#so I'm just throwing this one out there lol

[muniimyg]

♡ 01: baby, i'm a dog

series m.list // taglist

note: welcome to part 1 !!! this fic is def a diff vibe ,, kinda chill and jus sad LOL … tbh if i hate it i’ll jus edit it as a one shot cos #yolo #idc but also…. i fear this jk is a vibe

//

the cabin's front door slams shut behind jungkook.

his laughter spills into the cold air as he jogs to his car, tossing the keys to taehyung mid-stride. 

the hoseok and nam joon had roped him into a last-minute supply run—apparently, they underestimated just how much beer and snacks a group this size could burn through in one night. the crunch of snow under his boots and the slap of wind against his face brought a sharp clarity, a brief reprieve from the weight he'd felt the entire drive up here. 

he works nonstop all year… he only gets a few days of vacation. yet, this is how he spends his precious leisure days.

a part of him is still trying to figure out why he even came.

"think fast, shithead!" taehyung called, tossing the keys back. 

jungkook catches them effortlessly, smirking as he spins them around his finger.

as he opens his mouth to make a comeback, the sound of tires crunching over ice makes his chest go tight. instantly, he recognizes that it’s yoongi’s girlfriend’s car—but something about the way it’s driven pulls him further into himself.

jungkook is a car guy. 

he’s the car guy and knowing cars means knowing the people behind the wheel.

the way they park, the way they brake, even the rhythm of their turns.

and this car?

it parks too carefully, too smoothly.

it’s muscle memory that makes him stand straighter, his heart stumbling over itself. because he knows exactly whose hands are gripping the wheel before he even sees your face.

taking a few steps back, he watches as the suv rolls into the driveway, something heavy settling in his chest.

the sound of the car door opening snaps him out of his daze.

and it all suddenly feels like a fever dream. 

with the snow falling slowly and the way his heart skips a beat—you step out and completely stop his world.

you’re bundled in a cream puffer jacket and your cheeks flushed from the cold…

and you smile at him.

like, really smile at him. 

and jungkook thinks to himself; 

fuck.

you’re still so pretty. 

so fucking pretty. 

then, his mind blanks. 

he doesn’t know how to move, doesn’t even know how to breathe. all he can do is stare.

“jungkook!”

before he can even respond, you’re walking toward him, arms open.

he freezes when you hug him.

it’s not long—just enough to share a little warmth—but it’s enough to knock the air clean out of his lungs.

three years.

it’s been three years since he’s seen you, and now you’re here, wrapping him in a moment that feels too easy for all the time that’s passed.

is... is this easy for you?

because he can't breathe right now.

“i convinced her to come last minute,” yoongi’s girlfriend, mei, says. she’s practically bouncing with excitement. “the weather grounded her flight, and i told her it’d be way better to spend a few days with us than to sit around waiting.”

you pull back from jungkook and smile up at him like it’s nothing.

like he hasn’t been caught in the shockwave of your presence.

like you aren't the love of his life.

“figured it’d be fun,” you say lightly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. you glance around and squeal at the sight of your old friendgroup. “plus, i missed you guys.”

the others swarm in, laughing and throwing their arms around you, saying how long it’s been. jungkook hangs back, struggling to keep up with the reality in front of him. this wasn’t how he thought this trip was going to go.

as jin and yoongi haul your bags toward the cabin, you turn back to jungkook. your shoulder bumps against his as you tilt your head.

“is it okay that i’m here?”

he blinks at you.

“why wouldn’t it be?”

your shrug and look around. “nam joon’s your friend. this is his family cabin… i’m just your—“

“it’s fine,” he interrupts you.

silence.

then, you break it with a question and your signature soft tone.

“did i surprise you?”

jungkook nods stiffly, words caught in his throat.

"good."

... is all you say before you’re gone, following the others into the cabin, leaving him standing in the cold.

it takes a second, but his feet move on their own, trailing after you without a second thought. like a dog, he thinks, tail wagging behind its owner.

his hands clench into fists at his sides as he walks, the cold biting at his skin through his jacket.

you're here.

you're actually here.

they have invited you over and over again to friendgroup trips and you've only attended a handful of times. take note that those specific times were the ones where jungkook had rsvp'd no.

so this...

this?

this is completely beyond him.

you... in the flesh feels like some cruel cosmic joke to him. the kind of joke where the punchline cuts deep and leaves a scar.

three years.

three fucking years of trying not to think about you, of convincing himself he’d moved on.

three years of pretending he didn’t still see you in every corner of his life. he told himself he'd be ready for this moment if it ever came—that he'd have the right words, the right attitude, anything but the mess of disbelief and guilt twisting in his chest right now.

but here you are, running into his arms like none of it matters. like the years apart haven’t clawed at him the way they clearly didn’t claw at you.

he knows he shouldn’t be surprised.

you always were good at carrying things with grace, even when he was busy breaking them—breaking you.

a part of him feels bitter. he wishes you had a mean bone in your body. perhaps, he'd feel better... but you don't and all he's can think about is how good you smell.

“what the fuck," jungkook mutters under his breath, dragging a hand down his face as he steps into the cabin.

the warmth inside doesn’t reach him.

not really.

his heart is still somewhere out there in the cold, stuck in that driveway where you looked at him like nothing’s changed.

like he’s still someone worth smiling at.

as you get settled, jungkook and taehyung excuse themselves again and leave for their little grocery run.

when they come back, an hour later—the plastic grocery bags cutting into his fingers as he kicks the snow off his boots.

laughter drifts from the kitchen, light and easy, mingling with the clatter of pots and pans. the scent of something savory hangs in the air, and for a moment, he lets it lull him, the warmth easing the tension in his shoulders.

“finally,” yoongi groans, swooping in to grab some bags from jungkook. “we thought you guys got lost or something.”

“tae couldn’t decide between doritos and cheetos,” jungkook mutters, rolling his eyes as he shrugs off his coat. “turns out we needed both.”

“damn right we did,” taehyung calls from behind him, slamming the door shut with his foot.

jungkook lets their banter fade into the background, his eyes instinctively drawn toward the kitchen. 

you’re there. 

standing near the counter, sleeves rolled up as you stir something in a pot. your hair’s pulled back, a few loose strands framing your face. you’re laughing at something yoongi’s girlfriend says, your hands moving gracefully as you gesture, completely at ease.

the view of you is so clear, yet so vivid in his memory.

it makes his heart ache.

it’s like you’ve always been here, laughing, stirring pots, and looking so effortlessly beautiful it makes his chest ache.

like he’s coming home to you again. 

“earth to jungkook?” jimin snaps his fingers in front of his face, smirking when jungkook blinks, caught. “you good?”

“yeah.” the word comes out too sharp, and he clears his throat, shrugging past jimin. “just gonna change.”

he doesn’t wait for a response and heads upstairs. the weight in his chest grows heavier with every step, a knot tightening in his stomach. when he reaches his room and pushes the door open, he freezes.

his bags aren’t where he left them.

instead, a collection of white baggage are stacked neatly in the corner. irritation flares, but it’s quickly doused by confusion—and a sinking realization.

“jungkook?” your voice calls softly from behind him, and he turns to see you at the top of the stairs, slightly out of breath.

you’re holding onto the banister, your other hand fiddling with the hem of your sweater. the soft fabric brushes your fingers as you glance at him, your expression tentative.

“the girls—um—mei, bria, and the others—they thought it’d be better if we moved your stuff,” you say, stepping closer. your voice is calm, and measured, but there’s a nervous energy in the way your eyes dart toward his. “i told them it wasn’t necessary, but they figured it’d be easier if... well, you know.”

jungkook leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“so you’re gonna take my room?”

“it was our room for three years.”

“it’s been three years.”

“that’s true,” you hesitate, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “they put your stuff in jimin’s room. but i was just coming up to say, i can totally switch and room with joon’s girlfriend and make joon and jimin room together. i mean, it’d be a good chance to bond—”

“take the room.” his voice cuts through your rambling, low and firm.

your eyes widen slightly. 

“are you sure? i really don’t mind—”

“yeah,” he says, shrugging. “the only other option would be to share it with me… so…”

you pause, a laugh bubbling out before you can stop it. 

“that’d be crazy, right?”

something flickers across his face, too quick for you to catch. then, he straightens, his expression calm but his words heavy. 

“would it be though?”

the question hangs in the air, your laughter fading as his gaze lingers on you. his tone is light, almost teasing, but there’s something beneath it—something you can’t quite name.

you look away, brushing your hand over the doorframe as if needing something to ground you. 

“thanks, jungkook,” you say softly, the words carrying a warmth that feels too intimate. “i appreciate it.”

but before you turn, your hand reaches out, ruffling his hair in that way you used to when you thought he was being ridiculous. 

his breath catches, and he doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink as your fingertips graze his scalp.

then you’re gone, your footsteps fading as you head back downstairs.

jungkook exhales, his head tipping back against the doorframe as he stares at the ceiling. “fuck,” he mutters under his breath, the weight in his chest now impossibly heavier.

by the time jungkook come down the stairs, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the space he follows behind you, catching the way the group immediately perks up. all eyes turning toward you both, and jin yells out, "look who finally decided to join the party!"

taehyung grins, his voice too cheerful for someone who clearly has something up his sleeve. 

“you two are late to the conversation, so you’re being voluntold to go back to town and grab some oil. we forgot to buy oil.”

jungkook freezes mid-step, his brows furrowing. 

“the fuck? i just got back. are you serious?”

you turn and see jungkook’s frustration bubbling up already as he turns to bicker with the guys, his voice rising in playful annoyance. “hyung, you couldn't just... check the damn list? are you fucking serious? i don’t want to go back—”

taehyung laughs, “we were too busy enjoying ourselves. you had fun with me! remember? we got both—”

“fuck that,” jungkook huffs. “i’m not going back—”

“you have to—”

“no, i don’t.”

“jungkook, you’re the youngest too—”

“why does that fucking matter?”

the group chuckles, but jungkook’s not laughing.

you watch jungkook’s face twist with irritation, the way his jaw tightens with every word that’s said. he’s always been like this—quick to snap when he feels cornered. it’s like he can’t stand being told what to do. 

he can’t. 

god, he really hates being pushed around.

you’ve always known that about him. yet, a part of you feels bad for him. 

“no. fuck that.” his voice is sharp, a little louder than it needs to be. “i’m not going back—”

the others try to reason with him even more, but his deflection is clear. 

it’s always the same with him, especially when he feels like he's being challenged. you can’t help but shake your head a little, a sigh almost escaping your lips as you glance at the group, waiting for the inevitable back-and-forth.

he’s the youngest, of course. always the youngest. always expected to just follow along, to do things because it’s “his turn” or whatever bullshit they’re using this time. 

you feel your own resolve settle, the urge to take control bubbling up before you can stop it. without even thinking, you walk over to taehyung, reach over, and grab the the car keys from his hand. 

you do it quickly, not even glancing at anyone else, just deciding in that moment that you’ve had enough of the back-and-forth.

“oil. anything else?” you ask, your tone light, almost too casual, as if this is no big deal.

you hear the group chuckle, but you're not listening to them. 

you’re watching jungkook now, his surprise registering only for a second before the annoyance flickers back into his eyes. 

he doesn’t have a choice now.

he hates this.

jungkook rolls his eyes, but it's too late—he knows it’s happening now. he snatches the keys back from your hand with a heavy sigh. he doesn’t look at you, but the slight dip in his shoulders gives him away. 

he’s still annoyed, but it doesn’t matter.

not if it’s about you. 

suddenly, he’s putting his boots on and slams the door. then, the sound of his car engine starting fills the silence. everyone turns to you in disbelief. 

“huh," you tilt your head. "i guess he's driving.”

the car ride is silent, the engine purring smoothly beneath you.

jungkook’s car is new (to you, at least) and he drives like he’s trying to put as much distance between himself and the group as possible.

his knuckles are tight around the wheel, and every so often, his eyes flicker to you, then back to the road. you can feel the tension building up again, but neither of you says anything.

the store comes up quick, and you both slip inside. jungkook grabs the oil without a word, and as you stand by the aisle, you notice the carton of oat milk in his hand—your favourite brand too. 

you blink. 

“they didn’t ask for oat milk.”

he doesn’t look at you as he sets the carton into the basket, but there’s a quiet, almost hesitant shift in his posture.

“yeah. i know.”

you want to say something, anything, but you swallow the words. 

it’s just oat milk. 

back in the car, you both buckle up in silence, and jungkook starts the engine with a soft grumble. the snow outside is heavier now, falling in thick, swirling sheets, the road barely visible.

the car stalls.

jungkook curses under his breath, his hands working over the wheel like he’s already analyzing what’s wrong. you watch him, knowing he’s not going to admit it, but it’s obvious.

“looks like we’re stuck for a bit,” he mutters. “better wait for the snow to calm down.”

you lean back in your seat, the quiet pressing in. there’s nowhere to go but forward now, and it’s strange, this calm in the middle of nowhere with him beside you, neither of you saying much.

the snow pounds against the windshield. jungkook shifts in his seat, tapping his fingers against the wheel as he watches the storm.

as jungkook stares at the snow pounds against the windshield, you stare at him.

you wait for him to say something. 

anything. 

but jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes.

his gaze is fixed on the road, his hands tight on the steering wheel. you can feel the distance between you two—the years, the hurt, the things that never got said. the things you did say… 

“so,” you start, your voice soft, the words almost hesitant. “how are you?”

jungkook scoffs.

“don’t.”

“don’t what?” you ask. “it’s been a while. i only really see what you’re up to via social media. you opened your own shop, right? i’m so proud of you. i know how long you’ve wanted to do that.”

jungkook nods. 

“yeah…” his response is immediate, but detached. “yeah, i mean… it was a lot easier when i got the right clientelle. so yeah, still doing that. luxury car mechanic bullshit. it’s... all right. not much to update you about.” his tone is nonchalant, almost like he doesn’t care, but you know it’s a front. it’s always been easier for him to hide behind that mask of indifference. 

“i’m sure there’s something—”

“i fix up cars people can’t even pronounce the names of. not a lot of excitement there. just... polishing up things people break, and making money for it.”

“okay,” you nod, your fingers tracing the edge of your seat. “jungkook, it’s me. don’t underplay this with me.”

he shrugs. 

for the first time in three years; you feel it again.

you feel this… sense of anger? annoyance?

hurt. 

jungkook is well known in the city. 

he's the go-to mechanic for luxury cars—bentleys, ferraris, lambos—if you've got money and a car that needs fixing, you go to him… and while we’re here; let’s brag about it. 

jungkook is not just any mechanic; he's the top of the game. he’s the most trusted in the industry, and somehow, he's built a reputation that makes even the richest clients feel like they’re getting something special.

most of them don't know it, but jungkook is lucky—unbelievably lucky. 

he didn’t come from money, didn’t grow up with connections or a silver spoon in his mouth. hell, he's still the kind of guy who wears sweat pants and a hoodie to work… but he's got an uncanny knack for fixing cars, his hands working like magic around every engine and every screw. it's a skill that came naturally to him, no effort needed—he was born with it. 

and that, somehow, has carried him through life.

the thing is, jungkook knows he's a loser. 

a lovable one, sure, but a loser nonetheless. 

he might be great with cars, but he's not the type to flaunt his success. his garage is both chaotic and high-end, a mix of organized chaos and state-of-the-art equipment, the kind of place that looks like it’s one bad day away from falling apart, but in reality, it's the most trusted name in the city.

he's rough around the edges, but that's part of his charm. he's got the grit to keep going when things get tough, but he stumbles through life in a way that makes everyone around him laugh—except when it comes to cars.

then, he's all business.

the fact that he's self-made, that he’s built everything from the ground up, doesn’t even fully sink in for him. he never asks for anything. the success just... happened, like it was meant to.

in the same sense, he’s a scumbag.

he’s gotten into trouble before, and he’s made his share of mistakes. but somehow, with the luck he’s got, he always lands on his feet. and that’s why, despite being a mess in every other part of his life, jungkook is the guy you call when your sports car breaks down in the middle of nowhere.

in fact, he’s the guy to be with in the middle of a snowy road. 

yet, with all these thoughts… you figure not to push it any further.

the silence stretches again, but this time it’s not quite as awkward. it’s still heavy, though—thick with the things that were never said. and you can feel it, the weight of all that unsaid stuff, but something else creeps in too. a quiet yearning, a reminder of the closeness you once had.

“how’s work for you?”

you clear your throat and chirp up.

“it’s good. great, actually. dior signed me to be their permanent event planner. i got to work with ysl and chanel last year so that was cool… lots of travelling… i don’t know. it’s been… fun. i think i’ve done a lot since...” 

“that’s good,” jungkook breathes. “i’m happy for you.” 

“really?”

“really.”

you let out a relieved breath.

“you know, i always refer my clients to your shop. truth be told, i found out about your shop through them before you even posted on social media.”

he flicks a glance at you, but it’s fleeting. 

“why?” he scoffs, but there’s no real anger behind it, just frustration. “you shouldn’t have…”

you wince slightly, but it’s not a judgment. you get it. you always have. the way he pushes people away, like he’s afraid of being too close to anyone, like caring might break him.

“we were in it together,” you reply, your voice quiet but warm. “life. our careers… everything. just because it didn’t work out between us doesn’t mean i was going to leave it as it was. i couldn’t help it. i thought of you whenever my clients complained about their cars. i thought of you whenever your favourite model drove past me. i thought of you, jungkook. how could i not? we spent three years together… so, don’t do that please. don’t act like the past three years haven’t been good to you… because as much as i could, i tried to send you some good. there was good.”

“okay,” he huffs out a breath, his shoulders tense. he’s quiet for a beat too long, and just when you think he might shut down, he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible. “i appreciate it. all of it.”

“you’re welcome,” you smile. 

then, you turn and watch the snow falling heavier now, the world outside becoming more and more a blur. 

“you know,” you say, your voice almost teasing, trying to ease the weight of the moment, “your mom calls me on my birthday every year.”

his eyes flick to you again, almost imperceptibly, but it’s there. a flash of something in his eyes. a crack in the cool mask he’s built up. 

“sorry,” he apologizes. “i… shit, ___. you know, you’re her favourite.”

“don’t be,” you smile, though there’s a hint of sadness in it. “she’s my favourite too.”

then, he’s quiet again, but this time, there’s a softening to his expression, the edge of defensiveness slipping away. 

you let the silence settle again, the two of you wrapped in the quiet of the car and the storm outside. but this time, it feels different. not easy, not perfect. but it feels like maybe—just maybe—this is the first real conversation you’ve had in years.

and that’s enough for now.

the cabin feels smaller when you get back, and the weight of jungkook’s presence only makes it tighter. the group’s immediately apologizing, teasing him about the oil run, their words sharp but light. 

“we totally forgot, man,” taehyung says, looking guilty. “guess you guys are our personal delivery service.”

jungkook doesn’t respond, his face already scrunching into an exaggerated grimace as he heads straight to the kitchen to help. you’re unsure if it’s from irritation or just sheer exhaustion.

maybe both, you think as you follow him. 

but the moment passes quickly, and you’re both swept back into the warmth of the group’s energy.

it’s dinner time soon after, and the room is buzzing. the conversation is loud, comfortable, with everyone laughing and sharing stories. jungkook and you sit across from each other, the space between you both thick and quiet. your presence seems to be the only thing that pulls him from his usual nonchalance—every time you speak, even the smallest comment, he cracks a smile, almost like he can’t help it.

yoongi catches it first, raising an eyebrow at jungkook. 

“what’s up with you, kid? you only smile when ___ talks. what? the rest of us aren’t funny enough for you?” his voice is teasing but his gaze lingers, as if looking for something more.

jungkook rolls his eyes, brushing it off with a half-hearted scoff. 

mei, sitting next to yoongi, shakes her head. she nudges you and you laugh it off. then, you lift your face and meet jungkook’s eyes. he offers you a short-lived smile. 

you take it. 

the jokes keep coming, but the way jungkook’s eyes flick to you each time you speak doesn’t go unnoticed. 

it’s subtle, the way his lips curve just a little, how his eyes soften just a fraction whenever you make a joke or offer your thoughts. but it’s enough. the others catch it, too, exchanging glances behind their drinks, a quiet realization settling between them.

after dinner, everyone migrates to the living room, pulling chairs and sofas closer to the fire. taehyung sets up the drinks, jin and hobi are already messing with the fire, adding logs with unnecessary dramatic flair, and namjoon is flipping through a deck of cards.

“we should play charades,” jimin suggests, his voice light as he pours more wine into his glass.

“charades? yeah, we could use some entertainment,” jin agrees, his gaze drifting between the group. “but i’m not going easy on you guys.”

you end up on the same team as jungkook.

when it’s your turn to act out a word, you both fall into an easy rhythm. your gestures are sharp and exaggerated, and jungkook picks up on your cues instantly, his movements smooth and fluid. there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of you, the way your eyes meet for half a second before you both act out the next part of the clue. 

honestly, it’s like no time has passed since you last did this, and everyone else watches with mild surprise, the chemistry between you two almost palpable.

nam joon and taehyung share an amused glance, their eyes widening slightly, while jin snorts quietly. 

“okay, okay, we get it. you two are too good at this,” jimin says, shaking his head with a laugh.

“they’re like a team built for charades,” namjoon mutters, and yoongi, always perceptive, smirks.

“it’s like they can read each other’s minds,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you both. “almost makes me uncomfortable.”

you can feel the weight of their glances, the way they subtly watch every interaction, waiting for something to shift. and when the game finally wraps up, everyone is drunk, laughter louder and voices more relaxed.

conversation moves from silly jokes to more serious topics, the kind that happens when the alcohol hits just right. somehow, everyone feels like they’re safe enough to let their guard down.

hoseok mentions work—how it’s been a mess lately, how nothing seems to be going right, and the conversation shifts into the stress of adulthood, of managing expectations and responsibilities.

“sometimes it feels like i’m drowning in it,” hoseok admits, rubbing his temples. “i mean, we’re doing okay, but god, it’s like every time i take a breath, there’s another problem.”

“sounds about right,” taehyung agrees, sipping his drink. “adulting sucks.”

the conversation flows around you, but then someone cracks a joke, and you reply with your usual snark. jungkook chuckles, and it’s a real, honest laugh, something that sounds familiar, something that feels like the version of him you used to know.

bria, who’s been quiet for most of the night, turns her gaze to jungkook, her eyes flicking between him and you with a raised brow. it’s obvious she’s drunk, so jungkook mentally prepares for the worst. 

“jungkook?”

“what do you want?” he sighs. “you’re drunk so choose your words carefully, bria. last time we talked while you were drunk like this, i made you cry for an hour.”

bria rolls her eyes at jungkook. 

“guess it’s my turn then,” she inhales deeply. “my turn to make you cry.”

jungkook gulps, but he tries his best to mask his fear. 

he knows exactly who she’s gonna target. 

“yah, do you think you’re slick or something?” bria asks. “why do you always laugh at ___'s jokes but no one else’s? you look at her and practically salivate. are you a dog? do you like her or something?” 

the group goes quiet. 

it’s then everyone realizes that it’s bria’s first cabin trip. even yoongi, who’s usually too aloof for moments like this, pauses, his gaze sharp as it flicks between you and jungkook. there’s a tension, thick enough to make your chest tighten, and you feel the eyes of the group on you.

it’s like the breath has been knocked out of the room. bria’s words hang between you and jungkook, heavy and unwelcome.

for a second, no one says anything.

you can feel the heat in your cheeks, the way everything seems to slow down. 

your mind races. 

“we’re exes.”

bria’s voice cuts through the silence again, softer this time. “oh, shit… fuck, right. yeah. i remember now… i guess it never clicked because i’ve only known you for a few months…”

“yeah,” jimin pulls bria close. he gestures towards the direction of their room. she shakes her head, refusing his obvious cue. “babe, let’s get you to bed—”

“no, wait… just w-wait. you and ___? but you two... are literally perfect for each other. what happened?” bria blurts, her tone genuine and almost searching.

you catch the way jungkook’s body tenses up.

from across the group, you chase for his eyes. they meet for the first time all night and you swear—there’s a flicker of something there. 

something soft and promising. 

something almost like love, but a lot like loss. 

as quickly as you see it, it fades away. so, you offer him a soft smile. then, shake your head slightly, the movement almost imperceptible. it’s a signal.

don’t answer.

but he doesn’t look away.

and then, as if the silence is unbearable, jungkook speaks, his voice low but steady, almost like it’s been waiting to come out for too long.

“i fucked up,” jungkook admits. “i fucked up like everyone said i would.”

[rosenclaws]

One More Present || Logan Howlett drabble

summary: Logan has one more present for you

warnings: light smut, STILL MINORS DNI AND 18+ ONLY TY, light bondage lol

wc: 546

a/n: So this is a really stupid drabble I thought it would be funny and so here it is lmao. To all the people who wanted a wolverine under their Christmas tree <3

Christmas with your neighbors was more fun than you've had in a long time. It was also the most you've drank in a while. Wade really went all out with his party and his gifts.

Though you really didn't need the uh, interesting picture calendar he had put together for everyone. You're pretty sure you saw Logan throw his into the fireplace when Wade wasn't looking.

The day after Christmas was spent doing pretty much nothing. Logan had taken refuge in your bed as he normally does since you started dating but he was forced to go back to help the clean up. Waking up without your personal space heater was a lonely experience but he left you his flannel at least.

Unfortunately for you, you couldn't escape going back to work and were trapped at your boring job wishing you could be home with Logan instead. Your phone pinged and you looked to see a text from Logan.

Wade's finally fucking gone.

You laugh as you can picture just how much Wade had gotten on Logan's nerves today.

I'm almost done, I miss you

You text back. Logan accidently hits a few different things before finally thumbs uping your message. He really was an old man with technology sometimes. As the time ticked and you were nearing the end of the day you got one more message.

Found something in our bedroom, I think you have one more present to open.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. You can't remember leaving anything and Logan isn't really one for surprise gifts. He would have given it to you yesterday. As you clocked out you tried to call him but he didn't pick up. Weird.

"Logan?" You call as you step through the door.

"In here!" He calls from the bedroom. You shrug off your coat and drop your bag, expecting to find him lounging on the bed or something.

"Hey what..." Your voice trails off as you walk into the room. Logan was laying in bed for sure, but completely naked.

He's smirking as he sits in his totally naked glory. His abs are on full display, thick thighs, and big arms. You swear he was...shiny? But you weren't complaining.

What really catches your eyes is his fat cock, a big red bow tied around it. The red ribbon trailed up his body and sat at one of his wrists which tied him to the bedframe. His muscles flex as he sits up.

"How did you know this is what I asked Santa for?" You tease as you move over to the bed, admiring your stupidly hot boyfriend. He shrugs, the ribbon straining against his muscles.

"You got one more present sweetheart." He looks down to the bow.

"Want to unwrap it?" You smirk as you slowly strip your clothes.

"Merry Christmas to me." You purr as you climb onto the bed.

He watches with hungry eyes as you take the edge of the bow in your teeth and pull it, freeing his cock. Winking as you lower your head. Logan groans as you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, dancing your tongue just the way he likes it. He tugs on the ribbon and somehow it doesn't rip.

"Hope that ribbon can hold you, because I want to have a little fun tonight."

[waynes-multiverse]

*runs to refill tea (and rum)* I'm back, baby! 😎

(Also, before I come across as some drunk, I'd like to clarify I haven't had a drop of alcohol before pregnancy, so Christmas 2022, whoa... 👀🙈😂)

Clearly having a blast and couldn't imagine a better Christmas than reading one of your amazing stories, friend ❤️

Russell happened to spot the cozy little scene from the doorway. He couldn’t help staring, and trying not to frown. When Colter caught sight of his brother loitering (and that look on his face), Colter tried to hide most of his smile.

Loved that little moment of jealousy there. How do you like tasting your own medicine, Russ? 😂

I absolutely loved their pizza and movie date at home. And they already shared so much with each other 🥹 The fact he felt secure enough to open up to her after this short amount of time says a lot, considering Dory hasn't even told her the story yet. I love them 😭🤍

She did offer, he thought, remembering what you’d said at the hospital. And yet, he hesitated.

Honestly, in this day and age, it's always best to wait for renewed consent (even though I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have minded in the least lol). Loved that he recognized that and hesitated!

You watched him go when he headed across the hall back to Charlie’s room. You sighed and beat your hand against your own forehead in frustration. What the hell am I doing?

Poor girl 😂💕 The morning after is always a tad awkward – especially if everything is still in the balance of will they/won't they and nothing *sexual* has happened yet 😅

“Well hey there, cowboy,” you said, adopting a more sensuous tone. “I had a feeling you’d be packing. What’s that, a .45, or a 38 Special?” Russell’s eyes blinked wide. Then he erupted with deep laughter that made his shoulders shake. Aside from throwing a punch, your brother must’ve taught you something about guns too.  “Well thank you, kindly,” Russell said, putting on a bit of a southern drawl, just to tease you. “But you’re about to find out, naughty girl.”

Absolutely adored this exchange! ❤️

Oooof, and that smut may have been my undoing for tonight! Holy hell!!! 😮‍💨🔥🌶️

“You know, drug dealers aside, Laramie isn’t such a bad place to live,” you pointed out. “We’ve got a movie theater, a couple good outlet malls, a new Tex-Mex restaurant that just opened down the street. I’m gonna have to find a new bar though.”

Again, she's so cute 😆🤍

I do hope they work something out. I don't think Russell would've necessarily taken the "big" step, knowing her feelings on this, if he hadn't planned to try and make it work somehow ❤️

He’d found where he wanted to be.

Perfect ending, friend 🥹💚 (You know I love a bit of drama and angst in an ending lol)

I loved this series so goddamn much! It fit so well with every character and gave so much that the show didn't (like that awesome family reunion of the three Shaws). Can't wait to get into the one-shots over the holidays 😍

Again, the merriest of Christmases to you and your family, Alex! Thank you for always being a wonderful friend 🤍🎄

Every Second Counts - Part 5

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: I thought about breaking up this chapter into two parts, but for some reason it didn’t feel right. I hope you enjoy the finale! I think this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for…

Word Count: 7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, ‘90s movie reference, mutual pining and tension, and a strong dose of smut.

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 5: “Damn Worth It”

You borrowed Russell’s cell to call Dory from the hospital. You let her know that Charlie was stable and resting, and that Russell was bringing you home.

You should’ve known that when you two got there, you wouldn’t have the kind of privacy you craved. Colter and Dory were waiting in his car, parked in your driveway. They met you in front of your house, where Dory pulled you into a big, swaying hug. She cried, you cried, and her brothers hung back to watch the warm scene.

Dory pulled back to get a better look at you. She hesitated to touch the bandage above your brow.

“God. Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” you sniffed, wiping at your face. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Dory actually had your keys. After she handed them to you, you took in a steadying breath, and you unlocked your front door without incident this time. You invited everyone in.

Even though you told her not to, Dory began straightening up a bit for you. She had Russell take out the trash while she washed the dishes.

Meanwhile, you pulled Colter aside in the living room. You led him to sit with you on the couch.

“Can I at least give you $1,000?” you asked. It was all you had left in your savings, but the man had literally saved your brother's life, and yours as well. “I know it’s not much, compared to what your jobs usually get you—”

“Please,” Colter said. He touched your arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you and Charlie are safe.”

You teared up all over again, but you gave him a smile and held his hand with both of yours.

“Thank you,” you said.

Russell happened to spot the cozy little scene from the doorway. He couldn’t help staring, and trying not to frown.

When Colter caught sight of his brother loitering (and that look on his face), Colter tried to hide most of his smile. He let go of your hand, patted your shoulder and stood. You followed him to the kitchen, where he went to check on Dory. Russell filtered in behind you both.

“Hey, wanna grab some lunch?” Colter asked his sister.

She gave him a raised brow. “Wow, my brother actually wants to hang out with me instead of rushing off to the next job?”

He gave her an amused look. “I’ve got some time.”

Dory was happy to hear that, but her expression dimmed when she turned to you.

“Would you want to go? Or do you need to rest?” she asked.

“Oh, I need to get cleaned up, and then sleep for about ten years,” you said. “But you go, D. Have fun.”

She frowned. “I don’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

“Well, she won’t be,” Russell chimed in. “I’m gonna hang out here for a bit, clean up and take little power nap myself.”

At that, Dory slowly smiled, both amused and suspicious. Her gaze slid back to you.

“Are you sure?” she asked. You read the double meaning laced in her tone.

“Yeah, definitely,” you said with a smile, and the beginnings of a warm blush. “You guys go ahead.”

There was a knowing gleam to her own smile, but Dory shrugged and gave you one last hug. She and Colter said their goodbyes to their older brother before they headed out. It left you alone in the house with Russell for the first time since this all began.

“Um, you can use the guest bathroom if you want to shower,” you told him. “Towels are under the sink, and feel free to borrow any of Charlie’s clothes if you need.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got a bag in the car with some stuff,” Russell said, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “I take one wherever I go.”

“Smart,” you nodded. “Very prepared.”

A strange silence stretched between you two, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m just…gonna go clean up,” you said. “We can order some food after?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” he said. He was amused as he watched you scurry off, after giving him another smile over your shoulder.

Though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a small trill of nerves himself. It brought him a little bounce in his step as he headed out to his car to grab his stuff.

By the time you were done showering and drying your hair, Russell had ordered a pizza (and a side of fries). You padded out into the living room in an old college shirt and pajama shorts. He tried not to linger his gaze on your smooth, bare legs. 

“Sorry, forgot to ask if you’d want something else to eat,” he said. 

“Pizza is perfect,” you said. At this point, after almost a full day without food, you’d eat sliced bread out of the bag. You gave him a teasing look. “I’d ask you if you wanted a beer, but I’m afraid it’s not up to your standard.”

“Well, that’s okay. I happen to have brought a sample for you, just like I promised,” he said, with that grin of his you’d come to expect.

He retrieved a case of homebrew from his car, but you had to add some ice cubes into a tall glass before you joined him back on the couch. You poured the contents of a bottle into the glass.

“Sorry, I know this is sacrilege, but I can’t drink warm beer,” you said.

“I can’t fault you, though I didn’t really peg you for a pizza and beer kind of girl,” he said. He tipped a swig of beer into his mouth, right from a lukewarm bottle. He was a purist.

You quirked a brow at him and took another bite of your pizza slice. 

“Why not?” you asked, after swallowing a mouthful of pepperoni and mushroom.

Russell shrugged. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“No, no. I want to hear this,” you said. “What, because I teach college students?”

Russell looked over at you and leaned on his elbow, resting above his knee. 

“You’re a college professor with a handful of degrees,” he said. “I’ve got a GED and a give ‘em hell outlook on life.”

You shook your head at that. 

“We’re different. That’s not a bad thing,” you said. “And like my brother, you’ve fought for this country. You’ve saved lives, including mine. I’d say that’s pretty damn special.”

His head tilted at that. He didn’t want to remind you that, just like you saw today, he’d taken lives too. Perhaps just as many as he’d saved. You could debate the quality of those lives, but in the grand scheme of things, he knew what he was. A trained killer.

He rolled his shoulders, feeling a familiar weight.

You didn’t like the pensive look on his face, so you aimed to distract him.

“Want to watch a movie?” you suggested.

Russell inclined his head. “Sure. What you got?”

That was how the two of you ended up finishing the box of pizza and a case of beer while laughing at Tommy Boy, of all things—one of the best '90s buddy road trip comedies of all time. Apparently Russell had never seen it before, but you enjoyed watching him experience it for the first time. He had a deep, infectious laugh that made you laugh just by proximity. 

Later in the movie, the reluctant, unlikely duo of Tommy and Richard hit a deer, and tried to transport it in the car. Russell both laughed and cringed when the animal woke up and thoroughly wrecked the car from the inside. You noticed his reaction and nudged him in the arm. 

Russell held in a grunt of pain when you unintentionally hit his injured shoulder, bandaged underneath his gray henley. 

“What if that was the Chevelle,” you teased. 

He cast you a playfully chiding look. “Woman, don’t even joke.”

You laughed and squeezed his forearm in a friendly gesture. But he thought there was more than just friendliness when you shot him that little smile. He decided to take a chance. 

“Come ‘ere,” he said. He slid a hand around your waist and guided you closer until you came to lay against his side. You allowed yourself to rest against him, splaying your hand flat against the firm wall of his chest. Your heart tripped up faster, but you also relaxed more fully for the first time since you got home. You let out a long breath, and you used the remote to lower the volume on the movie a little.

“Do you think Charlie will be able to get past this?” you asked quietly. “Think he’ll be okay?”

Russell hummed as he thought back to his conversation with your brother in the hospital. Charlie was still young, but he seemed to realize what he’d done, and what he needed to change. He wouldn’t have volunteered himself for rehab if he hadn’t.

Russell brushed your arm with his thumb. “Well, I think he knows what he needs to do. If he’s anything like you, then he’ll be all right.”

Your mouth tugged upward, though you considered his words with a sigh.

“He hasn’t had it easy,” you said. “He was barely eighteen when our parents died. Suddenly he had to be an adult. In fact, he almost didn’t finish high school. Had to take care of the funeral, had to get a job, had to take care of me…and I didn’t always make it easy on him.”

Russell’s lips curved in light of your faint smile. Then, your expression dimmed.

“He pulled me out of the car,” you admitted. Russell looked down at you.

“You all were there?” he asked. 

“My dad was driving. We’d just gone out to dinner as a family,” you said.

You hesitated as the scenes once again filtered through your mind. Some things were hazy. Others, you could see with perfect clarity. You remembered how your parents argued about the best way to get home while the pouring rain beat down overhead, half-drowning out their voices.

You remembered what the flash of a red stoplight looked like through the car window, with streams of water coming down, and a dead leaf stuck to the glass.

You remembered the sound of horns blaring in your ears, the crunch of metal on metal. Your mother’s scream. The feeling of being suspended, and then ricocheted painfully through time and space.

Then the smell of exhaust, and the metallic tang of blood.

“We were heading through a terrible storm,” you said, after letting out a long breath through your nose. “By the end of the night, it was just me and Charlie in the hospital.”

He’d broken his arm, but thanks to him, the only thing you really walked away with were a few cuts and bruises, and the memories of that day. They were like old scars, painful and tender at the touch.

Russell shook his head, his brows knitting together. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “And I’m sorry too. I know you understand what it’s like to lose a parent.”

The movie played on as that new weight settled between you. Russell fell into his own thoughts as he continued to rub your arm in comfort. His own past wasn’t like yours, but he did understand some of your pain.

“How much did Dory tell you about how we grew up?” he asked.

You shifted a bit, so you could see his face too.

“I know your dad took you all to a cabin in some sort of compound in the woods, when you all were still pretty young.”

“He taught us to live off the land. Drilled us, really,” Russell explained, noting your raised brows. “Yeah, he was…well, a paranoid bastard, to be frank. We still don’t know all of why, and what drove him to move us out there.”

“Dory said he was…eccentric,” you said. Russell snorted.

“He was a piece of fucking work,” he said. “Half the time I hated him, if I’m honest.”

That part was hard to admit, even if it was true. Your hand soothed across his chest, more comforting as you listened. Russell’s lips quirked. He liked that about you, that you were willing to listen without judging him, or his family. Maybe that was another reason Dory seemed to love you so much.

“But one night, it was like he snapped,” he said.

For a moment, he was lost in the memory. His father’s anger, and the damn crazy look in his eyes. 

“What happened?” you asked quietly.

Russell glanced at you again. “I don’t think you wanna hear this right now.”

You shook your head. “No, I do.”

He hesitated, but that earnest look in your eyes got him. Still, he surprised himself when he actually told you. He explained it the best he could, the way he saw it in his mind’s eye.

Their mom had been missing, hadn’t come home yet. Then his dad had torn around the house like a man possessed, until he told them it was time to leave for their own safety. Dory had been scared, especially when he grabbed her, yelled at her.

That was the one thing Russell couldn’t tolerate. So he snapped, yanking the older man back and shoving him away. It was one of the first times Russell had ever defied his father.

Ashton Shaw left them then, heading out into the night and the rain. Maybe he’d realized what he was doing to his own kids, his own family.

Colter wanted to follow after him, but Russell stopped him. Being the eldest, he took on the responsibility, even if he’d been reluctant. We’re better off without him…

He was barely sixteen at the time, but Russell knew he’d seen his father arguing with someone—a man he’d seen before, talking with his mother. And then…

“I watched him die that night,” Russell said.

Your hand clenched in his shirt, reminding him that you were still in his arms, still listening. He remembered that scene, looking over the cliff to find his father’s broken body down below. 

“He fell, and I couldn’t stop it,” he said. “And to this day, I still don’t know what all that was about.”

He’d been reluctant to tell even Colter that it still haunted him sometimes; that night, and the not knowing.

You pulled yourself up further so you could meet Russell’s gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” you said.

The movie had long faded into the background, but at least it gave some white noise for the next heavy beat that passed between you two. His eyes eventually fell away from yours.

“It’s old history,” Russell said at last.

“It’s not just history,” you denied softly. “It’s your life.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just hummed in agreement. He encouraged you to relax against him again, with a warm hand on your back. You settled and released another contented sigh. Even though Russell’s story weighed on your heart, you did feel closer to him. It made you feel like you understood Dory better too, and even Colter.

Russell rubbed your arm. “You doin’ okay? You’ve had a long day.”

“Day and night,” you agreed. Your eyes closed against your will. “But, yeah…I think I’m okay now.”

At that, he smiled. He laid a kiss on your forehead.

“Good,” he said.

A few minutes later, Russell heard your soft, deeper breaths in sleep. He chanced grabbing a throw blanket laid over the back of the couch. He managed to toss it over your body, but he made sure it covered you. You shifted in your sleep and curled up more comfortably against him. 

Russell smiled down on you fondly. He’d learned a hell of a lot more about you in just the past couple of days, but ever since he met you, he’d been picking up on the important things. The things that made you the woman you were.

And he wanted more, he realized. He wanted more time with you.

That turned out to be the last real thought he had before his eyes closed on him too. 

Russell didn’t wake again until the credits on the movie were rolling near the end. You were still knocked out. So he carried you, blanket and all, over to your bedroom.

He smelled the remnants of your floral shampoo and body wash in the air, likely coming from the bathroom. It was an intoxicating mix, one that had infiltrated his nose ever since you came out of the shower today. 

It was only 6:00 p.m., but it might as well have been midnight. He laid you down toward the middle of the bed. There was still space on the other side. Very tempting.

She did offer, he thought, remembering what you’d said at the hospital. And yet, he hesitated.

Before he could make a decision, you made it for him. Your hand reached out to hook in his shirt. 

Russell looked down at your sleepy smile. 

“Get over here,” you said, tugging him downward. He chuckled and wrapped his hand around yours. He allowed you to guide him over, and he somehow managed to roll onto the other side of the bed without crushing you. 

“Reflexes like a cat, I tell ya,” he quipped.

You giggled softly. He took off his first layer of defense (his pants), leaving him in his henley and boxer briefs. He settled into bed behind you and slipped an arm around your waist. He fit in snug against your back.

“Mmm,” he sighed. His lips pressed behind your ear, smiling there. “Feels nice.” 

“Mhmm,” you agreed.

He couldn’t see your smile, but you held his arm in place. For the first time in a while, you weren’t alone.

In the early morning, you woke up to warmth and closeness. The man in your bed snored lightly, mouth parted in sleep while he faced you. You smiled.

How could a man who felt dangerous, in more ways than one, also make you feel safe? It was a wonder. Though when an idea hit you, you carefully slid out of bed.

Russell eventually roused in his own time. He blinked awake, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stretched out his limbs in your very comfortable bed. This sure beat rusty motel springs.

He realized that he was alone in the room, but he heard you puttering around the house. He allowed himself to doze some more.

A few minutes later, you returned to greet him with a couple of mugs, drawing him back into the waking world with the rich smell of coffee.

“Aww yeah, that’s the stuff,” he said. He groaned as he slowly sat up.

You laughed and sat beside him on the edge of the bed. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he said. His voice was deeper and rougher with sleep, washing down your spine pleasantly.

He accepted the mug you offered him. He took a sip and hummed in pleasure at its bold flavor. It wasn’t as sweet as he usually liked it, but it was exactly what he needed right now.

“I just did a little sugar and creamer. That okay?” you asked. 

“It’s good,” he nodded. And you looked good, he noticed, with your bed-tousled hair and an open robe over your tank top and little shorts.  

“Do you want to meet Dory and Colter for breakfast?” you asked. “Dory texted me this morning.”

Russell’s brows shot up. 

“Colt stuck around?” he asked.

“Yeah, Dory asked him to stay at her place last night,” you said. Russell hummed in response. 

A bit of an awkward lull fell between you. You’d felt bolder yesterday in the hospital, but now, you weren’t entirely sure what you were doing with a man who just slept somewhat-but-not-altogether platonically in your bed.

“Um, I’ll just…get ready then,” you said, pointing to the bathroom. “You…take your time.”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.”

He peeled back the covers and climbed out of your bed, away from the sheets that smelled like you. 

You watched him go when he headed across the hall back to Charlie’s room. You sighed and beat your hand against your own forehead in frustration. What the hell am I doing?

You’d literally invited him into your bed last night, but he hadn’t done anything more than hold you while you slept. It was incredibly kind, and it said a lot about him, despite his rough-around-the-edges exterior. You were just a little disappointed that he’d been a perfect gentleman about it all. 

You rolled your eyes at yourself. What did that say about you?

You shook your head and resolved to freshen up. There was still a cut that the ER nurse covered with a butterfly bandage above your brow. You cleaned it up and applied a new bandage. Then you put on some makeup to cover the ugly bruise on your cheek and the dark circles that lingered under your eyes.

God, look at me. You actually wouldn’t blame Russell for not being into you enough to make a move. 

A bit disheartened, you changed out of your pajamas to slip on a nice, but comfortable dress over your bra and underwear. Afterward, you paused to stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment. What exactly do you want here?

“Hey, uh—” Russell’s voice startled you, making you flinch. Maybe you were still jumpy.

He raised an apologetic hand. “Sorry. Just thought I’d ask if you want some toast or something. I don’t think my stomach can wait ‘til we meet up with Dory.”

You smiled faintly. “Sure, go ahead. Whatever’s there, you’re welcome to.”

Russell paused, tilting his head. There was something off with you. He saw it, and felt it. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” you said, glancing away. 

Russell’s spidey senses began to tingle. He approached you and laid a hand on the counter, inches from yours. 

“You sure?” he said. He took in your hesitant face, then the pretty dress you had on. The color matched your eyes. Soulful eyes.

He smiled when you let him see them again.

“Can you see the bruises? I think I covered them up well enough,” you said. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror again, touching your jaw carefully. 

Russell’s hand raised to find your cheek, earning your attention with wider eyes. His thumb swept across your skin as you started to blush.

“You’re beautiful,” he said with a smile. “Don’t you worry about that.”

Your face warmed further, despite your smile. 

“Yeah, the makeup helps,” you quipped. 

“I didn’t say anything about makeup,” he replied. Though he grinned and made a show of looking closer at your face. “Although, have your lashes always been that damn long?”

You laughed, but he didn’t let go of you. Instead, his hand drifted down to your neck, cradling your jaw. His thumb brushed over your lower lip this time, smudging your lipstick a little. Your eyes met his, but they’d already lowered, to the path of his hand. You were tempted to nip at his thumb, or better yet, suck it into your mouth.

Perhaps he read the thought crossing your face. Because when those darkened eyes flicked up to yours, he finally bowed his head to kiss you.

You took in a deep breath, and you melted into his mouth with a moan of wanting. A craving from the depths of your heart, finally being fulfilled.

You didn’t let yourself think anymore. You gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. He cupped the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, and you let him in. You met his every kiss with the same fervor, claiming him right back, demanding just as much.

Your hands slid up his chest and helped him shrug off the green jacket first, then his shirt (Led Zeppelin this time). He hooked an arm around your waist and brought you flush against him, so he could turn you around and walk you back to the bed. 

You clung to his bare shoulders and savored the feeling of his warm, calloused hands burning up your thighs and ass, bunching the skirt of your dress. You helped him get it over your head and toss it onto the floor along with his clothes. 

As he held you by the waist, his gaze dipped for a moment to take you in, from bare thighs and hips and lacy panties, all the way up to your breasts cupped in your bra. Through panting breaths, you smiled and blushed at the heated depths of his green eyes. You felt like your heart was beating in and out of rhythm.  

But you managed to get a hold of your nerves long enough to drag your hands down his chest, down to his belt. You unclipped it for him and took your time in sliding the entire belt out of its loops. Then you let the brown leather fall to the floor. 

Russell raised a brow at you, smiling. Taking your challenge for what it was, he unbuttoned his jeans himself and aimed to step out of them, but he had some trouble when one of the pant legs got caught around his ankle and sock-covered foot.

“Shit,” he muttered as he stumbled a little. “Hold on.”

Unable to help a small giggle, you grabbed his left arm to help steady him. He hissed in pain, but he cleared his throat to cover it. You gasped as you realized what you’d done. You noticed then that he had a bandage tightly wrapped above his elbow, right below one of his tattoos.

“What’s this?” you asked in concern. You held his arm with both hands. “Did you get shot? Did you get this looked at when we were at the hospital?”

Russell staved off your questions with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay. This is old, just still healing up,” he said. 

You frowned up at him. “You got stabbed, shot, what? When did this happen? I thought you worked in private security.”

“A couple months ago. I got, uh, grazed. Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Sometimes the job gets a bit dicey.”

He could tell though, that you weren’t going to let it go easily. 

“Let me see,” you said, trying to peek under the bandage. Russell laughed and gathered you into his arms to stop your attempts. Your concern warmed him, but it wasn’t necessary. 

“I’m fine, sweetheart. I promise. Can we focus on the fun part, here?” he said.

Your brows furrowed. You opened your mouth to reply, but Russell saw the testiness in your eyes. He dipped down to kiss you, swallowing whatever snippy remark you were about to make.

You weren’t the only one giving into a craving here. Russell’s was bone-deep, molten in his blood, and getting to see you, to feel your soft body under his hands was already so much better than he’d imagined. His hold tightened on your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin.

A shudder ran up your spine at his touch. You circled your arms around his neck and let him continue ravishing you, then laying you down onto the bed. 

While you were careful about avoiding the bandage, your hand did drift down his arm, and further still, to palm at the straining bulge pressing against you. And Jesus Christ, did it feel generous. He grunted at your touch and paused with his lips against your jaw. 

“Well hey there, cowboy,” you said, adopting a more sensuous tone. “I had a feeling you’d be packing. What’s that, a .45, or a 38 Special?”

Russell’s eyes blinked wide. Then he erupted with deep laughter that made his shoulders shake. Aside from throwing a punch, your brother must’ve taught you something about guns too. 

“Well thank you, kindly,” Russell said, putting on a bit of a southern drawl, just to tease you. “But you’re about to find out, naughty girl.”

You giggled as he began to kiss your neck, languid and sloppy. He blazed a wet trail down the column of your throat and between your breasts. His beard rasping against your skin made you shudder a little, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, you quite liked that a lot.

He slipped a hand underneath you to unclip the black lace. You arched into him so he had easier access. 

He slid the bra from your body and tossed it somewhere behind him. Just as he’d imagined, you had beautiful tits. His lips explored each of them in turn, squeezing supple flesh and rolling your sensitive, hardened nipples with his tongue and fingers. 

It was a prequel, you thought, for what talents that mouth might have further down. You had to moan just at the idea, your fingers clenching in his hair, but also at the sensations he was drawing from your body wherever he touched. The man clearly knew what he was doing.

He traveled lower still and laid slow, occasionally nipping kisses across your stomach, hips and thighs. His fingers hooked around your panties and lowered them down your legs. You felt his warm breath panting against your thigh. You glanced down at him and tensed in anticipation. 

“Still good?” he checked, squeezing your hip. You smiled and reached for his hand. Russell gave it to you, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand in affection. 

“I think I’m about to be,” you said cheekily.

He smirked. His other hand smoothed up the inside of your thigh and slipped past your folds, finding wetness that already coated his digits.

“Goddamn. You’re soaked,” he said, just a hint teasing. “Bet if I put my mouth on you, you’d fuckin’ drown me.”

Again, he stopped whatever smart quip you were about to levy at him next when his fingers found your clit. You let out a gasping moan instead.

He decided that he already loved that sound. He endeavored to pull it from you, again and again when he began working you open with his fingers and pumping them inside you. He enjoyed seeing you writhe and arch against his hand. Your hands squeezed his arms, his shoulders, trying to anchor yourself.  

His thumb circled and strummed your clit in a rhythm only he could hear in his head, until you couldn’t help biting your nails into his shoulders when you came. You shuddered your release as your core throbbed with warmth and slick around his fingers. 

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he said. His voice rasped deep with arousal. “Wouldn’t even mind if you did drown me.” 

You huffed in response, unable to form speech just now.

Next time, Russell thought. He slipped his fingers out of you and licked them clean, making your eyes widen. He smirked and stroked your thigh as you came down, a shuddering mess.

After taking a second to regain your breath, you pulled him down for a kiss, both grateful and fueled by a passion you couldn’t put into words. What you felt for this man was instinctual, from the moment you saw him. And yet, it was also so much more. It was raw, and real, and maybe even beautiful.

The thought spurred you on as your hands moved with purpose down his body. Your nails caught at the waistband of his boxer briefs as you tried to roll them down. You got it halfway down his thighs, enough to let his hardened length spring free. You bit your lip at the mere sight of him. Goddamn.

Your hand slid around his cock, near its weeping head. You used the beads of wetness there to work your way smoothly down to its base. Russell’s body tensed above you, just before he groaned low in pleasure.    

You pushed at his chest to have him let you up. 

“Your turn, baby,” you said. It would be one hell of a challenge to get your mouth down that beautiful 44 Magnum, but you were more than willing to try.

To your surprise, Russell shook his head and guided you back down.

“Let’s pin that one for next time too. Wanna be inside you already,” he said.

You blinked, but then you nodded in breathless agreement. He kissed you deeply, devouring you with his teeth grazing your bottom lip. His tongue soon slipped out to soothe it.   

“Condom?” he panted, between kisses. 

“Oh, yeah. Um…bathroom, bottom drawer,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure why you were whispering. 

“Okay, two seconds,” he said.

He left you in the bed, quite literally hot and bothered, and very naked. You crossed your arms over your breasts on reflex while you tried to recover. Your core was still tingling, and your heart was beating fast, though you couldn’t stamp out the smile forming on your face. 

You heard the sound of foil unwrapping and clothed rustling. When he came back to the bedroom, you finally got a full picture of what you were in for. You unconsciously licked your lips as your gaze dipped down his body, and the indeed impressive package at full mast, and full display. 

A grin curved his lips when he caught you staring. He climbed back onto the bed with just a bit of struggle with all the blankets coiled about. He pushed a heavy blanket out of his way, accidentally shoving it to the floor.

“Back to business,” he said.

“Oh, yeah,” you agreed, and you welcomed him back, sliding your hands up his arms and shoulders. You hooked your thigh around his hip as he found his way back between your legs. Holding his bearded face in your hands, you pulled him in for another kiss that reignited you both. 

He sunk his hand into your hair and treated you to another slow, deep kiss. Until your thigh tightening around his hip urged him to satisfy what you both had been wanting and waiting for.

He grabbed your thighs and angled you higher. Then he lined himself up at your entrance. Looking into your eyes, your breaths mingling together, he sheathed himself a little at a time. A keening moan fell from your lips.

He started with shallow thrusts, giving you time to adjust. But that in itself was a torturous tease. It made the coil in your lower belly start to tighten again. Pleasure began to thrum inside you, ever slowly. Your head tipped back into the pillows with a gasp.  

“God, Russell, please,” you uttered. You squeezed his arms on reflex, your heels digging into his ass. 

“I know, baby. Gonna fucking wreck you, I promise,” he said with a grin. 

You huffed in amusement. That was a hefty promise.

Though a moan tore from your throat when he finally bottomed out, stretching your inner walls. He groaned along with you. His lips fastened to your neck as he gave you deeper thrusts.

“You feel so good,” you said raggedly in his ear, raking your fingers through his hair. You felt every damn inch of him.

“You too, baby. So damn good,” he gritted out. “Tell me what you want.”

He raised your thigh a bit higher, his fingers pressing into flesh.

“Ugh, fuck,” you gasped, as he hit a particularly delicious angle. “Whatever you want to give me.”

“You sure about that?” Russell asked, panting against your neck. Your nails dragged down his back between the muscles in his shoulders, hard enough to earn a halting groan from him.

You nodded emphatically. “Yes!”

His lips hinted at a smile. “Okay, hold on."

Before you could even respond, he pulled out of you all the way, just so he could guide you over onto your stomach. He pulled you up onto your hands and knees. As he ran a hand down the gentle slope of your back and around the curve of your ass, you breathed harder in anticipation.

“So damn beautiful,” he muttered.

You glanced at him over your shoulder. You unconsciously bit your lip as your heart couldn’t help but swell at his words. Russell met you with a look that betrayed his desire, making your lower belly tremble as well.

He parted your cheeks and slotted himself between your thighs from behind. You once again felt the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, and then pushing back in with one deep plunge. Both of you let out moans of relief at the feeling.  

Pretty soon, he was pounding into you deeper and faster than before. Oh, fuck yes…

You clawed at the headboard, trying to find something to keep you stable. Russell’s arm slid around you for a solid support. You held onto him right back with one hand while he continued to drive into you, earning each and every sound coming out of your mouth. He’d finally angled you just right, so he could hit that special spot inside you with every thrust. Your pussy clenched on him in response, making him grunt in pleasure. 

“Fuck, you’re close. I can fuckin’ feel it,” he said, panting. He laid a biting kiss where your neck met your shoulder. You cried out in both pain and pleasure, your inner walls once again squeezing on him. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, breathless. “This time, you’re gonna come with me.”

You reached back and tangled your fingers into his hair. He held you to his chest and squeezed your breast a bit roughly. You uttered a wanton sound. You dragged his hand down your body to part your folds. You used his fingers to press against your clit. 

He picked up your hint, and then took control, massaging you with his fingers. There you began to tremble from the inside out. Warmth emanated from your core and spread outward, down to your toes as you came even harder on his cock. 

Russell wasn’t far behind. His voice joined yours as his body locked up, and he spilled hot into the condom. You almost wished he’d come freely inside you, so you could really feel him. Regardless, your body was boneless when he lowered you down onto the bed afterward.

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

He chuckled and kissed your shoulder, before he fully pulled out. Panting for breath though you both were, you managed to twist onto your side and reach a hand for his cheek. Your fingers slipped higher from there, cupping the back of his neck. Your thumb swept tenderly across his cheek, and you guided him down for a proper kiss.

Russell obliged you, his lips meeting yours plush and wet. He brushed strands of your sweaty hair away from your forehead with affection.

Somehow, that last kiss was softer than all the rest.

One thing was for sure though. There was no way you two were making it to breakfast. 

“I kind of feel bad now,” you later confessed. 

You and Russell were taking a few minutes just to recover under the messy sheets. He held you while sitting up against your headboard. He almost craved a smoke. You’d given him a damn workout. 

He smirked at the thought. Admittedly, his mind was more on focused on the scenes replaying in his head than on what you were saying. 

“Dory doesn’t get to see you guys that often,” you continued, “and who knows how long Colter will seriously wait for us to get out of bed.”

Russell’s attention drifted back to you at that.

“Come on, it’s not like they know why we’re running late,” he said. You gave him a knowing look. 

“Are you kidding? They were already suspicious when you brought me home yesterday,” you replied with a laugh. 

Russell grinned and rubbed your arm. He knew you were probably right, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Yeah, well. That was damn worth it,” he said.

You smiled. You rolled your head over on his shoulder, so you could see his face, but you became contemplative as uncertainty crept in. You let in a breath to gather your courage, and you decided to take a chance. 

“You know, drug dealers aside, Laramie isn’t such a bad place to live,” you pointed out. “We’ve got a movie theater, a couple good outlet malls, a new Tex-Mex restaurant that just opened down the street. I’m gonna have to find a new bar though.”

Russell smiled at you. He knew what you were suggesting.

He sighed as his amusement faded. 

“Look, even if I stay…” he hesitated.

He looked into your eyes and saw the vulnerability there. You were being honest with him, putting your heart into his hands. The least he could do was be honest. He covered your hand where it rested on his chest.

“If I’m on a job, I could be gone weeks at a time. I won’t be able to tell you where I am or what I’m doing. That’s gonna be hard on you,” he said. 

He knew his friend Doug made it work with his wife, but their relationship wasn’t without friction because of the job he and Russell shared.

“I can handle it,” you said firmly. 

“You just had a little freak out over a scratch earlier,” Russell pointed out, with a gesturing hand at his bandaged arm. 

“Okay, that’s different,” you said.

You wouldn’t say it now, but there were things that still concerned you about his job. You had a strong feeling that "private security" wasn’t all it entailed. However, after what he’d done for you, after what he’d done for Charlie, you knew that Russell Shaw was a good man.

There was something good here, and you didn’t want to lose it this time. You shifted in his arms, so you could face him.

“Look, we can sit down and figure all that out,” you said. “But do you want to at least try? Or…am I reading this wrong?”

Russell stared back at you ruefully. He raised a hand to touch your cheek, grazing your soft skin with his fingers. 

“No, you’re not,” he said. 

In fact, what he felt already ran deeper with you than he’d like to admit. He let out a long breath through his nose. 

“Okay,” he said at last. “If we’re gonna do this, let’s do it right, I guess. I’ll book a motel here in town for now. If things go well, I can…I don’t know, find an apartment.”

Your answering smile broke him down further, even as it warmed him inside. You turned over to circle your arms around his neck, and as an added bonus, pressing your bare breasts against his chest. You kissed his cheek with a happy hum. He laughed at your enthusiasm. He also accepted your sweet path of kisses that led to his lips. 

He groaned when it became not so sweet, with your tongue slipping hotly against his. His hold on your hips tightened.

“Uh oh. Baby, we can’t do this now,” he chuckled, even though your hand was already wandering down his body and under the sheets. You both were supposed to be getting ready to meet his brother and sister for lunch. 

“Five minutes,” you said against his lips. All the while, you were pushing him back onto the bed. You began to kiss down his chest, and lower still.   

Russell snorted. Right. 

But he wasn’t about to argue with you. He had a gut feeling…one that made him almost certain.

He’d found where he wanted to be. 

AN: Well, then! I hope you enjoyed the "happy ending." 😘 I always get a bit sad at the end of a series, but thank you to everyone who's followed the ride on Every Second Counts. Let me know what you thought of how it all shook out here at the end between her and Russell! 💜

Read the Sequel:

Want more ESC? Read the next one-shot, Lost Time (18+):

Summary: When Russell takes longer than usual on a job out of town, you realize how hard it is to live half a life with him.

▶️ Keep Reading: Lost Time

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[kitkat13001]

I hope I'm in time for a request before you close your lovely event!! May I request Gojo? With prompt 10, snow angels? I just feel that would so be his thing lol

ꨄ︎ 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚜 | 𝚜. 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘

it’s maybe four in the morning when gojo breaks into your room and drags you out of bed. 

“come onnn,” he whines, ignoring your loud protests and the way you’re clawing at him. “it snowed outsideee!!”

“i don’t care about the snow, i want to sleep! the snow will still be there tomorrow, won’t it?!” you hiss at him as he manhandles you into a big coat and hat. 

“yes, but it won’t be fresh.” gojo ignores you as you curse him out, wrapping his scarf around your face to shut you up. 

you huff, finally giving up and letting him drag you out of bed. you complain the whole way as he leads you out by the hand into the school courtyard, which is covered with fresh, powdery snow. 

“it’s freezing,” you grumble, punching satoru lightly on the shoulder. he laughs, nudging you back with his elbow, but his freakish strength sends you toppling on your side into the snow with a yelp. 

you lay there, glowering up at gojo and unable to get up. 

“getting a head start on snow-angels? great idea, babe.”

you fight the urge to laugh when he throws himself down on the ground next to you, his long limbs sprawling out as he starts to make snow angels. 

despite the cold, your frosty attitude melts at his absolute giddiness. your breath makes white puffs in the night air as you both laugh, lying in your angel-shaped impressions in the snow. 

“merry christmas, satoru,” you say, reaching out to hold his mitten-clad hand. 

“merry christmas.”

hi anon!! i hope u like, i think this was one of my favs to write for this event 🩷🩷🩷 leave it to kitty to write a req en route to a christmas eve party. anyways, stay warm and happy holidays!! - 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢 !

[dearly-somber]

LET ME IN (20 Cube) | p.sh

-> pairing. frat boy!sunghoon x fem reader

-> genre. fwb (friends-with-benefits)

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 1052

-> warnings. Suggestive ending (and overall dialogue), Sunghoon is kind of insufferable lol

-> a/n. First ENHYPEN fic go !!! (This is old, it gets better </3)

-> collection. songfic

-> started. ???

-> fin. Jan. 12th, 2021 @ 21:49

-> edited. Thurs., Oct. 25th, 2022 @ 22:06

You walked into the on-campus café, wearing a collared long sleeveed shirt with stripes on the arms, the torso up until your upper arm being fully black with the words "sad, lonely & bad at math" printed on the front. You were also wearing some chains and a necklace with a cross that fell just above the print on the shirt. You were wearing a high waisted, ripped jean-short with a belt that had a chain attached, your shirt tucked in, with a pair of black combat boots and a messy bun holding your hair out of your eyes.

You were known for your rather grunge/ goth-like outfits, and a lot of people admired you for being able to pull it off quite well.

You went over to the cashier, who you had formed a homie-bond with after seeing him so many times. "Hey, Y/N. Usual?"

"That's right!" You said with an enthusiastic smile, tapping your fingers against the counter while waiting for your drink. You checked the time on your phone and sighed as you turned to look at the entrance. He's going to make me wait again, huh?

You rolled your eyes distastefully before turning back to the cashier with a smile as he handed you your drink. "Thanks, Niki!"

"No problem!" You waved at him before sitting down, deciding to check the notes you had made on your phone while waiting for one of the most popular guys on campus who you just so happened to have an... Interesting relationship with.

"Y/N! You're here!" A familiar voice rang through your ears and you turned to glare at him, annoyed.

"Sunghoon. What have I said about making me wait? Especially after messaging me to meet up."

The boy in question merely smirked, always having enjoyed pressing your buttons. He looked good, as always, with his nicely styled brown hair and black and beige silk shirt, wearing his necklace with the black jewel embedded in the middle, the cold metal resting just underneath his neck. Sunghoon walked over, sitting across from you and checking you out as you sipped lazily at your drink.

"You look good in this outfit." He said approvingly, nodding at you as he drew his eyes away from your outfit to meet your eyes. You rolled your eyes dramatically, leaning against the palm of your hand.

"What do you want?"

"What? No 'Yeah, Sunghoon! You look good too!'?" He asked, pouting and fluttering his eyelids as a stupid tactic to make you feel bad.

"You always look good, you self-absorbed piece of shit. There's no point." Sunghoon smirked, leaning forward and raising his eyebrows.

"Did you just say I look good?"

"You missed the 'self-absorbed' and 'piece of shit' part, but yeah. Now please tell me what the hell do you want? I don't want to be seen talking to you for so long."

"Aww, why not?"

"Park Sunghoon." You said warningly, glaring daggers into the depths of his soul. He laughed mutedly, flashing you a toothy grin before straightening up slightly and leaning his head back to show off his neck.

"I wanted to invite you to a party I'm throwing at my place to welcome our newest member."

"You guys accepted another member?"

"Yep. His name's Ni-ki. He's here right now, actually." With a shocked expression you turned around and looked back at Ni-ki, smiling at him half-heartedly. This innocent soul would have to live with some of the biggest dicks you'd ever met. Of course, Sunghoon was one of them, the other most well known one was Lee Heeseung, the oldest frat member at this point.

"He's a good kid. You better let him stay that way." You said seriously, pointing an accusatory finger at Sunghoon. He pouted, leaning against both of his hands with a glint in his eye.

"You've seen him around a few times and you're already protective, yet I'm the one you've scre—"

"Shut up, Sunghoon." You hissed, your hand having shot out to cover his mouth. He smirked into your hand, kissing your palm and making you pull away a bit flushed.

"Are you coming or not?" He asked with that stupid grin of his, already knowing your answer.

"Yeah, I'll be there. But only for Ni-ki. Plus, I haven't seen Jungwon or Jake in a while." Sunghoon scrunched his nose in what you assumed was distaste before standing up before you slid out of your chair. You cleared your throat, squinting at him slightly. "What happened last time won't happen again." You said sternly, however Sunghoon was completely unfazed, leaning over and winking over his shoulder.

"We'll see about that, love!" You groaned at the nickname, briefly talking to Ni-ki and heading out to plan your outfit.

It was the day of the party and you arrived somewhere in the middle of the celebration, wearing jeans and a loose fitting AC/DC t-shirt.

It seemed like there was still a lot of people left, but it was open enough to easily find Ni-ki and some of his friends by the pool table. You went over to congratulate Ni-ki first, saying hello to Jake and Jungwon, who you actually knew the most outside of the Sunghoon situation.

"Come chat with me..." Think of the devil and he shall appear, you thought as Sunghoon whispered into your ear, his breath fanning your neck and sending a chill down your spine. He pulled you into a corner of the living room, leaning against the wall and holding you where you were by your waist. He smirked at you, raising a brow suggestively.

"You're really persistent, you know that?" You told him as you instantly regretted what you were about to do.

"Well, persistence often pays off..." He grinned as you rolled your eyes before pulling him closer by his nape, kissing him roughly. He groaned into the kiss as you moved closer and tugged at his hair, eventually making him lift you up by your legs and taking you upstairs.

When you woke up the next morning you found yourself wearing a shirt that wasn't yours and was 2 or 3 sizes to big, turning around to look at a smiling Sunghoon.

"What was it that you told me yesterday?"

"Oh, fuck off—" You muttered as you kissed him again.

[dark-elf-writes]

Honestly I am just insanely cusius about the fall out of Bakugou in two heroes and I need to know what happens next please. A drabble of that would be beautiful. I just finished my rereading it lol

Masaru Bakugou wasn’t stupid.

He knew that he had dropped the ball raising his son. Knew that his choice to be the voice of reason between the two hotheads that were Katsuki and his wife had not been enough to mitigate the damage that had already been done both in their home and outside it. Knew that, when it came down to it, he had failed not only Katsuki but Izuku as well.

(He remembered innocent green eyes looking up at him through a sheen of tears. “Why are they so mean, Uncle Saru?”

He hadn’t had an answer then, before it was his son causing that pain. He didn’t have one now either.)

The chime of the doorbell almost went unnoticed in the cacophony of the house. Katsuki and Mitsuki had been screaming at each other since they had left the police station. Masaru was certain the only reason that their car, any furniture too large to throw, and most of the house was intact at all was the quirk suppressing cuff clamped around Katsuki’s ankle. The same cuff that would remain there until Katsuki’s trial.

Pushing that thought away, Masaru walked through the swath of destruction his family left in their wake and opened the front door.

He wasn’t particularly surprised to see the mismatched trio of pro heroes on the other side of the door, but he still felt his stomach sink when he saw the rage in their eyes.

(Rage he understood. Rage he could feel in the pit of his own gut. Rage for a child that had almost died only hours ago at the hands of his son.)

“Bakugou-san. We would like to speak to you and your family about what is to be expected moving forward.” The principal of UA said with deceptive calm. Masaru didn’t fall for it. Not when the rage in the mammal’s eyes burned brighter than the explosions that had nearly cost him a student on live television.

Something shattered deeper in the house. Masaru’s eye twitched.

“Please, come in. Don’t bother removing your shoes.” Knowing Katsuki and Mitsuki, there could be broken glass anywhere at this point. "I would offer tea, but I'm sure you are all very busy." And he wasn't certain that any of their drink ware had survived the war going on behind him.

They didn't give any of the polite deferring that was expected of guests. Masaru couldn't blame them. He was clinging to years if ingrained manners with little more than his fingernails, and with each shout and crash from behind him his grip wavered. If anything the woman, Midnight, if Masaru remembered correctly from the packets that had been sent out when Katsuki had been accepted to UA, seemed to be trembling with barely contained rage.

She had been there, he suddenly remembered. She had been the closest to the field. It was her hands that had caught Izuku when both children had been knocked unconscious, leaving Katsuki to hit the dirt on his own.

(He was a terrible father, he knew. What else could it mean when he was grateful she hadn't caught his son.)

"We should speak to all three of you at once," Nezu's voice was soft compared to the carnage in the house, but it rattled Masaru all the more. He would have preferred him to scream. To roar at him like his own thoughts did for being so blind.

Masaru nodded, leading the three of them to the living room swerving around broken glass and shattered pieces of the life that had once filled their home.

Katsuki and Mitsuki were facing off around the couch. Both of them red faced as they screamed curses at each other. Masaru had grown so used to the noise he hadn't even noticed when he had led the heroes in. Neither of them so much as looked in their direction, so lost in their fury.

Something sparked in his chest. White hot and with all the force of one of Katsuki's explosions.

"Enough!" He roared it at them, cutting through their shouts with a single word.

(He had never raised his voice to either of them. Never in all the time Katsuki had been alive. Never since he met Mitsuki in high school. Both of them looked at him with slack expressions, struck dumb in their shock.)

"Enough," He repeated at a normal volume but the iron in his voice made them both blink. "Both of you, just, enough."

It struck him then that he couldn't offer Katsuki's teachers a place to sit. Even with the couch still mostly in tact, the glass from every picture once the walls and the small fiddly blown glass figures Masaru had so adored was scattered over every inch of their living room. Like a bomb had gone off in their home.

(Like they had raised the bomb that would destroy them.)

None of the heroes seemed like they were much inclined to sit anyway. Midnight dropped back to lean against the farthest wall from Katsuki while Aizawa, with Nezu on his shoulder, stood in the center of the room where the mammal could keep his dark eyes on all three of them at once.

"We have come to inform you that Bakugou Katsuki has been formally expelled from UA as the result of an assault on one of his fellow students," Nezu kept his voice soft, so terribly soft.

Katsuki, however, did not. "The fuck do you mean expelled you fucking rat! Deku fucking—!"

"Katsuki!" Masaru's voice cut through the argument as well as any explosion. "I said enough. You will listen to your… to the heroes, and you will do so silently." It was probably the shock that made Katsuki listen more than any respect for Masaru as his father. Masaru didn't much care as long as he was quiet.

From all Nezu reacted, it was like neither of them had spoken at all. "He will be expelled with a black mark on his record and a personal note from myself attached listing my… concerns should he be accepted into another heroics program. We take the safety of our students seriously at UA, and we know that all of our fellow schools across the world feel much the same."

It was as good as the death of the dream Katsuki had held since he was a toddler. A black mark from UA. A personal condemnation from Nezu. There was not a single hero school in all of Japan that would stand against that. Not a single one in the world if Masaru were to make a guess.

Not that he would have tried to look.

Masaru bowed, a perfect ninety degrees, and kept his voice on the shattered glass under his feet when he spoke, "Thank you for taking the time to inform us. With consideration to what happened, I had already decided to pull Katsuki out of UA, and was already looking for an online program unrelated to heroics that would take him in spite of his… rather televised faults." If he wasn't convicted of attempted murder, Masaru couldn't help but think as he caught sight of the quirk suppressing cuff around his son's ankle from his position.

"What?" It spoke to just how stunned Katsuki was that the word had come out as a strangled whisper rather than a roar.

Masaru straightened, not daring to look at his son when he spoke. Instead his eyes caught on a patch of wall brighter than the rest where a picture had once resided.

(Izuku's smiling face had once looked back from that picture, where they were clinging to their mother's arm. Katsuki and Mitsuki had both also been smiling for once. A rare moment of peace caught on camera now crumpled and shattered on their floor.

He wondered what it said about all of them. Surely nothing good.)

"I have been too lenient toward the problems in your behavior for too long, which resulted in another child being hurt. I refuse to make that mistake again. It is my greatest shame that it took me this long to see."

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Midnight's head dip in a nod. Confirmation and damnation in the movement. Her hands might have been the ones stained with Izuku's blood, but the ghost of that blood rested on Masaru's soul. He should have known, should have seen the warning signs, but he had not. Now he had to live with that failure for the rest of his life.

(It would be so easy not to. To run as far as he could. To leave nothing but signed divorce papers and a broken home full of rage and guilt behind him.

But Masaru had taken the easy route too much already, and he, frankly, didn't trust Mitsuki to keep Katsuki under control.)

He nodded back at Midnight, a message received and understood. "I apologize for the harm that Katsuki has done."

It wasn't enough, and he knew it.

It would never be enough.

Masaru had to say it all the same.

None of the heroes accepted the apology. None of them would lessen his guilt. None of them so much as bowed before showing themselves out of his home. Masaru was grateful for it, was grateful for the stunned silence that they left in their wake even more so.

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

I can't donate right now but I just have to say how much it warms my heart to see what the Lou/Bucktommy/9-1-1 fandom is doing right now. I didn't know till like ten minutes ago but this is so freaking cool

I've seen some other people sharing how it's important to them so I figured I'd throw a bit in myself.

This year has been pretty good for me. There's always rough stuff, but it is what it is. Then, due to some outside circumstances, I ended up way more isolated and lonely than usual. The other place I saw friends became more and more stressful, and I had no place to relax. Except at home, in the evenings, especially when I was watching my shows.

I attached to Bucktommy, hard. I don't truly know why, maybe it was Buck being bisexual and me seeing myself in him, or how sweet they are, or their story, or their acting, or even the hate they received. I don't know. I fell in love with them, and it devastated me when they broke up. I kept watching, I still enjoy 9-1-1. But after everything I'd been going through, including having walking pneumonia at the time, it was rough. I was shocked and angry and sad and already missing them and I was tired. But this community. This freaking community xd.

I go into the tag in the next few days? It's hoping for a helicopter crash, it's jokes, it's a lot of pregnancy lol. It was a bunch of people all going through sucky stuff, and going through sucky stuff with fictional characters too, but still just hanging out and making it worth it. I don't usually make a lot of close one-on-one friends with people in specific fandoms. But even though I don't personally talk to people a lot, I am so happy to be around you guys. I've admired from afar (and been happy with that), chatted about things, related to jumping over to S.W.A.T., been welcomed, participated in a gift exchange (which I haven't done in literal years, since my first fandom on Tumblr)! These characters, this storyline, this relationship, have built a wonderful community that I am so grateful to be a part of. And never have I been prouder than now. You guys are such wonderful people and you're doing such a wonderful thing with these donations.

Everyone who can, I recommend donating to The Trevor Project. I can't personally, but I love seeing what everyone's doing.

Also, I'd like to thank Lou for everything he did with Tommy. I'm so glad Tommy stole my heart, because now I watch S.W.A.T. for Lou and I've seen how much he cares about us and us caring about Tommy. I'm glad we all made sure he knew how much we love Tommy and him :).

Thanks for being amazing guys. Merry Christmas <3.

[worldly-fluster]

WARNING: ANGST

So. As I've said in Zayne's, I'm gonna make this one (or try anyway) very very much angst.

--Rafayel-- Part 4 of 4

Last but not least, Fishy.

This is gonna be a little different from the other three, there might be death, but in the end there will be some comfort. I can't have angst without a little comfort in the end or I feel big sad lol.

Rafayel-

•He could get used to this.

•Your smiles and laughs that seem to be for only him.

•You can match his jokes with your sharp tongue and funny humor. He adores when you give him that confident look paired with your hand on the hip and flick of the wrist.

•This is what he knew you could be.

•Not like how he found you.

•Never again. No more silence, stares into the void with no sparkly shine in your eyes. Blank and waiting for something.

•Oh if he got his hands on whomever did that to you before he met you...

•He loves that he can finally help you be yourself now, and always.

•Honestly he just wants to stay with you, but then you would have missions. Constantly.

•This time was supposed to be a normal mission. Like all the others.

•You told him a day, two at least. And you'll be back. You even gave him a bag of yours so you would have a reason to come back to him, instead of straight home.

•He waited for those two days. Before he got a message from Thomas.

•Thomas told him to look at the news, and what he saw made his skin wash in a cold sweat and his breathe leave him.

•It was the place of your mission, they were talking about the casualties and how many are yet to be recovered.

•They showed videos of the carnage. He felt sick.

•He called, texted, and yet no answer. It felt like a cruel prank, like a punch to the gut by the tail of a whale.

•Where were you, were you okay?...Maybe your bag that you left had something to help? He doesn't know why he thought that but he needed to do something other than panic.

•He refuses to believe you could be gone. Not again.

•He opened it and didn't find much, your favorite plushie, a large hoodie, a notebook, a plastic bottle full of sea shells and sand-wait the notebook? Maybe it has something right?

•He opened it to a random page and...wait...why...No. No.NoNoNo that can't be it.

•Why would you give him this? This is talking about how to help him feel better after you d- No, there has to be something else. Something he's not getting.

•You can't be, no way, not yet. You're supposed to grow old next to him. You can't leave him alone again.

•No way would you know-...wait, this is the bag you gave him every time you went on a mission like this...

•But there were times when you would just give him the bag for no reason- there has to be more to it right?

•He reads just a little more.

•What...he can't...he can't breathe, it feels like the weight of the ocean is on him again...

•He throws the book across the room and picks up his phone again and before he can call you again, his phone rings.

•Its you.

•He hardly lets the phone ring twice, only because of his initial shock, when he answers.

•"Where the hell are you?! You-! You need to-! I can't-! Why..."

•He can barely get anymore words out before he chokes on the words, his pearly tears streaming down his paler than normal face.

•"I-I need you...to come here. Now. Please."

•He hears your soothing sweet voice telling him you'll be there in a few minutes, you were already on your way when you called back.

•It feels like years to him before he hears you walking up to his door.

•He has it open before you can make it to the threshold. He's a mess, his hair all over the place, his clothes wrinkled and front slightly wet, his face a little puffy and red from tears.

•His shaky yet strong arms are around you in seconds.

•"You're not leaving me again. Not for work, missions, or just out with friends. I can't- won't let you out of my sight until the ocean dries up. And even then I can't stand it, you're not going anywhere..."

•You can see behind him over his shaking shoulder, the bag you left is on the floor opened. The notebook can be seen practically torn in half on the far side of the room.

•You have tears in your eyes as you realize he read it's content, there isn't any going back from that.

•You hug him back as you say, "I wouldn't have it any other way, honestly."

•He hugs you close to him for what seems like hours, breathing in your sent, feeling your warmth. Knowing that sooner or later he will have to let you go...but that can be later. Not now, he wishes never.

***😁 @an-ever-angry-bi ***

[iampastelry]

Gosh I have so much to say about mouthwashing (good things btw)

Spoilers ahead obv

Also I'm gonna talk about Evangelion at the start of this (I swear it's for an important reason lol)

CW: mentions of SA. Also Jimmy. Also Shinji Ikari.

So first off

Heavy Evangelion vibes from this storyline.

Specifically Shinji in the finale + End of Eva.

Shinji was the only person who could save everyone, and he had the full ability to do so. The reason he didn't, was because he himself didn't want to live, so he just ended up taking everyone else down with him. Shinji only had the epiphany to keep living and live his life right, when it was too late. And yet, in the finale (which we can assume is mostly in his head at the end) everyone congratulates him. He hasn't saved anyone, he's just patting himself on the back for finally deciding to do the right thing.

Oh and also, he basically SA'd Asuka very soon before all this happened.

This is all relevant to Mouthwashing because this kind of storyline is exactly what we see happen with Jimmy. He already did a shitty, irreversible thing by assaulting Anya (resulting in her pregnancy), and due to his arrogance, he takes everyone else on the ship down with him. It's only after months of watching everyone suffer, being put through mental torment from his own actions, that he finally decides to 'take accountability'. He even throws a literal party for himself- imagining the corpses of his crewmates congratulating him on being such a good captain. But it doesn't matter at this point, because everyone's already dead because of him, and Curly will never have a normal life even if he is found.

Another note, I think the real action that this whole game is about is actually his assault on Anya. The ship crashing is just a big event that creates the meat of the game (pun not intended), but even from the beginning, Jimmy knew his life was over, after he found out Anya was pregnant- creating solid proof of what he did. That was the real irreparable mistake, the mistake that hurt Anya forever. The one he needed to take accountability for.

And he didn't. Instead, he crashed the ship. Jimmy never took accountability for what he did to Anya. To the end, his efforts were never focused on her. Mouthwashing ends with Jimmy, to the very end, refusing to take accountability for his actions.

[paladinsbrainrot]

omg thank you so much !!! i was so confused about the lucas outfit because it seemed to be a different texture / pattern than the WSQK sweater but the pants and the black and white filter are throwing me off 🥲 it looks a lot lighter in colour to the WSQK sweater so it's probably a different shirt -- or a vest, like you said. will probably update when i figure that whole situation out and if we get a better look at his outfit. also one of the photographers posted this which makes me inclined to believe he's wearing a different shirt but i didn't include it on account that the photographer blocked out their faces so it's not TECHNICALLY reliable bts. but i'm pretty sure this outfit here is the same one lucas in wearing in that picture at the radio station.

also if im not mistaken a couple photographers and update accounts on twitter were saying that the outfit millie is wearing (the black tank and sweats) is not an actual costume but just millie's casual clothes as she wasn't filming at the time these photos were taken. i'm pretty sure the brand is lululemon which defo did not exist in the 80s lol. also i think she's wearing crocs in the picture as well. i think it was debunked that it's just millie's clothes, but I am so desperately waiting for another el outfit that i'll take anything atp 😔

every character's outfits in stranger things 5 | the party

warning: possible st5 spoilers ahead!

this is a simple post I've put together to keep track of what each character wears throughout the show so no one has to rummage through various social media posts to find them. (that, and, the artist in me needed a place to get references of their outfits) most of them are put in the order that they've been revealed to us in!

because of tumblr's image limit, I've had to divide this into three different posts. this one features the party!

if i missed anything, or mixed up any of the outfits, feel free to let me know! i'm trying to make this navigational hub as accurate as possible

the teens | the adults & other characters

(will be updated as new pics surface!!)

will byers outfit #1

with jacket

outfit #2

with jacket

outfit #3

mike wheeler outfit #1

with jacket

outfit #2

outfit #3 from the epilogue

el hopper outfit #1

with jacket

outfit #2

dustin henderson outfit #1

with jacket

outfit #2

outfit #3 from the epilogue

lucas sinclair outfit #1

with jacket

outfit #2

max mayfield (unfortunately, we don't have a picture of her in costume, but we do have a pretty good estimate of her hair length!)

[son-of-starlight]

"It could be a long trip. Gee, halfway across the country from the maps I've looked at. Lots of running to do to get there." Rusty put his hands together, his amber eyes glittering a little, "I could use another set of hands, if you'd like to join me? I love the coaches, don't get me wrong, but the company of another engine would be...appreciated."

[silusvesuius]

steer clear of ....the illigitimate child of... nvm

[tj-crochets]

So it turns out there's a big craft guild organization thing only a few hours from where I live (I saw an ad for their craft fair), and I got like half my holiday shopping done on their website, and the box arrived today! The thing I was most excited to see in person is fragile, though, and it's really well wrapped in bubble wrap and I don't want it to break when I mail it to the friend it's for, so I am not unwrapping it, but oh man the temptation is there lol I also got myself a little metal bug made of a bottle cap and some wire. It lives on my little corkboard where I put postcards and thank you cards now

[prettycottonmouthlamia]

>Good post! Really well-put together analysis of the branch.

Thank you! Like genuinely, it's actually a good feeling.

>But i find it difficult to even look at Wiš'adel as a Flinger. She just ignores the identity of the branch so much by dealing incredibly high damage to high defense enemies all by herself, hitting flying enemies (I didn't know Rosmontis could bypass that limitation with a future Branch, but even then she needs another operator helping her to do it) and I agree that flyers aren't an issue, especially not when you're not in IS and have access to your entire roster, but it is still part of the branch's identity. Even her attack animations don't sell her as a Flinger to me. Going by the module short, the original name of the branch is probably something like "Bombardment Sniper", but both Greyylter and TRC throw something in the traditional way and Rosmontis throws something non-traditionally with her big invisible hands. If I didn't know what Wiš'adel was and you showed me a clip of her without revealing her attack range, I'd think she was still an Artilleryman Sniper. Because of this, I don't consider her a win for Flingers. They made her a Flinger to let her abuse the upsides they have while letting her ignore the drawbacks that come with the branch. Which yes, could be described as her being a look at what the branch could be, as you said, but blowing past the limitations just isn't it for me.

So there's a few things I want to bring up here because I think they're important. I do consider Wis'adel to be a Flinger at heart. Her kit would be noticeably worse if she wasn't one. It wouldn't just be in terms of raw damage either, it would also be in consistency. Wis'adel is ultimately designed to make the most use of her class's quirks, and you can see that if you look at her S1 and S2.

Wis'adel's S1 and S2 are also quite good skills, and they actually follow the design perspectives that you would expect them to. They get overshadowed a lot by her S3, but S1 and S2 are good, honest, Flinger skills at their core, and their helped by Wis'adel having good numbers.

Ultimately, I think this is more a result of how just how barebones the class is, so the result you get is the class having these long stints between releases of operators.

Rosmontis: 11/1/2020-11/15/2020 || 4/30/2021-5/14/2021 Greyy: 7/5/2022-7/19/2022 || 3/14/2023-3/28/2023 Wis'adel: 5/1/2024-5/15/2024 || 8/31/2024-9/14/2024

I've also included CN dates because when we're talking about Greyy, that means Dorothy's Vision, an infamously delayed event lol. The difference between Rosmontis and Wis'adel was three and a half years, which is kind of absurd. There are other classes with pretty big gulfs between 6-star releases and they honestly have that same sort of feeling too: look at Pozemka versus Schwarz, Typhon vs Rosa, Mountain vs Chongyue, Hellagur vs Zuo Le...you know.

If we had gotten a solid intermediate between Rosmontis and Wis'adel, one that wasn't dealing with the insane numbers Wis'adel is but wasn't necessarily hampered as badly by her kit as Rosmontis, I think Wis'adel would have been a lot more understandable, especially in terms of kit design. As it is now though, yeah it's pretty massive whiplash. I'm not gonna sit here and be like "You need to agree with my opinion or else" though because this ultimately is just personal opinion and taste.

>The branch on a surface level is designed to clear crowds of weak enemies, not to nuke down elites or bosses. Similar to Splash Casters (who are also quite disliked in an overblown manner).

So I'm not disagreeing here per se, I just think it is a little funny that Rosmontis's one CC clear is...nuking down elites and bosses lol. I'm going to link the Risk 31 clear that uses her (alongside Bagpipe) to take out the Bladehelm Recruit and the Risk 30 clear that uses her for that same Recruit but also to kill the Withered Knight. They're neat clears! Definitely a window in the possibility of what Rosmontis might have done in a CC like CC6 if it wasn't for the release of Chen the Holungday.

>Also about Dusk: She was considered pretty bad until her ModY came out. She wasn't that bad, her S2 in particular was/is quite powerful, but ModY really elevated her and helped her fulfill the phantasy of using her S3 to put up a mass of summons to hold back groups of enemies.

Yeah I didn't touch on Dusk much because I couldn't exactly remember what the hype level was around her release. I think it was initially positive but less positive than I remember Mostima being lol.

>On release, people were disappointed by how "bad she is at levitating enemies" when that isn't even really the point. The levitation is just a means to an end, that being activating her silence and damage boost, as well as disrupting attack windups. Her S2 deals really good damage (450% atk per attack), S1 is way more consistent in actually levitating enemies than you'd think, because enemies tend to enter her range one by one and S3 is alright. It has good use-cases and excels against large bosses, cause she can hit them with three tornados at once.

Yeah Ho'ol is the one that's the "wife" in that sentence. I think even calling Silence the Paradigmatic bad is a little mean, even though her kit is very strangely designed.

Ho'olheyak suffered a lot from aesthetic complaints, my least favorite kind. People wanted the tornadoes from her S3 to levitate entire groups of enemies instead of just one, and this bugged them enough to call her bad by extension.

I have rather poor views of the wider community's ability to discern whether Operators are good or not, if this isn't clear lol. I actually really like Ho'ol, she's well designed in that all three of her skills have uses but she definitely suffers from not being the most consistent of the Core Casters. When you're competing with Eyja and Ceobe, it is ultimately a little rough. Her S2 is secretly her goat skill I'm pretty sure tho

How the Arknights Community was Wrong on One of Arknight's Most Powerful Classes

Or, alternatively, you all need to apologize to Rosmontis right now.

Flingers are experiencing a modern Renaissance right now. Thanks to the release of Wis'adel and the introduction of Rosmontis's absolutely busted IS module, it seems like things are on the up and up for Flingers. Even Greyy the Lightningbearer is a common sight in high level IS runs, and he doesn't even have a broken module.

How on Earth did this happen, when it wasn't very long ago that Flingers were the butt and punchline of their own joke?

The Original Let's start with how the archetype was introduced into the game: Rosmontis. Rosmontis was released alongside Mudrock for the Chapter 8 release event, and the reception was pretty mixed. Rosmontis was a limited operator, and to this point, limited operators in Arknights had been pretty middling. Nian wasn't really conclusively better than Hoshiguma, and W was good but nothing special. We were not at the point yet where Dusk or Skadi the Corrupting Heart had been released, so the running joke was typically to roll on the other operator on a limited banner. Mudrock was a really strong laneholder that still sees a lot of use today, and Weedy is by far the strongest shifter operator ever released.

It's also worth noting that Rosmontis was released during a general downturn of opinions on AoE ranged operators. Leonhardt and Meteorite were considered actually quite strong in the early days of Arknights, and I know this must sound crazy, but Mostima and W were actually super hyped for their release. People thought Mostima, base-ass Mostima with no modules, was good. But after CC Blade, and a general stint of CCs where AoE operators made relatively poor performances, the tide had shifted. Operators like Eyjafjalla and Angelina (god remember when Angelina was considered really good. Well I guess she is now. Regardless) had AoE capabilities but were much cheaper in DP and had solid secondary skills for dealing with single enemies. So people were generally pretty down on AoE operators, which wasn't helped later on by the release of Passenger, an operator considered so bad it resulted in several attempts by Hypergryph to make him better (the retrospective view is that while Passenger was bad, he was made out to be a lot worse than he was, a view I agree with).

These two factors did not help the views of Rosmontis as an operator, but it was also further not helped by what content was available to use Rosmontis in: Contingency Contract. Rosmontis, tragically, released after the first theme of Integrated Strategies came and went, and so the only high level content available to use her in was CC. CC is particularly harsh to Flingers as we'll discuss, but this is also something that Wis'adel has managed to avoid as there hasn't been a CC since her release. The only difficult content since Wis'adel's release has been IS and RA, two game modes that honestly favor Flingers as we'll discuss later on. There was just nowhere to use Rosmontis in more difficult content where she didn't feel bad.

Flingers are a pretty interesting subclass, and Arknights has really not designed any subclasses to be like them, ultimately. They have a very impressive attack range, higher bulk than other ranged operators, and a unique gimmick to their attacks: they will deal an additional hit of damage, but one that only has 50% of their ATK. In addition to this, Flingers are the only Sniper subclass that cannot hit aerial enemies without certain conditions being met (Wis'adel's S3, Rosmontis S3 with an aerial blocker).

In general, this results in a class that is very good at dealing with large groups of enemies with only modest DEF stats. This is because DEF ends up having an increased effect on Rosmontis' damage, because it will apply to both of her hits. An enemy with 375 DEF will, after the 175 Def ignore from her talent, reduce her attack damage by a total of 400.

This for a lot of people was sort of the final straw that broke the Rosmontis back. Her vulnerability to enemies having DEF was a problem, and it was generally stated to be in a way that other DPS checks would avoid. In addition, if we take a look at ideal DPS scenarios with the introductory 6-star for each Sniper class:

Ray: 1,346.22 Narantuya: 1,062 Schwarz: 880.28 Exusiai: 815.99 Chen the Holungday: 647.17 Rosmontis: 601.71 Fartooth: 583.88 Rosa: 539 W: 373.93

Rosmontis is very middle of the pack, losing in particular to Exusiai. Now, Exusiai also had the problem of being very soft to enemy DEF stats. Honestly, it should be noted that Rosmontis was always hitting higher DPH than Exusiai would for her normal attack damage.

(I've been getting really into Desmos lately)

Now this is all just auto-attack stuff and I don't want this to be exclusively a Rosmontis analysis by any means (although it's coming). The point here is that there was a pretty common conception that Rosmontis didn't really have a place in the meta, because Exusiai was so dominant in that spot. It's not hard to understand why. If we look at their S3 DPS really quickly...

At low DEF values, Exusiai is overdominant. This isn't super surprising, as she has a lot of factors working in her favor: a busted 5 hit S3, an attack interval reduction as well as a sizable ASPD buff from her talent. But it doesn't take a huge amount of defense for Rosmontis to come out on top. The specific DEF number is 580, roughly. Then, the perks of Rosmontis's S3 come to light: it's larger DEF ignore, it's halved attack interval, and it's much larger ATK buff.

This being said, there are still things working against Rosmontis, like her skill cycle being very long, and her own ATK buff resulting in Warfarin's buff being diluted compared to Exusiai. If you take a look at CC results, it is true that Rosmontis only has one top to her name: CC Spectrum, where she is part of a Risk 31 clear alongside Exusiai, which is pretty cool. But CCs, which often increase enemy DEF while reducing friendly ATK, are just very harsh to Flingers. Given that it is a class so sensitive to DEF and ATK changes to hit breakpoints, most CCs just hit Rosmontis in a double bind.

Funnily enough, Exusiai also doesn't have any top clears in CC past this point too, which is interesting to point out.

(For those counting: Rosmontis: CC5 Exusiai: CC1, CC5)

Rosmontis' position probably wasn't helped past this point by the release of Chen the Holungday either, and the rest is history. Rosmontis goes down as one of the weaker 6-stars in the game. People feel bad when they roll her. People on this website nurse weird ass grudges against her.

The Blip

It would be remiss of me to not remind people about Greyy the Lightningbearer. Greyy was a 5-star, which means that 99% of players ignored his existence, Gamepress made a dogshit summary about him that was made by people who don't play the game, and life moved on. We're going to talk about Greyy in more detail later on because he is important to talk about...

Oh well right now

Lone Trail: The Update That Should Have Changed Everything

Lone Trail was a super massive event, releasing three 6-stars that can be kindly regarded as "good but nothing amazing, bad, and my wife". It also introduced to the game the Flinger Modules, and I'm going to tell you all a secret. You and me, real close now.

It's fucked up these modules didn't receive more hype.

These modules gave Flingers a second shockwave hit. Now that doesn't seem all that impressive. After all, you might think to yourself, that shockwave still deals 50% damage. But the addition of an extra shockwave really changed the numbers of the game, because it meant a huge chunk more damage.

At minimum (673 DEF roughly) this module improves her damage by about 45%. That's pretty crazy for a module as it stands, but if you want to see the full chart, here you go. Arknights Youtubers hire me.

The extremely high peak there, where Rosmontis is doing more than triple the damage she was originally is actually getting to the exact point where Rosmontis without a module moves towards dealing scratch damage. This is pretty common with modules involving physical DPS operators, such as Blaze, to have very unique high points.

But this is 45% just off of, what is essentially

An extra shockwave

60 more points of DEF Ignore

+75 ATK attribute

This is a remarkably tame talent upgrade. The base effect, the second shockwave, is pulling so much work here. These numbers will be a bit more tame when you compare with S2 (already comes with +2 shockwaves) or S3 (already has some DEF shred) but this is still a very impactful module.

It also impacts the stun chance on her S2. Without her module, and having 4 total hits per attack, this puts her stun chance at roughly 59.04% per attack. The additional hit raises those chances to 67.232%. Not a massive increase, but it does help to patch up her odds.

This is also why Greyy's module was so important. Greyy's slow is tied to his talent, and hence the jump from 2 hits to 3 hits is very notable. Without his module, Greyy has a 64% chance to slow the enemy with every attack. With his module, those chances go up to 78.4%! That's pretty significant! He also deals 15% more damage to Slowed enemies too, which is a pretty strong mod on top of the extra shockwave. I haven't actually done Greyy's numbers, but it really does make him a lot more consistent at slowing enemies.

So now we're here, with Flinger's getting a surprisingly good module. They now deal 3 hits per attack, with Rosmontis dealing 5 hits per attack with her S2, which is actually relevant for Lone Trail (Rosmontis can remove a clean 250 DEF with every one of her attacks during her S2 against Arc Screenguards). So what happened?

Well...Flingers weren't popular, were widely regarded as a flawed class, and mostly passed over. It just wasn't worth it to people to raise Rosmontis or Greyy the Lightningbringer even if you had some inkling their module was good.

The Return of Integrated Strategies and Reclamation Algorithm

A miracle the likes of which Hypergryph may never do again...well okay maybe they will, they do be kind of nailing it on the alternate gamemodes, we have the return of Integrated Strategies and Reclamation Algorithm. These modes are actually uniquely situated in comparison to CC to benefit Flingers over other classes. This is largely because of how these modes chose to scale difficulty and the tools they give you to combat this.

In IS, enemy difficulty typically results in scaling HP and ATK buffs, and that's it. It's rare to see enemy DEF buffs in IS. In addition, many relics in IS focus on increasing ATK or ASPD or improving damage dealt. Flingers get much and much better when they deal damage with their shockwaves, and it is pretty easy to do that in IS. Rosmontis's S2 is of special note here: with her module, it deals 5 hits of damage, which means it benefits from ATK buffs to the same degree as Exusiai does, but with a lot of added perks. DEF ignore, a moderate AoE radius, and a chance to stun. This skill is way more dangerous with additional ASPD.

Greyy also benefits a ton here. Extra ASPD allows him to basically permanently lock down entire groups of enemies with slow. This is something that can also sort of be done with Chain Casters, but notably, Chain Casters can only slow down a certain number of enemies at a time with each of their attacks. Since slowed enemies tend to create clusters, Greyy can slow down entire waves of enemies with his attacks, while still dealing pretty impressive damage.

The only issue is the aerial enemies. I haven't mentioned this up until now, because in my opinion, it is the single most overhyped drawback in the entire game. There are tons of events and chapter releases where this basically doesn't matter. Aerial enemies are, for all intents and purposes, rather rare in Arknights. But in IS this is important. Flingers need some degree of map knowledge to use well. But your Sniper ticket is not necessarily the only solution to aerial enemies in any IS, and chances are you'll find more than one. For IS3, you can pick up Kroos Alter and Rosmontis and in the grand majority of situations be completely fine.

Of course, if you play IS5, this basically isn't an issue and Rosmontis is the second stronger Flinger in the game, and I think arguably the second strongest Sniper pick?

I almost forgot RA by the time I went to post this, so it's a good thing I went back because, yes, Flingers and Rosmontis are also good there too. It's literally designed for Flingers to be good, it's huge mobs of enemies all clustered closely around each other. You can use Provisions to give Rosmontis a ton of ATK or ASPD and watch her go ham on like 115 exploding spiders. They also have amazing range for vision on resource maps and have multi-hit mechanics for those stupid locks.

It's like, impressive how nicely Flingers slot in here. I'm really curious how Greyy feels when you give him one of the ASPD provisions so he has +60 ASPD.

Rosmontis CRAVES your Coagulate Supplements!!!!

The End-Times: Wis'adel and Rosmontis's Busted Module

If you've ever wanted to know how we got to this renaissance, it was Wis'adel being released, having absolutely busted numbers on her kit that basically ensured that her shockwaves would always do damage, and then going and soloing IS3 A15 like it was fucking nothing.

Wis'adel proved Flingers could be fucking fantastic.

Rosmontis has actual problems in her kit, she's ultimately a pretty early Limited operator with all the design choices that carries. Wis'adel is what you get when you ask "how far can a Flinger go?" The shockwave mechanic works well with her huge numbers and her shadow status effect. Her summons work to keep as many enemies as possible attached with a shadow. Her blast radius is massive. Honestly the fact she can blow up the UFOs in IS3 barely matters.

Soon after that, Rosmontis got her specialized Module. I've seen people complain about this. You're wrong. There's no fucking way this module should be allowed to be used in general content. It is, in fact, maybe the most busted specialized module they've released. It completely changes Rosmontis as an operator. Benefitting from Caster relics is insane for themes like IS3 which has a ton of genuinely broken ones, her new and improved equipment are insanely powerful, and the fact that she allows every Sniper and Caster to create a free rather tanky blocker with a crazy debuff effect is like

You understand this module is nuts? Surely?

The trait wouldn't really make Rosmontis meta anyhow. It would improve her damage by a lot but puts her, rather frustratingly, into the camp of mixed offensive operators who now have to worry about enemy RES values coming into play. Plenty of the enemies with decent DEF stats that Rosmontis struggles with now also come with sizable RES stats. As I've mentioned in my brief thoughts on Dagda, there are a ton of enemies Dagda hits harder by brute force than Indra does by trying to side-step the bigger stat.

It's also okay that the module is IS only, because IS is where Flingers are just at their best. Nothing is stopping you from using Rosmontis in general content, especially with her still really good BOM-X module!

Flingers, ultimately, are just a well-designed class. They have great range, AoE, and having extra instances of damage is always incredibly powerful. I do think Rosmontis has some kit issues, but I also think that a lot of people immediately dismissed her as bad based on community consensus. You want to know a cool thing about Rosmontis I haven't brought up yet? She can attack invisible enemies with her S3. Invisible enemies feel a lot more common than aerial enemies do, hell Lappland the Decadenza's event is literally a bunch of invisible enemies.

But like, that's never seen as a positive to Rosmontis unless you're a Sniperknights player and then you might just say Totter is better (and I get that, he is a bit more consistent). Rosmontis can hit an entire enemy type with her S3 that Wis'adel can't, but it's seemingly never mentioned. It's just...this community is very strange, you know?

Try Rosmontis out, hell try her out with Shamare or Warfarin. If you use Exusiai a bunch (godspeed soldier it's been rough since the Chen days), you probably already have those operators. Try Greyy out too. Then, if you really want the challenge, E0 Level 1 Wis'adel. Come on. You know that's better than like half the cas-

[thenewgirl76]

It starts off more or less the same. Justice League learns of both the past and present Ghost King, Justice League with JLD's reluctant help summons Ghost King of present hoping to gain another supernatural ally. Justice League learns said king is a child managing all his responsibilities by the skin of his teeth, and offers to help him however they can.

It goes a little differently while becoming acquainted with some of King Phantom's most trusted associates. Specifically when it's Wonder Woman's turn to see how well she holds up against a ghostly opponent with the proper counter measures by sparring with Wulf.

Everything's going smoothly up until Wulf accidently nicks Diana with his claws. It takes so many assurances to let the young king know of any changes or side effects she experiences just to keep him from spiraling.

Not wanting to further burden him Diana does the complete opposite, much to everyone's horror. She doesn't call on Phantom when she becomes overwhelmed by her now heightened senses, especially the hearing and smelling. She refuses to call him when she develops the rather mortifying habit of licking Batman or Superman's face along with anyone else she holds fondness for.

She won't inform him when she keeps picking fights with Hawk Woman and Vixen. And she digs her heels in even further when she starts scarfing down concerning quantities of meat.

She only becomes convinced to let King Phantom know of her predicament when Flash purposely provokes her into exhibiting food aggression by bringing his hand too close to one of the many steak sandwiches on her plate. Once the horrifying realization that she almost literally bit his hand off, and afterwards threatened to leave the speedster with a bloody stump if he ever touched her food again hits her, Diana finally relents and calls up Phantom. Much to the rest of the League's relief.

[camellcat]

reading a post s7 fic and it's got me thinking... like, y'know, maybe the reason wil and xand struggle with their partners is because no one really comes above buffy. they're part of the slayer's arsenal, her best weapons, her biggest supports. and why buffy has such people troubles in general is because she will always always save wil and xand before anybody else. cause it's them three against the world