie. “Beautiful name.”
Your hands lingered on the letters between you for a moment as you took in his features and tall stature. It left you with a strange haunting of familiarity.
“Thank you,” you finally said with a hint of a smile as he let go of the mail. “Be more careful next time.”
“I will. Sorry again.” Colter chuckled with blushed cheeks and watched you leave. He waited till you had passed the row of windows before exiting himself.
He was a good actor, too.
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Antsy, Russell almost bit his lip bloody as he stared the post office down till a migraine began to form. God, what he wouldn’t pay for some X-ray vision and super-hearing. He could be downright Superman with that – and the hero always got the girl.
His heart dithered anew with longing as you walked out – it took his breath away. You always did that, and you did it well. But then, you stopped short for a mere second, which wouldn’t have caused a civilian to raise a single brow. But Russell did.
“Shit…” he mumbled in the silence of the truck and lowered himself down to the dashboard. He watched you reach for your phone in your purse and call someone as you headed down the street.
Eventually, you stopped three houses east and finished your call in the shade of a tree next to a busy (and noisy) bus station. Russell caught your eyes drifting back to the doors of the post office, though, just as his little brother walked out and jogged towards the car.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Russell ducked even further down, hitting his head in several places. “What did that knucklehead do?”
The driver’s door opened as Colter casually slipped inside. “Got a name,” he announced victoriously. Part of his happiness emanated from gathering yet another puzzle piece of his mysterious brother – meeting you. “She goes by Nora Laurier now… And she seems nice. Way too nice for you, actually…” As he drifted off, his eyes searched for the elder one before finding him almost kissing the floor mat. “Russ, uh… What-, uh, what are you doing down there?”
“What the hell did you do?” Russell’s tone was both snappy and frustrated.
“Whoa, what d’you mean what did I do?” Colter waved off defensively. “I did what you told me to do!”
“She made you!”
“She did not make me,” Colter brushed off with a laugh, quite confident of his own skill set. They’d had the same teacher. He would know if you had suspected anything.
“Then why did she wait and look after you, huh?” Russell pointed out in annoyance.
Colter’s lips itched to break a smile. He couldn’t help it. It was the perfect opportunity to teach his flirt of a brother a well-needed lesson. “Well, maybe I caught her eye… piqued her interest, you know?”
Russell cocked a brow from below, his stare lethal. “Did you flirt with her?”
Colter hesitated for a moment. Mostly for dramatic effect. “I-, uh… You told me to get her name. ‘Sides, I told you Reenie was off limits.”
“Oh, so this is about revenge? Very mature.” Russell frowned. “She still there?”
“Where?” Colter stretched himself a bit as he looked out the windshield.
“Tree. Bus station.”
An amused smile formed on Colter’s lips as he spotted you. “Oh, yeah. I see her. I don’t think she suspects anything. She’s not even loo-… No, uh, wait… Yup.”
“What?” Russell’s brows drew together as he rose a little from his crouched position.
“Yeah, she’s definitely looking over here.”
“Well, stop looking down,” Russell hissed through gritted teeth. After a deep breath, he spoke in a calmer, more advising tone, “Pretend I’m not here.”
“Trying to, trust me… Should I wave at her? Smile?”
“Are you nuts?! Just look ahead. Pretend you’re getting a phone call.”
Colter did as he was told and held his phone to his ear. “She’s still looking,” he informed with a pressed smile, barely moving his mouth when he spoke.
“Okay, what’s she doing now?”
“There’s a-, uh, there’s a car coming and pulling over by the bus station. Dark gray Audi A6. Virginia Plates. Yankee-Papa-Charlie-5824,” Colter said as Russell hauled a pen from his pocket and began to jot down the plate numbers on his left palm.
“Copy that.”
He’d memorize them anyway, but one could never be too safe. He could get a concussion in the next hour or so (most likely because of you), and then what?
“Okay, she’s getting in,” Colter narrated. “Driver’s in his late-thirties. Male. Glasses. Medium height. Medium build… I think you could take him,” he added with a teasing grin.
“Shut up,” Russell retorted. “Are they gone now?”
“Pulling away from the curb and… Yep, they’re gone. Headed south down the road,” Colter affirmed.
“Alright.” Russell popped back into his seat with a sigh and some sore muscles. He had been sure he’d heard a few bones crack while he’d been cowering down there. He might be finally getting too old for these missions. But that was part of the reason why he was here in the first place – retirement was calling. And Russell wanted to fill the chair next to him on the porch.
“You good?” Colter checked and choked the small laugh that wanted to escape upon the ruffled sight of his older brother.
“Yeah, go ahead and follow them. Just keep a low profile,” Russell instructed. “On our way, you might wanna call your op analyst, too. See what he can find out.”
“Alright,” Colter agreed somewhat reluctantly but still tailed the sedan. “You sure this is a good idea?”
“What d’you mean?” Russell said mindlessly, keeping his eyes focused on the target vehicle.
“Us… stalking your ex-girlfriend?” Colter noted with a cocked brow. “And her potentially new boyfriend?”
Russell only laughed at that. “We’re good. Trust me.”
Admittedly, though, a small part of him wondered (and worried) if this was all real. Maybe Nora Laurier wasn’t your real name, but it might be your actual new one – one you’d adopted as a safety precaution after you’d left it all behind. Maybe you had finally done it and retired, found a perfectly normal guy, and settled down – just without him.
Or:
Maybe you were still in the game, after all.
Russell was hoping it was the latter. Otherwise, he could probably expect a hefty restraining order in his future, but he wasn’t about to tell Colter that. Not until he knew for sure.
The Audi parked in front of an organic grocery store a few blocks down. Colter chose a spot across the parking lot, keeping a reasonable distance with the perfect view. Russell watched as you and Unnamed Man #1 sauntered into the store, an arm slung tightly around your waist and a smile on your face.
While on the phone with Bobby, Colter could tell that the sight of you in another man’s arms stung. “Okay, uh, thanks, Bobby.”
“What’d he say?” Russell fired as soon as Colter had removed the phone even just an inch from his ear.
“Uh, well, there’s some bad news,” Colter revealed hesitantly and licked his lips, not knowing how he was supposed to break his brother’s heart. “Bobby ran the plate number through the DMV. It’s registered to an Aiden Laurier.”
“Laurier?” Undeniably, Russell’s heart flinched at the connection. “Maybe a brother. Cousin…”
Or a colleague, Russell’s mind stubbornly added.
Colter bit his lower lip hard before he spoke, “They’ve been married for two years. I’m sorry, Russ.”
A hand comfortingly patted Russell’s shoulder. A part of him wanted to scream heavenward, but something else inside was gnawing on him.
He clicked his tongue. “No… No.” Sure, one could argue that denial was always the first step of grief. “No. No way she married sweater-vest John Mulaney over there.”
“I’m pretty sure she did. Bobby sent me the marriage certificate,” Colter countered and showed him the screenshot on his phone.
Russell glanced at it for a short second, not even bothering to waste more time on fake news. He shook his head. He knew better.
“Nah. I’m not buying it. You need to go in there and tell me what you see.” He sealed his words with an encouraging pat on the shoulder.
Colter exhaled deeply. “Russ, I-, uh, I think you need to let this go, man. You’re starting to… Never mind.”
“No. Go ahead. Say it,” Russell prompted with some thunder in his voice. “I’m reminding you of Dad, don’t I?”
Colter only twitched his shoulders. “I mean, yeah. A little.”
Russell’s head bobbed in thought before he met his little brother’s eyes. “You really don’t see it?”
“See what?”
“The post office, the road crew over there, the-, the fake documents?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“C’mon… Just think about everything Dad taught us, huh?”
Was Colter really not getting it? Russell found that quite hard to believe. He had known his little brother to be as sharp as a whip. While Russell didn’t always have the nicest things to say about their father, he could admit the old man had prepared them well for life. Well, one life at least. This one.
The nomad life, the odd jobs that required them to have a particular set of skills like Liam Neeson.
Colter shook his head. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, Russell.”
Russell let out a sigh and leaned back in his seat. “Alright, if you don’t see it, you don’t see it.” A smirk twitched in the corners of his lips. “It’s your funeral, brother…”
With narrowed eyes, Colter pursed his lips. “Alright, just tell me one thing, okay?”
“You know I can’t tell you anything,” Russell reiterated and brushed his beard.
“I know. I know… It’s not that kinda question,” the younger Shaw reassured.
“Go ahead,” Russell relented and curiously looked at his brother.
Within a second, Russell could think of a million questions Colter might want to ask him, but this hadn’t been one of them:
“In the past three years, how many times have you thought about her? And I don’t just mean ‘crossed your mind’ every couple of months. I mean ‘seriously thought’ about her?”
“Hmm.” Russell pondered for a moment before replying, “Every damn day.”
It wasn’t a lie, no omission of anything, and Colter could tell. You were the first thought that popped into Russell’s still groggy mind when he woke up and the last one every night that fluttered across his weary eyelids. Obviously, he didn’t give Colter the soppy answer, though.
“Fine. I’ll go,” Colter softened his stance. “You owe me,” he added with a pointed finger before setting foot outside the car.
“I do owe you. Anything you want, brother,” Russell agreed with a broad grin. “How about we start with a full case of my homebrew, huh?”
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Colter danced gracefully through the aisles, spying through canned goods and boxes of cereal. He watched you carefully select fruit with your husband, move through the dairy talking about “organic” and “locally sourced” till you landed on a few choices of toothpaste and finally strolled to the cash register.
Everything seemed boringly normal and ordinary. You chatted with the cashier. They handed you a coupon, which you slipped into your purse. Your husband paid with his credit card (which carried the same name matching the DMV records), and both of you left the store with two paper bags in your arms.
Once through the sliding glass doors, you stopped and turned to your husband. “Darn, honey, I think we forgot the milk.”
“You want me to grab it?”
“No, I’ll do it.”
“Okay, I’ll wait by the car and load the rest of the groceries.”
Now, Colter found that odd. He had watched you spent at least five minutes in the dairy aisle. How could you forget something as basic as milk?
As you hushed inside, your husband sauntered back to the car, and Colter followed you back in. You passed right by the dairy and, with a few looks that resembled a scan of your surroundings, you slipped past the door that led to the restrooms.
Waiting a beat, Colter went in after you. But you were long gone – just not to the restroom. An ‘Employee Only’ door that led to a dumpster alley outside was just falling shut.
Granted, Colter had a bad feeling about this. It was the same feeling he always got shortly before walking into a trap. In his defense, though, you were not a seven-foot-tall, 300-pound kind of guy. He wasn’t about to be ambushed by Shaquille O’Neal, which is probably why Colter didn’t find it necessary to pull his gun.
In hindsight, he should have.
The narrow alley was quiet and empty, except for some trash littering the ground around the dumpsters. It was closed-off, too, wedged between buildings with no view to the parking lot or nearby streets.
And then, something hit him. Or better yet: You hit him. With an elbow to the face and a stiff, flat palm to his throat, Colter stumbled forward before you gave him the final blow and knocked him off balance, tackling him to the ground.
Pressing his cheek into the rough and unforgiving surface of the asphalt, you jumped on him and restrained his arms tightly behind his back. While he squirmed to get out of your hold, he didn’t use as much brutal force as you expected he would.
“Shit,” he muttered below you, his voice muffled by the gravel. A light chuckle escaped him. “Okay, you got me.”
“Sounds about right,” you agreed with a smirk and tightened your grip on his arm.
Then, Colter heard a gun click above him. Hoping to see his brother, he looked up – only to find your husband with a weapon in hand as he stared down the barrel.
“Ah, I think you broke my nose,” the younger Shaw mumbled with a groan.
“Good. You’ve been following me. Why?” you prompted sternly. “Who are you? Who are you working for? Jafari? Mueller?”
“Listen, I-I think you’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not who you think I am,” Colter argued with a strained voice. What the hell had Russell gotten him into? “This is just a big misunderstanding.”
“Uh-huh.” You could only roll your eyes at that. How many times had you heard that line before?
“Let’s hood him. Get him to the Market,” your partner suggested. “We’ll see if he talks then.”
“No, really,” Colter insisted, growing a bit more uneasy. He had no idea what the Market was, but it didn’t sound pleasant. “You know my brother.”
“Who’s your brother?” With your elbow, you put more pressure on his back.
“Ow, alright…” Colter groaned once more as the pain intensified. “Looks kinda like me. Think two decades younger. He was in the Army, so probably didn’t have long hair and a beard. Uh, kind… green eyes? No? Doesn’t ring a bell?”
Colter watched your brow furrow in his periphery as he squinted upwards. He could see the gears starting to turn in your head. You just needed one final push to put all the puzzle pieces together.
“If it helps, my name is Colter. Colter Sh–”
“Shaw,” you shot like a missile. Your jaw plummeted to the ground, your heart springing right out with it. Your grip on the man caught between your thighs loosened, hearing Colter’s sigh of relief before you heard his voice.
“Hiya, sweetheart.”
Your head darted up, the man beneath you long forgotten. You swallowed as your eyes landed on an all too familiar face – even when it was covered by a bunch of hair that had never been there before. The heart-crushing smile was still the same as if it had been ripped straight from an old photograph you had of him.
“Russell?!”
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Part 2: This Is a Russell Mission
Quite the entrance! Writing Russell reminded me somewhat of Plastic Hearts Dean (minus the addiction problems unless you count lying) because of all the wild overthinking 😂
If you enjoyed this story, then I'll gladly keep working on its prequel. Was a bit nervous to post this since I filled in some family history gaps myself 😅 I also dove into the books a little and added some things that kinda fit their "show" personalities.
Please let me know what you think and if you'd be interested in a young soldier!Russell series 😉🤍
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a-chronic-overthinker · 2 days ago
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Abstragedy Week Day 3 - Hurt/comfort
Knock-knock-knock.
Zooble knocked on Gangle’s door for probably the tenth day in a row, awaiting a response. They had been visiting her every day since they got back from the Spudsy’s adventure. Gangle had seemed sadder and more quiet since then -if that was even possible- and Zooble wanted to be sure they were okay. Besides, they always enjoyed Gangle’s company. And she had opened the door and welcomed them in every day (except today, apparently.) Just as Zooble turned away and was about to walk back to their room - they must have all gone on one of Caine’s adventures again, they thought - the door creaked open and Gangle’s mournful face offered Zooble a smile once again. They sat together in the vermillion room, decorated with red silk bows and littered with sketchbook paper and pencils. “Zooble?” she squeaked, anxiety in her voice. “Can I talk to you about something?” Zooble nodded, their eyes suddenly filled with concern. “Yeah? Was it Jax again?” "No, he’s not the problem. I am." she said, big tears surfacing from her voidlike eyes. "I really appreciate it. But you don't need to do this for me. I don't want you to feel bad for me, if you think I'm annoying you can say so and I'll leave you alone."
"What?" Zooble could have laughed at the idea of finding Gangle, practically the only good thing they had in the Circus, annoying. But they could barely put words together, her statement not fully registering. "Why... why would you think... who told you that?"
"Remember the fast food adventure? That's what Jax told me. And Ragatha too... I don't think she would have said it out loud, but she had some of that sauce? I don't know, I guess it made her more honest...." Gangle trailed off. "I just... I don't really know anymore."
"Gangle..." Zooble had so much they wanted to tell her, they wanted to stay with her as she cried, and fall asleep, safe in each others' arms... but everything was coming too fast again and all they could say was, "Why would I think that?"
Gangle blinked, wiping away a tear only for a new one to appear in its place. “W-what?”
“I mean,” Zooble said slowly, searching for the right words, “you’re the only person in this whole damn circus that I care about. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here. I-” They were interrupted by the firm grasp of Gangle’s arms around their shoulders. “Thank you.” Gangle whispered. And Zooble wordlessly returned the hug. After they pulled away from each other, they just sat there, leaning against Gangle’s four poster bed. It wasn’t awkward really, they could just stay for as long as they wanted, being in each other’s presence. “I mean,” Zooble mused, “what reason would I have not to be honest with you? If I didn’t want to come over, I wouldn’t have. I do that all the time with Caine anyway…” and they suddenly became aware of what they were saying - oh shit why did I say that she probably doesn’t want to talk about it anymore we were doing fine and of course I had to go ruin it what the fuck is wrong with me -
But then Gangle cracked a smile. And she started to giggle. Which made Zooble smile too, and before they knew it they were both laughing together, gasping for breath, not even knowing why. It had been so long since Zooble had heard that sound out of their own mouth, and when they had both calmed down, they looked lovingly at each other.
Like they were the only people in the world.
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bunabi · 3 days ago
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Gotta throw my 2 cents in here, having just finished VG three days ago. I didn’t romance Solas in Inquisition but I started VG with an inquisitor who did, because I was curious about how it would play out.
The cutscene where the Inq talks to Rook about her love for Solas and basically says “yeah he’s really toxic in every way but I love him—“
I had been FULLY INTENDING to have Inq reunite with Solas. But that conversation hit way too hard thanks to a past relationship of mine, the things she said were almost verbatim things I said and felt during the aftermath of that relationship, so kudos to the writers for realism I guess… But the only two ways to tell her she should reunite with him are “you deserve to be happy” (aka you deserve to live out your delusions) and “you were good for him” (BARF). They both felt so naive!
I stared at that screen for a good five minutes, but eventually I could not consign her to an eternity of being his moral compass. So I went with the option that had Rook telling her he’s not good for her and just. I was very disappointed that two of the three major Inq appearances in the game are centered heavily around her feelings for him without feeling like there’s much of her own agency, and she’s willing to just give up everything for him despite his history, or else stick around in Thedas depending on whatever Rook says (which also a complaint I have with the game in general, where everyone leaves their major life choices up to Rook).
Overall just very strong “GIRL WHEN SOMEONE SHOWS YOU THEY ARE, BELIEVE THEM” vibes from me. Feels bad!
I went back to rewatch the Cobbled Swan scene and huh yeah the entire conversation is about Solas. It makes sense that we can't ask about their organization, their life as a Dalish Rogue/Warrior/Mage, or what they've been up to: that would require world state choices. But if Harding is able to have little anecdotes on the Inner Circle, I'd expect the Inquisitor would have something to talk about other than her not-quite-ex-lover. :'(
But I do admit: I don't know what they could've done instead. The Trespasser scene alone apparently took a month to complete. I don't think nuance of that level was gonna be possible for DAV. But this take on Lavellan feels too much like a charicature of how she exists in fanon.
I couldnt disagree more with the 'lets blame John Epler for everything' energy but the wires got crossed somewhere. I was hoping Weekes would participate in the Dec. 4th AMA and answer a few questions, explain the vision a bit, but they've been relatively quiet.
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petorahs · 3 days ago
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I would love to hear your thoughts about Sunday. (Please rant about him)
free reign to rant about my favorite character.... omg. I hope you know what you've just unleashed
first of all look at him. he is like a cat.
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now where to begin...
I know what kinds of characters I like so I knew immediately that I was in for it when I first saw Sunday, "the most handsome man on Penacony!" with Robin in tow, who was his sister. for reference, characters with siblings almost always end up having my heart. for example Ayato is my favorite character in genshin, Arlecchino following close second. my affection for Aventurine rose drastically the moment I learnt he had a sister. found family Stellaron hunters makes my heart melt. I will always love sibling dynamics, characters who put their families first.
then his interaction with Aventurine happened. his questions were so very clearly a projection, not an interrogation. "Do you love your family more than yourself?" he was so clearly grieving. this is where Sunday starts to set apart from Ayato in my head. Sunday was more emotional and fraying at the seams than we ever saw Ayato throughout the story. he was a grieving brother who barely hides it. and... "Do you wish to destroy this world?". this is where Sunday starts to clearly set apart from Aventurine. Sunday would rather remake the world than destroy it.
and then. 2.2 - In Our Time happened. this is where I knew that he would become my obsession for months and months and months to come. it's where we saw his kindness, his bleeding heart, his pessimism on full display. his love for humanity - but never for himself. his evangelical themes, his Maruki persona 5-esque plan, his own grand orchestra, he himself being orchestrated like a puppet on strings. his Luciferic fall from grace.
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...and being caught instead😭
this was so poignant i almost cried. idk like everything clicked here. s*icidal characters being caught (not saved) but held is so important to me. the light in their eyes dimming and the framing of the scene reminded me of how Scaramouche fell. and like how Aventurine held Kakavasha's hands.
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PLUSSS sibling characters growing apart the older they get. Robin and Sunday arent that close in the present, that much is clear. they even fought before this. BUT SHE STILL CAUGHT HIM I JUST-- 😭 LIKE FUCK BRO I DIDNT EVEN THINK PENACONY AS A WHOLE WAS GOOD AT THE TIME NOR WAS I EVEN PLAYING HSR AT ALL I ONLY STARTED DURING JUNE 2024 but this still got me. it ended me. it just had everything i ever loved every theme i found dear and personal
also my favorite writing choice they did for Penacony was continuously mentioning Robin and Sunday's "paradise of our dreams" and the "promise" they made and how diametrically opposed they are despite both pursuing that vow, but... we only properly learn what it is at the end 😭
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i. just cried at this i think. its such a simple wish but things went so far than Trustful Boy and Guileless Girl could have ever thought.
so that's the journey. ultimately i just came to the conclusion that this guy is just too cute for his own good and he wants the best for people he's never ever selfish or mean 😭 he's as loving as Elysia hi3 i think and his 7 rest days philosophy is just so cute of him.
he truly truly TRULY advocates for resting rather than having to work 9-5's, he would tell you to eat the extra dessert and to sleep in a little. HOWEVER. he would not extend this same leniency to himself. that is the duality and complexity of Sunday. (like look at this)
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HE DOESNT RELY ON GODS!!! faithful church boy that he is, he denounced both Xipe AND Ena while still honoring THEM and he makes such good philosophical points and its just crazy that the trailblazers didnt really want to listen to him bc he was cooking. and regardless, he takes his fall with grace. GRACE!! he WANTED to be proven wrong he's just so reasonable and i love his faith and devotion and care and and and
as a kid he dissed the teacher that said little Robin's singing was bad. and then he ate an eggtart out of spite. THE LITTLE BIRDIE HAD SUCH AN ATTITUDE!! and he has piercings in his wings and metal choir in his boss theme of course he's a little alt.
i adore this side of him:
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he just. needs to know that he's deserving of all the love in the world he desires for everyone else. i hope he doesnt put himself on such punishingly high standards anymore. i hope he learns more from Aventurine and takes more chances. i hope he gets his :3 smile back on his model.
i am so ill for this man.
also i think this message i sent to my friend after I saw Sunday's animations explains how i feel at all times. I got nothing to hide. (I'm sorry women) (NSFW text warning)
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shit-talk-turner · 2 days ago
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So what reason do you think he is still in a relationship with her if it isn’t happiness and love. // It’s convenient, no commitment she also does what he says. //
A'ight, bare with me but I'm going to play armchair psychologist for a sec. People say some version of this a lot and I don't think that's it at all. I think Alex is a deeply insecure person and Louise makes him feel better about himself than any of his previous girlfriends did. I would wager she doesn't really criticize him much and hypes him up a lot and is unwaveringly supportive because, let's face it, why wouldn't she be? He's massively changed her life for the better, at least according to the metrics she seems to value.
I think this is probably the relationship he has felt the most secure in precisely because it doesn't seem like he's concerned with making a big show of it like he did with other girlfriends. To me, he was clearly very insecure about his relationship with Alexa if the lyrics are anything to go by, and he was certainly very show-y about her. He clearly got insecure again when he got with Arielle (see: totally changing his appearance/persona, kind of making a spectacle of himself while still obssessively writing songs about his ex, etc), and so he made a big show of that relationship as well. He was also clearly going through some big insecure phase while with Taylor (more personal/professional insecurities than romantic ones, by the sounds of it, what with feeling lost after the success of AM, turning to a lot of drugs and partying, and then eventually going into introspective hermit mode) and so poured a lot of that into some big performative happiness which... well, we all know what that amounted to. I don't think any of that was conscious, but I think he's always sort of put on an act to convince himself more than anyone that things were ok, similar to how he seems to deal with his work by putting on characters. He needs that distance, and I think in his relationships, engaging in performative exaggerated displays of affection does that and gives him some control over the narrative. IMO he has lyrics that support this as his general approach to life as well as his work (see: Bourne Identity, a lot of TBHC, Mr. Schwartz, etc).
I know this fandom seems to interpret his relative silence about Louise as him not caring for her but I kind of always interpreted the fact that he doesn't feel the need to engage in that behaviour with her as him likely feeling pretty secure about the relationship, and where he is in life. And she probably contributes to that security a lot... which makes sense. She adores him and isn't really self-possessed enough by the looks of it for him to see her as wild, unpredictable, or in any way uncertain. Now, whether that translates into him loving her I don't know, but I think there is probably a lot of comfort having that sort of security in one's life, and that most likely does lead to a fair amount of affection for the person who caused it. That doesn't equate to happiness of course, and I agree he looks kind of glum in most photos with her, but I do think he must care for her a great deal, if only because her loyalty/reliability is a stabilizing presence in his life. If he has gone without that for most of his adult life, it makes sense that he'd put up with a lot of indifference (because I really don't think there's a world where he hates her) to not lose it.
That’s an interesting perspective
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