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#apologies for any incorrect information
somecunttookmyurl · 2 years
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non-queer/gender boyfriend content incoming
rhys: *showing me an image on his fb feed that says 'autistic play is not inappropriate play'* what does this mean? inappropriate play?
me: autistic children will often play or interact with things differently to their neurotypical peers like... instead of building something with lego just sorting the blocks into size and colour or what have you and non-autistic adults see this as doing it "wrong" or not "appropriately" and try to stop it and force you to "play" how you are "supposed to". but there is nothing wrong with engaging in play differently as long as it isn't hurting someone, you're simply having fun in a way they don't understand. repeatedly trying to force autistic children to "play properly" isn't going to work it's just shitty and will make them feel bad because they don't understand what they're doing "wrong"
rhys: ohhhhh! is that why my mum would get frustrated with me for just posing my action figures on a shelf in cool ways and would try to get me to like. bash them together
me: yep! the "normal" way of playing with action figures is to act out scenes and make them interact with each other. but you had more fun arranging them nicely and looking at them.
rhys: i don't think she meant anything bad by it
me: not intentionally, no. she just didn't understand that is how you played and thought you just didn't know what you were doing and were confused
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a-tea-goblin · 17 days
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Update: I was Wrong (incorrect info in red)
FLYING BARK IS NOT GONE: about the trailer animation
PLEASE DO NOT SPREAD THE IDEA THAT FLYING BARK WAS REPLACED.
THIS IS FALSE.
Flying Bark made the decision to outsource additional animation, this includes things like trailers and promos- not the actual show. this decision was made because Flying Bark is also currently working on the upcoming animated ATLA movie, and they needed to lessen their workload. Flying Bark is still handling the animation of the actual episodes and specials, they just needed some breathing room and got that by giving some of the less important responsibilities- like promos and trailers- to someone else for the time being.
the animation isn't even bad, there's no need to act like this is the end of the world and start acting like everything will be changed forever. though I will give some of ya'll the benefit of the doubt and say you probably didn't know these details, but we shouldn't have jumped to conclusions anyway.
edit: there is a post saying that Wildbarin has a deal for two seasons + specials of LMK, this was a misread, the site this info was taken from was mentioning the already existing content for LMK on Amazon Kids+. the deal wildbrain was, again, for the additional animation. Please do not harass this blog if you see the post however.
edit 2: it has been alleged that Wildbrain has been given a 1-2 year deal for two seasons + a special per leaked "legal documents" from Flying Bark, and I may have been wrong in the above edit. this has yet to be confirmed, if it comes out as true then I will be removing this post, so far I have seen nothing but the misread website however. that being said if it is true, FLYING BARK IS STILL SET TO RETURN ONCE THAT DEAL IS FINISHED. but be warned, my word is not law, and I'm not infallible.
PLEASE REBLOG AND SHARE THIS REPOST TO OTHER SITES IF NEEDED
SPREAD THE WORD
PLEASE DO NOT HARASS ANYONE FROM LMK'S TEAMS OR WILDBRAINS'S OR ANY OTHER PERSON SPREADING NEWS ON THE SHOW
UPDATE:
thank you to @anxiescape for providing more information/confirmation directly from Flying Bark
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(Tweet from a director at Flying Bark)
unfortunately Flying Bark does seem to be fully parting ways with LEGO Monkie Kid due to the inability to keep up with deadlines, likely contributing to the decision to sign off the license to Wildbrain as that would make a change from hand drawn animation to puppet 2d/3d animation.
please note that the voice teams and writing teams are remaining the same, only the animation team is being changed.
that being said looking at the trailer the main differences in the animation appears to be in the dept and lighting, things that can be easily fixed and likely are only off because the are unfinished. the animation we see in the trailer is likely not the final product, and I implore fans to remain patient and respectful with our new animation team.
(but again, please do not take my world for law, I am not immune to human error)
I apologize for helping further misinformation about lmk s5.
farewell Flying Bark, you'll be missed.
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ghostybaby000 · 29 days
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He found you. Again. | Part 1
part 2 part 3
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Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader
Summary: You had never truly had any issues with what you thought was a creep with a crush, that is until you realized it was far more serious-but by then, it was too late. 
Warnings: 18+, stalker, symptoms of panic, future smut
Word Count: 2.5k
(Not fully edited, apologies for any incorrect information!)
From someone with a username, to someone who had entirely become obsessed with your life, and all of its details since high school. You weren’t famous online, and you certainly didn’t try to be, in fact you enjoyed having only a few close friends. This once innocent crush became destructive when you found they had been talking to family members about you and what you, ‘were up to’. You knew that stalkers weren’t something to mess around with and once you had found the right people to talk to, you were able to file a restraining order which worked, for some time. 
Years had gone by, and the interaction had totally abandoned your mind not hearing or seeing anything from the matter for so long, you assumed it had passed. That is until you were visiting your family’s home in your childhood town, and found a dark figure watching you from the roadside. Here, in this small town where this obsessive behavior had begun, in this home where you once felt warmth and safety you now felt dread and utter panic.
While you had just been passing in the upstairs hallway, you happened to look down and froze, as memories of the monster crawled up your spine causing you to bead sweat from anger or fear, you couldn’t tell. From this distance you wouldn’t guess it was a person, just a dark shadow as the sun was setting on the other side of your house, where your family was waiting for you to return. 
You stood still, although your heart couldn’t help pounding in your chest until you could heart it reverberate in between your ears, a constant reminder of the fight or flight battle occurring in your mind. You felt a buzz in your back pocket causing you to flinch just enough to be noticeable, your phone. You considered reaching for it, not wanting to take your eyes off the figure, now standing facing you directly, a cold dark stare plastered over their hooded face looking up at you. Now that they’ve positioned themselves to face you more directly you take in more details, some that you recall being very different from years past.  They seem slightly taller and broader, and stronger, much stronger. Although the coloration of the clothing is difficult to see from this distance, you can just make out that they are wearing large boots, and a jacket that made them look all the more intimidating while a hood kept their lurking eyes from yours. Your instincts tell you to scream, to yell for a family member to call the police, to come and take this thing that was so persistent in getting to you it made you sick.  You couldn’t find it in your turning stomach to yell out, still feeling as if your feet were glued to the ground, your heartbeat the only thing confirming you weren’t dreaming. 
You finally find it in you to reach for your phone, and instead of looking at the screen you held it close to your body, eyes still focused on the figure. You think through your options taking a second to realize that your family was just downstairs, a lump forming in your throat, considering if he were bold enough to try and come inside. You could look down to call the police, although you had a feeling it wouldn’t be that effective seems how they were standing outside your home- and then it occurred to you. How did he know you were back in town? You kept every detail of your personal life offline, not even allowing friends to post much about you. This thought made your stomach flip again, when you hear a saving grace from just downstairs. 
Relentless barking from the family dog caused the hulking figure to saunter farther from the house backwards, only turning their back when necessary. They finally make their way across the street where they jump a fence and vanish as if they had already routed it out in their mind. 
As soon as the figure is gone you yell out for your mother, who comes bounding up the stairs along with the dog into your room, who was simply happy to see you and who had unsuspectingly protected you and your family. You scramble for your phone, words fumbling from your mouth in trying to explain what had happened to your now very concerned mother.
‘What do you mean he’s back?, who is he?’
‘T-The stalker- the guy who we got a restraining order for just a few years ago!?, You don’t remember him? ‘ You ramble out breathlessly, your heart still racing, hoping with everything that she would believe you.
‘Oh honey no, who in their right minds would come at this hour, and let alone after so long-‘
She’s taken aback when she sees the piercing look you give her, when she’s able to finally see the sweat beading down your face, your hands still shaking just as intensely as your breathing. 
‘Are you sure, and I mean sure it was him- no chances it wasn’t?’ 
You already have the phone to your ear, calling for the police before she can allow you to second guess yourself, you knew what you saw. 
Soon after that event and the police being as helpful as possible you made your way back home, states away where you finally began to feel at peace. You reassured your mother and father multiple times a day that you were okay and made it home safe for a few weeks afterwards, knowing that you weren’t just doing it for you but for them as well. 
This peacefulness was disturbed when you had found yourself face to face with your new neighbor. The neighbor that was far taller than you, far more muscular than you had thought, and on top of that incredibly intimidating.
You had just come back from work, making your way into the elevator taking notice of everyone there that at some point you had spoken to. The other people had gotten off on their level by the time you had made your way up to the fourth floor, when the elevator doors opened and there he was. 
You hadn’t gotten a chance to see the new neighbor that moved in, being quiet in his own room down the hall a few rooms from yours, allowed for you to barley notice him until now and you couldn’t help but tear your gaze away as you made eye contact with him through a mask he was wearing. 
‘Oh, h-hello I suppose you’re the new neighbor?’
The elevator doors began to close as his hand, which you now noticed was larger than you had thought reached out to hold them open as he stepped out of the way so you could pass.
‘Yes’  
His thick accent and deeper tone made you feel unnerved, maybe he was nervous moving into a new building, or didn’t want to talk with anyone. If anything you understood trying to stay away from others and keeping yourself closed off. You step out of the hall essentially swapping places with him as you make one last glance at him, his back to the elevator wall with his head slightly tilted up, you now see he has boots on…boots that are quite large and seem to be military.
You feel a flush through your body as you scramble to your room, making sure to lock both the deadbolt and door itself as worry was catching up to you now. You think for a second to call your parents and tell them…
Tell them what? A neighbor moved in- a man who has an accent and military grade boots- no, you would sound ridiculous. There were plenty of good reasons for him to be staying in these apartments- one being a nearby base. Instead, you try to relax by preparing something quick to eat and taking a warm shower, reading for a bit then getting to bed. 
You’d noticed him more after that interaction, realizing he only lived 2 doors down and that he was in the military- to what degree or position you had no clue. This made sense as he would be gone for days on end, sometimes even weeks on what you assumed were missions of some sort. He didn’t try to talk to you or go out of his way to say anything neighborly, instead he would give you passing glances and the occasional head nod as he made him way to his room. You became accustomed to him living on your floor and figured that the next time you’d see him you would try to get to at least know his name.
This happened far sooner than you thought, the next day to be exact as you saw him pulling up outside the building. You made your way outside to a nearby bench and found him with a group of what appeared to be other military men all dressed similarly with a calm but stern expression, although you couldn’t really make out his expression being hidden by the mask. The mask he wears makes sense when you believe you hear someone refer to him as ‘Ghost’, clearly he didn’t give away much personal information even to those closer to him. You thought it would be rude to assume you heard correctly, so instead you figure you would ask. You waited until his group had left and attempted to speak with him as he made a gesture for the door to the apartments. 
‘Hey, I never caught your name-‘ You say as you get up from the bench motioning towards him.
He slows his movement in hearing you for just a second, yet still made his way inside which to you, seemed to be ignoring you.
Maybe he just wasn’t a friendly person, you were sure that being in the military was difficult, as you’d seen him before making it too his room with a limp or wrapped hand. You decided to not push the matter any more, almost feeling embarrassed for trying to get his attention, angry at yourself and feeling foolish slightly overhearing his conversation. With a bit of speed in your step you made your way to the market to pick up some ingredients for dinner, which was your original plan before that embarrassment.
Later in the evening you find that you’d forgotten some things and would enjoy some fresh air before getting to bed for work tomorrow. You usually went to the market that was a few blocks away, but tonight you decided that you’d like to walk to the local market which was only a few buildings down. As the sun was setting you found it nice to notice the change in seasons and the small families walking together, making a mental note to call and check in on your own family later.
You purchase your few items and start to head back to the apartments when you reconcile about your interaction earlier. Opening the door to the building you think to yourself,
He had clearly slowed down when he heard me-why not respond? Passing the receptionists desk with a small wave and smile. 
He didn’t seem very open to talking, I’m sure he’s got plenty on his plate. The last thing he needs is someone pestering him. Pressing the elevator button, watching the floor numbers tick down until they had reached one. 
And on top of that, I really should try and keep myself more reserved-who knows what kind of a person he really is or why he is so mysterious. Stepping into the elevator, pausing before turning to press the button. More people shuffle in as you watch your feet still lost in your thoughts, until again you are what seemed to be the only one left in the small boxy elevator. 
Why did I try to ask in the first place-
‘It’s Ghost’ You inhale sharply, whipping around to see the one that had been so imbedded in your thoughts now looming behind you. He sees your panic and continues to speak anyways.
‘People call me Ghost; You really should pay attention more closely to your surroundings.’ 
Still catching your breath as the door opens to both of your floors he begins to walk to his room, leaving you in the elevator.
‘O-Oh well I’m Y/N’ Why were you so quiet? You were almost sure he didn’t hear you now being steps ahead of you. How had such a large man made his way behind you-had you been that lost in thought? All of a sudden his name made sense.
 Your mind catches up with you as you straighten yourself and start to walk towards your room as well. He’s making his way inside fishing his keys from his pockets when, despite your thoughts not to, you ask,
‘What’s your real name, Ghost?’ 
He pauses for a moment to look up at you, his eye contact making you feel nervous yet still standing tall you waited for his response. He finds the correct key and unlocks his door with ease returning his eyes to his door. Using his hand to push it ajar you think he’s going to leave without giving you a response again, only starting to make you feel worse for asking. He takes a breath as if he were going to answer but instead leaves you with only a ‘goodnight.’
You had continued on with your work life, your job feeling more boring by the day. Sometimes chatting with your parents and brother and making easy home dinners. Tonight you had made a microwave dinner, and decided to watch one of your favorite detective shows before drifting to sleep on the couch. Hours later you jolt wake to the sound of gun shots coming from the TV, it was louder than you had thought and hoped it hadn’t woken any of your neighbors. The room in-between yours and ‘Ghosts’ hadn’t been occupied in a while along with plenty of other rooms on the fourth floor, and you worried about being too loud possibly waking anyone up- especially those who didn’t get rest often. 
You quickly turn down the volume and click off the TV, bringing your snack wrappers to the kitchen finally making your way to your bedroom. You’re just passing through the hall to your room when you hear a knocking at the door. You felt your stomach drop, you had woken him up. You woke him up and now he was here to scold you for being so inconsiderate- you saunter to the door still tired yet moving quickly enough to not make him more upset. You open the door, prepared with an apology yawning as you do so, looking to the ground embarrassed.
‘I’m sorry for the noise, I didn’t realize it was so loud’ Rubbing your eyes you get a chance to look up and see now more clearly than ever, this was not Ghost. This couldn’t be ghost, he wasn’t as tall and wasn’t masked in the slightest. It only took you a few seconds to age the younger features you once new and had seen in reports, and now you knew that your fears had come to light.
He had found you. Again. 
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omggggg can i request billingual reader and maybe peter finds it cute that when shes explaining stuff she has a thinking face of what to say next cos she wants to be sure of how to say it in english 🥹 or maybe hearing her speak in her mother tongue/native language does he find it cute or smn :(((((((
as a white english–speaking woman, i only feel comfortable writing for a bilingual reader with a language/culture that i’m relatively familiar with and could properly represent, which isn’t many :,)
so i will write an imagine for a bilingual reader with a language i’m going to school for: ✨sign language✨
i hope that’s okay :)
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a/n — i am still a student and i’m constantly learning, so if there’s a detail or some information that i’m incorrect about, please tell me asap !!!
✨masterlist✨.
2.5k.
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Sitting alone at cafes was a custom for you. People watching, spectating murmurs and laughter but never quite grasping it. You lacked the understanding of how the sound captured their conversing, but you weren’t missing anything. Your focus was mainly set on finishing your chemistry homework, anyways.
Midway through an equation, the light shifted over your table. You felt the dip in the booth on your left and looked up to see who sat beside you. Your eyes met the deepest brown pair you swore you’d ever seen. It was almost like the rest of the room lit up with color after you first caught a glimpse.
You certainly recognized the boy. He went to school with you, but you’d barely crossed paths other than having a class or two together. And from the way he glanced at your paperwork, you assumed that chemistry was on his schedule too.
His lips moved, and your eyes studied their shapes as best as they could. Perhaps he was nervous, or overly caffeinated, but the movement was too swift to distinguish.
Slowly, you shook your head at him, right index finger pointing to your ear. Apology and disappointment weighted your eyelids. You really did want to see what he wanted to ask you, but your expectation was for him to up and leave.
Instead, sudden understanding washed over him; a look of epiphany. Quickly after, patience overtook the presence beside you. You were shocked. He tried to slow his words of choice down, using his hands to illustrate but not really communicate. You could tell he was trying, so you didn’t want to make fun of his efforts. The smallest fit of laughter threatened to slip from your lips as you gestured at him to stop.
From the table, you grabbed your notebook and flipped to an empty page. Your pencil flew over the page to jot down a question:
‘Do you know any sign?’
You figured that was a start.
Watching the way he smiled, you nearly forgot to hand him your pencil to reply. Your eyes followed his hand as it met the parchment and scribbled so gently, it surprised you to see writing even stuck. He pushed it over to you. ‘Yes, I know one’
Your eyes met, and you studied him patiently. His right hand sat atop of his left elbow, holding a fist that excluded his pinky and index fingers; a rockstar skull. His left hand rested beneath his right elbow, opening and closing a fist with a flicking motion. It was a sign you knew all too well. ‘Bullshit,’ you watched him mouth.
The giggle bubbles through your throat with physical feeling, and your hands gently pressed his arms to make it stop. You shook your head, smiling as you corrected him.
Your dominant hand met your chin with an open hand, lightly touching the tips of your fingers to your face. As you moved your hand to the space in front of you, you closed your hand into a fist.
‘Bullshit,’ you mouthed back at him. The crinkle in the boy’s brow marked his confusion.
Pen met paper again as you wrote out the explanation. ‘Hearing people came up with a fake sign to act like they knew shit.’
He looked up at you with some disgust to his expression, and you simply shrugged at him.
Politely, he held his hand out for the pen, and you gave it to him with the trust that he’d return it soon after.
‘Then maybe you could teach me some instead?’
The grin on your lips was unbreakable, and only seemed to grow the more you kept up the conversation. You nodded your head, writing a simple ‘sure:)’ beside his note. You met his eyes again, pointing to your chest before swiftly fingerspelling your name. The boy marveled at your hand, equally lost and mesmerized.
His pointer finger rapidly twirled the air, circling near his face four or five times; you assumed that meant he wanted you to repeat yourself. So, you agreed.
Slowly, you held out each hand shape of your name a little longer, waiting til the twinkle in his eyes indicated that the letter was registering for him. It was fairly entertaining to watch.
He wrote it on the notebook once he got it just to clarify with you. ‘Y/N?’ He seemed nervous for your reply.
You signed yes, then gestured for him to do the same. You wanted to see what his name was.
Hesitantly, the boy tried his best, bouncing each hand shape to the letters of his name. It made you happy to see his attempt, and you were fond of his efforts.
Pulling the notebook closer, you jot down his name. ‘Peter?’
You’d never forget the way he smiled at you afterwards. ‘Yes:)’ He wrote back. ‘You want help with chemistry?’
And that’s how you met Peter Parker.
You were an unlikely duo at Midtown. It was nice to have somebody in the classroom to have secret conversations with, and to teach sign to. Peter picked most things up pretty quickly, especially because he had an excellent teacher. Plus, little did you know that he watched ASL courses off YouTube in his free time.
That is, his freetime when he wasn’t being Spider–Man.
He never told you that he was Spider–Man. In fact, you didn’t find out he was until a few months into your friendship. After months of study hours and movie nights, you watched Spider–Man signing to a Deaf kid on the news; the web–slinging superhero signed what like salad.
That was a classic Peter Parker mistake.
So, when were you planning to tell me you’re Spider–Man? You asked him, signing nonchalantly. You’d waited all week until you two were alone, studying like you normally did on the weekends. You sat back on his desk chair, raising a brow, calm and collected.
It took everything in him not to forget how to respond. Peter had been practicing sign, but he still wasn’t nearly as versed as you were. What? He started. Poor way to respond on his part. You pointed at his hands, trying to call him out.
That! You were so determined to catch him in his coverup, opening your laptop.
His hands flailed to try and capture your attention. However, your laser focus was something he couldn’t cut.
Having the clip ready, you played it, turning the screen towards him and showing him the fluke in his signs.
Peter facepalmed when he noticed, face red as a tomato but you couldn’t care less. You felt more than accomplished to have deciphered his secret. You owe me!
Signing, Peter got over himself a little, rolling his eyes playfully at you. Whatever, fine!
To help Peter practice his signing, you’d dismissed your in–class interpreters the second the bell rang and had Peter translate your questions to your teachers. Perhaps it was selfish to put him on the spot, but when you’d asked him about it later, he said he was more than happy to help you out.
He enjoyed learning sign, almost as much as he enjoyed his time with you. Peter had never met anyone as amazing as you; nobody that he’d met before watched the world with your eyes, or lit up a room so vibrantly. You always asked the right questions, saw straight through people’s bullshit, and put others’ needs far before your own. Don’t even get him started on the fact that you’d never even heard your own laugh before.
Peter couldn’t wrap his head around all the things he thought you were missing out on. That was how he saw it, at least, til you changed his mind. He was grateful to know how your fit of giggles sang to him, but there was more things to life than that. Sound was only one way to see the world; if you choose to act like it’s a principle more than a privilege, you’ll get nowhere. He knew he’d waste time dwelling on things you weren’t even sad over.
Instead, Peter would marvel at how fluently and beautifully you’d sign when you were passionate about something. The choreographed tangents that you’d go on absolutely mesmerized him, even though he could only pick up one or two things you were saying.
Your hands moved so fast, he second guessed whether you were actually communicating or just painting a masterpiece with the shapes of your hand.
That blissful, ecstatic look in your eyes told Peter everything he needed to know. He was the luckiest boy in the world to know you.
You were the most joyous person he knew.
That joy was a strength that you’d gained overtime, though.
Rushing down the school halls, you had memorized the rhythm underneath your feet as you pattered down the tile. You always pictured the sound like something fragile, or feathered, especially seeing as your shoes had rubber soles. Sometimes, when you walked slow enough, you could feel the rattling steps of other students around you.
Today, specifically, the rumbled pattern beneath you threw you off your rocker.
Especially as the charging steps behind you tread right in your direction.
A hefty pair of hands shoved your shoulder blades, pushing you toppling into the floor beneath you. The sound of chatter couldn’t be heard, but you certainly felt the energy in the hallway shift. Pressing off the floor with your hands, you noticed the eyes now mindful to your presence. You had an audience.
You flipped yourself around to look at the shadow towering over you. Some flimsy–looking, curly haired, short classmate of yours stood above you. His hands perched on his hips as he spewed words at you, mouth moving far too quickly to lip read. You stayed there, staring up at him with a glare, merely making out the words ‘stupid’ and ‘Parker’ from his muted speech.
You were used to bullies, but you couldn’t sit while this dickhead kept Peter Parker’s name disrespectfully in his mouth.
Just as you pressed up to rise to your feet, this bitchass shoved the toe of his shoe right in the center of your chest, pushing you back into the ground and leaving dirt all over your favorite top. You felt the gasp leave your throat, trying to fight against it.
That’s when Peter Parker swooped in and forced the boy away from you. Anger wasn’t an expression you’d seen on Peter’s face, and you couldn’t tell whether it was something to awe at or fear.
Their echoed shouts and feuds and insults bounced from the floor and into your fingertips. You could tell the words they exchanged were ugly, considering that the two were face to face and both had such crease to their eyebrows. Fists clenched, shoulders squared, you could tell they were about to brawl.
Peter threw the first punch, taking you by surprise but still sending a smile to your lips. The two boys had a displeasing fight to the eye, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to look away.
A girl to your left offered a hand to help you off the floor, to which you signed a quick thank you before both of you saw the boys getting caught by a set of teachers. All it took was a second before the two boys froze dead in their stances and peacefully walked with the teachers down the hall to the principal’s office.
In an instant, all eyes found their way to you and your dirt–stained top. Before you let them react to the heat growing on your cheeks, you rushed off, going to the one place you knew you wouldn’t be disturbed in.
Two and a half hours passed before Peter walked through the open door of his bedroom, a small smile on his lips as he greeted you. Are you okay? He signed quickly, soon shutting the door.
Are you okay? You signed right back, swift to press off your spot on his bed and walk over to him. Peter was the one with the blackened eye and busted lip. Clearly he should be the one to worry about. Your hands found his cheeks and gently cupped his face as you looked at his injuries. The sight broke your heart.
Although, you weren’t expecting to see his pale cheeks brighten with red in your grasp. You could feel the second when his breath stopped fanning your face, and that’s when you realized that his breath had been fanning your face; you were inches away from him. The atmosphere of the room changed.
‘What?’ You mouthed, brows creasing together with concern. You weren’t stupid, but you were definitely choosing to ignore the obvious. There was no way that Peter Parker was flustered by you, right? That was preposterous.
His eyes threatened a glance at your lips before you felt his fingers curl around your wrist. Peter moved your left hand to his chest, pressing against his heart. The skin beneath his shirt pulsed against you, and quickened by the second. Things felt very intimate, things felt very thick and hot and heavy. You didn’t notice it til right then that the room was getting hotter.
Your eyes caught a glimpse of his lips and you hadn’t noticed that you were staring at them. Peter’s face moved closer to your’s and that’s when you decided to be bold. You captured his lips with yours, kissing him tenderly, careful. The caress of his hands down your sides and grasp he held around your waist told you that you didn’t have to tread as cautiously.
Peter kissed you and every inch of you felt warm. You swore you’d lifted off the ground when his hands held your back, your hips, your waist. His lips against yours truly felt something like magic and you never wanted to leave this moment. A moment where his hair was silk between your fingers and his body became one with your’s.
Pulling back, Peter kept his arms around you, now taking the time and the close proximity to study you and your injuries; you learned to recognize the protective look in his eyes. His stare stopped and stuck itself to the dirt smudged between your breasts. He moved his right hand from your waist. Your shirt.. Peter couldn’t help but stare at the stain.
You couldn’t care less about it. What? You want it off? You joked, watching the immediate shift in his expression, and feeling the laughter he admitted through the tips of your fingers on his torso. Peter pulled you back into a kiss and you knew right then and there that things would be different.
Never in your life did you think you’d get so lucky as to meet Peter Parker, but now that you had him, you knew you’d never let him go.
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fandomfucker · 5 months
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Space-Poly!TJD x Fem!Reader
Request: poly relationship between judgment day and reader. The reader is keeping a secret from their partners. The secret is that she is a little. The reason why she is hiding it is because she thinks that they will hate her and leave her like her last partner did. One day when they are all out and she is home by herself she slips into little space and she is in little space for an hour until they get back and Damian goes to check on her and he walks in on her in little space. She's all freaked out. Damian is the only one who knows what little space is. They all explain that it's adorable and that they love her for who she is. Her main caregiver is Damian but they all take care of her when she is in little space. She has a stuffed tiger named Maengho.
A/N-I want to preface this by saying that this is NOT SEXUAL however it is about little space so if you don't want to read it, don't. I would also like to go ahead and apologize for any incorrect information/misrepresentation, I did research on it and tried my best. Please enjoy and sorry for the wait ❤️
Word Count: 2,051
Reader's POV
Alright, Love. We'll be back later, okay?" Rhea informed me as she held my cheeks between her hands. I nodded and smiled up at her as she bent down to kiss my forehead before grabbing the keys to her truck and walking toward the front door.
Finn, Dominik, and Damian, my other three partners, all filed after her. They all gave me a small kiss and a quick goodbye as the four of them left to go film some Judgment Day promos.
Once the door had been shut behind them and I had seen Rhea's truck speed away down the road, I breathed a deep sigh of relief, a small weight being lifted off my shoulders.
Work had been really stressing me out lately but with my partners all unaware of my strategy for coping with stress, I hadn't been able to do anything about it. But now they were out of the house for at least a little while and I was free to do whatever I wanted.
After going and grabbing one of the little bottles of apple juice we kept in the fridge, I happily skipped back to my own room, immediately heading for my walk-in closet.
Shortly after we had all moved into our house together, I had set up a small space for me to be a little in. Basically, somewhere for me to decompress while acting and having the same overall headspace as a child.
The closet wasn't massive but it was just big enough for me to set up what was essentially a giant pillow fort.
The walls were lined with fluffy pillows, half of them the really big tube ones, and the floor was littered with thick fluffy blankets.
I had only a few stuffed animals but they were all my favorite ones. There were about 12 in total, my favorites of favorites were ones from Build a Bear that I'd made with people special to me, my number one being Maengho. He was a tiger I'd gotten all of my partners to build with me a couple of months ago after we first moved into our house.
Fairy lights hung from the ceiling and walls, creating a homey effect that I adored. I also had a small TV mounted on the wall, above a nightstand type of dresser I stored my little clothes in. It was mainly just Disney Princess nightgowns but I also had some My Little Pony pajama sets and a Rainbow Brite sweater for if I was cold enough or just wanted to be extra comfy.
I had some tutus and dress-up jewelry for when I felt like it, but I just enjoyed wearing pajamas more than anything.
Ripping my hair out of the ponytail I'd stuck it in, I plopped down onto a flower-shaped pillow on the floor, beginning to dig through the dresser for a specific Tinkerbell nightgown I knew would be in there.
Not bothering to stand up, I just changed into the dress while sitting on the floor, opening the closet door only for a minute to throw my regular clothes out into my room.
I grabbed the small remote off the dresser, and turned on the TV, turning it to Disney+. My favorite movie of all time since I was a baby was actually The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh so I turned that on as I adjusted the pillows and blankets around me, making myself comfortable.
Sitting criss-crossed apple sauce, and laying a fluffy pink blanket across my lap, I sat Maengho on my lap before setting my little lap tray that had all my coloring stuff stored in the side pockets in front of me.
Opening up the Lisa Franke coloring book, I flipped to a new page, deciding on a picture of two baby penguins in a basket.
For over an hour, I sat in my closet, fully immersed in my little space as I half-paid attention to the movie, coloring in my penguins with vibrant colors.
I was so immersed in fact, that I hadn't heard the garage door open or the calls from my partners soon after.
The door swung open, making me jump and causing me to draw an unwanted line down the center of my paper.
My eyes were wide with fear as I looked up to see all four of my partners looking at me in the doorway, confusion and concern etched on all of their faces.
Damian's POV
Y/n sat on the floor with a stuffed tiger, wearing a Disney princess nightgown, coloring. We all just kind of stopped in our tracks and stared at her in confusion as she looked up at us.
Her eyes were wide and slowly started to become filled with tears. She curled into herself, hugging the tiger, Maengho I remembered, tightly to her chest as she dragged her blanket up to cover her entire body and half of her face.
The tears started falling as she silently cried. I realized what this all was as I gently crouched down to better get on her level.
She began to bring her knees all the way to her chest and curl into herself even further as I reached out a hand to her. I retracted my hand before I scared her to death and took to just speaking to her softly instead.
"Y/n? It's sweetheart, we're not upset."
She lowered the blanket slightly from her face as she looked at me. Her lip quivered as her gaze shifted between me and the other members of the Judgment Day.
"You're not?" She asked timidly.
I shook my head 'no' in answer, glancing back to the other three to see that based on their facial expressions alone, they had no idea what was going on.
Turning back to Y/n, I spoke to her softly and quietly so as to not scare her any further. "Tell you what, us four are gonna go back down to the living room for a few minutes to talk, okay?" I made a circular motion indicating us wrestlers as I spoke.
"Do you want anything in the meantime? Or do you want me to bring you anything from the kitchen?"
She slowly shook her head at that, speaking so quietly I almost didn't hear her. "We don't have anything here."
I gave a nod in understanding a gave her a small smile before standing back up and turning around to push our other partners out of the way as I shut the closet door behind me.
None of them made any move to leave the room until I started making shooing motions with my hands.
Once back downstairs, I had them all sit down on the couch as I stood in front of them to explain what exactly was going on.
Reader's POV
Curious, I waited until I couldn't hear my partners' footsteps anymore before quietly retreating from the safety of my closet.
It was me and Maengho against the world as I held the top of his head to my mouth and tiptoed towards the stairs. I went down as far as I could, keeping to where they wouldn't see me.
I leaned my back against the wall, holding Maengho tightly as we eavesdropped on my partners and their conversation about me.
"Okay, so it seems to me that Y/n is a little. I don't know her specifics but basically, she gets in the headspace of a child to escape reality." I heard Damian explain to them.
There was silence as the others absorbed that information.
"Wait, shouldn't she be a part of this conversation then?" Dominik asked him.
Damian took a second to think about it before responding. "Yeah, we'll have a larger conversation including her, obviously, but I wanted to go ahead and give you guys a basic understanding of what we're getting into. If anyone has a problem with it they can leave."
"That makes sense, but I'm still in." Finn agreed.
"Me too, but I think the first thing we need to do is take her to the store and get her some food and whatever else she wants. We don't want her to feel uncomfortable and like she has to hide this part of her." Rhea vocalized.
"I second that." I heard Dominik speak up, ever the Mami's boy.
"Let's go then!" I heard Damian exclaim as they then all began to make their way back upstairs to my room.
Panicking, I shot up from where I was sitting on the stairs, making a beeline back to my fort.
However, in my haste to make it back before they realized I'd been listening in on their private conversation, I somehow missed the last step entirely.
My toe caught the edge of it, sending me sprawling across the rough carpet of the second-floor hallway. "Fuck!"
Four sets of footsteps pounded up the stairs and the sound of my name being called in a panic was all I heard.
Feeling a warm hand on my shoulder blade I rolled over with a groan, seeing Damian kneeling next to me. "Are you okay, princesa?"
I managed to nod my head with only a slight grimace before I asked the question that burned me the most. "Are you guys really okay with me being a little? Because I know it's a lot and it's fine if you hate me and my last partner left because of it and-" I was cut off just as my eyes began to fill with tears again.
"Of course, we're okay with it. We just don't know that much about it yet and need to learn." Finn told me softly.
Dominik nodded along, "Yeah, we all love you no matter what. But, first things first, we need to take you shopping."
"I don't have any clothes I like to go out in," I spoke, my voice muffled slightly due to my face being pressed against Maengho. I was a bit taken aback and overwhelmed by the amount of utter love and acceptance they were just immediately showing me.
"That's okay, Love. Do you wanna borrow some of mine?" Rhea asked me. She was crouched in front of me, with one of her hands rubbing my knee soothingly. I perked up at this, my head shooting up to meet her gaze and nodding enthusiastically. She laughed slightly as she stood up and then held out her hand to pull me up as well.
I loved wearing Rhea's clothes any chance I got because not only did they just look cool but they actually fit for the most part, unlike the boys' clothes. And they smelled like her.
Borrowing just a pair of her sweats, I paired it with an old Muppets t-shirt that I had.
After I had finished changing, Damian gave me a piggy-back ride downstairs, having me take a seat on the second to last step of stairs as he put my shoes on for me.
I giggled and kissed Maengho goodbye, not wanting him to get covered in Walmart germs before grabbing Damian's hand and skipping out to Rhea's truck.
I sat in my usual seat, the middle in the second row with Damian and Finn on either side as Rhea drove and Dom rode shotgun.
Once we got there, Dominik, ever the gentleman, helped me up into the cart so I could sit in it as they pushed me around, following my points and vague gestures toward the things that I wanted.
They got me cookies and cream ice cream, paired with gummy bears of course, along with dinosaur chicken nuggets that I had to promise to share with Dom. Rhea had even snuck off at one point to surprise me with bubbles for the bath.
We picked up some other snacks and stuff for me to have when in little space before making our way back home.
Upon returning home, I changed back into my princess nightgown before giving my partners puppy dog eyes for ice cream, to which they eagerly obliged, just wanting to make me happy.
So, happily, I ate my ice cream, doing wiggly happy dances in my seat as my feet swung back and forth beneath me.
When we had been looking at new furniture for the house, my partners had thought it hilarious to get dining room chairs just tall enough that my feet couldn't reach the floor.
My partners watched on from their own seats at the table, each of them with a smile on their face. They were all so different from my last partner it was insane.
There were still conversations to be had but for now, everything was perfect.
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AITA for causing a fight with my friend about racist/uncomfortable comments?
For context, my biological father was Lebanese. I have never met him, I don't know who he is, and I know very little about him. I don't consider myself Lebanese or half-Lebanese or Arab or Middle Eastern or anything. I'm white. I look white, I have two white parents and two white siblings, and I was raised in a predominantly white town. I have no connection to the culture whatsoever, except this guy that fucked my mom one time. I think it'd be incorrect and probably inconsiderate to call myself Lebanese because It's never been a part of my identity. I didn't even know about it until later in my life.
Anyway, I have these two friends, Rachel and Lucy (not their real names). Lucy has been my friend for a long time and I'm probably closer to her than anyone else. I've known Rachel for about a year, we're pretty good friends, but most of our interactions have been because we were both invited to the same place.
I was at a social gathering, talking to both of them, when Rachel made a random comment about how I "look a little bit Asian". I was very alarmed by this, but Lucy seemed not to mind it. She responded with the information I mentioned in the first paragraph (we've talked about my biological father before, so she knew this information) and Rachel said "so you're black?" I told her that is extremely incorrect and that I'd rather we drop the topic, but she kept making jokes about it, asking if I was allowed to say the n-word. I tried to quietly leave the situation, but she kept bringing it up, and stepping towards me the more I tried to leave. Eventually, I blew up on her, calling her a racist and said that I can't even fathom why she thought saying any of that was okay. I also yelled at Lucy for excusing this behavior. My outburst caused a scene, and all three of us left the party thoroughly embarrassed.
I know that Rachel is the asshole for saying those things, but I might have been the asshole for how I acted about it. Both Lucy and Rachel are refusing to talk to me, and Lucy sent me a number of texts the night after saying I should apologize to her and Rachel. Am I in the wrong for yelling at them and causing a big scene?
What are these acronyms?
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blixssily · 1 month
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"i love you, it's ruining my life."
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| being bailed out by your ex is sure to bring back lingering feelings, no?
| dazai osamu x reader
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˓ ꒱ notes and disclaimers: pm!reader and ada!dazai. dazai is reader's ex lover from the port mafia. gn reader. reader and dazai are both in their 20s. incorrect jail description. not proof read, apologies for any grammatical mistakes! might be incredibly ooc and might contain wrong information about the port mafia, apologies for both.
˓ ꒱ authors notes: in light of taylor swift's new album coming out, i'm trying my hand at writing for dazai!! i'm bad at writing angst so please bare with me. :(
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the cold metal confinements are tight around wrists, the officers must've cuffed you a tiny bit too tightly you think. the blank grey walls of your prison are as uninspiring as your thoughts, you can't even find it in yourself to even try to escape from jail. to the majority of the members in the Port Mafia, crime was almost always a guarantee during missions. treading the lines of the law was a common thing, most missions included breaking those precious regulations. it was almost like the law had just become mere suggestions, guidance that you could choose to follow or not.
and sadly for you, the hands of the law had finally caught up with you this time, confining you into a bland concrete box. you were currently sitting on the bed that came with every little cell. not even sitting on it was comfortable, much less laying down on it. despite how uncomfortable the bed was, it would be quiet a pathetic sight for a Port Mafia executive to be sitting on the floor and just staring at the wall so you decided against it.
normally whenever you were unlucky enough to have been caught by the law, someone from the Port Mafia would bail you out, namely Mori or maybe some other executive. you weren't too surprised when an officer informed you that you had been bailed out, preparing your usual apology and to listen through a few lectures from whoever bailed you out on to be more careful during missions.
you're escorted out of your little concrete box, you wonder if the officer is going to remove the hand cuffs around your wrists. you follow the officer down the prison hallway, thankful to not be sitting on that god awful bed that you could've sworn was just a rock with a blanket draped over it. you're expecting to be met with a very displeased boss, preparing your apology for your clumsiness in being caught when.. you don't see him at all. in fact, you see someone you thought you'd never see again.
he looks.. different. he's grown taller, you're sure of it. he's been ridden of his usual black trench coat you always saw him in, his right eye and cheek no longer being covered by the fabric of gauze. instead, he's wearing a tan trench coat now, a bolo tie replacing his usual tie when he was in the Port Mafia. his hair messy and curly, not that it was ever neat, god no. you stare at the absence of bandages around his right eye and cheek, revealing his complete face and you can't help but mentally kick yourself for staring a little longer than necessary.
and suddenly, you become hyper aware of the sinking feeling in your stomach. it makes you sick to look at him, sick that your brain subconsciously forces you to relive your shared memories together. you avert your gaze down to the grey grounds of the prison lobby, unable to meet his gaze without glaring bitterly at him. your ex had apparently bailed you out of jail. your ex boyfriend from years ago when you both were in the Port Mafia. a cocky little smirk adorned his features, maybe he hasn't changed that much in some ways.
you find it in yourself to look up at him, emotions brewing behind your eyes. anger, confusion.. mostly anger, and yet you find it in your heart to feel relief at that fact that he's alright. that's he's not harmed. he had up and left without a word, not even a goodbye to you. you worried for him days on end, calling and texting but to no avail which ended up in you just calling it a breakup, calling him your ex boyfriend. despite the relief, it's minuscule in terms of your anger towards the man you once loved. you glare at him, glare at his stupid cocky smirk and how he seems like he doesn't even care about the history between you two. it's like nothing ever happened between the both of you.
"you're the one who bailed me out? what is this, some sick game you've decided to play?" you scoff at him, there was no way he just.. decided to bail out a Port Mafia executive out of the goodness of his heart, no.. no no no. that couldn't be true. "shame, not even a thank you?" you roll your eyes at his feigned sigh of disappointment. an officer releases your wrists from the metal confinements, red mark were already formed on your wrist. you bring your hands to your wrists, trying to soothe your irritated skin from how tight the hand cuffs were. you don't realise the look in his eyes, the slight change in his expression when he noticed the marks on your wrists. he doesn't like seeing you hurt, he absolutely hates seeing you in pain even if it's a mere scratch or.. in this situation, marks from a police officer's hand cuffs.
"come on now, the least you could do is thank me." he says with another cocky smile, you wish you could just slap it off his face but something tells you that he wouldn't exactly be ecstatic with you slapping his face in a police station.
"what do you want?" you snapped, not in any mood to be dealing with his teasing words accompanied by his usual shit-eating grin. he couldn't have bailed you out for fun, or for some sentimental reason. he wanted something, there was also a price when it came to him. "ah, how harsh! you're breaking my heart here.." the asshole has the gull to even jokingly suggest something like that.
"nothing much, really. just thought i'd help out an old friend." he hums, and you don't know if his words only spark a new flame of anger inside of you or if it wrenches your heart. the fact that he would consider you an "old friend", when you were his literal partner when you both were teenagers.
"an old friend? be a man you asshole, own up to who you broke up with." he doesn't answer, as expected. you're not sure whether you'd even prefer a response from him or just silence.
"let's talk, hm? maybe somewhere else?" he suggests after some time, calmly putting his hands into the pockets of his tan coat. you notice the slight change in expression in his face, you've spent years trying to practically decode this man and it only added to his amusement when you both were teenagers. now, you're thankful you took the time to observe him. you don't know exactly what he wants to talk about but, you know it's something serious.
"fine." you begrudgingly agree to him, sighing as you notice him leaving without another word and you know that's your queue to follow him. you don't know what you were expecting from the bandaged man, but he leads you to a little café. you raise an eyebrow at him when you two reach the front door, not exactly expecting him to take you to a cute little café that sells pastries and drinks. he meets your suspicions gaze with an innocent smile, urging you to step inside before him. what a gentleman. you step inside the humble establishment, greeted with a friendly smile by the cashier before settling into a seat near the back. he sits opposite you, it's almost as if he's treating this like you're his friend and you both are just going for lunch.
"so? you never answered my question." you reminded him, crossing your arms as you lean back on the plush backing of the seats. "what do you want, dazai." it hurts him the way you say his name, his surname. you never did that when you both were together, he liked being addressed as 'osamu' or 'samu' by you, it feels like salt being rubbed into the wound when you call him by his surname.
"oh? i'm deciding whether to get the latte or..." he trails off, noticing the most unamused expression ever on your face. he chuckles at the sight, shaking his head. "i'm only joking." he hums, stopping his little act at looking at the menu on the table. "i.. wanted to see how you were doing, is all." he shrugs, not really having a good explanation for bringing you to this cafe or hell, even bailing you out of jail. "i mean no harm by doing any of this, truly." he adds on before you get to question him, knowing what you were just about to ask him.
did he really mean that? that he wanted to just.. talk? you don't know what you should reply with, as a Port Mafia executive you should've killed him by now for being a traitor, but as his ex.. you're not sure what to feel. truthfully, sure you were pissed off at him for leaving without a word but you just couldn't find it in yourself to hate the man.
"fine, one hour."
"oh come on, two?" he pouts childishly, a sight you hadn't seen for awhile.
"one hour and a half. make it quick." you relent once again, it seemed like he still had the ability to make you soften up to him.
and so with that, you two proceed to awkwardly choose out your drinks for the time being while at the café and try your hands at small talk. it was.. incredibly awkward between the both of you, undoubtedly it was a little weird to even talk about work since well.. him being a Detective at the ADA and with you being a Port Mafia executive, what was there to talk about? it's weird to be so stiff with someone you used to be so comfortable with, you used to be able to talk about anything when you were younger but now it's just.. not the same.
while you two were talking, your phone screen lit up. some message from another Port Mafia member came up, said something about it being urgent. "i.. have to go, it's important." you looked up from your phone to face him, rolling your eyes at the tiny little pout that graced his lips. "a shame, maybe next time?" he suggests, hoping to have another time to talk with you again. you get the feel he misses you dearly.
"maybe." you shrug, standing up from your seat. you slid a napkin over to him, pointing to the corner of your mouth to signal to him that he had something on his. he mutters a small 'thank you', a tiny bit embarrassed that he might indeed have something on the corner of his mouth. as you leave, he uses his phone to check his appearance and.. there wasn't anything there? he thinks it might just be a silly little prank on your end to tease him after so long, he mindlessly flips the napkin in his hands as he puts his phone down.
in the corner of his eye, he noticed some.. writing on the napkin. your... number? you had changed your phone number some time after he left and now, you had given him your current one! it meant that you at least weren't that mad at him after so long, and that you at least wanted to stay in contact with him.
he decides to text you, just in case you decide to change your mind in the mean time of your separation.
your phone lights up as you made your way down the street.
[unknown number, 3:46 p.m ➜ you] "same place, friday?"
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etheries1015 · 6 months
Note
Sorry, I overread it (It's currently 10pm where I live, I've been up since 4am, and my anxiety is kicking. Requesting things from people I never requested before is hard >.<)
May I request Riddle, Kalim, Idia and Malleus reacting to finding out their crush is trans-masc? Either by reader telling them or them finding out by accident
Never apologize for asking questions and sending asks! Please take care of yourself, get lots of rest, water, and sustenance <3
Finding out you're trans-masc
Featuring: Riddle, Kalim, Idia, Malleus
WARNINGS (please read): I'm a cis woman and I CANNOT stress enough that I may not be able to portray this as well as someone who actually identifies as such! I did do research ahead of time to make sure I try my very best to capture the essence of someone who identifies as trans-masc, but everyone's experiences are different. If I, in ANY way shape, or form, used incorrect terminology/representation or mistakenly offended anyone, please educate me so that I become more knowledgeable and can build my understanding. Other than that, I hope I did well in writing this for you to enjoy <3 Thank you for your time and for the request <3
Riddle
The topic came up during the first time you had gone to an Unbirthday party. Being misgendered by Riddle, you spoke up gently to inform him of your disposition.
"I'm...well, I don't use She/her pronouns." You shrugged. Riddle pursed his lips in frustration at his own confusion, he hadn't met someone falling under the LGBTQ umbrella before, he was incredibly sheltered and closed-minded for a long time due to his mother's teachings.
"I see..." Riddle nodded, "Then, please explain it to me so that I may not make the same mistake twice." He was eager to learn more about people and their experiences, especially learning about someone he found himself becoming more and more attached to.
Spends an entire night reading upon such topics- he was very quick to adapt and correct people around you whenever he found they did not address you properly.
"Does it bother you?" You had asked him once out of pure curiosity, and his response was with furrowed eyebrows and confusion.
"And why should it? It does not matter what you identify as. You are still (y/n). You are not your gender, and not your sex. You are..." He blushed deeply, you smiling to urge him on. You knew about his crush on you, of course, yet he seemed to be far too shy to admit it yet.
"You're..." He hesitated, "failing this class. G-get back to studying! quit getting distracted with silly questions or it's off with your head!"
You loved seeing him open his mind to many different concepts and treat you no differently than anyone else (minus some favoritism, hehe <3)
Kalim
It was actually Jamil who brought it up in conversation. The topic of "LGBTQ" came up, of course, Kalim understood the basics of people who identified as gay, however when the term "trans-masc" came up in regards to you, he was incredibly eager to learn more.
"Trans-masc? I thought they were (y/n)?"
"Kalim- no-"
It didn't take long for him to easily come around to the new terminology. You maybe gave him a 10 minute crash course before he accepted it face value.
"I see...so one day you're going to be by my side not as a queen, but as my royal spouse!" You were flabbergasted at his brazen comment. With a red face, you hadn't time to react before his hands were already around you in a deep hug.
"Haha! Oh, right! The pop club has a new song, wanna listen to it?"
He loves you no matter what. The most understanding and unconditionally in love person to exist, the definition of sunshine
Might overshare sometimes. He will bring it up sometimes to other people (if they misgender you) and give THEM a crash course on it! You love that he is so passionate about you, though. xoxo
Idia
He knew. He is chronically online, he knows all about it. When he first met you, he even asked what your preferred pronouns were.
I don't really know what else to say for Idia, he honestly doesn't care who you identify as. You play video games with him and give him love, that's enough for him!!
Can take it incredibly seriously If someone misgenders you or tries to bully you about your identity, his hair turns a fiery red and he turns gives them a whole one hour lesson while belittling that person calling them as intelligent as a soggy piece of bread.
The other person is crying by the end of it, but honestly nobody deserves to be treated disrespectfully like that.
actually how he confessed his crush to you, lol. In a fit of rage to someone who wasn't being very kind... "How dare you treat the one I love like that, you stupid normie piece of-" Realizes his mistake, face turns red, turns to you (whos face is also red)
"ummm.....Nevermind!" He runs away, but there was no getting away from you heuheu
even though he can be shy and kind of tsundere in public, he can be really passionate and will defend you at a moments notice and educate other people who are, as he puts, less than him.
In private? Sitting in his lap playing video games
Malleus
Actually, learned this from Idia. It was during class when the topic of LGBTQ came up, and when speaking among the students he over heard Idia telling ortho about your disposition as trans-masc.
Immediately came to you
"Child of man, what is 'trans-masc' and why did Idia use this term to describe you? Could you elaborate?" You two decided to take a stroll around the forest where you spent hours talking about all sorts of different people and the terms they used, explaining to him about dysphoria and how you discovered that the pronouns you were born with just didn't sit right with you.
Nods in understanding, but ends up purchasing a bunch of books Idia and Lilia recommended to him to increase his understanding.
Even though there are indeed things he will never be able to sympathize with properly and understand, such as the effects of dysphoria, but he will respect you full heartedly and not treat you any different despite still growing to learn about such topics.
All in all, it does not matter what you identify as. He finds himself completely enamored with you, loving how you teach him new things about anything and everything with humans- he will treat you the same as you treat him- impartial due to status, class, gender, pronouns, human or fae. He knew you were the one he wanted to rule Briar Valley next to one day- as his lovely spouse.
~~
I hope I was able to answer your request satisfyingly <3 Please let me know if anything needs to be changed and I shall update accordingly, I myself am always learning and growing every day! Please be kind <3
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thebiggerbear · 8 days
Text
Close Enough - Russell Shaw x Reader
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Summary: When you'd met the Shaws at the morgue the day before, you thought that had been the end of it and you wouldn't need to see one Shaw brother in particular again. Little did you know that Colter was about to once again ask for your help and not only would you be forced to see Russell again but things were about to change drastically for the both of you.
Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader; Russell Shaw x Female!FBI Special Agent!Reader
A/N: Sequel to So Close. I wanted to follow up and reveal what happened between Russell and the reader in the past but as I was writing it, this idea popped into my head in addition to that and I just had to see where it went. This was the end result lol. Hope it's okay.
Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I still have not seen Tracker (besides 1x12) because I just haven't had the time for a proper binge yet so if I got some things wrong about Colter and his experience in the show, I apologize.
Also, I always like to throw the disclaimer out there anytime I write something related to the universe of law enforcement: I have never worked in law enforcement so I tried to piece together things I’ve seen and heard in true crime documentaries and podcasts alongside with movies/tv and books. I apologize for any inconsistencies, incorrect information, exaggerations, or complete fallacies. Basically, I made shit up.
Songs I listened to while writing: Somebody That I Used to Know by Gotye; Easy Living by Loretta Lynn & Conway Twitty; Sweet Dreams by Patsy Cline; Sounds of Someday by Radio Company
Warnings: sanctioned assassination; death; gun violence; violence/blood mention; mention of dead bodies; arson; implied sex; a very, very tiny amount of smut(ish); language (I guess?)
Word Count: 16K+
Russell Taglist: @deangirl96 (I hope you don't mind me tagging you in this one; this is going to lead into the series that I mentioned); @avada-kedavra-bitch-187
Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
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Please do not do any of the above. Thank you for your understanding.
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Your phone started to buzz and you glanced at the screen, rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh before picking up. That wasn’t the normal reaction you would have to seeing Colter’s name pop up on your phone but ever since that mess back at the morgue yesterday, you had been hoping he wouldn’t contact you again. At least not until his brother went back to whatever hole he’d crawled out of. But now it looked like that had been a fool’s hope, on both counts.
“You what?” You hissed.
“We’re about to head to this home in the Blue Ridge Mountains and go in to get Doug,” he repeated.
“I’m sorry, an incredible amount of stupid just sounded in my ear. Can you repeat that?”
“Reenie got me the location and it’s solid intel.” He lowered his voice. “Look, I thought we should get law enforcement involved, alright? But there’s a…valid reason why Russ doesn’t want to call them that I can’t get into right now.”
“Whoops, more stupid. One more time?”
Colter groaned into the phone. “Come on, Y/N.”
“I’m serious, Colter. What the hell are either of you think—wait, scratch that. What the hell are you thinking? Going into a dangerous location like that without any backup? If Carlos Solano found your missing man in a safehouse, do you think he won’t be armed to the teeth? That he won’t have guards patrolling the compound that you’re walking right into? That he won’t see something like this coming? You guys are walking right into a shitstorm.” Christ, you loved the guy like a long-lost brother that you sometimes kept in touch with but if he were in front of you right now, you would’ve delivered one good smack to the back of his head to get him thinking straight. Colter may know his way around a gun, but he wasn’t someone who had formal training or combat experience like Russell did. He didn’t even have your training and you wouldn’t be going in there kamikaze-style like they were.
“That’s why I’m calling you and asking you to meet us there. I’m not exactly calling in law enforcement but we’ll have one more person to watch our backs and help us search for Doug. And who better than a special agent with the FBI?”
You sat back in your chair, shaking your head but thinking it over. This was beyond stupid and you shouldn’t be encouraging it. Russell’s involvement in this idiot plan didn’t surprise you; Colter’s did. He knew better. But you also knew that if he thought he had a chance to get the missing guy back home safely, he was going to take it, no matter the personal risk. If you didn’t go like he asked and anything happened to him or Russell, you’d never forgive yourself.
“Please?” 
You pinched the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger, your decision made. “Send me the location and I’ll leave now to meet you.”
“Thank you.” You could hear the genuine gratitude in his tone. “I promise I’ll explain everything.”
“You better,” you nearly growled before disconnecting the call. You had a feeling you knew what he was going to tell you but for his sake, you hoped it wasn’t anything close to what you were thinking. But why else would Russell not want to call law enforcement for help in rescuing his friend who had been taken hostage by a foreign criminal? God, you hoped you were wrong.
You let out another loud sigh and before you could stand, your phone started ringing again. When you glanced at the screen, instead of a name, you saw “Blocked”. Not good.
You swiped green, holding it to your ear. “Y/L/N.”
“We have a problem,” said the voice on the other end, one you knew all too well, and it didn't sound happy. Shit.
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You watched as Colter’s truck pulled up alongside your car. Colter got out and noticed you leaning against your trunk, arms crossed and a scowl in place. Russell came around from the other side. 
“Either of you boys see two suicidal idiots around here? Oh, wait.”
Russell’s jaw tightened. “It wasn’t my idea to call you.” He slid a glare over to his brother. 
“You’re lucky he did,” you snapped. “And since I’m here,” You got to your feet and turned to open your trunk, revealing a smorgasbord of gear and weapons. “We’re going to be doing this my way.” You held out a bulletproof vest to Colter first and he immediately started to strap it on. You held one out to Russell but he shook his head and didn’t take it. You glanced over to find he had already put his own on while you’d been grabbing one for his brother.
“Okay, look,” Russell started, his eyes scanning your makeshift armory and setting your teeth on edge. “This isn’t some FBI raid of some drug gang. This guy, Carlos Solano, he’s the real deal. He’s as dangerous as they come.”
You could feel your irritation turning into anger at the suggestion that you didn’t know how serious this was, and from him of all people. “And what am I? Some part-time mall security guard? A receptionist at the Academy? I’ve dealt with cartels before and they’re as dangerous as they come, too. So take that mansplaining and shove it right up where the sun doesn't shine.”
Russell took a step closer and laid a hand on your shoulder, his eyes burning into you. “Be pissed at me all you want but I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“But you’re okay with your brother getting hurt?” You briefly glanced in Colter’s direction. The younger man was watching you two carefully as he adjusted his vest one last time, wisely choosing to stay out of this one. 
Russell’s jaw clenched and he dropped his hand. “I’ve got him.”
You snorted and grabbed a gun, loading it quickly. “And I’ve got both of you. Now, we’ve got a bit of a hike so let’s cut the chit chat and get this over with, shall we?” You motioned for Colter to turn around and you inserted an extra handgun into the back of his belt. “We stick together as a unit. You hear me? No wandering off alone.”
Colter faced you again. “Yes, Mom,” he teased.
You swatted at his shoulder before checking the fit of his vest, nodding in approval.
“I have done this before, you know.”
You knew that already. You’d been there with him a couple of times for such instances. “Good for you,” you quipped. “But for kicks, how about you just humor me?”
He rolled his eyes and you smirked, turning to slam the trunk shut. You glanced up to find Russell watching you, his jaw still tight but his eyes containing a familiar light that you hadn’t seen in a while. “You good?”
“Yep.” And just like that, the light hollowed out, replaced by something far colder yet familiar, but not because you’d seen it in his gaze. You’d seen it often enough in your own when looking into the mirror. 
Pushing that thought away and shifting focus, you began to lead the way into the trees. “Alright, let’s do this and get Doug home in time for breakfast.” Colter flanked you on your right while Russell came up on your left. 
“Let’s rock and roll,” he agreed. 
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It hadn’t been as bad as you’d been expecting, even after you’d received the intel Colter had referred to on the phone. One guard and three henchmen. You were annoyed and almost insulted that they had presented so little a challenge considering Carlos Solano was supposed to be this big bad criminal. But when you glanced over and saw Colter looking over Russell’s bloody jacket sleeve, you regretted the thought and gratitude immediately filled you that things hadn’t been worse. Russell had taken a bullet to the arm and thankfully, it had passed right through. 
Before you could shoot the bastard that shot him, Colter and Russell were on it. You watched in awe as the brothers moved as a single unit, almost as if they hadn’t been strained or missed a beat over the years. You supposed you should be happy that they were working together rather than still arguing over shit from a lifetime ago that had torn their family apart. For Colter’s sake at least.
Just then, you heard what sounded like a small plane outside. You hurried to a window and glanced outside, seeing a rapidly descending charter plane aiming for the tiny landing strip in the back of the property. Right on time.
You let the curtain fall and looked back at the guys. “Time to go.”
Doug’s face was ashen while Colter and Russell exchanged glances. Immediately, Russell picked up his gun and got ready to leave the room.
You rushed to stop him. “There will be none of that!” 
“You guys get Doug back to the truck. I’ll handle this.”
You practically jogged around him, planting yourself in his path. “Not happening.”
He glared down at you. “Y/N, I need to close this up. Move.”
You scowled right back. “You’ve been shot.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I have to finish this.”
You refused to budge. “You are not finishing anything. You’re getting the hell out of here, that’s what you’re doing.” 
“Y/N—”
“Guys, not the time,” Colter interceded. “He’s getting off that plane any second now, so what’s the plan?”
“She’s right, man,” Doug added, making both of your gazes snap over at him. “We really need to go.”
Voices suddenly sounded outside and you all glanced towards the window.
“Shit,” you muttered, quickly checking the chamber on your gun. As you were about to head out of the room, a hand grasped gently under your chin and forced your eyes to meet Russell’s. You could see the pleading there but also a stone-cold resignation. “Go with Colter and Doug,” he urged, giving you a brief but strained smile. “I need you to go.” You felt the rough skin of his thumb on your cheek as he moved it tenderly back and forth.
You knew what he was really telling you, what he planned to do, but hell if you weren’t more infuriated with him. You were so sick of the self-sacrificial bullshit. Hadn’t it cost you enough? Cost you both?
You pulled away from him, giving him a glare. “I don’t think you understand,” you said in a tone so cold you were pretty sure you could give the winds in Antarctica a run for their money. “I’m taking Solano in and I am not leaving until I have my suspect alive and in custody.” Russell looked pissed but you couldn’t care less. Better than him being dead in the next two minutes.
You turned to face Colter and Doug so they also got the message. “This case is under Federal jurisdiction now.” Colter glanced between you and his brother who you turned back to face. “I’m bringing him in. Got it?”
Russell went to say something but didn’t get the chance. The sounds of gunfire erupted right outside the room and you all had to duck for cover. 
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You secured your handcuffs around Carlos Solano’s wrists that had been forced behind his back once you shoved him into the chair in the room, purposely tightening the metal bracelets past the point of comfort. The man reacted, cursing you out as you smirked up at him. 
Getting to your feet, you focused on the Shaws and Doug. Russell watched you with a glare while Colter waited for you to speak. Doug looked downright terrified. They had helped you to take down Solano’s men who had flown with him — all three of them. Russell aimed for Solano but at the last second, you got in his way and tackled the criminal to the ground. Needless to say, he wasn’t happy with you. Oh well. The feeling was mutual.
Colter placed his hands on his hips. “Alright, so how are we getting him back to the truck? Are we just going to drag him through the woods and hope we don’t come across anybody else he might have coming here? How are we going to work this?”
You slipped your gun back into your holster. “He doesn’t have anyone else coming here and the plan is that you three are going to head back to the truck and get out of here. I’m going to wait for a pickup,” You gestured towards the window with your thumb where the landing strip could be seen. “They’re nearby, waiting for my call, and they won’t take long to get here.” You shook your phone in your hand, indicating you were going to be using it.
Russell glanced around, as if expecting Agents to start popping up out of the woodworks at any second, before his eyes settled back on you. “So you called this in after all?”
You shrugged. “You were going into a fully armed compound to rescue a hostage, a two-man team against a crime lord on the FBI’s Most Wanted list? Yeah, of course, I did.”
He shook his head, chuckling and muttering a curse under his breath. “Of course you did,” he echoed, shooting a look over at his brother. 
Colter’s gaze flickered back to you. “We’ll wait with you until they get here.”
You offered up a small smile. “I appreciate it but not necessary. I’ve got this until they get here and I do the handover.”
“But—”
“Look, you should get Doug out of here.” You inclined your head in the direction of the man who was staring dazedly at the floor. “You need to get him checked out and your brother should get his arm looked at.”
“I’m fine,” Russell interjected.
You ignored him. “I’ll be alright, Colter. Believe it or not, you tend to get experience with this kind of thing once or twice before becoming a Special Agent.” You meant it as a light-hearted reassurance but you could tell that both Shaw brothers were going to be a hard sell. At least Colter’s reasoning was up front and above board.
“I’m sure but I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone. Not with him.” Colter gestured towards Solano who spit in his direction.
“I won’t be for long. But you guys need to get out of here. The Bureau can’t know you were involved in this.” You shot him a meaningful look. “For multiple reasons.”
The younger man looked as if he was going to protest again when you held up a hand. “Colter. You may not like it but you need to do as I’m telling you. If the Bureau finds any of you here…” You could tell that he didn’t care so much about himself but you let your eyes briefly flick in Russell’s direction, who was busy glaring at the man you had bound to the chair. You saw Colter’s expression immediately change and you knew you had succeeded in convincing him to vacate the area as soon as possible.
He nodded his head in assent. “Okay.” He laid a hand on Doug’s shoulder, prompting the man to look up at him, and urged him to start moving to the door.
“Okay? What do you mean okay?” Russell huffed.
Colter held up a hand. “Russell—”
“No.” Russell turned a glare on you. “Not okay. He’s a loose end that needs tying up. He knows who we are now, he came after Doug, and the FBI isn’t going to do shit with him.” You narrowed your eyes in a glare but he continued. “That’s not an insult. It’s the truth and you know it. They’re going to what? Get him to talk, to roll over on someone else he has connections to who’s higher up their food chain, and he gets off scot free? No, not happening on my watch.” 
He took a step forward and so did you, in front of Solano. You drew your gun but held it loosely across your waist, your finger on the trigger, ready and waiting should you need it. Russell stopped cold, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and the weapon in your hand. Colter and Doug were frozen, watching the scene unfold.
“I told you,” you said in the most deadly serious tone you could muster. “I’m taking him in, alive. If you have a problem with that, well…” You flipped the safety on the gun off. “You’ll have to go through me. And I promise you, my aim is a hell of a lot more accurate at close range than it’s ever been.”
Russell didn’t blink, he just kept scowling at you.
“Russ?” Colter called.
“Don’t make me kill you in front of him, Russell,” you murmured so only the two of you would hear. You were serious as a heart attack. No matter how you had felt about him once upon a time, this was important enough for you to make good on your threat if you needed to.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would and it will be justified by the higher ups as protection of a high-valued target before your body goes cold.” You hated saying the words but it was nothing but the truth that you spoke. You hoped he heard the message underneath your words: walk away, this isn’t worth dying over. “And he’ll be further traumatized,” you inclined your head in Colter’s direction. “Losing his brother right in front of him, just like he lost his dad.” You knew that was a severely low blow but he also needed to hear you. 
As expected, Russell’s jaw clenched and you saw a twitch in the good arm he had, the one that was holding his gun. “Don’t be stupid and do that to him,” you warned. “Walk away.”
That cold look was back in his eyes again. You mentally prepared yourself for what was about to go down. You had hoped he wouldn’t force your hand but then again, Russell Shaw had always been the epitome of stubborn, usually to his own detriment…and yours.   
“Russell?” Colter tried again.
“Russ, come on, man. Let it be for now,” Doug added in, trying to help. “And let’s regroup.”
This time, Russell appeared to hear them both, his gaze breaking from yours momentarily, flickering over Solano behind you, who was laughing and smirking in the former’s direction, clearly enjoying the standoff over him. 
Russell’s eyes met yours again but this time, there was nothing familiar about the green you used to stare into when he’d sway with you on the dance floor to a slow song playing overhead or when you’d both wear matching sated grins and laugh, a pleasant exhaustion overtaking you as he pulled you into his arms in a motel bed. It was almost like staring into a dark void and you couldn’t help but wonder how often that void showed up during war or if the war created it — the old chicken or the egg question. Either way, you knew you’d succeeded in convincing him to leave, but you’d also have to watch yourself. There was no warmth left in those jade-colored orbs when they focused on you. You’d done your work well; you’d crossed a line that you could never go back from.
“Alright,” he capitulated, loud enough that the two men near the doorway heard him. He relaxed his arm and slipped his gun into a pocket in his vest. His face lightened a little and a strained smile worked its way across his face. He glanced back at his brother. “She’s right. We should get Doug out of here.” He turned back to face you, his smile fading. “She’s got this.” He then glanced in Solano’s direction, smirking right back. “I’ll see you soon,” he promised, giving him a finger gun and winking, before his expression became stone once more and he walked away, glaring at you as he did.
You lifted your chin, not reacting in the slightest, until Solano shouted out, “You’ll be seeing me? No, puta, I’ll be seeing you. You’ll never see it coming, you hear me? You’ll never see it co—” You spun a few degrees and pistol-whipped him, causing the jackass to cry out in pain before you turned back to face Doug and the two most important men in your life. “Get going,” you growled out, lifting your phone with your other hand as a subtle threat.
Colter gave you a nod, the concern still there in his dark brown gaze as he led Doug out the door. Russell’s eyes never left you, even when he walked out the door a moment later, following his little brother’s lead. You never looked away even when he was past the threshold. 
You ignored Solano’s yelling threats and kept your eyes on the spot you had last seen the Shaws disappear through a few minutes longer than needed, tense and ready in case Russell decided to double back. Though you highly doubted he’d come at you from the same angle. A part of you was making sure you stayed prepared in case there was an ambush, yes, but another part of you knew your gaze was lingering on the spot because you knew things had now drastically changed between you and Russell forever. He would never forgive your threats and you would never forgive yourself for having to make them. Though that remorse was more related to Colter than his brother. Regardless, when it came to the Shaws now, you were fucked. Not even Dory would want to hear from you, not that she had all that much before, but now it was definitely a no go. And that saddened you tremendously.
Hearing more of Solano’s threats, you recentered your focus on the task at hand and prepared to wait, giving him one more pistol whip for good measure, before you settled in and kept both eyes and ears open for any possible ambush that might come your way before you could finish up here. 
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You leaned against the workstation next to the chair, waiting, gun still in hand and your eyes focused on it. You had waited a certain amount of time to allow the boys to get out of the area.
“The soldado was right, you know. They’re not going to hold me,” Solano bragged.
You briefly closed your eyes in annoyance. He had been talking ever since you were left alone with him. He had offered you money to let him go, offered you riches and power that you knew for a fact he had no business offering. He even had the nerve to propose making you one of his new lieutenants, citing your fighting skills and gun handling that he’d briefly witnessed. He knew you would be able to protect him because you had from the asesinos who had killed his brother. He then changed tactics, threatening you, your loved ones, the men who just left…now, he was boasting about how he would walk free and whatever charges were thrown at him wouldn’t stick. You just wished he would shut the hell up already. Needless to say, it had been a long twenty minutes. You now understood why his brother had been the businessman and he was only the muscle willing to do the dirty work. His bargaining skills were for shit, not that it mattered in the scheme of things. No deals were being made today.
“I offer them a little bit of money and they’ll just make the case go away. Just like that.”
You checked your watch. Twenty two minutes now. That was good enough. You slowly got to your feet and moved past him to look out the window. You had purposely moved his chair out of the sight of the glass, in case Russell got any ideas.
“That’s how it works here in America. Everybody knows that. If the criminals have money and power, they don’t stay in jail.”
You ignored him, glancing around to see if there was any movement outside. You didn’t see any. 
“They won’t keep me locked up. They weren’t able to in my home country. What makes you think they’ll be able to here? Where corruption is ripe and anyone can be bought? And then I’ll be coming for you and for your friends. You will wish for death long before I am through with you.”
You made your way to another window, lifting the curtain and looking around. Still nothing.
“There’s no point in bringing me to jail. It will never hold me.”
You lowered the curtain and squared your shoulders, turning to face his direction. You focused on him, staring right into his eyes. “You know, I think you’re right.”
Solano seemed pleasantly surprised for a moment, thinking you were finally stupid enough to take one of his offers, before his eyes narrowed with realization. “No, wait—”
You quickly lifted your gun and squeezed off a round. His head snapped back from the force and the space behind him was spattered with red among other things. One glance confirmed your aim had been accurate; he was dead. Right through the eye. What you’d said to Russell earlier hadn’t been an exaggeration; you were much more accurate at close range than you’d ever been.
You slipped a pair of gloves on that you pulled from your pants pocket and immediately started unzipping the small compartments on the side of your vest where you usually kept extra ammo in a raid, pulling out small white bottles that weren’t sporting any labels. You began to squirt the liquid from inside them all around the room, dousing Solano’s body with a healthy amount.
You continued into the house, having quite a few bottles of lighter fluid to empty out in specific areas that would help achieve your goal. Arson wasn’t your preferred route but it did get rid of pesky little things like hair and DNA, and what it didn’t, it contaminated which would make it harder for not only law enforcement but the justice system to work with. Though you weren’t too worried about either looking at this particular house fire too closely.
You didn’t bother collecting any bullet casings, knowing that your gun and the ones you’d given Colter to use would be untraceable even if they somehow managed to get a hold of any of the weapons (which they wouldn’t). And Russell’s gun…you figured he had that handled. The only thing you did collect were your handcuffs. 
You also didn’t bother staging anything for the scene. There was already enough evidence that pointed to the theory that Solano’s own men had turned on him and a gunfight ensued, resulting in the multiple dead bodies. While an arson specialist would most likely be able to tell that an accelerant had been used, there was no way for them to confirm just who had been present for this battle and who had gotten away. Satellite imagery would be shoddy at best due to the foliage cover (and eventual smoke) but still, you planned to set the fire and make your getaway out the back, crossing over the landing strip so if they went back to look for any heat signatures after the fire started, it would be one person leaving the scene alive, the person they would assume had started the blaze. There were no nearby neighbors to immediately call first responders but that didn’t mean smoke wouldn’t be seen from the sky from miles away or that a fiery orange blaze in the distance wouldn’t be noticed by residents of another vacation home or cars traveling the backroads in the area. Since you planned to go into the deep woods and take the long roundabout route back to your car, you weren’t too worried about your path being followed.
Once you had completed all of your tasks, you used the fireplace to help, moving the grate out of the way, starting a fire, and then knocking a fiery log onto the wooden flooring. You used a lighter to set flammable materials that you could find to add to the flames. Only when the room was nearly engulfed did you finally slip a beanie from your pocket, cover your head fully, and make your way out of the house. Once at the landing strip, you ducked under the plane, making sure you couldn’t be seen from above. 
You watched as the flames consumed the house. Once the smoke was sufficient, flames were ragings out of the windows, and the sound of breaking glass could be heard, you knew it was time for you to vacate the vicinity before the sirens started up. It was fortunate that most people were asleep at this hour but the sun was due to come up not too long from now and you had a long trek ahead of you, so you needed to get moving.
You kept your head down and made your way into the woods surrounding the property line. 
The sun was breaching the horizon and quickly warming the sky by the time you made it back to your car. You were relieved that Colter’s truck was gone and you needed to quickly make tracks as well. Sirens had started up an hour ago and you needed to get the hell out of Dodge before the cops were all over these roads. You tossed your weapons and vest into the trunk and got in the car. You slipped your beanie off your head, tossing it onto the seat next to you, and started the engine.
Just as you had expected, cops were everywhere but thankfully, you had timed it just right and gotten out before they could block all of the mountain roads. Once you were back in town a few hours later and a certain distance away, you pulled a phone out of your glove compartment you kept there for emergencies and turned it on. You pressed a button and it immediately dialed the number programmed — the only number you had saved on this device. 
It rang once before the same voice from yesterday picked up. “Is it done?”
“We’re clear,” you confirmed. “It’s been handled.”
“Shaw?”
Your jaw clenched. You knew that despite how you and Russell had left things earlier, you would do whatever it took to keep him breathing. “He’s a soldier. He follows orders.”
“He wasn’t so willing to follow orders in this situation.”
“You know what they’re taught. Leave no man behind. He got his man so he’ll be fine. Things can go back to how they were. He’s not going to be an issue and he’s clean, just like you wanted.”
And then you were asked the one question you didn’t want to hear. “And the brother? What’s your assessment?”
The knuckles of your free hand gripped your steering wheel so tightly that you could see how white your skin turned from the pressure. “Non-issue. He has no interest in you.”
“He seemed interested yesterday.”
You forced yourself to remain calm and nonchalant. “He’s paid to be nosy when someone goes missing so he can get them found. He found who he was looking for, he was able to keep the promise to the guy’s wife — it’s over for him. The case is closed, it’s as simple as that for him. He’s no threat.”
You waited to hear a response, holding your breath and your hand gripping the wheel even tighter, your body tensed. This would be what decided your fate. Either you would be allowed to go on as before or you’d be going on a mission up against one of the top private security contractor firms in the world which wouldn’t end well for you. But you’d take out whoever you could with you before you were killed.
Another moment passed before the voice replied, “Understood.”
Your body relaxed slightly and your shoulders sunk in relief. Colter was safe. Russell was safe…for now. And you didn’t have to go all Rambo Kamikaze on anyone. Win-win all around.
“I’ll let the higher ups know the situation has been contained. Good work. We’ll be in touch.”
Without waiting for a response from you, the call disconnected. You quickly shut the phone off and tossed it back into its original spot. You let out a deep breath and the exhaustion from the past twelve hours immediately overtook your body. Deciding that returning to your place was not an option for you right now, you headed to another part of town, parked your car on the street some blocks away to the nearest motel, and using a baseball cap to cover your hair along with sunglasses, you hoofed it and then booked a room, paying cash and using a fake name. Once you set up everything you needed to in your quarters, you slipped onto the mattress and got some much needed rest, keeping your gun under your pillow within reach should you need it.
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You pulled up to Colter’s trailer, watching as he stepped outside to greet you. You put your car in park, took a deep breath, and got out. You offered Colter a small smile. “Hey.”
He returned it. “Hey.”
You had been surprised when Colter called you a few days later to let you know he was still in town for a bit and invited you to drop by for a beer. Not surprised that he was still around (you already knew that) but surprised that he even wanted to speak to you. Perhaps Russell hadn’t told him what you’d threatened back in the mountains.
You took the beer he offered to you and followed him over to the firepit, taking a seat on one of the coolers. He sat nearby and held up his bottle in a toast. You mirrored him and then you both took a sip. You nearly sighed in satisfaction as the carbonated beverage slid down your throat. You enjoyed the taste and checked the label. “Mmm, home brew…not bad. You got something you want to tell me? Planning on opening some sort of brewery outfit anytime soon?” You were teasing but if Colter really was thinking of doing something else — anything else — instead of his current job, you’d fully support it.
“Not me.” Disappointment flared in your chest, your hope dashed. “Russ was actually the one who made it. I had some left over from the other night.”
The beer suddenly began to sour in your stomach. Well, you supposed it was good that Russell was starting to think of the future, the most important part of that being that there would be one. It still burned a bit, though.
You decided to change the subject so you wouldn’t have to think about that right then. “So, your guy is back home safe?”
Colter nodded. “Dropped him off myself.” Something else you already knew but you had to keep up appearances.
You nodded, biting your lip and staring into the flames. “And your brother?”
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Colter’s jaw tense for a moment. “Gone.” Though you had an idea that was the case, Colter’s confirmation still stung, like someone poking a finger into an old wound after ripping the scar tissue away. But what else had you expected? This was Russell Shaw you two were talking about after all.
You snorted and shook your head, taking another swig of beer. “Of course he is.”
He turned to look at you. “You know, you never told me what happened between you two.”
You shrugged a shoulder. “Not worth going into, trust me.”
Thankfully, Colter left it alone and he rolled with it when you brought up a different topic instead. 
“So, how much longer are you here for?”
“Teddi and Velma are working on that right now actually. Hopefully, something pops up soon.” He took another sip of beer, turning to gaze at the flames as well.
“It will.” Fortunately for him and sadly for others, someone would always go missing.
“How about you? Are they sending you somewhere for a new case or are they going to let you stay local for a bit? If it’s the latter, maybe you could get a dog for that place of yours?”
You smirked and ran your thumb down the smooth glass of the brown bottle in your hand. Colter kept teasing you about the residence you maintained nearby considering you were never really there most of the time. He’d then extoll the virtues of living on the open road, not having roots put down anywhere that would grow into expectations, and the unrestrained thrill of it all. The first time you’d had that conversation, you knew then that the desire to keep moving and stay unburdened must be a male Shaw thing. Dory seemed happy where she had settled and you — you wanted a home base. Some place you could come back to where you were still able to connect to yourself again, no matter how lost at sea you might be at times, no matter how much you felt as if every single piece of you was floating away on the wind until only a monster was left standing there, staring back at you in the rearview mirror of your car.
“Right now, I have a few things I need to close up,” you lied. “Then I’ll probably get sent out in the field again to work some cases.” You hated lying to him but you had no choice. His safety came first. As much as you had hated Russell for a time, you could now appreciate the difficult position he was in. Though, he had chosen to be put there, and now, so had you. 
You watched Colter nod, accepting your answer. “I still think a German Shepherd would be a great choice for you,” he teased. “You know, a big dog, trainable, would make a good guard dog. You could take it with you, chase suspects down together...”
“Oh yeah, I could see it now,” you played along. “I’d have to sneak him into hotel rooms, make sure he doesn’t take a shit on the rug… Then we’d go on the job and I could introduce him to everyone, ‘I’m Special Agent Y/L/N but you can call me Turner and this is my partner Hooch.’”
Colter winced. “No, no. You have to give him a name that will strike fear into the hearts of the criminals you track down. Like General or Commando or Killer. Killer! Now that’s a good name. That will make anyone think twice about running from a dog with that name.”
This time, you were the one who winced though you hid it well. Instead, you forced out a laugh. “I am not getting a huge dog named Killer and bringing him to work with me.”
He grinned. “That’s a shame. I would have loved to have seen the look on your face when the dog would sit in the front seat.”
“There would be no front seat sitting. Back seat only.”
“Like a criminal who he just helped you to arrest? That’s cold, even for you.”
“I am so glad that you have this imaginary dog of mine’s back.”
He snickered and took a drink, looking back at the flames. Your smile slowly faded as you did the same. You both sat there, drinking in a companionable silence for a bit.
Eventually, your eyes flickered over towards him. “I need you to promise me something.”
His brows drew together questioningly when he met your gaze.
“Horizon…” You noticed him tense slightly at the mention. “No more.” When you saw the confusion in his expression, you elaborated. “No more digging, no more Reenie asking her contacts about them, no more mention of them period. You got the guy you were looking for. Now, put it to bed and forget that you ever knew they existed.”
His confusion increased. “I did put it to bed the second I dropped Doug off at his door and saw him hug his wife.”
You gave him a look. “Col, I need you to promise me,” you softly entreated. 
His brows arched slightly at the use of the nickname; you didn’t use it often and if you were, then he knew you meant business. He also knew what you were telling him without explicitly saying it; Horizon was dangerous and they were better left alone. It would be better for him to get a case of sudden amnesia about anything related to the organization.
He watched you for a moment before giving you a nod. “As long as nobody else goes missing like Doug did and as long as Russ is okay, they’re forgotten.”
You knew that was the best you were going to get from him and you leaned forward slightly. “And if anything happens to Russ, I’ll be right there with you, knocking on their front door,” you promised. And you would be; no question about it.
The corner of his lips tipped up in the beginning of a smile and after a moment, you couldn’t help but return it. 
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The coffee shop you were in was decently quiet considering it was around 8:55 in the morning and most people were making their last minute dashes for caffeine before the working day began. You sat near the window, facing the entrance so you could keep an eye on who came in and out. You had ordered your usual, a soy vanilla latte, and you carefully sipped at the hot liquid. You scanned your phone for the day’s headlines, looking for any updates on the mysterious house fire that started in the mountains a few nights ago.  
You knew you wouldn’t find any and sure enough, you didn’t. Someone was working overtime to squash the case from up above, just like you knew they would. You also knew that some local law enforcement officials didn’t buy the criminals-turning-on-their-boss theory and they actually thought the scene looked like a professional hit. Exactly what you figured would happen when accelerants had been found to be used at the scene. As much as you were sure the cops were looking to sink their teeth into something exciting to happen in those parts in however long, the bottom line was the case would get dropped and no one was going to care what happened to a violent criminal like Carlos Solano. The FBI would actually be relieved to remove one more name from their list, one more file from their desks. One more dangerous bad guy removed from the world that threatened American citizens as well as national security. No one was going to miss the murderous bastard.
You powered down your screen and placed your phone on the table, turning to glance out the window. That was when you saw him. Well, the reflection of him. 
You watched as he walked towards you, still dressed in a ratty pair of jeans and old boots, wearing another t-shirt with a different musician on it while sporting an open button-up over it, and donning that old military style jacket. His eyes were intent on you and you had to wonder how he had gotten in without you seeing him. The answer was in the reflection of someone walking past him to get to the bathrooms in the rear of the cafe. There was no exit located near there, you knew that because this was a local spot of yours, so how did he… Shit.
Even though you watched him in the glass and he watched you back, you didn’t give anything away to alert him that you knew he was there. You started calculating in your head how many people stood in between you and the front door (your only exit at this point), how much force you would have to use to catch him off guard and knock him to the ground so you could make your escape, and how fast you would have to run to your car. You even had a moment to debate drawing your gun and your badge, and making a scene to get yourself out of this mess. But all of that proved to be for naught when he came to a stop near you and announced his presence by asking, “This seat taken?”
You slowly turned to face him, arching an inquisitive brow, but you eventually shook your head. His lips twitched into the beginning of a smirk and he took the seat across from you. His eyes were a lot lighter than they were the other day as they took you in. “Looking good, Y/N. Like always.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Really?”
He shrugged and reached for your coffee, taking the lid off. You hated it when he did this, the whole sharing coffee thing; now you would need to order another one…well, depending on how this impromptu meeting went. “What, I can’t tell my girl that she looks good?” He took a sip and made a face. “How do you still drink this crap? It tastes like foam mixed with shit.”
“And free garbage coffee from the lobby of the latest scuzzy motel you’re staying in doesn’t?”
“Hey, don’t knock it. They have real nice machines now and it tastes the way coffee should. Not like this bullshit.”
You watched as he grabbed a spoon, added some sugar, and began stirring the crap out of what had once been your perfect latte. You thought over what he’d said before. “I’m not your girl, Russell.” His eyes met yours. “I haven’t been for some time now.”
He finished stirring and removed the spoon, lifting the glass to take a sip. “You’ll always be my girl.”
You snorted and lifted a finger in the air to signal to the barista that you wanted another coffee. The kid gave you a nod and turned to make it. “Is that what you tell yourself when you’re hooking up with cheerleaders-turned-dental-hygienists in hot tubs?”
Russell pressed his lips together and looked appropriately chastised, not even bothering to deny it. “Colter told you. I should’ve known he would mention it. You two were always close like that.”   
You didn’t confirm or deny that. There was no point in mentioning that Colter hadn’t been the one to tell you, not intentionally anyway. Instead, you leaned forward in your chair. “What do you want, Russell?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“About what?” You snapped. You had been on edge, thinking he was here to either kill you or threaten you. Then him hitting on you and making that asinine and incredibly presumptuous statement bothered you more than you cared to admit. Not to mention he pissed you off when he took the latte you’d decided to treat yourself with after a few difficult days (without even asking you might add), knowing how that had irked you anytime he did it when you were dating. It was like the man was begging you to put a foot in his ass.
Russell glanced around briefly before removing something from inside his jacket. It was a folded up newspaper and he slapped it down in front of you. A picture of a burnt out structure stared back up at you with the headline reading above it “House Fire Claims 8 Lives, Sheriff Confirms Arson”. Your eyes met his and in that moment, you knew that he knew.
You refused to give it away just like that, though. If he wanted the truth, he’d have to work for it. He wasn’t getting anything for free, not from you, not anymore. You gave him a smirk. “Is this your way of telling me that you’ve finally learned to read, Russ? I’m impressed, really.”
Instead of being insulted, his eyes widened slightly. “You called me Russ.”
You sat back in your chair, pushing the newspaper away from you and prying eyes, waiting for the barista making his way over to you to deliver your coffee. “Slip of the tongue. Won’t happen again.” You smiled at the young kid in thanks when he placed the drink down in front of you and promptly slid your glass out of Russell’s reach. He saw it and immediately worked to smother a smile as the kid walked away.
“So, you got any more interesting tricks I should know about?”
Without any preamble, Russell said, “Solano’s dead,” the exact second you took a sip of your new coffee. If he was expecting any reaction to the news, he was in for disappointment when you didn’t give it.
“Yes, I heard. Quite unfortunate.”
“They’re all dead actually. Even that guard we subdued in the beginning.”
You remembered; you’d been the one to kill him after all. Once Russell and Colter got to their feet after knocking the guard out and started moving towards the house, you quietly pulled a knife and slipped the blade into the side of the man’s head. You’d cut his zip ties, removed them and the gag, and then caught up to the guys — all within seconds. You had made sure to move the guard’s body inside later, right before you’d started the fire, trying your best to get rid of any drag marks you’d left on the ground. You were there to clean up the mess, not leave witnesses, even if they had never seen any of you coming.
You nodded. “I know, I heard that, too. Is there a point here somewhere or can I get back to the nice morning I was having before you showed up to steal my coffee?”
Russell was the one to lean forward this time, lowering his voice even further. “You said you were calling in the FBI for a pickup. Who did you really call?”
You could tell he was trying to give you an out, an opportunity to explain that it wasn’t what he was thinking, and maybe you should have lied your ass off…but you no longer wanted to. You knew Russell; he wasn’t going to let this go until he had an answer that he deemed to be the truth. And while you could give him a distorted version of that truth that didn’t land at your feet, a petty part of you wanted him to know. 
“Y/N?” He pressed. “Who did you call?”
You sat back in your chair, considering him for a moment before you spoke. “No one.”
Russell dropped his head, briefly closing his eyes. “Fuck, I was afraid of that.” He glanced up at you, his eyes full of a sadness you hadn’t seen in some time. You knew he wouldn’t be happy if he ever found out the truth, but not to this extent. “I told you to walk away and let me handle it.” His voice was softer, not as gruff as before. You realized then that you’d accomplished what that vindictive side of you had wanted all along, ever since the day he walked away; you’d hurt him and caused him pain. Pain that you could see clear as day lining his face right now. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. And quite frankly, that pain caught you off guard. After all of this time, this is what it took for him to feel even a sliver of what you’d felt back in the day when he’d left you bleeding, your heart torn from your chest and sitting in pieces on the floor he’d just casually walked over to get to the door?
Not really sure what to make of this development or the emotions it caused to rise up within you, you went into pure professional mode and forged ahead. “The three of you didn’t need to be involved.” You could see the pain getting worse and it made you uncomfortable, something prodding at your chest and itching at your skin that you really didn’t care for. “Besides, last I checked, I don’t take orders from you, Shaw.” You threw his last name in there as a last resort to put even more distance there between you.
His eyes flicked from the newspaper to you. “Who do you take orders from then? Something tells me this wasn’t FBI-sanctioned.” 
You surreptitiously glanced around you before leaning in, lowering your voice.“You know, going to your handler’s house during her kid’s birthday party was a pretty bad idea. Ann really didn’t like that.” You watched as Russell’s eyes widened slightly before his face fell, a dreaded realization filling his expression. He had never mentioned her name to you before and he knew Colter hadn’t mentioned her to you either when giving you the rundown of what they knew before meeting up in the mountains. You sat back, tensed and ready for whatever came next. 
His jaw clenched. “How long?” He ground out.
“Long enough.”
You kept your gaze trained on his and you did your best to read him, trying to assess what he might do, now that the pain was all but absent since your revelation. Would he tell you to watch your back and leave? Would he tell you to stay away from Colter for good? It was hard to gauge from the way he was staring at you right then. You could see anger bubbling underneath but you also caught something coming to the surface that strangely looked like remorse. Considering you hadn’t seen that emotion on him too often, it was tough to be sure in your identification of it. And then something flickered in his eyes right then, something so fast you almost didn’t catch it, but you did. Fear that quickly dissolved into determination. You braced yourself for whatever he would say or do; this was it. This would determine your next steps.
Instead, he surprised you once more. He snatched the newspaper up and slipped it back into his jacket, before reaching over and taking your hand in his. “I’m getting you out of here. Now. Let’s go.”
Stunned, you wordlessly got to your feet but then it hit you, you were about to go somewhere alone with him. Not that you couldn’t handle yourself but he had still been Special Ops once upon a time and he killed people for a living…just like you. 
“Russell, I’m not—”
“Yes, you are,” he growled. “I’m getting you as far from here as I can. I’ve got a buddy who has a cabin in upstate New York. It’s got months-long supplies, power and running water, and a small armory. You’ll be safe there until this whole thing blows over.”
You yanked your hand out of his and grabbed your phone and jacket. “I’m plenty safe here. I have no reason to run, so I’m staying. You want to leave? Go right ahead. We both know it’s what you’re best at.” The sadness was back but you looked away from it. Yes, that had been another low blow but it was also well-deserved. You moved past him, refusing to look over your shoulder even once. There was no way he’d do anything out in the open; he wouldn’t dare risk it, especially now.
You slipped into your car, not surprised in the least when Russell got in on the other side before you could even think about locking the doors.
“What are you doing?” You hissed.
“What’s it look like?” He clicked his seatbelt. “I’m staying with you until you agree to my plan to get you someplace safe or you explain how the hell this even happened.” He pulled out the newspaper, holding it up for a moment before tossing it to the floor. You could see the determined set to his jaw and you knew he meant it. 
“Russell,” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I do not have time for this.” You blew out a quiet breath and turned to face him. “Now I suggest you get out of my car or—”
“You’ll shoot me?” He shot you a look. Yeah, he was still pissed about the threats you’d made a few nights ago. You supposed you couldn’t blame him but you did what you had to do to get him and his brother out of there. You had regrets but they were slim. “We both know you won’t.”
That infuriated you and had you seething. “You think I won’t?”
“I know you won’t. Just like I know that no matter how much you tell yourself that you hate me, you really don’t.”
You scoffed out a laugh in disbelief. “Wow, you really are incredibly delusi—”
“I also know you would never do that to my brother.” Your glare in his direction intensified. “You’ve always been protective of him. Just like me.” A glimmer of a fond smile worked its way onto his bearded face.
Your jaw clenched and you looked away from him, back towards the coffee shop you had just stormed out of, your grip tightening on your steering wheel. It was true; you’d always looked out for Colter in some way ever since you’d gotten to know him through Russell. 
While the relationship between the brothers had been strained for years, it didn’t mean that there hadn’t been a couple of times where Dory hadn’t attempted to get them into a room together to try to fix what had been broken. In one such instance, Russell had brought you along, after shocking you by asking you two nights before to accompany him. The man had spent over a decade in the military, worked Special Ops, and there wasn’t much he was afraid of, if at all. But when you were wrapping leftovers to throw into the fridge and he’d laid a hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him, you’d never seen Russell Shaw look so worried, vulnerable, and damn near terrified in all of the time you’d known him. You’d even felt it when he’d enfolded you into his arms and whispered into your ear that he was due to meet up with his family in the next two days, asking you to come with him. How could you say no to that? You knew of the family’s tragic history and the simmering tensions that still existed between the Shaws who were still alive; Russell had told you everything, even about how his mom had hung him out to dry (though he made excuses for her which made you grind your teeth). And for him to ask you to go, to meet his family, you knew then just how important this was for him. So you went, squeezed his hand in silent support whenever he appeared to need it, and did your best to provide distraction whenever things got a little too tense or heated. Dory didn’t care for you too much; you got the distinct feeling that she wasn’t happy Russell had brought an interloper to a family-only discussion. But Colter…Colter you got along with from the start. 
Colter seemed happier to talk to you than his brother and you could tell that bothered Russell tremendously. He had told you once how much he missed his siblings at times, especially his little brother, and he would never stop hoping to patch things up with them one day. Sure enough, he tried to interject into the conversation a few times with you helping as much as you could, but each time Colter shut him down. It was blatantly obvious that the younger man wanted nothing to do with him and there was definitely some resentment still floating around after years of estrangement. Needless to say, things hadn’t ended well at that dinner and you weren’t surprised that Russell drank a little heavier that night. Nor were you surprised when he grasped at you in the hotel room and pulled you to him, his lips claiming yours as he began unbuttoning your shirt and moving you towards the bed. You knew he was hurting and you let him take solace in you as you whispered loving assurances in his ear. 
After that, Colter surprised you by calling you a couple of months down the road, apologetically asking for your help on a case he had picked up. Though he didn’t know you well, he was in a rough spot and needed a helping hand, particularly a Federal one. You saw the opportunity for what it had been, an opening of a possible door between him and Russell, so you took it. You helped Colter as much as you could without risking being read the riot act by your superior, and you two got to know each other better as you worked together. It happened a few more times and you had even called Colter in to assist on a case of your own that you had snagged. You had gone for beers afterwards each time and you’d tried your best to talk to him, to convince him to give Russell a chance. He hadn’t been interested, was resistant to it even, but he liked you and he was starting to trust you a little more each time. He’d even reluctantly admitted once that he was glad his brother had you, immediately following up with “He better be treating you right, though.” You had simply smiled and assured him that Russell very much was. 
You didn’t mention the odd absences a few times a month (sometimes with little to no warning), the radio silence during these stints, and the avoidance of any penetrating questions upon his return — all of it that had become conditional to your relationship by that point. And Russell certainly wasn’t happy at all to find out you’d been working with Colter once you told him. You both had arguments before like any common couple but nothing like this. You had never seen him so angry and he’d laughed when you told him he had no need to be jealous if that was what he was worried about, you loved him and you were trying to make things better for the both of them, to pave the way for him to be able to make peace with his brother. 
“You just don’t get it.” 
He had shaken his head and glared over at you before he walked out of the room, away from you. From then on, Russell became even more secretive, distant, and cold as ice. Gone was the easy affection, heart to heart talks, and playful banter between you. Gone were the tender touches, gentle kisses, and passionate sex. The love of your life turned into a stranger right before your very eyes. It hadn’t been too long after that when he’d left for good, leaving your heart shattered on your hardwood floor. As time passed, you were surprised he hadn’t just packed up and left in the middle of the night while you were sleeping, without a single word to you and completely ghosting you, since he had been intent on leaving you in his past. It might have been kinder actually compared to the things he’d said to you as a final goodbye before walking away for good. 
So whenever you had dared to think back on it over the last few years, you’d always figured the fight over Colter had contributed in some way to the rapid unraveling of your relationship. Well, that fight and…other things.
“Let’s go somewhere we can talk,” Russell urged, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Come on, Y/N, you owe me that at least.”
You turned the most menacing glare on him that was possible for you to give someone. “I don’t owe you shit,” you bit out. How dare he say that? To you of all people?  
His jaw tightened and after a moment, he agreed with a soft nod. “Fair enough.” 
You broke away from his intent gaze a minute later, your decision made as you turned the car on. “You know what? If this will get you out of my life for good this time, then fine. Let’s talk. And don’t be so sure I won’t shoot you afterwards should you continue to piss me off. You’re right, I do care about Colter,” You scowled over at him. “But not that deeply.”
Russell matched your scowl but wisely kept quiet as you backed your car out of your parking spot. You felt an immediate surge of guilt for having said that about his younger brother. You did care about Colter, more than you would ever admit to anyone, even your ex. There was nothing remotely romantic between you two; there never had been and there never would be. But Russell had been right; you were protective of him. Not only because he was a good man but he also reminded you of someone you had lost long ago. You would bend over backwards to keep him safe (as safe as you could given his chosen career), even if it meant putting yourself in harm’s way. He had truly become like a brother to you. 
But you had also meant what you said just now. If Russell continued to irritate you, there was no way he was leaving this time without you putting a bullet in him. Right in his ass before the door could hit it when he turned his back on you for the last time. That or a good old fashioned ass kicking in the form of your right hook. After everything he’d done, he deserved nothing less.  
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You pulled up to a local motel that you had booked a room at the last few days, in case you needed to close up shop and haul ass out of town quickly. It wasn’t the same establishment you had gone to the morning of the fire and you still had your place thirty minutes away, but you had learned it was always best to prepare for any eventuality. Especially after a job needing to be done so close to home. You had seen what happened with Doug; who was to say Horizon wouldn’t leave you out to dry, too, should the heat from the fire get a little too close?
You got out and headed over to the door, unlocking it and stepping inside, not looking back to see if Russell was following you. Neither of you had spoken on the ride over (which was probably for the best) and you didn’t glance at him once. Instead, you had done your damndest to tamp down the fury you felt racing through your veins as more and more memories played out in your mind. Now that Russell had a vague idea of the truth of what you had been doing all of this time, everything you had ever wanted to say to him seemed to be trying to rush to the surface as well as all of the pain you had endured.
You slipped your suit jacket off and tossed it onto the bedspread. You heard the door shut behind you and you spun around, seeing Russell’s eyes scanning the room, stopping on the bed, and then lifting to you. You scoffed and unbuttoned the sleeves of your blouse, rolling them up to your forearms. “Not happening so don’t even think about it,” you hissed.
“Wasn’t going there.”
You didn’t believe him. “Right.” You took a seat at the table and impatiently gestured to the seat across from you. “Well?”
He sat down and without missing a beat, dove right in. “How the hell did this even happen, Y/N?”
“Really? That’s what you’re starting out with?”
Russell shot you a look.
You let out an aggravated sigh and sat back in your chair, crossing your legs and getting comfortable. “I was recruited, not too long after you left.”
His jaw dropped. “They approached you?”
Nodding, your jaw tightened thinking back to that time. It wasn’t a memory you liked revisiting. You were at your lowest, Russell having just walked out like the four and a half years you’d spent together hadn’t meant a damn thing to him. He had been it for you. You had put everything you had into the relationship, which proved to be a difficult balancing act sometimes between your career at the Bureau and Russell’s job that he wouldn’t tell you too much about. You both had overcome so much together…all for him to tell you that he simply didn’t love you anymore, give you a shitty apology, and walk right out the door years later. Like you had simply been an amusing distraction, nothing more. Like you had merely been a stopping point in his journey and now he was bored and moving on. The breakup would’ve hurt regardless but the cold detached manner he’d spoken to you with caused more pain than you would have ever been willing to admit. It was a good thing you had already become a Special Agent by then, not stuck to any one location or field office, given how often you were hungover for some weeks there. You had attempted to track him down (which hadn’t been easy) to try to talk to him, to make him see reason; you didn’t believe that he had stopped loving you just like that. But when you had finally located him, he had been holed up in a dingy motel, similar to this one, but he wasn’t alone. That had hurt beyond words and it had taken everything for you not to say anything, not to let him see you, and turn back around, heading home with your tail between your legs and your head hanging in heartbroken defeat. 
None of it made sense to you. How had your life changed so drastically in a single day? Perhaps you had never really known Russell Shaw. Perhaps you only saw what he wanted you to see. But when you replayed the last few weeks of your relationship, even the fight over Colter, something still wasn’t jiving. So you buried yourself in work during the day and as deep into the bottle as you could during the late nights. Until they showed up.
“And you said yes?” He asked in disbelief.
Your eyes flicked to Russell, narrowing. “Why not? You did.”
He pressed his lips together. You had him there and he knew it. “That was different.”
“How?” You snapped. “Exactly how is that different, Russell?”
“I joined them long before you and I met.” Yeah, you knew that now. You knew everything he hadn’t told you the time you’d been together, minus the actual details of the off the books missions he went on. You now knew why Doug had never told Tracy anything either. Not only were they not allowed to, but It was safer that way.
“Well, bully for you, Shaw. You’ve got a few years on me at being a black ops agent and you’ve racked up a few more bodies than I have. Told way more lies, too. Congrats. Do we get you a cake or…?”
He leaned forward, covering your hand with his. “Stop. Just…talk to me,” he pleaded gently.
You hated it when he did that because you hated that it still affected you on some deep level. You rolled your eyes and moved your hand from underneath his, placing it in your lap. “They approached me about six months out from when you left.”
“Who approached you?”
Yeah, you weren’t giving him that. If you did, you knew he’d be on their doorstep in a second and that you couldn’t have. Not after you had just cleaned up the Solano mess and smoothed things over. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.” You knew that, could see it in his expression, but too bad. You both were in it now, had signed NDA’s, and details like that were meant to stay confidential anyway. 
“Someone did and that’s all you're getting.” You gave him a meaningful look. “Regardless, they offered me a job and I took it.”
You watched as Russell’s features tightened. “And the FBI thing?”
“Still active, though I’m now kept more as an ear to the ground, providing information and cleanup when need be.” You noticed a slight wince cross across his face. “They’re the ones I answer to and they’ve chosen to keep me there for the time being. I’m more effective in that setup.” Those words from your handler still burned you but over time, you had been able to adapt and utilize their refusal to fully bring you in to your advantage.
“And Solano and his men? Were they cleanup?”
You didn’t break away from his penetrating gaze and gave it to him straight. “You and Doug made quite a mess of things. So, yes, I was called in to clean it up.” He briefly closed his eyes in the same pain you had seen earlier, though you couldn’t fathom why. It had been nearly three years since he’d last professed to give a shit about you. Why would this even affect him? “Horizon wanted you kept clean and Doug was on his own. Then you idiotically showed up at Ann’s residence, not only tipping them off to the fact that you were sniffing around where you shouldn’t have been but then you allowed Colter to threaten them. You had to know that was going to ruffle quite a few feathers and put a target on your backs.”
His jaw clenched again and that dark void was back in his gaze. His fingers twitched near his phone and you knew he was itching to call his brother to check on him. “And they sent you to clean that up, too?”
You slowly shook your head. “No.” If they had, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. Most likely, you’d be dead while Colter and Russell would hopefully be on the run or have gone into hiding. “Only to assess what threats you both posed to the organization.”
“And what was your assessment?” He watched you carefully. In this moment, you weren’t former lovers. You were two people with lethal skills and training, willing to do whatever it took to keep your loved ones safe, even from each other. 
You never broke away from his gaze, watching him back just as carefully. “What do you think?”
He stayed quiet for a moment, looking pensive and most likely turning your words over in his mind. You weren’t going to say it but knowing that gnawing feeling of constantly worrying about someone you cared deeply about, you wanted to make sure you both were on the same page of this topic. “And, Russell, if they had sent me for that, I never would.” His gaze immediately met yours. “Ever,” you promised. 
His eyes roamed over your face, most likely assessing if you were bullshitting him or telling the truth. Obviously having decided on the latter, after a minute or so, he gave you a nod. “How do you know they accepted your assessment, though? There’s no way they don’t know about you and Colter, you and me…”
This time, your jaw was the one clenching. Yeah, you were made aware of that fact when you had been approached for recruitment. That was how they knew about you, your career as a Federal agent, and how you had been involved with Russell once upon a time. When you found out more about Horizon from the inside, it didn’t surprise you one bit how deeply they dove into the background of their candidates or the amount of information they gathered on them. You’d even helped put together a few files yourself, without fully knowing what unit the candidates were being considered for of course. They kept a close watch on their assets and that was putting it lightly. 
So when you got involved with Russell, completely oblivious to what you were really getting into, Horizon had already scoped you out as well as Colter, Dory, their mother, Bobby, Reenie, Teddi, Velma — everyone. Even Colter’s on-again/off-again, Billie, and the mysterious circumstances of the death of the boys’ father. They knew it all. Horizon didn’t like surprises and you supposed you couldn’t blame them considering their line of work, but it also meant that you and everyone you cared about needed to be extra careful. 
It was one of the many reasons you couldn’t completely forgive Russell, though you now understood why he’d walked out when he did. Things had unraveled so badly between you that you’d started quietly digging into Horizon, not trusting what Russell had told you prior. Back then, you thought you’d find only what Russell had claimed: private security, perhaps a couple of Special Ops situations where an American hostage was retrieved in another country, or worse: he was lying to you and having an affair. Now, you knew he had told you the truth — a very scrubbed, limited version of the truth that omitted most of what he really did for the outfit. You remembered what he’d told you about a week and a half before he left. 
“You need to stop digging.” 
You looked upon him with confusion. One minute, you had been having a very tense and silent dinner where you could only hear forks scraping against the plates every so often, and the next, Russell was glaring over at you, speaking cryptically. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You need to stop looking into Horizon and leave it alone. I mean it, Y/N. Let it be.” His eyes bored into you with warning before he got up from the table and took his plate into the kitchen, leaving you to finish your meal alone.    
Normally, you wouldn’t have listened, determined to get to the bottom of Russell’s mysterious employer, but considering how your relationship was hanging by a thread at that point, you did. Despite the warning bells going off in your head, you did as exactly as he said: you let it be. 
You suddenly remembered Russell’s question to you. “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”
Russell affected a slow nod, thinking it over. “And Colter?”
“I told them he’s no threat,” you murmured. “I talked to him, told him to forget they exist. He agreed as long as you were safe.”
For the first time since this conversation started, you could see Russell start to relax a bit, relief saturating his features. Even a small smile started to light up the tension in his face. While you could understand the feeling, share it even, something about it had you on your feet, walking over to the small refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of water from the six pack you had tossed in there when you booked the room. You held one up in an offer but Russell shook his head. 
“I’m good.”
You shrugged, unsurprised, and twisted off the cap, taking a drink. It made sense that he was still being cautious. Before you knew it, though, he was standing in front of you, that pleading yet determined look in his eyes again. 
“I want to get you out.”
You snorted. “There is no getting out, Russell. Not for me, anyway. Not until they’re done with me.”
He took a step closer and gently took the water bottle from you, placing it on the counter, and grasped your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “There’s always an exit strategy,” he murmured. “I never wanted this for you, Y/N. I only ever wanted to keep you safe. That’s why I left.”
Yeah, you knew that now, too. “I know that now. Why you wouldn’t tell me certain things about your job, but, Jesus, Russell. Did you really think they didn’t already know about me and who I was to you? Colter even? Dory? Your mom?”
He let out a deep sigh and hung his head, letting your chin go. “I know. I… It was a good fit for me at the time, the money was good — that’s why I hooked Doug up with them. But seeing how they hung him out to dry at the first opportunity and now you,” He tenderly ran his thumb along your cheek. “I’m seriously starting to rethink that decision.”
You pulled away from him. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t unring that bell.” You made your way back over to the bed and yanked your duffel bag from underneath it. You unzipped it and began rooting through it to make sure you had everything you needed for a quick getaway. You didn’t think you needed to go anywhere but now this location was blown for you since you had made the decision to let Russell know about it. You had already triple checked your stash when you left it here upon check-in but you needed something to focus on instead of the clear regret in Russell’s face. “And as for me, I made my decision.” You pulled out a gun from a secret compartment, checked the clip to make sure it was full, and slipped it back inside. “I’m good with it. I’ve used it fully to my advantage and I make good money, more than I was ever going to make at the Bureau, even if they fast-tracked me to Deputy Director. Solano was on our Most Wanted List for twenty six days and I took him out in one. Had he possibly gone free, there’s no telling what he would have done, who he would have hurt besides Doug.” You knew exactly what he would have done and who he would have hurt; he’d told you in explicit detail. You didn’t go into it but Russell wasn’t stupid (not when it came to things like this anyway). He most likely knew as well. He’d wanted to close up Solano as a loose end himself after all. “That kind of cleanup I can more than live with.”
Russell carefully approached, his eyes on the second gun you had pulled out and were checking. “I get that and I more than appreciate what you did with Solano. For Doug, for Colter and me.” Once you slipped the weapon back into its pocket, he laid a hand on your shoulder, prompting you to look over at him. “You can’t tell me, though, that this is what you want for your endgame. Not really.”
You shook your head in disbelief. “I don’t have an endgame, Russell. Maybe I did once but you took that the second you walked out the door, acting like everything we’d gone through meant nothing to you, like I meant nothing to you.” 
There was that remorse again and you despised it. “I’m sorry, I…handled that badly,” he admitted.
“Handled it badly?” You laughed in disbelief. You shirked his hand off of you and moved to the night table, yanking the drawer open to rip out the bible sitting in there. You opened it to the area you had cut out to hold emergency cash and cards, just like Russell had taught you once upon a time. “You told me I’d been nothing to you but a fling for the past four years, that you might have loved me once but you didn’t anymore. That I was…how did you put it? A fun distraction.” You slammed the bible shut and tossed it back into the drawer before closing it. You hurried back over to the bag, throwing the funds inside another secret compartment, more than done with this conversation.
“You’re right, I fucked up. I only said those things to—”
“Cut the cord, yeah, I know. Still doesn’t make it right,” you muttered, roughly zipping the duffel back up. 
“I wanted you to be safe. You were digging into them, even after I told you not to! And worse, you were pulling Colter into it!”
That quickly got your attention and you spun on your heel, jabbing a finger in the air at him. “Don’t you fucking dare lay Colter at my feet. Especially after what you just pulled last week. It wasn’t me hauling him into Doug’s case! Not to mention, way before you met me, the minute you took that job, you put everyone you knew on their radar and you know it! So don’t you fucking dare. I have been doing everything I can to make sure Colter is safe and doesn’t pull their attention, poring over every case he takes in the background to ensure they’re not involved or have any vested interests that are. Hell, I even just used a contact of mine to float a case over to Teddi and Velma to get him out of town and far away from here to continue keeping him safe. Me, Russell! Me! And what did you do to keep him safe? You blow back into town and not only put him even more on their radar, you deliver him right to their goddamn doorstep! So don’t you dare even try to put that on me,” you finished in a snarl. 
Shame lurked at the corners of his eyes and you scoffed in disgust, whirling around to grab your jacket from the bed before picking up the duffel bag and slinging the handle over your shoulder. “So glad we had this talk,” you sniped. “Now go have fun with the cheerleading dental hygienist or Reenie,” You could see more shame looking back at you. Unlike the hot tub conquest, Colter had actually told you about that one. You could tell how much it was bothering him and you knew he wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise, knowing it wasn’t something you really wanted to hear. “Or that bartender you holed up with three weeks after you walked out on me,” Now you could see surprise; you could care less. “Or whoever you want. But me? I’m done. Have a nice life, Russell Shaw, and try not to get killed before you get out to start your little brewery operation. Oh, and try to manage not to get your brother or me killed in the process, yeah? Thanks ever so much. See ya.” 
You were walking towards the door when you were grabbed and whipped around. Before you could react, Russell was on you, his mouth covering yours and his hands gripping your face. “I love you,” he breathed against your lips after breaking away to let you catch your breath. “I’m sorry I said what I did back then but it wasn’t the truth. It took everything I had to walk away but as long as you were safe, that was all that mattered to me. I fucked up and I am sorry. I never stopped loving you, Y/N. Not ever.” 
He wiped at your cheeks and you hadn’t even realized you’d been crying. Shit. Well, that was embarrassing. Even more embarrassing was how much you wanted to believe him. You knew he was telling the truth about why he walked away, how he wanted to keep you safe, but it obviously hadn’t been as difficult for him to move on as it had been for you. “No, you don’t,” you choked out. “If that were true, you would have never walked out that door.” Your voice wobbled on those last few words and you hated it, hated how vulnerable you were being to him right now.
You wiped at your own cheeks and turned around, ignoring the pleading you saw once again in his eyes. 
“Y/N, please,” he ground out.
You kept moving towards the door. As you laid your hand on the door handle to turn it, you were whipped around one more time and he was kissing you yet again, your back pressed up against the wood. Except this time, you finally threw in the towel and gave in to what your damaged heart had been wanting all of this time. You buried your fingers in his hair and kissed him back just as passionately, not caring that more tears rolled down your cheeks as you did. He yanked the duffel bag from you and let it fall into a heap on the floor before lifting you up and turning to carry you over to the bed. You knew this was going to hurt like hell later but you refused to put a stop to it. You’d find a way to numb the pain when it ripped you open a second time, just like you always had. 
The only thought running through your mind as he laid you down and ripped your blouse open, sending buttons flying everywhere, was that you had been right. You knew the bastard had been lying earlier when you’d caught him looking between you and the bed. But right then as he lifted away from you to quickly shed his top layers and then dove back down to kiss you again and melt into you, your fingers greedily relearning every inch of his bare skin, you couldn’t care less.   
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You reached your hand over, tenderly running a finger along the edges of the bandage on Russell’s arm. “Does it hurt?” You murmured.
“A little.” He turned his head to smile down at you. “More than worth it, though.”
You rolled your eyes, ignoring his chuckle at you gently pushing his head away, and turned onto your back. Russell embraced you with his other arm, pulling you into him. You rested your ear against his bare chest, hearing his steady heartbeat and settling your gaze on the ceiling above you. He pressed a kiss to your head, letting his lips linger against your hair, as his thumb rubbed your shoulder back and forth.
After a few minutes of content silence between you, you put voice to the question resounding in your mind. “How did we get here, Russell?”
“Well, you drove us over and then we—”
You softly swatted his chest, making him laugh and hearing the sound reverberate underneath your ear. “You know what I mean.”
“I wish I knew the best way to answer that, “ he whispered to you. You could hear the genuine regret in his tone and it made you start thinking about when you both would have to leave this motel room, and go back to the separate lives you had been living. Memories of lazy mornings like this back when you had been together, of you listening to his voice in your ear and knowing you were safe and loved, replayed in your mind on a loop. You would never admit it to him but you missed this, missed him. Nothing had felt right in the last couple of years like this moment here did. If anything, all of that time felt like some weird drug-induced nightmare, and you had just woken up to find Russell here next to you, nothing having changed. But that wasn’t true; everything had changed.
Not wanting to think about that just yet, you picked up the hand that had been caressing your shoulder and studied the skin of his wrist. “This is new.” You trailed your finger along the design of the tattoo sitting there. “What prompted you to get this one?”
“That’s something Doug and I got one night when we met up with another one of the guys from our unit when he was in town. Tommy Laird. Good man.”
“A crown?”
Russell shrugged underneath you. “Tommy picked the design.”
“‘We three kings’, huh?”
You heard him chuckle. “Never thought of it like that but sure.”
“Is he also a part of Horizon?”
You felt him tense underneath you at the mention of the dark and deadly elephant in the room. “No. He, uh, he lives with his wife and three kids in North Carolina. They have a house in Cary and he went back to the family business when he got home.”
You nodded and pulled his wrist to you, placing your lips on his skin and tenderly kissing the middle of the design before letting him go. He hugged you closer to him and placed a kiss to your ear in turn, letting out what sounded like a contented sigh. 
A moment later, he murmured. “I want to help get you out.”
You nearly rolled your eyes again. You wanted to ask him why he was dead set on thinking that you even wanted out. Perhaps the you he had known would want a way out, want something more out of life than money and secrets and cleanups, but you had changed a lot in the last three years. But you knew if you posed that question, it would shatter the cocoon you currently found yourselves in and you weren’t ready for that to end just yet. So instead, you reminded him of another angle of the truth. “That’s not possible. Not the way you’re thinking. You know that.”
“Anything’s possible.” You nearly smiled at his response; there was the stubborn streak that sometimes infuriated you and sometimes endeared you to him, like right now. But you needed to make sure you maintained a reality check for the both of you. You knew what he was really thinking.
“Even if it was, we can’t.”
His head lifted and he frowned down at you. “Why not?”
“This isn’t some Mr. and Mrs. Smith shit. We don’t get a happy ending,” you finished sadly, thinking back to the life you once shared together as you cupped his cheek and rubbed it gently with your thumb. “Not together. It’s too dangerous.” You left it at that but you knew that he was more than aware of what you meant. 
His frown intensified at your words and he covered your hand with his, turning to place a kiss into your palm. “We’ll work it out.”
“Russ,” you sighed.
He gently grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, looking into your eyes. “We’ll work it out,” he softly repeated, that glint of determination back in his gaze. 
You decided once more that you wouldn’t bother launching into the many reasons it actually wouldn’t work out and you would refrain from popping that bubble he had just wrapped you both in. That moment would come later. But for now, you continued to keep silent.
When he noticed you weren’t going to say anything, a mischievous smile began to form on that handsome face you loved. “You know, I don’t really have anything planned for today. How about you?”
Other than some paperwork you had to go over later, your day was pretty much free, too. Even if it hadn’t been, you knew that look and after this morning, despite still having some unresolved anger with him, despite things that still needed to be said between you, you would have freed up your schedule immediately. “I don’t think I’ll be missed for a while,” you teased.
He leaned in to kiss you, whispering to your lips, “Oh, you were missed. Very much fucking missed.” The impishness you had heard a moment before was now absent but he never gave you a chance to respond. Instead, he kissed you deeply and began moving to cover your body with his once again. He maneuvered himself in between your thighs, your legs automatically coming up to gently cradle his hips. “Your arm,” you broke away to warn him.
“Don’t care.” He lowered down to keep kissing you and surprisingly (or unsurprisingly perhaps), all was right in the world right then. You didn’t allow yourself to get swept away by it or by the fantasy of something that would never be. Sadly, the time for you and Russell to be together had come and gone. You’d had your chance and you both had blown it, with him starting you out of the gate. This right here, this was all that was left — like embers of a dying fire. You would always love him, you knew that (truthfully, you had always known it), but this was all you would ever have. Once you both walked out that door, you would be walking in separate directions, taking different paths in your lives, no matter what Russell would say. 
But for right now, you allowed yourself to live in the moment, to enjoy it as he groaned into your mouth when your hand helped guide him to where you both wanted him to be. You held onto him as he began a slow movement within you, knowing you would need to take over again very soon when his left arm began to tremble. But until then you kept him close to you, drank deeply of him, and reveled in what the two of you had always managed to create together, content to keep Horizon and the rest of the world on the other side of the motel room door, if only for a moment longer. 
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A/N: I know I left some things open and unresolved. I wanted to do that to let this be a gateway to the continuing story in the short series coming titled "Closer".
Please let me know what you think. 😊
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pipartuuli · 6 months
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SOMMEREN 1994
Page 1 of ?
- - -
One of my favorite mtl headcanons of all time is that Runke (yeah, the guy who appears for all of thirty seconds in s2e15 “Dethdad”) was Toki’s gateway to escaping his childhood situation. My intention is to make a short comic about it, but comic artist I am not, so we’ll see how it goes!!
Notes under the cut!
And my standard blanket apology for any incorrect Norwegian. I attempt to research but y’know… unreliable internet information. I can promise it’ll be at least as accurate as what was used in the canonical series!
Content Warning: This being a Toki backstory piece, you can expect there to be references to child abuse in later pages.
Dates and ages in Metalocalypse are played fast and loose. I’m working off the assumption that s1e1 takes place in 2006 to coincide with the air date, and that Toki was in his mid-20s as of the pilot, so I’m giving him 1981 as a birth year. As the title implies, I have this set in 1994 which puts him at 12 or 13 for this. I think Runke’s about ten years his senior, so we’ll say he’s 23. It was fun to try and guess what a younger Runke might have looked like! We love a prematurely balding king.
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I think this blog is blocked by fewer people that have heard the rumors and lies going around. I hope you'll read this. There are three sides to every story-- yours, theirs, and the truth.
I deserve to get my side out there so people can make informed decisions about who to follow or block, or whatever it is you need to do. It's okay not to support me, but do it for the right reasons.
I also run sysmedsaresexist, and I'm currently being accused of harassing a minor and sending random ass asks left, right and center.
Listen, if you got an ask where the person didn't say, "this is SAS," it's not from me. I HATE asks. On the rare occasion that I send them, I always tell people who I am. I am well aware that I'm a controversial figure. I want people to know who they're interacting with when I talk to them. I am old. It's important that I'm honest with the people I interact with. A lot of people really stepped up to support me, but I would like people to stop. Unfortunately, it's doing more harm than good.
With every one of these messages people send in support of me, the rumors get worse.
I want to defend myself, but I don't know how.
Send a vent to a vent blog that just actively lied about me? They won't post it. (They didn't, I just checked)
So I'll post it myself. You can make your own decision. All posts I've made on the topic are linked here (it's 5, compared to the DOZENS AEV has posted)
This will be my last post on the topic, and I hope that the people spreading these rumors will leave me alone. You've done more damage and harm to me than you know, and without any remorse or apology.
Ask sent to @anti-endo-haven :
I'm SAS and I'm so hurt.
I have not sent ANY anons to AEV, at all, at any point. I have not ASKED anyone to help me in this,
I made 5 posts. They have made about 50 at this point, all cruel.
The first was to AEV on their first post, which was NOT as rude as people say. I said, look webmd and mayo clinic isn't going to hold up to some of the articles that endos are throwing at us. Try some of these. I said, look, you're going to get really tired of hearing the same endo arguments. Here's some points you can throw back at them.
NOT TO MENTION THE MISINFORMATION IN THE POST. Dissociation is only trauma based? Incorrect. Maybe you should reconsider whether you're ready to be in these conversations.
That response was hidden.
The second post, I was correcting an endo that DID wasn't a trauma disorder. I tagged AEV and said, "see, you can be nice about corrections, and these are the kind of sources you should use."
I was blocked.
THIS IS WHEN I CHANGED LABELS. I was so disappointed in the community that I said fuck that, that's not what I want to be, I don't support this behavior. That's another person that AEV turned pro endo. Good job.
Then I saw the anon saying I was an endo. I used my other blog to POLITELY say, "This isn't true, please stop posting about me like this." This post is still on JAS, I didn't delete it like people are claiming
The fourth post was me making my own public post saying, "this child is throwing a tantrum over corrections. Now l'm pissed and I have to make my own public post so people don't believe those lies." This was the first rude post. I called AEV a blemish, and here's why.
I just made a MASSIVE post about dissociation that is actively being spread within the endo community now. All because I changed my label. I don't care if you all want to block me, but don't pretend that you're all doing anything to help by making bad resources for an audience that already believes the same stuff (all these new antis). Now all the new ones are spreading the same bad sources that don't hold up, and we all (yes, you, me, them, the next CDD system in line) look bad for it.
AEV couldn't provide a single source that said DID WAS trauma based, only "usually" trauma based. AEV actually made antis TURN PRO ENDO, because they used so many sources that said "usually". I offered him sources that said it WAS trauma based.
I'm not kidding, you can find the people that changed sides on sophieinwonderland's blog. This is what happened. I don't need to be polite as pie to people inadvertently harming the CDD community, but I certainly wasn't rude about it
My final post, the fifth post, on the subject was the sad one. "My main was leaked." There are people that stalk my blogs. They send me threats and long asks about the things they'd do to me if they found me. When sophie first came to tumblr, I'd get asks about what people wanted ghost to do to me. In the past, every time a new doxxer comes out of their gross hole, I start getting doxxing threats. l've had people get close to my area.
My main being released means those people are one step closer to actually finding me. It means I'm now getting these kinds of messages in my only safe space.
And the anon who sent my main admitted it was done maliciously. We had a falling out like two years ago, because their asks were getting creepy. When I APOLOGIZED TO THEM for ever hurting them because of my own avoidance issues, and told them that on this post, their response was, "well I enjoyed sending them so fuck you." If I ever find that post deleted, I've got a screenshot. You were NOT a minor at the time, you're an adult.
... Nice, really mature. You're definitely safe for minors.
Hey, also, minors, if an adult you just met online calls you "my kiddo", don't respond with an ovo face. Run.
Adults, if you call a minor your kiddo and they're like, owo really, I'm your kiddo? Fucking run.
Anyways.
I haven't said anything since. What can say. My main is out and I'm getting threats on it. Currently. Not "in the future," like the person said. It's happening NOW.
What do all you people want from me? I AM trying to leave you all alone. Stop saying such terrible things about me, godDAMN. I am not harassing minors. I don't want to harass anyone.
WHAT DID I ACTUALLY DO WRONG? I don't understand.
You're not the good guys you think you all are.
Not anymore.
I don't know that you ever were.
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shayyprasad · 26 days
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helloo this is my first time in a while requesting so if this doesn't make much sense then that's whyy
could I please request peter parker with an s/o who does competitive cheer as a sport, and gets hurt a lot because they have a lot of main parts in routines (like tumbling nd holding girls up nd stuff), peter is always concerned for them cuz they r always hurting something but he also loves seeing them perform at comps and stuff
if you want a better understanding of the sport u could research! but thanks in advance <3
pom-poms and bruises | peter parker
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a/n: your request was great, no worries! i did do my fair share of research, but lemme tell you, my knowledge on cheer (or, like, any sport) is mad limited. if i got some information incorrect, i apologize in advance! i took... creative liberties (?) and changed some minor details - instead of competitive cheer, it's high school cheer. enjoy the fic, and i hope i did this request it's justice. sorry this took so long!!
summary: peter can't help but worry seeing you all bruised up, but no matter what, he's your biggest fan.
warnings: the ouchies, innuendos to sex
pairing: fem!cheerleader!reader x peter parker
word count: 1.8k+ words
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"oh jeez," peter sighs, rubbing his thumb over the bruise on your cheek. it was a blue-purple, indicating that it was fresh. "what happened?"
you wave him off, grinning, "you know how it goes, battle scars and all."
"scar?" he cocks a brow.
sighing, "battle bruise isn't half as badass."
"right, i forgot the most important thing is proclaiming our dominance in the social hiearchy of the big ol' globe. and obviously not our physical health."
"you wouldn't understand, baby. it's a full time job."
gently, peter pushes you up against your locker. leaning in to whisper, he says, "i wouldn't, angel? best believe i've got battle scars of my own."
"ugh. so not the same. not everyone has the luck of getting to be a human-spider."
"yeah, okay, luck."
"you seriously cannot complain," you deadpan. "that bite did you favors! like, down there, you grew at least- mmph-!"
peter covers your mouth with his hand, "we are not having this conversation."
"it was a compliment! i mean, it's not like you sucked before or anything. i'm just saying it... improved... you."
"somehow, this isn't going the direction you think it is."
"oops. i didn't mean to hurt your over-inflating ego."
"first off, if anyone has an ego that needs to be kept in check, it's you."
"don't blame me," you tell him, "blame the girls," you're referring to your cheer team, pinching his cheeks. "but... maybe i can compensate with a kiss?"
he feigns annoyance, "i suppose." in response, you lean in for a kiss, melting at his touch.
peter kisses your bruise as well, letting it linger for a moment longer. "does it hurt?" he asks.
"barely," you shrug, leaning in for more, but he isn't quite focused on that at the moment. giving you a look, he softly pokes your cheek, to which you wince.
"right. barely."
"don't be a worry-wart, worry-wart."
"i'm not! 'm just concerned!"
"puh-lease," you scoff. "you come back worse! remember that time you broke and entered into my bedroom, then proceed to bleed out onto that cute new rug?"
he looks down, epitome of cute puppy. "yes," peter says, guilty, "i do."
you pat his stomach, nuzzling your nose against his. "see? so you have nothing to worry about. me, on the other hand," you trail off.
"nah. you don't have anything to worry about either, angel."
"watch me worry anyways," you snort.
he pinches your cheeks, and you swat his hands away. "watch it!"
"you're my intellectual property."
"oh, so you're objectifying me now?"
"wait- no! no, of course not!"
"lemme me just say right now, may would not be happy."
peter groans, shoving you away.
"no!" you giggle, "i'm sorry! i won't snitch!"
he peeks an eye open, turning his head just barely to look at you. "fine, i guess," peter pulls you back.
"hey, petey?"
"hm?" he asks, nuzzled in your neck. there's just a few minutes before class starts, and he wants to make the most of it.
"are you coming to the game? it's my first year of being captain, and, well, it'd be cool if you came." suddenly you're more bashful than giggly, and he's quick to assure you.
"are you kidding me? of course i'm coming. i'm not missing the chance to see my girl shine.
"you sure? because i know you don't care for foot-"
"shhh," he presses his palm to your mouth. "yeah, i hate football, but i just to happen to love y- god!" he exclaims as you lick his hand, but in your defense, what did peter expect?"
"you put in on my mouth!"
peter narrows his eyes at you, "vermin."
"see you tonight?"
"see you tonight," peter replies as the bell rings. with one last kiss, you part ways.
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your hair was done, two yellow and blue bows to tie the look together. midtown theme eyeshadow was painted on your eyelids, with stars dotted on your cheekbones. you have your cheer uniform on, and you're basically jumping with how giddy you are.
part of you is nervous, because you don't want to mess this up. every year, a senior is picked to be captain, with a junior as a mentee. not only do you have to set a good example for the junior this year, but you have to wow everyone.
checking your makeup one more time, you grab your purse, heading out to the car.
by the time you get there, your teammates are already stretching. on the other side of the field, football players are warming up. last year, liz was captain, well, before she moved. then she got replaced by gwen.
you knew liz and peter... okay, so you weren't completely sure, but they had something. some part of you wanted to be better than liz, entirely for peter. you know it was silly, but you felt like you had something to prove. some families are already in, which is funny, because there's an hour to the game.
it's normally parents and friends of the cheerleaders/players that get here before most people, but there are some occasions.
peter's here, you know that. you haven't looked for him yet, but as you get up, you scan the bleacher. finally, you spot a curly, brown-haired boy (it helps that he's waving like crazy) and his aunt. you blow a kiss to them, grin present of your face.
tasha, one your girls, taps your shoulder, "we're gonna run our routine a couple times, okay? just before the game starts." you pull your eyes away from may and peter, nodding at her.
the familiar music of your routine starts playing. the first part's easy, synchronized movements, shoulder-to-shoulder.
as the routine progresses, you feel the familiar rush of adrenaline. you spot the base of the pyramid, their arms outstretched, and with a deep breath, you allow yourself to be pulled upwards.
their grip is firm and reassuring as you climb, hand over hand, until you reach the apex. a split second later, you're soaring through the air, launching into a full backflip.
as you launch yourself into the backflip, you feel your body twist off-axis. the ground rushes up to meet you, and with a sickening thud, you land flat on your face. a gasp escapes your lips, the sting of impact radiating through your jaw.
the cheers falter for a moment, but your teammates are quick to react. they rush to your side, concern etched on their faces. you sit up, momentarily stunned, but the pain quickly makes itself known.
just as soon as it's there, it's gone, leaving you slightly sore. "i'm okay!" you call out, lopsided smile on your face. the first person you look for is peter, who's already heading towards you.
gently, he moves everyone away. "jesus, are you okay? what'd you fall onto? your head? wait, are you dizzy? lightheaded? nauseated?" peter grabs your by the chin, hurry to inspect everything on your face.
"baby, baby," you say, cradling his hand. "i'm okay, i swear. i might've bruised something... like my ego," you joke, smile on your face, but he is not amused.
"no? okay. well, honestly my jaw is too, or will be," you point to the left side. "'s red?"
"yeah," he winces, "it's gonna leave a nasty bruise." you're sure it's not as bad with makeup on, but you can't be sure.
"does anyone have concealer?" you call out.
jenny, a girl that's your shade nods, "yeah! i'll grab it!" she tosses it to you, and you catch it perfectly.
peter presses his lips together, "so no concussion?"
"because i caught it? to be fair, that was mostly luck."
his eyes widen. "but no! i don't have any concussions!"
peter tilts his head, "icepack?"
"nah. i'm good, really."
he hesitates, "okay. be careful though, seriously." you don't feel like hearing a lecture right now, so you nod quickly.
"i will, i will!"
"because i swear-"
"you won't have to! i'm all good. now leave," you joke, "you're embarrassing me. if i wanted to be smothered, i would've asked for my mom."
he blows a raspberry at you, and gives you a quick kiss. "be careful," he repeats, "and good luck!" he jogs back over to may, and you watch him leave.
jenny giggles as you brush yourself off, "you guys are so cute."
blushing, you murmur a thanks. quickly, you grab your phone to cover up the forming bruise. and there's not really time for another run-through.
all you can do is hope it won't happen again.
there's a small dance at the start of the game and some other here and there, but it's not anything crazy. what is crazy is halftime.
as you get into your position, you fidget. "you'll be great," one of the girls tell you.
"thank you," you smile.
"yeah, no, you will," says another.
you don't feel super ready, not after that fall, but there's not much you can do about it.
the song, louder than before, echoes through your eardrums, a roll of excitement passes through you. no matter how anxious you are, you'll always love cheer.
it's your safe place.
the music swells, and you launch into a series of cheers with your teammates, your voice ringing out in perfect unison. as the routine progresses, you feel the familiar rush of adrenaline. you spot the base of the pyramid, their arms outstretched, and with a deep breath, you allow yourself to be pulled upwards.
their grip is firm and reassuring as you climb, hand over hand, until you reach the apex. a split second later, you're soaring through the air, launching into a full backflip.
you twist perfectly, landing with a confident thud back in the waiting arms of your base. the crowd erupts in cheers, and you beam, the thrill of the successful stunt coursing through you.
you did it, and everyone's squealing. peter's not that far from where you are, and you can hear him shrieking; "that's my girlfriend!"
you grin at him, and he whoops again.
the rest of the game flies by, and you finish the last routine. midtown ends up winning 20-17.
peter scooping you up in his arms, spinning you around. "that was awesome! seriously, like, mind-blown! and you didn't fall this time!"
may comes up beside him, hugging you, "you did fantastic, sweetheart. freaked me out with that fall, though," she chuckles, and you kiss her cheek. "my bad," you tell her, rubbing the back of your neck.
"hey, pete, hun, i'm gonna head out, okay? hospital shift was crazy."
you frown, "was it late?"
may sighs, "two a.m. to five p.m."
"oh, may, you should've gone home to get rest!"
"and miss my lovely girl's big night? you're crazy."
"aww," you coo, hugging her again. "sleep well, okay?"
"oh, please, i'll be knocked out like a baby." you laugh as she leaves.
"we should totally get ice cream," peter says.
"ooh, yes!"
"wait, don't you have an after party?"
"i'd rather spend it with you," peter pecks your lips. "and, we can have extra dessert," he winks.
you frown in confusion, "like cupcakes too? can we get cho- oh. oh! i really, really like that idea."
"good. i'm gonna let you know how badass of a girlfriend you are."
"why don't we skip straight to the second dessert? switch things up?"
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katiapostsss · 3 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐃 . . p. I, anakin skywalker
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🎬//
ˢʸⁿᵒᵖˢⁱˢ:
to conquer your own thoughts, you're forced to begin training with the being who second-handedly started them in the first place. anakin skywalker.
ᶜ ʰ ᵃ ʳ ᵃ ᶜ ᵗ ᵉ ʳ ˢ :
ᵃⁿᵃᵏⁱⁿ ˢᵏʸʷᵃˡᵏᵉʳ x
ᶠᵉᵐ! ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ
warnings! :
swearing, mentions of abuse
part 2 >
〰️
( i have—surprisingly—not watched star wars, so i really do apologize if any of the information is incorrect)
anakin knew nothing about love, though, that was expected.
as a jedi, any love—familial or romantic or even platonic—was strictly warded against. he knew not what it felt like, nor what it even truly was. he prided himself in it, too, the fact that he could so easily discard any unnecessary—unwanted feelings. it was, for so long, a good thing. but during you, it got to be a barbarous curse.
he suspected. he suspected it was indeed love damning his heart, threatening his title, plaguing him. he suspected it was you who was damning him. you and your stupid, fatuous smiles—that were never for him—your heedful eyes. everything about you, perhaps. and it made his skin crawl with what he wished so purely and truly was hate. but it was not. he knew that much, because he had grown to know hate. he had walked by its side and held its hand in battle. out of battle. he knew hate like a brother. this was not hate.
though, he imagined you must've hated him.
maybe he did go a bit too hard on you, a youthful, naïve padawan, too easily distracted, so easily tangled in your own thoughts. it was your one weakness on the battlefield, for you were a skilled warrior, a worthy opponent, despite your abstractedness. any hilt of any blade fit so easily in your hand, like it was your own bone that you wielded. it impressed anakin, truly, that unabashed skill. it was the reason you were his padawan in the first place. but your own emotions would be the death of you if you could not learn to bury them away.
a saber at your legs, the locking of knees, a grunt, and you were on the ground as easily as a lawn chair folding. you groaned loudly, head throbbing and a ringing filling your ears, your backside aching profusely. anakin. stupid. of course he had used that foolish move you hated so much, meant to avert your attention elsewhere. he had looked off to the side, and curious, you had followed his gaze, getting knocked to the dirt not a moment later. hours. it had been so many hours, out in the sun, battling him like he was the sworn enemy he made himself in your eyes, and sweat was slipping down your back, and your limbs were so weak, and your joints groaned and protested against any movement you executed. disgruntled and uncaring of the mess you most definitely looked, you dropped your arms to the ground, giving up entirely.
"one would think you'd finally stop falling for that trick after using it on you for so long." you faintly heard across from you, anakin's arms now crossed tightly over his chest and his eyes boring into your own, dull ones, which were half-lidded and begging for rest. your entire body was begging for rest, as were your thoughts. even the stark ground below you seemed oh so comfortable at that moment. "training does not include sleeping, ace."
"don't call me that," you managed to wheeze. ace. a nickname he had deemed you when you had first started your practices. he never told you why, even when you asked. some research told you it was another way of saying, "best", or, "top", which might've been a compliment if it weren't coming from him. you snarled in his face about it the very next morning. "and one would think you'd finally stop using it once you realized i'd always fall for it."
on shaky—embarrassingly so—limbs, you propped yourself up onto your elbows, promptly panting. anakin's eyes narrowed, face contorting into that of disappointment. you knew that expression so well. it was what kept you up at night, what haunted your dreams like a monster under a child's bed.
"one day," he replied simply, extending a gloved hand to help you up. as if you needed it. (you did). eyes narrowing, you proved to him exactly how stupid he was for being disappointed, struggling very thoroughly to a stand without his help. your legs shook beneath you, as limp as saturated noddles.
"one day that is not today. can we be done here?" you croaked, eyes still staring daggers at him. anakin scowled, shaking his head.
"have you been using the methods?" of course he didn't answer your question. instead, he asked his own. you rolled your eyes, shifting.
"no, i have not. i find them to be useless."
"they are not useless," he countered. the sun was bleating at the back of your head, so hot you felt you might collapse. "if you had used them at all after yesterday's lessons, you would've known that."
"i tried."
"don't lie."
you pursed your lips, your nose scrunching. "my apologies."
anakin weighed a look.
"master," you added, tilting your head down, your eyes swimming with stark vitriol. "my apologies, master."
a moment passed of silence so tangible with angered tension you felt you might drown in it. your throat was caked with dryness, that even swallowing was no use. you needed water. desperately. your teacher looked skeptically at you, and you sent the look right back.
"i expect you to be here tomorrow. at the same time." a groan of relief nearly parted your lips at his words, legs already moving to leave.
"yes, master," you quickly threw out, turning on your heel and walking away, shoulders painfully bunched as the look on your face. his eyes on your retreating figure was the last thing you felt of him before you were out of sight.
---
you didn't know why you hated anakin skywalker.
well, technically you did. you blamed him for it. for that feeling, that stupid, stupid feeling within you. of nothingness. of emptiness. of hollowed-out bone. that feeling that drove you to tears every night. you'd never be good. you'd never be better. your own mother had stated it.
the only thing you remembered of your childhood was palms, raw from being beaten. beaten because you were too sensitive. hours of training, bordering torture, and every time you so much as made a mistake, made a pained face, made a sound of protest, you were to go without dinner, and you were to be beaten. it was why you were so good. you had to learn how to be good if you didn't want to be hit. and that was the only thing you could thank your mother for. your skill.
skills you hated. you didn't hate fighting, but you hated training. you hated failure. each time you fell or grunted or cried out, you half-expected anakin to pull out a ruler and beat your palms bloody, or make you hang from a tree until your shoulders popped out of their sockets, only to pop them right back in and send you to bed without any dinner or medicine. you hated failing. and anakin made you fail.
he was too good. you weren't narcissistic, no. you weren't envious either. not of his talent. he could flaunt it around for all you cared, but you hated losing to him. it reminded you too much of a past you buried deep within you. you weren't an angry person, but for him, you would be.
so you blamed him. and you'd blame anyone in his position. maybe it wasn't his fault. in your eyes, it was. and it would stay that way. you'd hate him and he'd go the rest of his life knowing it, but never knowing to what extent it ran to.
a week had passed since that lesson and you were no better.
your failings were a jealous, conniving friend, incessantly whispering in your ear hateful words to knock you to the ground as anakin did so seamlessly. now, hours after training had ended and you had been dismissed, you still seemed so filthy, even freshly washed, like your soul was the one contaminating your skin, not the dirt that had once matted your hair.
words. there were so many words. you couldn't shut them out. they were a ringing in your ears, they were a reminder in the mirror. the mirror you refused to look at but somehow managed to every now and then. tears sprung to your eyes. so many words. when you stared at your reflection, all you saw was your mother. that only hurt more.
so instead, you stared at your ceiling, sprawled out on your bed, trying and failing to lull your thoughts into that of nothingness. it was no use. it never would be. it was far, far into the night when you fell asleep, finally succumbing to unconsciousness solely because your body demanded it, even when your whirling mind protested against it.
what woke you up was him. him. anakin. a good thing to wake up to, indeed. his face was like a curse, to damn you to a horrible day for the rest of it. but... what? why was he...?
"how was your sleep?" he asked from his place leaning against the doorframe. you shot up in bed, rubbing your eyes and willing your mind into consciousness.
"huh?"
"you slept in," he deadpanned. you stopped, dropping your hands at your sides and groaning, your head falling against your headboard.
"can we postpone—"
"no."
you pursed your lips, eyes narrowing at his damned face. you did not give one flying fuck about the skimpy silk nightgown you had donned earlier last night as you hastily stepped out of bed, watching his eyes slip down your form, widen, and quickly look the other way.
"gonna watch a woman change, too? pervert."
anakin threw you one last, angry stare before stepping out the door and shutting it behind him.
---
"you're dismissed."
"thank you master."
the only thing you planned to do when you got back to your chambers was sleep. to make up for lost time. time anakin had so rudely ripped from you.
pushing open your door, you nearly fell onto your mattress just at the sight of the bed, so beautiful and white and comfortable and soft. so unlike the ground you had hit over and over again minutes earlier. but you couldn't sleep yet. not when you were coated in thick mud. not when your hair was riddled with it, matted and tangled. so instead, you made yourself turn to your bathroom, strip yourself of your fighting leathers, and turn on the shower. while it heated, you risked a glance at the mirror above your sink, and scowled at who looked back.
it took a good 30 minutes to rid yourself of your earlier endeavors. every time you thought you were clean, you looked down only to see brown water flowing down the drain. by the time you were out, the bathroom's air was stuffy and suffocating and wet, struggling down your throat. you did not bother tying up your soaking hair, only pulling on some sleeping attire and crawling into bed. sleep hit you immediately.
but you should've known.
a few hours later, you awoke in a sea of sheets and blankets and warmth. too much warmth. sweat was slipping down your back, your skin chilled with a cold breeze, your mind a whirlwind. almost immediately, you shot out of bed, tripping over your blanket and stumbling across the floor. you couldn’t breathe enough. you were suffocating on nothing. the ground at your feet was freezing, biting, but your skin was nothing at that moment, your nerves weren’t there. you couldn’t feel, not as you tripped into your desk and nearly fell into the bathroom, chest heaving and eyes wide. not as you flipped on your sink and watched icy water gush out, hitting the porcelain with a prompt sound you couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears.
on any other day, you would’ve reared back from the freezing water, immobilizing your hands when they cupped together and gathered it, but the only thought running through your head was your earlier dream, still haunting you, even when you were awake. without giving yourself time to think, you splashed the cool liquid onto your face, again and again and again, until your eyes were blurry with invading water. it dripped onto the tiled floor when you turned, blindly searched for the towel rack, and grabbed the cloth strung on it, oddly warm in your shaking hands. you wiped the remaining droplets off of your skin, wiped away the ones that had traveled to your elbows, below your shirt, on your neck. you barely recognized the person who looked back at you in the mirror when you turned around once again. it scared you. your lip quivered, the face of fear, and you stared hopelessly into your own eyes until you couldn’t handle it anymore. you turned on your heel and walked out, in search of someone in particular.
you didn't let yourself think about it. the whole walk. especially when your mind was buzzing and your hands were shaking at your sides, bags beneath your eyes and face pale.
you found anakin talking to padmé, someone you did not know too well but had grown to know the presence of. the sun was sinking in the cloudy sky, swimming into dusk.
"y/n," she greeted upon seeing your approaching figure. you smiled, dipping your head in a warm acknowledgment, which was anything but warm. anakin beside her was staring at you like you'd just told him the world was ending at his feet. "how are you, my friend?"
she was so kind. too kind. you intertwined your fingers in front of you, hoping your smile was believable. "who could not be simply ecstatic with such weather and life thriving around us?"
padmé huffed a laugh, her eyes bright as the sun over her shoulder. "ah, yes. it is quite lovely. are you in need of something?"
finally, finally, you looked to anakin, who was staring strangely at you. who had stayed quiet this whole time. "yes, actually. may i steal master away from you for a moment?"
and his heart nearly stopped in his chest. you? why? what? a breath stuttered in his lungs, his brows raising in confusion. padmé looked to him, then back to you, perfectly unaware. "why, of course! no need to ask," she quickly approved, her smile something you wished your own could be. "have a good rest of your day." and she was gone.
both of you were quiet a moment, looking at each other with equal surprise. surprise on his part that you had asked for his presence. surprise on your part that you had asked for his presence.
surprise about what you were about to ask next.
"yes, y/n? is something amiss—"
"teach me the methods." even more surprise. anakin's lips parted in silent shock, the only sign he was shocked at all save for the ever so slight widen of his eyes. even you were bewildered that you were asking. but there was no other solution for the thoughts in your head. he was right. they needed to be shut down. they needed to be locked away, for they were what caused your failings, and they in turn, accumulated because you failed.
"pardon—?"
"the methods." your hands had unlatched from each other, now flexed in front of you and moving with your words. "for— for my emotions."
anakin looked at you for another moment. strangely. so strangely. he opened his mouth and you nearly winced, tensing, and relaxing once he closed it again. he looked... confused. you understood completely why. and when he dipped his head in a slight nod, turned on his heel and expected you to follow, you were briefly grateful he hadn't teased or asked any further questions. no. not briefly. immensely.
you both walked. and walked. you silently pondered where he was leading you to, but did not inquire out loud. at some point, it became clear that he was guiding you to the place you normally trained. when he finally stopped and turned, you stood in the same place you had only a few hours before.
you finally cleared your throat. "i thought the methods did not include battling—"
"they will soon, when you master them enough to apply them to fighting," he responded before you could even finish. it was so weird, this new tension. not an hour ago, it was snarky comments and rude stares, but now, it was unadulterated seriousness and unwavering stoicism. you felt anakin assess your body, and you involuntarily shifted into your fighting stance, hastily bringing yourself out of it again. "this is where we will practice. we could apply them to your lessons—"
"no," you quickly jumped, which was more instinct than choice. after lessons, you did not want to have to focus on your breathing or bodily control. you wanted to sleep. deeply and thoroughly. anakin quickly scrunched his eyebrows together. "i meant— is there any other time?"
"in the afternoon, yes. is this something you want to do daily?" he asked, and you swallowed down thickness in your throat.
"yes," came the tentative and choked-out answer. he nodded, lips pursing. you were briefly worried he'd continue with his questions, specifically why you wanted to do this. but he didn't. he just sighed through his nose and straightened, and the lesson begun.
---
it was long. and time-consuming. and just slightly annoying.
you couldn't get yourself to focus the way the instructions called for. acknowledge your surroundings and let those thoughts go, they stated. but you couldn't do that. it was supposed to help with distraction, and it took a while for it to actually work. anakin was seated beside you, facing you, while you sat straight ahead. his hands cradled your back and torso, keeping your posture straightened after he had reminded you one too many times to be mindful of it.
beneath his touch, it was difficult not to squirm. you never really touched boys before. save for training, of course. other than that, you never had a reason to. anakin's hands all over you was a plague you weren't sure you were happy about catching. his voice rang through your ears, counting. each time you shook your head, telling him you'd lost track of your breaths and had gotten distracted again, he restarted.
"8.... 9... 10." finally. you couldn't stop now. you'd been working at this for hours. "okay, now let your mind go again." he spoke, and you eased back into yourself. thoughts and colors and feelings exploded all around you, all things you had somehow managed to block out. it was like flying through clear skies and then having your wings clipped midair, plummeting, plummeting, plummeting, until you hit the ground. your eyes shot open, immediately widening, and you looked off to the side, where anakin smiled openly and proudly at you.
"you did it." because you did. for the first time possibly ever, you grinned back at him.
when it was all over, it was late into the night.
the walk back was silent. you didn't speak, and neither did he. not about your earlier lessons or the ones to come. or the fact that this meant most of your day would be spent with him. it made your stomach flip. for reasons you didn't want to ponder over.
later, you stared at your ceiling once again. night was bleeding into dawn like ink on a wet piece of paper. you tried the method. to fall asleep. just to see if it'd work.
it did not.
.
hi. if i still have your attention, i want to use it to talk about what's going on in gaza. during the superbowl, the last safe zone was bombed by israelis who lured innocent palestinians to it, claiming it was what would keep them safe from their advances. everyone who went there died.
everyday, people die in gaza and other parts of palestine by the hands of israelis. their forces are dying off, they have nothing. no hospitals, food, running water. absolutely nothing.
there are many ways you can help. i assure you, you do not need starbucks to live. if you care even a bit for the children who suffer everyday, for the men who die and the women who are tortured, you will forget about your pink drink or your coffee, and you will help boycott. you do not need even a penny to support palestine, you just need to start refusing service of those restaurants.
a man lit himself on fire, as well, as a last cry for help and a protestation. for gaza. he lit himself on fire, and the israeli force's first instinct was to lift their guns and threaten to shoot him. while he was burning to death. it's worse than you think, and if you support israel, i ask that you get off of my page.
there are so many people on instagram and youtube and tiktok that you can follow, so many things you can do without spending a penny. i ask that you please help. nothing will change if we don't.
free palestine 🇵🇸
.
| part 2 >
@kingdomhate :)
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ghostybaby000 · 26 days
Text
He found you. Again. | Part 3
part 1 part 2
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Paring: Simon Ghost Riley x reader
Summary: I suggest going back to part one to really understand this plot! There’s a link above
Warnings: 18+,blood, violence, stabbing, guns, stalker, symptoms of panic
Word count: 1.5k
(Not fully edited, apologies for any incorrect information!)
Although it sounded foolish you had flashbacks to watching your investigative shows. The shows where situations like this happened in almost every episode, and thats what it should be- just an episode on the T.V. not something that you should be enduring why, why did this have to happe-
‘Are you listening to me Y/N? I came this far for you, don’t you see!’ He had stopped pacing, he was now staring you down, when he finally took a second to see what you held. 
He let out a small laugh, and then his expression turned to stone.
‘Why do you have that Y/N, you don’t need that-you wouldn’t hurt me. The lamp, I can forgive because maybe you didn’t know it was me but, now you do, you can see it’s me and I…’
His voice trailed off, and all you saw was his anger boiling over when he reached to his side leading his hand to rest on a gun.
‘Drop the wrench Y/N. Drop it NOW and I won’t have to hurt you, I would never want to hurt you y-you just need to see that- so go on and drop the wrench….’
He unholsters the gun, shaking and holding it in his hand to his side. He has tears welting up in his eyes and you decide to try and coarse him, as the panic surges inside you and you aren’t quite sure that you can even move. You think back on the shows where you are meant to play into their mind games, and not fight it as it usually didn’t end well. You slowly lower yourself to the floor, forcing your fingers to each let go of your only weapon as you exercise your acting skills.
‘You’re right. You wouldn’t hurt me, never…Y-You’ve looked out for me for so long an-
‘Don’t be sarcastic with me. It isn’t funny and it doesn’t work-‘ The gun now knocking on his bouncing leg, you can see his white knuckles gripping it tighter now as he stands there waiting for your response shifting his weight.
‘I’m not being sarcastic, I’ve known you for so long and you were there that night at my house-‘ You start to take a small step towards him, when he backs away.
‘Don’t play games with me Y/N- I-I’m not in the mood for you to be messing with me- I’ve finally gotten you here all to myself I don’t want to lose it.’ He’s moving the gun between his hands when he moves towards you, making you step back.
‘You really are afraid…you-you don’t see it…you don’t get why I was at your house’ He begins to be refilled again with anger and he’s speaking so loud now he’s spitting at you.
‘You don’t see the struggles I’ve gone through to get to you, you don’t know the years I spent in training and trying to find you. I just wanted to be with you again why WHY don’t you see that!?’ He stops for a moment now only about a foot away from you, you can smell him- a smell that reeks of sweat and desperation. He moves closer to you, staring into your eyes you look away towards anywhere but him furrowing your brows in fear, wrong move. The cold metal of the gun now pushing your head back up to meet his gaze.
‘I want to have you with me, whenever and wherever.’ He was now staring through your sole, and that’s when you saw him. 
In your peripheral vision you saw Ghost, his mask making his identity obvious, a wave of relief waiting now to wash over you. He was inside the door and making his away behind the kitchen, moving the small table out of the way. The same table you now realize would have been in your way had you tried to run for the door. You couldn’t bear to look, knowing that he would probably spin to see what you were looking at and it would only become worse.  Ghost disappeared into another portion of the room behind a wall that couldn’t be seen so you made your move.
You tore from his gaze with the gun to your head, looking at where the front door was. He leans in closer to you, the gun still a dangerous distance from your head as he speaks. 
‘That means, Y/N- that you aren’t leaving. You can’t, it’s so SO simple how do you not understand this, me, why I’m here now for YOU.’ He grabs you by the throat with his free hand just strong enough so that you could tell he was deciding whether to strangle you or not, until you just about pass out. He forces you upright, moving your face to look at him him as he slightly loosened his grip.
‘Do you understand?’ You nodded your head as vigorously as you can while still being held tightly, tears welting in your eyes. Your hands were wrapped around his now, trying to prevent it from further strangling your neck.
‘Say it, say you understand me.’ His stare piercing through you now.
‘Yes, yes I understand you’ You manage to squeak out, hoping that he doesn’t hurt you and will let you go if you play along.
‘Good.’  His grip loosens as you let out a few coughs to clear your throat. He hesitates before letting you entirely go, and decides to hold your upper arm so you couldn’t flee.
‘Now let’s get to bed- I didn’t want to come this late into the night, but it was the only way I could be sure you were alone. It’s late and you have work tomorrow…go- move…’
 You were almost sick then knowing that he had so much information about you, when you had been so careful. You hadn’t seen any sight of Ghost, and thought for a moment that it may have been your imagination trying to tell you that you were saved, still stuck in fight or flight mode you couldn’t muster the urge to speak, and instead mumbled a small ‘Mmhmm’
He walked behind you, not letting go of your arm and leading you to your room, the gun still in his other hand. You try to think about what you can do to get away, maybe once he’s asleep you’ll be able to leave. Maybe you can try to seduce him and then knee him and flee, maybe you had a good enough weapon in the room but when would you find time to get it? 
He’s made the way to the door now closed, that leads to your bedroom. He didn’t notice that it wasn’t closed before and decides to reach past you to open it. Your room was already dark, having not turned on any lights you notice the rampage that had torn your room apart. Standing in the door frame you saw the closet was a mess and there were things all over the floor. You crept towards the bed, just getting out of his arms when it all happens. It feels like milliseconds to you, but in real time it lasted a few minutes. 
Within a second the attacker had been outmatched. Ghost made his way directly behind him, and was pulling him backwards and down to the floor in a headlock. He had been in many hand-to-hand combats with men his own size or larger and given he usually had a gun, he had to make it more personal this time. The gun shot out making you shriek out and scurry towards the closet, your hearing ringing due to being in such a confined space. The attacker now choking and stammering backwards the gun cast aside to free his other hand, clawing at Ghosts arms to be let go of. There was a struggle you heard as boots stomped in the hall and hands were hitting the walls, groans and other noises flooded your still sensitive and ringing ears.
You could tell it wasn’t an easy fight, not that any ever was between two stronger men of similar height, Ghost being slightly taller and you hoped stronger-you peered out in the hall with baited breath. To your satisfaction, Ghost was now on top of the attacker in the office space down the hall, pummeling him with his gloved hands relentlessly. You made a quick inhale and retreat around the corner you were peering from which was enough to distract him from his beatings and slowly back off the man. You backed away further into the bedroom, watching as Ghost paused to checked the man wasn’t moving and then walked towards you. 
You were relieved to have the one attacker off of you, but upon seeing his merciless beating you now also felt nervous to be in his wake. You reach the wall on the other side of your room as he makes his way through the door frame. You started to close your eyes not telling If you were afraid now of him, or of being on the verge of breaking down worse than ever. Within a few seconds he had made his way across the room, his boots giving his location away for being a few feet in front of you.
‘c’mon’ His low accented voice allowed you to exhale. 
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All The Ways To Say “You Mean The World To Me”
Alhaitham x female reader
Warnings -> Fluff, use of several different languages (Google translate was involved so apologies if anything is incorrect), one comfort scene
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The lamp on the desk provided ample light, the patter of rain hitting the window filling the quiet study. Paper crinkled as pages turned, teal-brown eyes soaked up information and filed it away for later. A warm cup of coffee filled the air with a pleasant aroma, the steam rising from the cup setting a cozy mood. The house was silent, not a peep from his roommate who may or may not have left the house already.
The creak of the door opening couldn’t be missed, nor could the quiet tapping of shoes against the wooden floor. “All this time we’ve been together and only now am I finding out you can speak multiple languages?”
The scribe didn’t look up from his book, but that didn’t stop the woman from taking a seat in the chair across from him. She crossed her arms and rested them on the surface of the table, waiting for a reply.
Alhaitham turned the page. “It never came up.”
“Could have come up while we were getting to know each other. I told you about my treasured stuffed bear from my dad, yet somehow, you completely missed that aspect of yourself.”
His gaze finally lifted to meet hers. “You do know I graduated from Haravatat, right? I thought my knowledge in languages would have been a given.”
(Y/N) puffed her cheeks out in a way that reminded him of the pufferfish swimming in the river near Port Ormos. “You and I both know you’re the smart one in the relationship, not me.” Her eyes suddenly lit up, lips curling into a grin as she reached across the table to place her hands on top of his. “Say something romantic in another language.”
“Why?”
She bounced in her seat. “Please?”
Alhaitham sighed and flipped his hand so he could properly hold hers. He thought for a moment, then, he spoke. “Poté den tha agapíso perissótero tin antanáklasí mou ótan emfanisteí sta mátia sou.”
𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴.
(Y/N) giggled as her hand squeezed his. “What does that mean?”
“It means you spend too much time with my roommate, and that he’s a bad influence on you.”
Her shoulders dropped, lips pulling into a pout. “You suck.”
Alhaitham lifted her hand and placed a kiss against her knuckles, then went back to reading. “If you would like to borrow a few of my old books, you are more then welcome to translate what I said yourself.”
“No, forget it. Something tells me I’d rather not know.” Pulling free from his grasp, she stood up. “But, thanks to you, I lost my bet with Kaveh so I’m off to suffer defeat now. Bye bye.”
She spun on her heel and skipped out the door. (Y/N) came into his life like a whirlwind and the winds haven’t been calm since. Though, at this point, the man felt a silent breeze would be eerie.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sight of (Y/N) in the kitchen was much more welcome then walking in to find the other resident raiding a fridge he didn’t fill. Any room she was in took on a new sense of home, but in the early morning light, surrounded by the smell of coffee and breakfast, Alhaitham was slowly but surely starting to associate the first hours of a new day with this woman.
Alhaitham walked up behind (Y/N) as she stood at the counter chopping up a bell pepper and wrapped his arms around her waist, chin falling to rest on her shoulder.
She jumped, the knife almost falling from her hand. “Archons, Alhaitham! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Sorry. I thought you heard me coming.” He kissed the side of her neck as an apology. “Cítíš se tak dobře v mém náručí.”
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴.
(Y/N) snorted and added the diced peppers into the egg mixture. “What did you say this time? That the egg to pepper ratio is off?”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “No. I said I’ll start making the coffee.”
“Good, make yourself useful.” Pulling open the cabinet above her head, she grabbed a mug and held it out. “You know how I like mine.”
The scribe chuckled and took the mug, giving her waist a gentle squeeze before releasing her. “Pokud jsi teď tak drzý, nemůžu se dočkat, až uvidím, jak odvážný se staneš, když ti navléknu prsten na prst.”
𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳.
“What was that?” The woman asked, shooting him a pointed look.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey,” The sound of his roommate’s voice almost made him scowl. “(Y/N) just got here. She looks upset.”
Leaving the sentence he was reading unfinished, Alhaitham set his bookmark between the pages and closed the cover. “Where is she?”
Kaveh, who was leaning against the doorframe, jerked his head towards the hallway. “She went straight to your room. I tried to ask what was bothering her, but I guess she needs her boyfriend more then her childhood friend right now.”
Alhaitham ignored the venom that slipped out with the word ‘boyfriend’. He could understand Kaveh’s frustration to some extent - the blond, much like everyone else, had no idea romantic feelings would spark between his best friend and non-preferred roommate. If he thought something like this would happen in advance, he never would have started inviting her over.
Walking past Kaveh, Alhaitham navigated the house until he reached the door connecting to his bedroom. He turned the handle and entered, immediately spotting a figure sitting on his bed, the blanket covering them completely.
Closing the door, he approached and sat on the side of the bed. “Are you going to hide under there all evening, or would you like to share what’s got you so upset?”
His choice of words weren’t the gentlest but his tone was soft and his volume low. (Y/N) never seemed to mind his blunt way of communicating, but early on he learned that while his choice of words didn’t phase her, his tone did. The worst argument they’ve ever had revolved around such a thing.
The blanketed figure sniffled. “It’s just been a bad day, Alhaitham. I was told my presentation was cancelled only to learn that the professor choose to replace me with someone else instead. I’ve spent months putting this presentation on behalf of my darshan together for the little ones.”
You didn’t need to explain - Alhaitham knew how excited you were when the Akademiya contacted you with the offer, he knew how dedicated you were when selecting the topic and angle you wanted to take, knew the hours you sacrificed researching and fact-checking. He knew how bad you wanted this, and part of him felt that if he had agreed to become grand sage, he could have prevented this. ‘No. This isn’t anyone’s fault. It’s just how things happened.’
“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I know how badly you wanted this opportunity.” Alhaitham wasn’t the bed at comforting others. His expertise laid in fact and logic, not soothing words. “I doubt it was personal. The reason for the switch could simply be because the Akademiya determined the other party’s research to be more compelling.”
Finally, she pulled the blanket off her head and let it fall around her shoulders. Her cheeks were damp with smeared tears, eyes still glossy. “I can accept that, as much as it hurts. I want my darshan to be represented it’s best to the youth. It’s what the scholar said that’s bothering me more…”
The scribe titled his head. “Go on.”
She lowered her gaze. “She said I was an embarrassment. Not only to the Akademiya, but to you, too.” A short, pitiful laugh escaped her. “I don’t know what’s more pathetic. The fact that I’m so bothered by it, or the fact that it’s true.”
“That is not true. Not in the slightest.” Alhaitham said with a shake of his head. “You have more then proven that you deserve the standing you have within the Akademiya. As for me, when have I ever cared for outside opinions? The only voices that matter regarding our relationship is ours.” He paused. “Have you ever been embarrassed of me?”
She shook her head. “No, of course not. I’m proud to have you, Alhaitham.”
“I share the same sentiment.” Cupping her wet cheeks in his hands, he wiped the tear steaks away with his thumbs. “Wenn jemand in mein Leben treten und mich dazu bringen musste, mich zu verlieben, bin ich froh, dass du es warst.”
𝘐𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
Tilting her head down a little, he leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss just below her hairline. He felt her posture relax as she hummed.
“Are you ever gonna tell me what it is you’re really saying?” She asked.
“When I feel like it.” He smiled at her. “Just be patient. One day, you’ll know.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
The skies of Sumeru were painted in pastels of pink and purple, highlighted with gold as it stretched over the rainforest. The river sparkled beneath the light of dusk, the sounds and smells of nature pleasant background noise. Alhaitham sat in the grass, his back against a tree, one hand holding a book while the other traced shapes onto the thigh of the woman sitting between his legs. She leaned against his chest, absorbed in a book of her own.
Reaching a good stopping point, Alhaitham glanced at the sky and calculated how much daylight he would have left. ‘Better get to it now.’
He closed his book and set it on the ground next to him. His movements pulled the woman from her story. “Are you ready to go?”
“Not just yet. I have something for you, actually.”
Reaching for the bag he brought with him on this outing, he pulled out a leather notebook and waited for her to set her book down before passing it off. Alhaitham couldn’t see her face, but he could perfectly picture the confused look she was undoubtedly wearing.
Alhaitham watched over her shoulder as she removed the strap that kept the journal closed and opened it. The first page, and dozens of other pages laying in wait to be read, were filled with his handwriting. To be more specific…
(Y/N) gasped suddenly. “No way. Is this…?” She quickly flipped through a few more pages as if checking to be sure. “Are these translations?”
The scribe hummed. “Of everything I’ve ever said to you in foreign languages? Yes.”
“I can’t believe this.” Her voice was quiet with disbelief but so full of astonishment. “All this time, all these years, you’ve been writing this stuff down. Why not just tell me what you were saying in the moment?”
“Because I was waiting for today.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her further against him. “Go to the last page.”
She did without question, but once she reached it, her head titled in confusion. “You didn’t translate this one.”
“I figured you would prefer it if I translated that one in person.” Alhaitham said, removing one of his arms from her waist so he could reach into his pouch. “Visne me nubere?’ It’s a simple question, but the most important question anyone can ask their partner. To translate,” Flipping the lid of the little black box open, he presented her with the ring. “𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘦, (𝘠/𝘕)?”
(Y/N) gasped again and clasped a hand over her mouth, body turning so she could stare at him with watery eyes. “Are you freaking serious?”
“Would I have bought you a ring if I wasn’t?”
She squealed and threw her weight into him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you, Alhaitham!”
A weight lifted off his shoulders as he gave her body a gentle squeeze, face burying in the crook between his neck and shoulder as he breathed his fiancée in. “I love you, (Y/N). So, so much.”
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘓𝘦𝘵’𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?
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npdclaraoswald · 4 months
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Another crosspost from my Instagram! Original caption:
Black Superheroes for Black History Month!!!💥📖📚
Normally I split this type of post in two, one with characters I've already read and loved and one with characters I want to read in the future. But I haven't read too much DC, and BDS is still calling for a boycott against Marvel while the Captain America 4 movie plans to contain Sabra, a character who is Israeli propaganda personified, and I don't want to promote any Marvel characters while that is going on. So, we have a DC only edition. The only characters in this list that I've read at least one full book for are Connor, Duke, and Virgil, so I apologize if there's any incorrect information.
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