#it's no longer a person so they're no longer interested

[gallusrostromegalus]

Side bit of AEIWAM Lore for funsies: Akon and Shuuhei were roommates for a long time and still close friends.

What happened was Akon got a work release from prison as a kid so that Urahara could use him in the 12th*, but when Mayuri tried to promote Akon to seated officer some years later, Yamamoto put his foot down and demanded Akon actually receive some formal training as a shinigami before he would be allowed to command other shinigami. So An adolescent Akon had to enroll in Genryusai Academy the same year that Shuuhei FINALLY passed his entrance exams, and the two were assigned roommates.

The introverted and socially unskilled Akon latched onto outgoing pretty boy who makes friends with everyone Shuuhei like a remora latching onto a speedboat. He frequently asked (and STILL asks) Shuuhei the most are-you-a-space-alien social questions and took notes re: the answers. Shuuhei never noticed anything odd about Akon because he's operating on golden retriever "well they're not kicking me so I guess we're BEST FRIENDS FOREVER" rules.

The undiagnosed dyslexic/ADHD/OCD and six other major aniety disorders in a bucket Shuuhei latched onto "called out and corrected the teacher on day one and then assumed control of chemistry class" nerd Akon like a remora latching onto a speedboat. Akon never did Shuuhei 's homework for him, but he did basically personally tutor Shuuhei by tism ranting 24/7, and proofreading his work. Akon never noticed anything odd about this, because ofc you share knowledge and correct people mid-conversation, what the fuck do you think science is FOR?

Both were promoted to Seated Officers immediately after graduation but they still lived together in a shared off-division apartment for several years until Shuuhei made lieutenant and Akon became president of R&D and they both had to move into thier divisions full time, but they're both Members of the Shinigami Men's Association, and co-presidents (and only members) of the Seireitei Rat Fancy association. Shuuhei has had pet rats ever since he was a poor kid in the Rukongai, and Akon since he was a little kid in prison, and it was one of the things they really bonded over when they were in the dorms together, much to thier RA's horror.

Shuuhei wants to breed the softest, cuddliest rats with the longest lifespans possible. His prize animal now is "Florence", a doe with a positively satin-smoot coat approaching her twelth birthday with no real signs of aging so far. Akon is trying to breed rats large enough for him to ride into battle and his prize animals are a pair of Bucks called Gilbert and Sullivan who are approaching 40lbs apiece. They both spoil thier rats rotten.

Another thing they have in common is a love of Mahjong. Shuuhei learned to play (and make money on it) from his grandmother. Akon was taught the same by the other inmates at the maggot's nest, and in each other, finally found worthy opponents. Of course, Mahjong is best played with four people, so each of them has been trying to train others to play with mixed success. Akon has had made good players out of Nemu and 9th seat Niko Kuna (Mashiro's younger sister) but both of them are just as likely to want to play "Operation, but with a real body" and are not reliable partners. Shuuhei taught Tousen how to play and he's an exceptionally canny player and reliable partner, but often struggles to remember what tiles have actually been laid down, since his glasses tend to jumble the characters when trying to read the tiles to him.

Upon her return to Soul Society, Mashiro Kuna suggests they combine their interests and breed rats capable of playing Majong and both of them think about it for just a little bit longer than is reasonable.

---

*AEIWAM Akon actually hates Urahara's guts: While it was Urahara's signature on the work release, it was *Mayuri* that pettitioned that the child Akon be released from the maggot's nest. Mayuri really only wanted Akon for his expertise in biomechanics, but also did do the badgering of Urahara to get him out. Akon hates Urahara because when Urahara was in the 2nd division, he arrested Akon and threw him into the maggot's nest as a small child, just because he was born part Yokai.

Akon once described the debt he feels to Mayuri as "Imagine if a raccoon saved your life. Now imagine if the raccoon was a meth kingpin that could kill you with telepathy. You'd owe it forever but also. It's a little complicated, you know?"

This comes to something of a head after the winter war when there is a question about who is actually going to run the 12th as Mayuri is Goop, Nemu is emotionally compromised about him being Goop, Hiyori is only sort of qualified, Akon is even less qualified, Hikifune is in the royal realm, the 12th has completely locked down and gone on strike rather than let Urahara put one toe in the door, and there aren't that many captain-class people who also know... anything about scientific research or provisioning.

Yamamoto is forced to approach Tousen, who was forced to do all of Aizen's lab work is still in his mandated year of recovery and had been granted an actual, legal retirement by Yamamoto, to beg him to take over the 12th before they run out of food and/or the 12th actually explodes.

[weatheringandweary]

Meg McCaffrey reclaiming her personhood by being unapologetically herself is so beautiful, and I truly do believe she might possibly be the best female character Rick has written for the Riordanverse.

Of course that's entirely subjective, but her personality is so different from the other characters we've seen - and for good reason! Meg has been a weapon for almost her entire life, so she clings to every chance she gets to be a child while she's away from Nero. When you compare her to characters like Nico who've been forced to mature the moment they were thrusted into demigod life, it's such an interesting change of pace?? We barely see that!

And I think that's why it takes a little longer for people to warm up to her. I can understand that, we're used to characters putting their personal wants and needs aside to be soldiers. It can be a bit jarring to see Meg, who's introduced for the first time around the same age that Percy was when he debuted in TLT, act so differently despite having been apart of the mythological world for so long.

But I think that's why I'm so fond of TOA. It deviates away from the formula in so many different ways, but the narrative decisions for both Meg and Apollo are incredibly rewarding to read in full. They're two completely different people (if we're going off surface-level observations anyway) and they bring out the best in each other despite that. With him, she can just be Meg :)

[immortalbumblebee]

Under The Table

This idea was given to me by the always-lovely @conretewings! Check our their stuff, they're the one who inspired me to write Vander fics in the first place.

Not to mention the Lord of the Rings reference, lol.

Masterlist

The Last Drop was alive tonight, the usual haze of pipe smoke and lantern-light casting warm, flickering shadows on the weathered walls. The hum of chatter filled the room, punctuated by the clink of glasses and bursts of raucous laughter from the regulars huddled around mismatched tables. Vander stood behind the bar, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the shelves of well-worn bottles, pouring a round for a trio of dockhands boasting about their latest haul.

At your usual corner table, a small crowd had gathered, hanging on to your every word. You’d just finished recounting an exaggerated tale of a drinking escapade—one that ended with you walking out unscathed while your opponent was passed out cold. Your grin widened as the group erupted in cheers and skeptical jeers, challenging your story.

"Come now," you teased, leaning back in your chair and raising your drink. "You think I’m bluffing? I’ve got more tolerance than anyone in this place."

Vander’s deep laugh cut through the noise, drawing your attention. He set down an empty tankard with a thunk and crossed his arms, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Anyone, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a bold claim, love.”

The crowd stilled for a brief, charged moment, the weight of Vander’s challenge hanging in the air. Then, like a spark igniting dry kindling, the room erupted into a cacophony of excited whispers and scattered cheers. Vander was rarely one to involve himself in the bar’s games—his presence was usually that of a steady hand and a watchful eye—but when he did, it was something that drew everyone’s attention.

You leaned casually against the bar, your arm resting on the worn surface, a sly smile playing at your lips. Tilting your jaw up just enough to meet his steady gaze, you let your eyes linger on him a beat longer than necessary. The faint flicker of amusement in his expression told you he noticed.

“Careful, Vander,” you teased, your voice light but laced with challenge. “I’d hate to see the great protector of the Lanes lose face in his own bar.”

A ripple of laughter passed through the crowd, some already placing bets, others simply eager to watch the spectacle unfold. Vander stepped closer, his imposing frame casting a shadow over the bar as he leaned in, his smirk widening.

“Lose face?” he rumbled, his voice warm and steady, though there was a glint of playful defiance in his eyes. “You talk a big game for someone who might not make it past the third round.”

The crowd roared their approval, and you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his boldness. You straightened, stepping away from the bar with an exaggerated flourish and a grin that you hoped looked more confident than it felt.

“Guess we’ll see, won’t we?” you said, your voice carrying above the noise as the crowd surged to clear a table for the contest.

Maybe, you thought, as excitement buzzed in your veins, this was more than just a game. If you played your cards right, tonight might turn into something far more interesting.

The crowd erupted into cheers and hollers as an impromptu table was cleared, tankards rapidly filled, and bets thrown down with reckless enthusiasm. You couldn’t help but laugh, the buzz of excitement in the room infectiously lifting your spirits. It wasn’t just the thrill of the contest, though; it was the way Vander’s full attention was on you, his warm, steady gaze locking onto yours.

Your not-so-hidden crush on the burly bartender had been the worst-kept secret in the Lanes for ages, but having him focus on you like this—like you were the only person in the room—was enough to send butterflies swarming in your chest. And to think, you hadn’t even touched a drop of alcohol yet.

Vander stepped out from behind the bar, the crowd parting instinctively to let him through. He moved with an easy confidence, rolling his sleeves further up his forearms as he approached the table. With a nod to Benzo, who grinned like a cat about to watch a mouse get caught, he motioned for two fresh tankards to be filled.

“Don’t tell me you’re already getting cold feet,” he teased, settling into the seat across from you with a smirk that sent a thrill straight to your core.

You scoffed, playing it cool as you slid into your chair. “Not a chance,” you replied, though your heart was pounding loud enough that you were sure he could hear it.

The rounds started, each tankard emptied in a clatter of glass and thunderous cheers. You held your own at first, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through your chest and easing your nerves. But as the drinks stacked up, the edges of the room began to blur ever so slightly.

By the time the final tankard hit the table with a decisive thud, your vision was swimming just enough to make you blink hard, willing the room to steady itself. You were fine, you reassured yourself, though the growing smirk on Vander’s face said he might not agree.

“Still standing?” he asked, leaning forward on his elbows, his voice low and teasing. His gaze swept over you, equal parts playful and impressed.

You straightened in your chair, forcing a grin even as the butterflies in your stomach threatened to rebel. “Barely breaking a sweat,” you shot back, though your slightly unsteady hand betrayed you as you reached for the table to steady yourself.

Vander chuckled, the rich sound filling the space between you. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

It was about seven more beers in when the world began to tilt, just slightly, and everything became inexplicably funnier. You found yourself giggling uncontrollably at nothing in particular, your cheeks warm from both the drinks and the absurdity of the situation. Long ago, the crowd had begun to disperse, with only a few curious (and admittedly concerned) looky-loos poking their head over to you ever once in a while. Across the table, Vander glanced down at his hands, a faint look of concentration creasing his brow as he flexed his fingers in slow, clumsy motions.

You tried not to stare, but the way the low lantern-light caught the lines of his face, the way his lips curved into a subtle smile—it was impossible not to. Damn him for looking so good, even with a faint flush creeping up his neck from the alcohol.

“I think,” he rumbled, his voice warm and gravelly in a way that made your chest flutter, “I’m starting to feel it.” He flexed his fingers clumsily, the movement oddly mesmerizing. “There’s a... slight tingling.”

You blinked, your gaze tearing away from the way his hands moved to his face, where he was watching you with a glint of amusement. Your mouth moved before your brain caught up.

“Big, strong Vander,” you slurred with mock solemnity, lifting a shaky finger to point at him, “brought down by a few pints. I always knew you were human!”

The laugh that rumbled out of him made your stomach flip, and for a moment, you forgot to be embarrassed by your boldness.

“Is that so?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table as he gave you that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “You seem pretty human yourself, love. The hiccups kind of give it away.”

You hiccupped immediately, as if on cue, and the heat in your cheeks spread down your neck. “That’s—hic—just strategy,” you said, waving a hand as though brushing off his words. “Keeps you off guard.”

Vander chuckled again, the sound low and rich, and it sent a shiver down your spine despite the warmth flooding your body. He leaned back once more, tilting his tankard to his lips and draining the rest of his beer effortlessly, the muscles in his throat shifting in a way you had no business noticing but absolutely did.

“Impressive strategy,” he drawled, setting the tankard down with a solid thunk. “Let me know how it works out when you’re trying not to fall over.”

You narrowed your eyes, your lips twitching into a grin despite yourself. “I’m not the one looking like they forgot how fingers work,” you countered, pointing at his hands with a dramatic flourish. Your words floundered slightly as your eyes became trapped on the digits in question, “nice hands…”

His laughter was louder this time, full and unrestrained, and it sent another wave of warmth crashing through you. He was utterly magnetic like this, his usual calm composure softened by the drinks and the laughter you had somehow managed to coax out of him.

“You like my hands, do you?” Vander hummed, his voice dropping a note lower as he leaned slightly closer to you. His elbows rested on the table, the light from the lantern above casting shadows that made his smirk all the more dangerous.

Your brain short-circuited. You blinked hard at him, utterly incapable of forming a coherent thought as your mouth opened and closed like a fish. “Umm,” you finally managed, the sound weak and embarrassingly stupid.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening at your obvious fluster. His fingers drummed idly against the table, drawing your reluctant gaze to them before your eyes darted back to his face. “What’s the matter, love?” he asked, his voice smooth and teasing. “I thought you had plenty to say a moment ago.”

The heat in your cheeks surged, your thoughts spiraling as you tried desperately to pull yourself together. “I wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t say I liked your hands!” you blurted, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“Didn’t you?” Vander leaned back, his broad shoulders settling comfortably as if he had all the time in the world to tease you. “Could’ve sworn I caught you staring. Not that I blame you,” he added with a low chuckle, his voice rich enough to make your stomach flip. “These hands can do a lot more than pour drinks, you know.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt your face go molten. The implications of his words hit you like a freight train, your mind running wild with thoughts you definitely shouldn’t be entertaining right now.

“I—I wasn’t staring,” you stammered, though the way your voice cracked on the words probably didn’t make you very convincing.

His smirk deepened, his gaze unwavering and entirely too knowing. “No? Then what’s got you so flustered?”

You sputtered, unable to come up with a retort as the crowd around you roared with laughter and excitement, still caught up in the drinking contest. Meanwhile, Vander’s eyes stayed locked on yours, a flicker of something unspoken lingering between you—a challenge, a tease, or maybe, just maybe, something more. 

[isabelawritesthings]

The last dance

Pairing: Katarina x F!reader

Synopsis: You are one of the guests at the Black Rose Ball, and your dance partner catches your eye.

Word count: 823

Warnings: Mentions of war and death, mentions of relationship breakups.

An: I know it's just a cinematic, but my heart can't stand seeing beautiful women in fiction and not writing about them 😭 I tried to make it longer but my creative block isn't helping. (In case you're confused and only know Arcane, Garen is her romantic interest in the lore of League of Legends and Jericho Swain is the one who rules Noxus, Demacia and Ionia are regions that are at war with Noxus.)

What happened in Piltover was surprising for all of Runeterra. A simple inventor becoming a kind of God? Even more so in the city of progress? Simply surprising.

Your parents were longtime members of the Black Rose, and with Mel Medarda's return, the organization needed a distraction. And just like in the times when Noxus was a monarchy ruled by an emperor, why not have a ball?

"You look beautiful.” Your mother said to you. “Do we really have to go to this ball? Are we really going to pretend that Ambessa's daughter isn't coming back to finish us all off?" Your mother looked surprised. "You better not say things like that at the ball.” Your father enters the room. "We're going to be late like this, ladies."

It was a masquerade ball, as the Black Rose always liked anonymity, but you didn't care, you wouldn't be wearing a mask that night, you thought the masks were too ugly to wear.

“Honey, do you mind if me and your father go say hi to some friends?" Your mother asked. "No, I think I'll just dance a little." You walk out onto the dance floor, and dance with the first person you see, not caring who it is under that mask. “You dance very well," said the masked person, it was a female voice. "Thank you... Are you part of the Black Rose, or are you just one of those nobles they invited?" The person behind the mask laughed. "You tell me, you're not wearing a mask after all.”

“Those are pretty ugly." You and your dance partner change positions. "I prefer you like this without the mask, you're very pretty.” You gave a small laugh. "You must be the one who's beautiful, redheads usually are." The woman looked you in the eyes. "Maybe we could talk in a more private place." You smiled. "I'd love to." The two of you walked to the garden.

In the garden, the mysterious woman takes off her mask, you weren't wrong, she was indeed beautiful. "Nice to meet you, Katarina." you smiled. "Y/N." Katarina sits on the garden bench. "Your parents are members of the Black Rose, aren't they?” You sit down next to her. "Yes, long before I was born." She gives a shy laugh. "They're all liars and murderers... You don't look like one of them.”

“And I'm not, it's just my parents who have these crazy ideologies of theirs, if I could, I'd be in Demacia or Ionia right now, but I would rule out going to Ionia, there's a very anti-Noxian sentiment there thanks to the war.” Katarina looks at the floor. "Demacia... That name brings back memories." You looked curious. "Are you from there?" Katarina looks at you. "No, I was born right here... It's just that it was there that I lived the best moment of my life, because I found love." You looked even more curious.

“Garen, his name is Garen, he was in the Demacian army, it could never work since we are also at war with Demacia, he would probably be executed for treason if anyone found out.” She looked sad. "Jericho Swain is still going to destroy this country with those stupid wars!" She looked at you again. "I still love him, but it could never work." You changed the subject. "So, what are you doing here? You don't look like a member of the Black Rose." Her eyes looked at you intently. "Let's just say I came to finish something." You thought it was strange that she was staring at you like that.

“You're taking too much of a risk by meeting me in a secluded location, if I were a spy you'd be dead by now." You looked even more surprised. "I... I... It's just that I found you quite peculiar…” She stopped staring at you. "Peculiar? I've heard better compliments... You look like you're also trying to forget a love." She figured it out pretty quickly. "I fell in love with a girl recently, she was in the army, she ended up dying in Ionia." Katarina's face remained still. "I'm sorry." You looked at her. "Don't be sorry, this fate was already predictable.”

You lost track of how much time you spent talking to Katarina on that bench, the more you found out about her, the more impressed you were, like how she had been trained by generals from all over the country.

“I think you need to go now, your parents must be worried." She stood up. "Thanks for the evening, I needed a little chat before I do what I came to do." You stood up too. "You keep mentioning this duty you have to do tonight but you never say what it is." She looks at you. "Let's just say it involves shocking some people at this ball."

She kisses you on the cheek before she leaves, you blush slightly.

[waynes-multiverse]

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 😂🤍

(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 😂😂

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 😂👇

The Exit Strategy – Part 1

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

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.”

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.

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.

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?”

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?!”

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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[moonlight-tmd]

Hey, sorry if I'm bothering you or anything. But I am curious, like what would happen if Bumblebee is a femme (female), and what are his teammates and crushes reaction to that?

Well, that's interesting.

There could be two takes on that, either she is a femme by forging or some freak incident with the allspark shard happened and turned him genderbend.

In my mind Cybertronians are aliens so they don't really need to represent themselves as male/female. I'd say the population is about 2/3ds of them having binary pronouns and expressions while the rest just does their own thing. Of couse, while this is a fairly common thing, that doesn't mean where aren't bad things like sexism or xenophobia (mostly towards warframes cuz majority are Decepticons).

If you're in a bad part of town, you might stumble into these types of bots. Minibots aren't takes as seriously as a normal civil frame would, but the lower in morale you go you'll find that these shady folks often treat minis as lap pets.

If Bee was a femme by forging she'd have a hard time staying out of trouble considering most mechs tried to harass her over he frame. Even if she wasn't the most femme-looking and curvy it was quite obvious she was in fact a femme. Most often than not mechs would comment on her big chest kibble.

Wasp was one of those mechs, he'd constantly try and grope the fellow mini and try to intimidate her to be his sparkmate ut it never worked. He thought she was playing tough but in reality she just wanted away from this creep. Thankfully Bulkhead turned out to be different; the mech tried to approach her many times and she just thought he wanted to hit her up too. Took a while and a Bulkhead defending her from Wasp to realize he just wanted to befriend her.

In case of crushes, Bee had 3; Longarm from the times of boot camp. Prowl from their times on earth and Blitzwing who she inconveniently found attractive during their battles.

I don't think it would be much different form how Bee would be treated as a mech. I mean, Longarm was essentially a school buddy, they got along well, maybe something blossomed and it only became something serious once on earth.

Prowl is the exact same, he'll treat Bee the same way he'd treat him as a mech. But I can see few folks teasing him about having no sense of personal space when he and Bee are bickering. Who knows, maybe one day after a much heated fight between the two, Prowl will wake up and realize Bee has been on his mind all the time and is not as annoying as he makes himself believe.

Blitzwing- honestly, he'd be smitten the first time he sees her. He's been trying his luck in the Legion but everyone always turns him away, mostly due to his condition. But then he sees this tiny cute femme with sharp glossa and visible enjoyment for odd things and he's all over her. He'll flirt in the middle of the fight and pretend they're dancing and not trying to off one another. He'll bring her flowers and stolen objects he'd think she might like, Bee is so tired of this adorator but at the same time she really enjoys it. The others are just annoyed at his courting.

If Bee was somehow turned femme on Earth it would be pretty funny. I've actually had an idea a while back on this.

They were trying to reach the shard but it was one of the unstable ones; it caused everything around to go haywire and, as one of the weirdest things it did, it transformed various machinery into other things. Like forklifts shifted parts to become ice cream machines spurting oil, that sort of thing. They managed to get it but of course, Bee has been hit in the process. he woke up and only after the others saw him he realized what happened. He was a tad more curvy than his mech self, his subspace was now hanging from his hips and he has door wings. His horns were a bit thinner and longer and his peded gained heel struts much like Prowl had. Even his voice shifted to be on a higher note.

At first he was freaking out but over time he got used to it, maybe even like it. The others were sure surprised and had to adjust but there wasn't much issues. Well, except Optimus who seemed a tad uneasy at the sight whenever they spoke.

I would say Prowl was definitely surprised at the sudden change, more surprised when he caught himself being nicer towards Bee in general. They were working on a way to reverse this back since Bee seemed to want his old look back but overtime Prowl noticed Bee changing his demeanor when speaking on the topic. One time he approached the scout when he was sitting alone on the roof and asked what was wrong. Bee then asked him if how he'd feel if he stayed like this instead of going back to his old self.

Prowl didn't expect that but said that if he wants to stay like this he should do it. Bee confessed he has grown to enjoy being a femme, he was glad the one he cared about the most was supportive of it. Ratchet understood too, he just wished Bee would've told him sooner so he wouldn't have spend a good amount of their resources preparing for the frame upgrading. And so Bee officially became a femme and even switched his pronouns to be she/her. It was a short while before everyone got the hang of it and all was good. Well, except Sentinel who now not only harassed Bee cuz he hated him but also was being a creep. But except for that all was good.

Blitzwing's reaction would be when they are already dating and Bee shows up wearing a blanket, covering it up as him being cold. At some point Blitz accidentally rips the blanket off and sees Bee's frame. He wasn't sure why Bee was so nervous about it, those were great upgrades! Then he heard how he got those "upgrades" and it made sense. He still loved Bee and didn't care one bit about his new look- well, except the door wings, he couldn't get enough of them and knowing all the common sensitive spots for flight frames he had one hell of a fun time watching Bee be all flustered and fluttery when he touched them. When Bee showed up to another meeting with much more confident attitude he knew something was up. Bee told him about the plans to bring back his old look so he was quite surprised to hear that was scrapped and Bee was a she now. Of course he gave her extra loving that night and maybe they discovered a few new things about her anatomy. Blitz certainly enjoyed every bit of his new-old Bee.

Idk is Longarm/Shockwave would care much. Longarm is more on the mech expression, Shockwave has nb vibes with he/him pronouns. He'd support Bee during his journey of coping and discovery and he'd be happy when Bee finds his new self that he's happy with. i'm not really sure what to write here tbh.

And that's it. Hope you liked it!

[thefirstknife]

I wasn't aware of the discussions around Eramis being that rancid, personally (although I tend not to look at online discussion around media in general, thanks to how skin-deep at best much of it tends to be).

But the way you've talked about it makes me wonder how much of the people complaining about Eramis's character development are coming at it from a dislike of the idea of that redemption being a thing at all- the perspective that Doing Bad Things makes someone A Bad Person who can no longer be A Good Person, essentially. Seems like that mentality has grown... if not more common, at least louder, over time.

(Although your comment about not seeing why they'd 'pull a shocking twist for the sake of pulling a shocking twist to spite the audience' is a little funny in a sad way, considering how many people seem to think "outwit the audience and surprise them" is more important than "tell a coherent story as well as possible", even changing things if a twist is leaked, even if whatever they change it to makes no damn sense.)

It's really bad out there and it's strange for the exact reason you listed, because the same communities have previously entertained redemption ideas about characters like Calus and even Clovis; characters who have never expressed any wish to change or any beliefs that they may be in the wrong, no regrets and no remorse for what they've done.

So I can't even figure out if this with Eramis is about not wanting redemption stories. I think it's more about Eramis herself; not only is she a female character, but she's very largely and easily misunderstood. A lot of people's interaction with Beyond Light was... not entirely invested (a lot of the community was at the time mad about vaulting and hated everything new on principle), and her other storylines are in seasonal content that's gone now and that was almost universally hated; she was brought back in Plunder and then reappeared briefly in Defiance. A lot of people approached her from the get-go as "just some villain we will kill in the campaign" and then that didn't happen and these people were confused because they never paid any attention to her story. And then by the end of it, it just kinda slipped them by.

I don't know honestly. I may be overthinking it, but I definitely think that a lack of understanding of her story plays a huge role. Whether that's because they missed her story or just didn't pay attention to it or just had no interest in it - and nobody online they interact with offered any insight into her character (lore youtube) - they just don't get what's the fuss and they don't care about her. Some might say this is because the game didn't make people want to care, but I simply disagree. While I enjoy Eliksni stories, they're by far not at the top of my list of favourite things in Destiny so I don't have any special attachment to Eliksni characters, I didn't know Eramis before BL and I was never a diehard fan of her, but I understood her story and what they wanted to do with her for the past 4 years.

And I was happy that she got her character arc completed as was intended. I saw where it was going and this solution is the only one that made sense to me. So I don't think the whole "the game didn't make me care enough because it was badly set up" really holds water. The game can't put thoughts into your brain, sometimes you have to actually think about characters for yourself. Like, we shouldn't have to be spoon-fed that hard. Her arc and the setup was clear and it was written into the game's story, a lot of it even outside of lore books ("It was just in the lore books!" is a major complaint a lot of the time, and one I personally find baffling. You're in the Lore Books The Game. If you don't like lore being in lore books, you're in the wrong place).

We could honestly discuss this to no end, and everyone who dislikes Eramis or the conclusion to her story would probably have a different reason for it, or there would at least be a couple of them, not wanting redemption included. Could also be a combination - not understanding her story will lead a lot of people to think that her being redeemed makes no sense and that it wasn't supposed to happen.

I think it's also a case of people having a really hard time understanding that a character can be our ally while still hating our guts. I've seen plenty of comments from people saying they're annoyed about Eramis constantly being antagonistic towards us. This is baffling to me, because again, it makes sense that she doesn't like us. And it would be bizarre if all Eliksni were now suddenly fans of humanity like a hivemind. Some will never like us. This is good. They will still help us because there's bigger fish to fry, but they don't have to like us.

Eramis was a delight this episode to me and she was a really interesting character. She wasn't a huge deal overall and some of her story was fairly on the sidelines, but she was a very unique "villain" and antagonist to us since she was introduced and I think that her character arc was very well done all things considered. This amount of resistance and dislike for her from the wider community is something I simply can't see as anything other than a lack of understanding of the story (personal reasons and stuff like "I get it, I just don't really care that much" not included).

[dharmafox]

Any musing and analysis of the Medicine Seller in Ayakashi's Bake Neko vs. Mononoke 👀?

Well, I think there's a pretty strong implication that the Medicine Seller's personality changed as a result of the events of "Bakeneko." In the series he's a lot less friendly with humans, a lot less interested in saving people, and a lot more emotionally subdued. Given some of the stuff he says and does in "Umi Bozu," I think he was seriously considering giving up the whole mononoke-slaying game for a while there.

He dodges Kayo's response by talking about how he can't possibly slay all the ayakashi in the world, but I'm pretty sure he knew what she meant by "an ayakashi or something." He also says later that he's "still a Medicine Seller," like he's thinking he might not be much longer.

There's no doubt he was powerfully affected by the Bakeneko. He said so himself.

There's a reason the final arc is another "Bakeneko" with the cast being reincarnated versions of the people in the first one. I think he needed to find that second Bakeneko and put it to rest before he could move on.

What interests me most these days is how much more similar he is in "Bakeneko" to the second Medicine Seller in Karakasa. They're both more expressive, more invested in people. It makes me wonder if all Medicine Sellers are "born" with similar personalities, with those personalities becoming more individual in response to the people and circumstances they encounter. In that case, maybe the second Medicine Seller would have become very similar to the first if he'd ended up in the same circumstances. I'm interested to see how his personality will develop as he encounters the second mononoke in the movies, and the third.

Since all Medicine Sellers come from Shuuga, which is similar to a "collective unconscious" and exists outside of time and space, maybe the Medicine Sellers aren't even individuals until they're among humans. Maybe it's being among humans that makes them individuals, and then their original natures come to reflect the natures of the people they encounter. In that sense, any Medicine Seller could easily become any other Medicine Seller, if placed in the right set of circumstances.

So maybe the Medicine Seller in "Bakeneko" could be seen as a link between his original nature and who he is in the series. He's in a state of "unbecoming" whoever—or whatever—he was before and becoming who he will be next: the kind of Medicine Seller the world needs next, the one who can take out the Zashiki Warashi, the Umi Bozu, the Nopperabou, the Nue, and finally the second Bakeneko.

[thecottagecorebisexuals]

Yeah it's definitely telling about society. Hamefura is intended to be mindless fun rather than thought provoking social commentary but there are so many elements to analyze that don't get very expanded on (like Sora getting sold bc he tried stealing the medicine to save his mentor bc it was too expensive) in it that I'm saying "hold up, you can't drop this and leave it at that" many times throughout it.

About how FL affects Hamefura, we do know that some things just have to happen (like Pochi for example or Catarina getting accused of bullying Maria) but it's in a very flexible way. So fate definitely exists but maybe not in a set in stone way. I feel that we have a script that it's written mostly in graphite pencil with some words written with ink and we have an eraser for the pencil but no way to change the ink.

That's pretty interesting! And more confidence definitely is essential in the makeover™️. Which is why the shallowness social commentary they sometimes have often falls flat to me, since beauty and confidence are never really separated in them. Irl they're a bit connected ofc but movies don't visually commit to separate them.

My Next Life as a Villainess provides an interesting commentary on how appearances do change the way people perceive you, but it doesn't feel intentional

Because the Unnamed girl who reincarnated into Katarina has the same personality she had in her previous life once she regained her memories and that obviously is a huge part of what draws people to her, but we literally only see her with one friend in her previous life, when she's less conventionally attractive (she's not even unattractive, she's just like plain)

Yet in her new life everyone wants to be around her and be her friend (or her significant other) and it's not her personality that's different in this, it's her appearance

And literally the show, manga, and light novels don't go into any of this at all really, it's just there lurking in the background

Which is fascinating in its own right as it makes it difficult to tell if it's because it's unintentional on the author's part or if it's intentional but not something they want to deeply address, either way, I still think it's important overall

[firstelevens]

22 for sambucky? :)

22. things you said after it was over

It would be nice, Sam decides, if the people around him could acknowledge, just one time, that he's a goddamn professional.

Sure, they're willing to trust his tactical assessments and follow his plans in the field, and there's plenty of mentoring opportunities where they actively seek out his advice, but apparently that doesn't mean shit. Apparently, at the end of the day, Sam's team--and a number of people who aren't on Sam's team, which is kind of the problem--is convinced that he'll handle any given awkward situation with all the grace and professionalism of a thirteen-year-old.

Nobody has said as much, of course, but he can feel all of their eyes on him, their interest barely disguised as they watch him from across the jet. Whatever world-ending threat it is that demands the presence of both Team Cap and the Thunderbolts, it's been overshadowed by the mere act of Sam walking across the jet to sit beside his ex.

Bucky, at least, doesn't give him anything more than a glance of acknowledgment as Sam takes a seat on the bench. There's about a foot of space between them, and Sam is abruptly reminded of the time when there used to be no space there at all, when the furthest that either of them could bear to be was still near enough to orbit the other.

"Torres still thinks I'm the one who broke up with you and you're covering for me," Bucky says, by way of greeting. His jaw is tight, so different from the sweet smile he used to send Sam's way when he was about to either be very sweet or a complete nuisance. "You might want to refresh your team on intel gathering."

Sam snorts, but he doesn't feel particularly like laughing. "If Torres can't believe the truth when he hears it, we've got much bigger problems than how he thinks our relationship ended."

All he gets in response is a grunt, Bucky's eyes focusing back on the paperback in his hands.

"I'm not here to talk about Torres, anyway," says Sam.

"No?" asks Bucky, flat. "And I was so sure you were here to braid my hair and tell me that he finally asked you out."

Sam, a goddamn professional, ignores the jibe. "I'm here because AJ's twelfth birthday is next week, and Sarah says you still haven't RSVP-ed."

"What do you mean?" asks Bucky. "I told her weeks ago I couldn't make it."

"Yeah, that was the wrong answer," says Sam, crossing his arms. "It's AJ's birthday. Everyone he loves is going to be there. You're not skipping it."

Bucky's eyes narrow in irritation, and although it's directed at Sam, he still feels a rush of relief that it's no longer the closed-off expression he was getting earlier. "Is that an order, Cap?" he sneers. "You know I don't answer to you anymore, right?"

"You never answered to me to start with," snaps Sam. "And it's not an order; it's an invitation."

"I know I'm getting up there in years, so maybe my memory's going, but invitations are usually requests, aren't they?" asks Bucky. "There's not generally a right answer."

"Fine. It's not an invitation. It's a reminder," he says. "AJ loves you and you love him. He wants you at his party, and you wouldn't break his heart by missing it."

Bucky scowls, crossing his arms. "You sound very sure of yourself."

"Oh, I am," Sam says. "I already worked it out with Sarah and everything."

He can see Bucky trying not to take the bait, but after a long moment, Bucky's frown gets deeper as he asks, "Worked what out with Sarah?"

"AJ and I are going on a trip before his birthday to celebrate, just the two of us," says Sam. "The day of the party, I'll be on call, so I won't be there. For whatever it's worth."

But naturally, Bucky can't let anything be easy, so he gets all huffy. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, Sam. Why would you be on call during AJ's birthday party?"

Sam mirrors Bucky's scowl. He hasn't missed these arguments. "So we can fix the stupidest thing I've ever heard, which is you telling Sarah that AJ's favorite person can't come to his birthday party because it would be 'uncomfortable' for one person who's not even that relevant to the party."

"It's AJ's birthday," says Bucky. "His uncle should be there."

"And he will be," says Sam, with his fiercest glare. "Right?"

He watches realization color Bucky's face, slowly melting into wonder.

"Oh," says Bucky, softly. The look on his face, all tender, heartbreaking awe, triggers Sam's muscle memory so fast that his hands are reaching out to hold Bucky almost before he realizes that it's happening. He snatches them back as soon as he clocks it, but Bucky is clearly too caught up to notice either way.

"Yeah, oh," Sam says, trying for the even tone he'd used earlier. "So you'll be there?"

Bucky nods shakily, his eyes still wide. They look a little glossy, maybe, but Sam can't fault him for that.

"I'll be there," he whispers. "Thank you, Sam."

"Of course," says Sam, pushing off the bench seat. He clears his throat. "Be safe out there."

"You, too," is the immediate response. There's a drawing-in of breath, like maybe Bucky has something more to say, but nothing else follows, and eventually, Sam is out of reasons to stay. It's hard to pull himself out of Bucky's orbit all the same.

[peliginspeaks]

Hey gang I just realized that I don't think Null can pass the mirror test? Which in the context of their past profession and Flondon in general is. Hilarious

Context: the mirror test is a test of intelligence for animals (and development for small children) to see if they realize that the person in the mirror is Them and not another baby/cat/whatever. I'm pretty sure it tests the intelligence needed to realize how reflections work, but it also needs a sense of self, and since Null straight up Doesn't Have One I just... don't think they would pass. Which is hilarious because by sheer luck their assumption that the reflection is a whole other person is in fact kind of right in the Neath.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Hey, Star Trek Writers... -taps the glass-

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Free time has (sort of) arrived

(cat is katsrkole on instagram)

[set-wingedwarrior]

I know it happens often to see writers during a long fic to complain at some point about the first chapters because they got better in the meantime and they look bad to them now.

But this is the first time where I saw this happened when the writing actually got worse

[nedlittle]

[alt]

2x21 "crisis" really is a perfect episode

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent ones of these even though they all look the same lol.. forcing myself to document progress..