#and that was me to some degree for a good long while

[zepskies]

Every Second Counts - Part 2

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

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

AN: I decided to put this chapter out a bit early due to some Father's Day stuff tomorrow. I was blown away by the response from you guys on Part 1!! Thank you so much. 🥰 I had some trepidation writing a new character, but I'm so glad you guys seem to enjoy where this little series is going so far. It makes me even more excited to bring you the next chapter of ESC! 💜

Song Inspo: “Too Late” by The Paper Kites

Word Count: 5.3K

Tags/Warnings: Shaw family feels, a bit of mystery, tinge of fluff and mutual pining, and a twist…

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 2: “Family Reunion”

The next day after he left, you finally managed to get Charlie on the phone. He implored you not to try and find him.

He claimed he was staying with a friend for now, and was picking up some odd jobs through a connection at the museum—another security guard who knew how to get extra work. 

“What kind of extra work?” you asked. You sunk back into the couch in your living room and held a hand to your aching head. You had already lost sleep over this, worrying about where he was and what the hell he was doing.

“It’s better that you don’t know,” Charlie said.

He really knew how to frustrate you to the nth degree.

“Charlie, just come home. Please,” you said. Tears burned in your eyes, choking your words. “I’m sorry for what I said, okay? We’ll figure this out together, I promise.”

You heard him sigh.

“You had a right to be mad,” he said. “I’m the big brother, remember? But I’m…I’m a fucking mess. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”

“We take care of each other, and you know that,” you said sharply, wiping at your eyes in frustration.

“Listen, I’ll come home when I can, okay? Be good.”

“Charlie! Ch—” The call ended, and you nearly tossed your phone in aggravation.

“That stubborn fucking idiot,” you muttered.

Four months later, your worry was eating you alive.

Charlie refused to come home or tell you where he was staying. The only time you got to see him was when you visited him on his night shift at the museum. You tried to talk him into coming home, but your brother remained stubborn.

“You get that from Dad,” you’d told him once, while watching him eat some leftover meatloaf you’d made for him. The two of you stood outside the museum on his break.

Charlie had smirked at you. “Yeah, well, you share the disease.”

You’d rolled your eyes at that.

But just when you thought you were starting to get through to him, now, he’d stopped answering your calls. For that matter, the museum hadn’t even seen or heard from him in a week or so.

So here you sat, in the living room of Dory’s apartment, crying into a jar of Nutella that you’d long ago stopped spreading over the strawberries she’d laid out. You had a chocolate-covered butterknife in one hand and a used Kleenex in the other.

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t want necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

You hadn’t had a chance to meet him when he dropped in a couple of months ago, but she’d told you about his brief visit to find a graduate student who had been kidnapped, and nearly killed by a professor in the Sciences department for uncovering a flaw in the man’s research. That flaw would have costed him his entire grant, and possibly his career and reputation. 

The terrible incident had caused an uproar on campus. Students were released from their classes for an entire day after the professor was arrested. 

Now, Dory considered your question with a thoughtful nod. “I’ll call him.”

You were grateful, but your face became pained as something occurred to you. You held up a hand.

“Wait, I just realized I can’t pay him,” you said. You didn’t have more than a thousand dollars in your savings account, and that was for emergencies. Like the time Charlie nearly burned the house down after a lighting mishap with his bong.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about that,” Dory said. She laid a comforting hand on your arm. “He’d do this as a favor to me.”

“I don’t know,” you replied, your brows furrowing. “That’s a pretty big favor.”

She’d told you what some of Colter’s fees could run up to, but she tried to quell your reservations and promised to call him regardless.

However, the more you thought about it, you already had a phone number in your cell…for the one person who would understand the part of your brother that you might never be able to. 

After you left Dory’s apartment, you debated the idea in your head for the entire drive home. 

And when you got to the house, you picked up your cell, and you called him. Your nerves had you pacing back and forth across the living room as it rang. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help smiling just at the sound of his voice, smooth and pleased, and a hint surprised.

“Hey,” you replied, biting your lip. “How are you?”

“I’m good. You’ve got good timing too. I just came off a job,” he said.

“Oh really? Where are you?”

“Well, I’m states-side now. Just got back from South America.”

“Oh, wow,” you said, blinking incredulously.

What the hell was he doing there? you had to wonder. Maybe he was protecting some Latin American emissary. Or maybe, he was doing things you didn’t want to think about. Your brother had filled you in a bit about civilian contract jobs in recent weeks, as he’d considered going after those himself.

“They can pay very well, from what I hear,” Charlie had said. “The problem with that is, it kind of defeats the purpose of leaving the military.”

Despite that mildly troubling thought, you tried to focus on the fact that you had this man on the phone at all.

A smile formed across your lips. “Did you get yourself a nice tan?”

“Eh, not really. Was more of a night job,” he said. “But uh…how are you doing? Not gonna lie, I’m surprised to hear from you.”

“Yeah, I’m…I’m not all that good, if I’m honest,” you said.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. You heard the concern in his voice. You steeled yourself before you answered.

“Russell, I’m sorry, but I need to ask you for a big favor.”

“Hmm, this sounds serious,” he said.

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed. When you next took a breath, it came out unsteady. “My brother’s missing.”

It was a bright Saturday morning when you welcomed Russell Shaw into your house. He looked around, finding family pictures, bookshelves, paintings, candles, all things that began to shade in who you were in the comfort of your home.

“It’s nice,” he said. “It’s uh, homey.”

You smiled and closed the door behind him.

“Well, it’s the house we grew up in,” you replied.

You and Charlie had of course inherited it after your parents’ passing. Their life insurance policies had helped pay off the three-bedroom house while you two were still in school. Your grandparents helped a lot back then too, and had even moved in for a time. Now they each had plots beside your parents at Grandview Cemetery.

“You want some coffee? I know you had a long drive,” you asked.

“Sure,” Russell agreed. He followed you to the kitchen, where you put on the coffee pot. You made a discreet glance at him. He looked virtually the same, with that familiar green jacket, jeans, boots, and a Jimi Hendrix shirt. You'd had a feeling he was a classic rock guy.

“Look, not that I wasn’t glad to get your call,” Russell said, “but you do know that I’m not the tracker in the family, right?”

“Dory did offer to call Colter, but I can’t afford to pay him,” you said.

“I could help with that,” said Russell. You raised up a hand to stop him there.

“I don’t want that kind of help from you,” you said firmly. “I didn’t call you for money, Russell. I called you because you’ll probably understand where Charlie’s head’s at. Better than me, anyway.”

He hesitated, but nodded in understanding. When the coffeemaker dinged, finished percolating, you turned to make him a mug with cream and sugar, as per his request.

While he waited for the coffee to cool, he admired you for a moment. Even in a plain V-neck shirt and a pair of jeans, your hair swung up in a ponytail, you were still a sight. (Your lipstick did match your shirt though. That made him smile.)

And Russell could admit, it was good to see you again.

“Me and Colter reconnected recently. Did Dory tell you?” he said.

Your brows raised high in surprise. “Oh yeah?”

The two of you found your way back to the living room with your mugs.

“Yeah. We talked for the first time in…shit, over twenty years,” Russell laughed, raking a hand through his hair.

Not only had he been able to say his piece to Colter about their…family issues, they’d also solved a case of their own, with Colter agreeing to help him find his friend Doug, who worked for the same black ops contract agency as Russell. The Horizon Group.

The aftermath of that still left Russell with a bitter taste in his mouth when he thought of how Horizon would’ve left Doug to rot, if it hadn’t been for him and Colter pressing their luck and digging deeper into who’d taken his friend.

That whole mess had also made Russell begin to wonder if maybe he needed a new line of work after all. But, because the money was just that good, he’d ended up on a new job by the end of the month.

Your voice soon broke him from his thoughts.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you said. You reached over and touched his arm, with warmth in your eyes. 

Russell gave you a smile. The closeness between you brought up memories of that dusty bar, and the taste of lime and tequila on your soft, supple lips. But you subtly cleared your throat and took your hand back. He hid a twinge of disappointment.

“So what’s going on with your brother?” Russell asked.

Get back on track, he reminded himself.

You sighed. “Damn Charlie.”

Over coffee, you explained that Charlie took off a few months ago, the night you got back from the bar. You had seen him only briefly, whenever you were able to catch him at the museum after work. He’d been keeping in touch with you on a weekly basis, but now, he hadn’t called in almost two weeks. You couldn’t get ahold of him on any of the numbers you had. They all seemed to be burner phones. Plus, he’d been let go from his job at the museum after not showing up for the past week. 

“What’s he into, extracurricular-wise?” Russell asked.

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me,” you said in frustration. Tears prickled at your eyes, and your lower lip trembled. “He said it was safer that way.”

Russell laid a supportive hand over yours, earning your watery gaze.

“And you haven’t gone to the police?” he asked.

“I think he’s gotten into something…dangerous. I don’t want to get him in more trouble than he might be already,” you said. “I just want him to get help for his problems. Physically and mentally.”

Russell nodded. He understood that you wanted to protect your brother. Sometimes though, getting into “trouble” was the rock bottom someone needed in order to face their problems.

“Does he have friends?” he asked. “Some kinda crowd he hangs around with?”

“Not anymore. I think he’s lost touch with his Air Force buddies,” you said, though you tried to think. Your brows furrowed as something occurred to you. “He knew someone at work, at the museum. Another security guard on his same shift. After they cut his hours down to part-time, Charlie said the guy knew how to get extra work.”

“Okay, that’s definitely where we start,” said Russell. “Let me just give Dory a call. If I don’t let her know I’m in town, I don’t even wanna know the consequences.”

You laughed through your tears and tried to brush them away. 

“Yeah, do that. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

Russell took one look at you, and he tightened his hold on your hand.

“Hey,” he said.

You glanced up at him, as tears clung to your lashes. His heart couldn’t help but clench for you. He really didn’t like to see you like this.

“We’re gonna find him. You’ve got my word,” he said. 

You were desperate to believe him. So you nodded, sniffling as you tried and failed to keep yourself together. You were scared, for the first time in a long time. 

“All right, come ‘ere,” Russell said. When he guided you into his arms, you went willingly. You pressed your face into his chest to hide your weeping. His hold was warm and strong enough to make you feel secure. Just for this moment, you didn’t have to pretend you had everything handled.

“He’s the only family I have,” you reminded him. He nodded.

“I hear ya. We’ll get him home,” he said. “And I am going to call Colter. Don’t worry about the rest. I’ll square it up with him.”

“Russell—” you protested, but he just squeezed you playfully. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pull big brother rank. He’s got no choice,” he joked. 

You shook your head, but you allowed him to comfort you for a bit longer. Because all too soon, you’d have to steel yourself again. You’d have to be the version of yourself that you always had to be, ever since you were fourteen years old.

You invited Dory over to your house, where the three of you were soon joined by the last of the Shaw siblings: the one you had yet to meet.

Colter made it in time for dinner that afternoon. The tall blonde took up your doorway with his broad shoulders and offered you a polite smile, along with his hand. 

“Hi, I’m Colter,” he said. 

You mentally tripped up a bit as you shook his hand and gave him your name. Did all the Shaw siblings have to be so damn attractive?

“Uh, yes, please come in.” You ushered him into your home and led him into the living room, where Russell stood from the couch. 

“Ahh, there he is,” Russell grinned, slapping his younger brother on the shoulder. 

“Here you are,” Colter gestured at him. “Where the hell did you take off to after last time?”

“Ah, you know. Argentina was fun.”

“I’m sure it was.”

You paused in the doorway, just watching the brothers in mystification. Dory shot you a questioning look as she came over from the kitchen. You met her with raised brows. 

“What?” Dory asked. A smile played on her lips.

“Do all of you have to be so unbelievably pretty?” you whispered over to her. Dory smirked and bumped your shoulder, nodding at Colter. 

“What, you wanna make out with him too?” she teased. 

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. Dory just laughed and moved on to say hello to the other blonde. She pulled him down into a hug, and he reciprocated warmly.  

Russell then laid a hand on Colter’s shoulder, as well as Dory’s. He wore a big, proud grin.

“Hey. Look at us, huh?” he said. 

Dory sniffed as tears welled up in her eyes, looking up at both of her brothers. Colter wore a more reserved smile, but he did wrap an arm around his sister and thump his older brother on the back.

You smiled. You were lingering by the kitchen doorway. If nothing else, you were glad that this whole mess had been able to bring Dory back together with her family. 

You decided to give them a moment, and you wandered back into the kitchen. There you took a beat for yourself, mainly to breathe.  

When you again thought of Charlie, you had to wonder just what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

Later, the four of you sat in the living room so you could explain everything you knew so far to Colter. He took all the information in with a pensive expression that didn’t reveal much to you. 

“So you said he was struggling?” he said. 

“Yes, after he got out of the military,” you confessed. “He had a hard time figuring himself out. I got him the job at the museum, but I don’t think it was enough for him.”

“Why is that?” Colter asked. He saw that you were reluctant to explain. “I need to know the full picture of who Charlie is if I’m going to be able to figure out his probable moves.”

You sighed. “Well, he was seeing a VA psychiatrist for a while. They wanted to put him on antidepressants, but he stopped going. He…started self-medicating instead.”

That part was hard to admit, but it was the truth. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t any longer. 

“What substances?” Colter asked. 

“Alcohol, mainly,” you replied. “At his worst, there were hard drugs, but I got him to tone it down just to weed every now and then.”

You bit at your thumbnail out of habit, but you forced yourself to stop, folding your hands in your lap. You didn’t see judgment in Colter’s eyes, just him taking in the information. You couldn’t help but glance at Dory, where you found her sympathy. She knew enough about what you’d been dealing with for the past few years. Russell seemed understanding as well. 

“Anything else I should know?” Colter asked. You shook your head. You felt bad about revealing Charlie’s business like this, but you knew it was the only way to help him. Still, you felt you had to defend him a little.

“Look, my brother has his problems, but he’s a good man,” you said. “He, um…he basically half raised me, after our parents died.”

Dory also knew this story. She rested a hand on your back, and you gave her what smile you could. 

“How old were you?” Russell asked. He earned your attention, and you met his sympathetic gaze.

“Fourteen,” you answered. “It was a car accident.”

He took that in, nodding slowly. “I’m sorry.”

The way he met your eyes when he said it, you believed him. You subtly cleared your throat and directed the conversation back.   

“So, I don’t have a lot of money. But I can give you something for your services,” you said to Colter. Both Russell and Dory met you with similar looks. 

“I’ve got it,” Dory says, before Russell had the chance. Colter waved her off though.

“In this case, it’s not necessary,” he said, focusing on you again. “So Charlie was working at the local museum?”

You breathed a note of relief at his generosity. Dory, Russell, and now Colter…they were all good people in their own way. You felt emotion rise in your throat.

“Yes, it’s about ten minutes away,” you managed to reply. “It’s closed now, but his coworker could be on shift. They always have security in place.”

You grabbed your purse to go with them when Colter and Russell stood, but the former raised a placating hand. 

“It’s best if you stayed here,” Colter said.

Your brows rose. “I don’t think so.”

Colter’s mouth parted, and he blinked, like he hadn’t expected you to push back quite like that; calm and matter of fact.

“Ah, well, it’s really for your safety—”

“I’m not going to sit and wait,” you said. “That’s all I’ve been doing for months. I may not be an expert tracker, or have been in the army, but I do know my brother. And we are going to find him.”

Behind you, Dory was giving Colter a warning shake of her head. She knew just how stubborn you could be. Meanwhile, Russell came up on your other side with a smile.

“What’s the harm in her coming along to the museum?” he said, sliding his brother a teasing look. “Unless the T. rex wakes up all the mummies, Ben Stiller style.”

You wanted to point out that that wasn’t exactly the plot of Night at the Museum, but you held it in with a smile. You gave Colter an expectant look.

He sighed at Russell’s antics, but he turned to you with a nod.

“Okay, let’s go,” he said. 

“I’ll head home then,” said Dory. “Call me if you need anything.” 

You gave her a hug after she gathered up her purse. 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said, rubbing your back. “Colter’s the best.” 

“All right, fine. And what am I? Chopped liver?” Russell remarked, gesturing wide with his hands. You all filtered out of your house, and you locked the door behind you.  

“Oh, you’re special, all right,” Dory quipped back, but she gave her eldest brother a warm hug as well, then patted Colter on the arm before she left.

Russell shot Colter a playful smirk. “I got the hug.”

Colter rolled his eyes and pointed over to his big pickup truck. 

“Just get in the car, please.”

You had to smile at all their sibling teasing. It reminded you of how you and Charlie used to cut up, when things were good. On your way down the driveway, you hesitated by the Chevy Chevelle parked next to your own car. She was still black and sleek and beautiful.

You happened to glance up, and there was Russell, getting into his brother’s pickup. He winked at you across the driveway. You turned your face to hide your smile (and your blush) as you climbed into your car.

Colter noted the exchange when he buckled up into the driver’s seat. He watched Russell do the same on the passenger side, all while wearing a certain smile on his face. When he noticed how Colter was looking at him, his brows raised.

“What?” said Russell.

“What was that?” Colter asked.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right,” Colter chuckled. He began to pull the car out of the driveway after you in your car, so he could follow you. “What, do you two have a thing or something? Is that why she called you before me?”

Russell shrugged, but his smile was telling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhmm. Convincing,” Colter said, but his lips tugged upward as well. His good humor diminished though, when he considered the last time he saw his brother. “How’s the arm?”

Russell gave a thumbs up with his left arm—the one that previously had a bullet run through it. It was still healing, even now.

“It’s good,” he said.

“Did you see a doctor?”

“Sure did.”

Riiiight. Another thing Colter wasn’t sure was the truth, but he’d give Russell that one.

“And that unfinished business?” Colter asked.

Russell’s smile faded, but he nodded. “Finished.”

After a moment, Colter nodded as well. 

“Okay,” he said. 

Something occured to him then. He paused, and he reached into his pocket. He held up a small, closed pocketknife with a wooden handle, and he gave it back to Russell. It had the man's name carved on the side.

Russell's smile returned as he flipped the old keepsake through his fingers.

"Thanks for keeping it safe for me," he said.

Colter smiled back. "Thanks for trusting me with it."

Colter parked next to you at the museum. It was closed, but the security guard, Jimmy, did know your brother. 

“I haven’t seen Charlie since he quit last week,” Jimmy claimed.

“He quit?” you said. “They told me he just never came back.”

“Yeah, well, same thing,” he said.

The front doors of the museum opened, and out came Dr. Feinman, your former boss, and the Head Manager. You left Jimmy’s questioning up to Russell and Colter with a meaningful look, and you went to intercept Feinman.

“Hi, sir, how’re you doing?” you asked. Your name fell from his lips in surprise. 

“My dear, it’s good to see you, but why are you here after hours?” he asked, his British accent lilting.

“I’m trying to find Charlie. He’s been missing, well, officially for about a week,” you said. “I was actually surprised to see you here so late.”

The man cleared his throat. He smoothed a hand over his tie and suit jacket.

“Yes, well, we could’ve used Charlie’s help. We’ve had to double our security efforts,” he said. “We’re currently dealing with a sensitive issue, so the museum will be closed until it is resolved.”

“You’re doubling your security efforts… Was something stolen?” you asked. 

Feinman clearly didn’t want to tell you this, but you knew you’d hit the nail on the head by the look on his face.

“Please, keep that information to yourself,” he said. 

“What was stolen?” you asked in concern. 

“I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information. Not even for you, dear,” he said. “I do hope you find your brother though.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that, and as a matter of fact,” you began, but Feinman waved an apologetic hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m in a terrible rush just now. But call my office tomorrow and Brenda will help you with whatever you may need,” he said. “Good evening.”

“Wait, Dr. Feinman,” you tried, but he was already breezing past you and heading toward his Mercedes in the parking lot.

Meanwhile, Colter and Russell weren’t having much better luck with Jimmy. 

“Look, I really don’t know where Charlie is,” he said. “Haven’t seen or heard from him since he took off.”

“He said you connected him with someone who could give him some work on the sly,” Russell said, leveling a hand at the man’s chest. “Who did you connect him with, and what kind of work are we talking?”

Jimmy blew out a breath, like this was really inconveniencing his day. (Or night, at this point.)

“What, you’ve got somewhere to be?” Colter said. “You’re getting paid to stand right here, and we have no problem sharing your shift all night. You might as well just tell us what we want to know.”

Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck in annoyance.

“All right,” he snapped. “I hooked him up with this guy I knew through a mutual acquaintance, who just needed some muscle. I guess you could call it private security.”

“A mutual acquaintance?” Colter repeated. 

“What’re you, James Bond? Who did you connect him with?” Russell pressed.

Jimmy was reluctant to talk. You came back over to join them, and the security guard became even more tight-lipped.

“You guys should go. I don’t have to talk to you, and I’ve got a job to do,” he said.

When he tried to continue his patrol around the museum, you stepped deliberately in his way. You didn’t have the patience for this, and you would no longer be a doormat, letting the Goldsteins and the Feinmans of this world push past you.

“Look, Jimmy, if you don’t give us something we can go on to find my brother, you know where I’m going to go?” you asked. But you spoke before he could respond. “To the police. And your name is the only one I have to give them. Now, if you don’t want that to be you, then give me a different name.”

Jimmy looked down at you, and then over at your intimidating shadows, Russell and Colter. Jimmy sighed.

“Eddie,” he gave, finally.

Russell raised his hands, as if to say, Is that it?

“What, Eddie Vedder? Eddie who? Come on,” Russell said.

“Eddie Mendez,” Jimmy replied in a lowered voice. “I don’t know where he lives. I don’t have his number. And that 'mutual acquaintance' is doing some time in lockup. But Eddie hangs out at a bar called Howley’s.”

You and Russell shared a meaningful look at that. You turned back to Jimmy. 

“Okay. What was stolen here at the museum?” you said. “That’s why it’s been closed, right?” 

“I don’t know,” Jimmy said. “I wasn’t on shift, and Dr. Feinman keeps a tight lid on that kind of thing.”

“We’ll need to get into his office then,” Colter said. 

You blinked wider at Colter. Wait, was he really suggesting you guys break into the museum?

Jimmy pointed to the black device attached to the ceiling above them. 

“See the cameras?” he said. “That's not happening on my dime.”

Colter looked up, and he saw the cameras strategically installed across the front of the museum. 

“Then take us where the cameras don’t see,” he said.

You, Colter, and Russell were able to break into the museum via a storage unit door, thanks to Jimmy’s texted instructions. You couldn’t believe you were actually doing this, but it was for Charlie, you reminded yourself.

You remembered where to find Feinman’s office. You paid for a lot of your undergrad expenses, namely your books and tuition, by working full-time as an office assistant here, and the occasional tour guide. 

You led them to the room where the inventory records were kept. Colter gave you his gloves so you didn’t leave prints, and you were able to pinpoint what was labelled as missing from the latest shipment. 

“Oh great,” you muttered. 

“What was taken?” Colter asked.

“A collection of Native American weapons. Dated almost eight hundred years old,” you said, shaking your head. “The collection is valued at $1.5 million dollars.”

Russell and Colter shared a look. 

“That’s some big motive,” Russell said. 

“When did they go missing?” Colter asked. 

“Almost two weeks ago,” you said. Your brows furrowed the more you read, as you realized something. “Just a few days before Charlie left the museum…” 

The timing wasn’t lost on anyone. But if Charlie was a suspect, Feinman hadn’t let on to that at all. You checked the exact date the artifacts went missing again: a Tuesday night. Charlie didn’t typically work on Mondays or Tuesdays, you realized. And he’d left after the artifacts went missing. So maybe they hadn’t thought to question him yet. One small blessing.  

You sighed. With that information gathered, the three of you put back everything you uncovered and left the building the same way you came in. Jimmy was nowhere in sight, probably patrolling the other end of the museum on purpose.

When you all made it back to the parking lot, you turned to Colter and Russell.

“Okay, what’s next?” you asked. “Howley’s right? To find Eddie.”

“Actually, I think it’s best Russell and I take it from here,” Colter said. “We don’t know what kind of character Eddie Mendez is, but from how reluctant Jimmy was to tell us, it doesn’t sound good.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Russell drew closer and touched your arm. You could see in his face that he agreed with his brother, even though he hadn’t said anything yet.

“Look, you’ve been a huge help,” he said. “But let us work on this, okay? We’ll call you when we find something.”

Still, your lips pursed. “Russell, he’s my brother.”

“I know. Punching out drunks is one thing, but this might be a little different,” he said, grasping your arms gently. “Will you give me some peace of mind, knowing you’re home safe?”

He brushed one of his thumbs along your skin. Already you had goosebumps. From the cold chill on the air, or from him, you weren’t sure. But that simple touch, along with his earnest, imploring gaze broke you down.

“All right. I get it. I’m not the Special Ops guy,” you said. “But call me afterward so I know how it went.”

“Okay, will do,” Russell agreed. He let you go so you could go to your car. You shot the brothers one last look before you climbed in and peeled out of the parking lot.

Russell expelled a sigh of relief. He got into the passenger side of his brother’s pickup while Colter started it up.

Thanks to the late hour, and how little traffic there was on the road, it didn’t take you long to get home.

You’d debated whether you should just go to Howley’s anyway, but you didn’t want to get in the way, or make Russell worry for that matter. You smiled, despite yourself.

His touch had tingled across your arms, and whenever he absently laid a hand on the small of your back, supportive or guiding.

Thinking about him just made your heart ache. Because after this was over, he’d be gone again—on a new mysterious job, perhaps on the other side of the world.

You’d been regretting how you left things with him at the bar for months, but now you were glad you hadn’t gone any further with him that night. Your heart was too easily ensnared, it seemed, and Russell didn’t seem to be a “strings attached” kind of guy.

When you parked in front of your house, you let out a tense breath. Russell and Colter would find Charlie. You believed in them. You just hoped your brother was all right, wherever he was.

You pulled your cell out of your purse to call Dory as you headed for the front door. You wanted to give her an update and let her know that you were back at home.

The call began to ring just as you slipped your key into the lock. Unfortunately, you never got a chance to open it.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around you from behind and yanked you back, and a firm hand over your mouth smothered your scream.

AN: 🫣 *Whispers* Sorryyy. But hey! What did you think of the reader's reunion with Russell, as well as the little Shaw Family Reunion? Plus, we got a bit of the reader working with Russell and Colter on the case.

Now, the real timer starts...

Next Time:

You were led into what sounded like a warehouse. You couldn’t know for sure with this musty bag over your head and your wrists bound together with zip ties, but you clenched your teeth and tried to stop sniffling. Your fear made your heart pump fast and loud in your ears.

Voices echoed around you, arguing, yelling about shipments. You were shoved hard to the ground, and you gasped, instinctively throwing your hands out when your knees hit the hard cement. 

“No…” 

That voice was all too familiar. 

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

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Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[jeons-catalyst]

Hey this might seem like an odd question but if you were asked to describe Taehyung and Jungkook’s dynamic, how would you? I really love the way you explain things so i would love to know what you think about their dynamic. Thanks

Hey anon,

The question isn’t odd at all so don’t worry.

The very first thing i’ll say about taekook as a pair is that their relationship with each other is extremely misunderstood. They are misunderstood by the multitude of shippers they have and it has been like this since the very beginning.

I think there is a part of Jk that will always hold some deep gratitude towards Tae because he was instrumental in helping him break out of his shy shell. I don’t think anyone can deny that Jk has some sort of soft spot for Taehyung. I think that when taekook were younger, Jk liked Tae so much and liked following him around like a puppy because Tae was the only member in the band he could completely be himself with (at some point). This was the member he could goof around with, get in trouble together with, do fun things together with and most importantly, i think for a time being Tae was sort of his safe place in public and/or uncomfortable settings. Jk mentioned that Tae helped him break out of his shy shell so i can imagine that anytime Jk felt shy or anxious while in public, he would seek out Tae because that is where he felt most comfortable mainly because of Tae’s personality. Tae was quirky, fun and weird in a good way. Being around him guaranteed anyone a fun filled time so i guess things like this helped put Jungkook at ease.

Now, i don’t mean that he didn’t feel comfortable with his other hyungs but because they were much older than he was and there was always a certain boundary he couldn’t cross whereas with Tae, he could to totally feel like he had a same age friend he could have fun with and just be a kid with without having to worry about coming off disrespectful or crossing boundaries. We have to remember that Jk was only a kid when he joined bighit. He was 15 years old. What do typical 15 year olds do? They play with their friends after school, goof around together and just have fun. Jk was the youngest stuck with 6 other boys older than him whom he knew he had to respect to a certain degree. Tae to him was like that same age friend he was missing in a normal life setting and craved so bad. Watching fetus taekook, you cannot miss how close those two were and how much Jungkook liked Taehyung and how much Taehyung kinda took Jungkook under his wing.

In my opinion, taekook are friends who really love and care about each other and connect in so many ways, especially in things that are fun. I however don’t think these two have ever really had that much of a deep emotional connection. What i mean by this is, i think their interests in each other is mostly centered around the fun things they can do together and not how many deep talks they can have or how much they can understand each other’s hearts. Let me give you examples. When Jk was younger, he would almost always pick Tae to play games with. Even when he was asked who he wanted to share a room with, he picked Tae. What was interesting wasn’t the fact that he picked Tae but the reason he did. Some other person might have said something like “ i picked X because we get along well so i know we wouldn’t fight” or “ i picked Y because i he is neat and doesn’t leave a mess” but Jk said he picked Tae so that they could play games all night long. Mind you this was fetus Jk who was less media trained and pretty much blurted things out as he thought them.

Now let’s look at how he picked Jimin (for example). When Jk was asked who gives him most comfort, it was Jimin, who knows him best, it was Jimin, how he overcame the harsh trainee life, it was Jimin, who influenced him the most, it was Jimin, who was easiest to talk to, it was Jimin, who his heart connected to, it was Jimin. Plus he has attributed his ability to be kind and thoughtful to Jimin several times. Just by looking at this two, you can see what i mean when i say i don’t think Taekook ever had that much of an emotional connection.

Let’s look at another example. The deepest things Jk has ever said about Tae is that Tae helped him break out out of his shy shell. He has also called Tae innocent and said he liked tae’s innocence. Other than this, you would mostly only ever hear Jk commenting on or praising Tae’s looks. Let’s use Jimin as an example again. Jk has spoken about Jimin’s personality, his kindness, how caring he is, how hardworking he is. Jk was asked to describe Jimin’s charm and he said it was his thoughtfulness and how considerate he is of others. Jk gets praised for being kind and thoughtful towards the manager and his first thought is to attribute it to Jimin. Jk sits on a show and talks about how much he admires Jimin’s zeal and drive and how hardworking he is. Jk talks about how beautiful Jimin’s personality is and how nice he is. When Jk talks about Jimin, he talks about who jimin is and not what he is. Now don’t get me wrong. You look around and you can find clips of Jk complimenting other members but not the same way he does Jimin. When Jk talks about Namjoon, you get the sense that he really admires him and sees him as a mentor of sorts but when he talks about Jimin, you literally feel just how much he knows Jimin and connects with him on a deeper level. It is not the same with Tae in my opinion. The highest thing one would learn about Tae after listening to Jk talk about him is that he is handsome. Jk rarely ( not never) , talks about anything else.

The way i see taekook now, they are two friends who enjoy spending time with each other doing something fun. I think they those types of friends who always need a reason to hang out and hanging out is probably more fun for them with other people around. I don’t see Jk just going to sit in Taehyung’s room for hours doing nothing. I see Taekook spending hours, even days together when they have something to keep them occupied. That thing gets taken away and they don’t feel the need to be around each other much. They are in my opinion, typical guy friends. I think they really enjoy talking about music and songs. I think they recommend alot of songs to each other too, i think they enjoy doing outdoor activities together and attending concerts together too. Jk did say it is fun when he is with Taehyung so i think one of the greatest things that bonds them together is the fun. This would explain why somethings began to get awkward with them when they started spending more time apart and Tae starting becoming quieter. I think Tae’s quirky and fun personality is one lf the things jk really likes about him and one of the ways they relate to each other the most. Take that away and these two will still have alot of love for each other but will probably not feel the need to be together much.

Watching their Vlive from May 2020 and the Vminkook Vlive from November 2021 explained so many things about Taekook’s dynamic as adults. When taekook were younger, putting them together was guaranteed fun but now as adults, it feels like they barely have anything to talk to each other about if they are not doing some activity. Think of their instagram Live from February 2023. Taekookers watched that Live and saw two lovers being all shy and giggly but i saw two people who didn’t know what to say to each other so sat in awkward silence. It’s not like i expected them to start discussing family secrets on Live but the conversation just doesn’t flow as you would expect. I think this is partly because they have never been used to just sitting and having conversations or getting to know each other on a deeper level. They both don’t seem like people who are good at conversations so gaming and goofing around or going out to have fun always the place of just sitting and talking. They also don’t seem to rely on each other for emotional support. I cannot recall a single time i ever saw Jk seek Tae out when he needed emotional support. This ofcourse doesn’t mean they don’t care about each other. Jungkook hugging and comforting Tae during MAMA 2018 was proof that Jk hurts when Tae hurts but that isn’t exclusive to Tae. He hurts when all his members hurt and he made that clear in his song “begin”. You just never see him or hear him talking about depending on Tae for emotional support the way he has mentioned needing it from Jimin.

Jimin and Jungkook on the other hand seem like they actually converse with each other. I can think of that moment in BV when Jungkook was telling Jimin about his day and how sand fleas got stuck under his shoes and Jimin just listened attentively. Or in the documentary when Jimin talked to Jungkook about how his friend said he thought Jimin was depressed and Jk just listened. These are such simple moments but they tell so much about Jikook’s dynamic. Jk isn’t much of a talker so seeing him actively telling Jimin about his day and about the sand fleas that got stuck under his shoes showed how much Jimin had created a space where Jk felt comfortable enough to just talk about even the little things like sand fleas. I don’t think i have ever seen taekook like that.

I also think Tae might kinda see Jungkook as the closest thing he has to a sibling. I remember Tae saying that he isn’t close to his siblings and they only speak to each other a few times a year so it is possible that Jungkook feels and has always felt like a sibling to him. Maybe he is having the kinda close relationship he always wanted to have with his siblings, with Jungkook.

So in a nutshell, Taekook are two besties who love and care about each other and are also very comfortable being affectionate with each other but unfortunately, the softness and physical affection that has always been present in their dynamic gets mistaken for romance.

I think this is the best way i can describe the way i perceive taekook’s relationship based on their words and actions.

Hope this answered your question anon💜

[plush-rabbit]

Sinner!Adam Pt. 2

A/N: This was supposed to go together with another chapter, but it was gonna get too long, and I still need to fix it so yeah. Word Count: 3K

-

Your steps are quick, and you have to slow yourself down. You’re far too giddy- your heart beating against your chest, making your ears burn hot at the shell. Demons and other hellion citizens already glance your way, some of them craning their head to watch where you go so eagerly- so willingly without an escort. It’s been far too long since you’ve been seen out. You need to relax. Your stomach twists itself into knots, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you walk down the street. It’s been a while since you had actual eyes looking at you, and you have to tell yourself that no one cares about you, that it’s their curiosity, but they have no real thoughts about you. You come to a slow pace, restrained to a painful degree, with energy threatening to burst at the seams and leave you a mess.

It should come to no surprise that others look at you- some of them follow your figure until the crowd hides you long enough for you to disappear. While dating Lucifer had come with its perks early on in the relationship- such as bodyguards wherever you’d go, or even stores being reserved just for you- all of that dwindled along with the relationship. You never needed anything more than what you can just order online, and you hid yourself in the castle along with him. You never dared to leave, always worried of what you might hear from the people. But even so, that doesn’t stop the tabloids from theorizing about your relationship, or whether you’re still around or hiding in another ring.

You’ve forgotten what it was like to walk down the street. The anxiety. The fear. The skip in your step. The excitement. Leaving the castle that night to go and drink was something that you don’t regret. You haven’t felt like this in a long time, and it’s almost painful, but the warmth in your chest makes it bearable.

Turning the corner, you spot Adam sitting down on a table outside a restaurant. He’s slouched in the chair, his drink in front of him, as he scrolls on his phone. Hell’s citizens make a very obvious attempt to not get near him. You, however, make your way towards him, unable to hide the bounce in your step, unable to stop the grin.

“Adam!” You call when you’re just close enough, raising your hand in a wave. He looks up, startled, eyes wide and mouth partially agape. When he realizes it’s you, he gives you a lazy grin, lifting his hand up in greeting. 

The chair scrapes against the ground, and you sit across from him, your legs criss crossing under the table. It’s only when you’ve sat that you notice another drink, partially hidden by the other. “Took you long enough,” he tells you without any real annoyance in his words. He places his phone face down, and pushes an unopened drink towards you. “Didn’t know what you wanted, and the waiters were being annoying about having to order.”

You smile apologetically, grabbing the drink with your hands. The condensation wets your hands, cooling them down and hiding any bit of sweat that you may have had. “Sorry for taking a bit longer than expected,” you tell him. He gives you an expecting look and you tap the top of the drink with your nail. “Charlie needed me for a bit, but I had no idea how long it would actually take.”

“Couldn’t you just say no?’

Opening the drink, you watch as the fizz climbs up the neck of the bottle. “I could have. But I like helping Charlie. She’s a good kid.” Adam pushes the menu towards you- his nails sharpened, gleaming under the light.

“Fuck that,” he snarls, “damn cunt can throw a punch.”

“Adam,” you call in warning. “You’re cool and all, but I won’t let you disrespect Charlie,” your voice goes low and he’s aware of you for a moment, his eyes canning you, as if the realization that you are an actual demon and he is no longer in possession of angelic steel has clicked. “You came into her home and targeted her friends and family, and her people.” Your hand reaches over and you grasp his hand tightly, your nails sinking into the flesh of his hand. “You can bitch about whatever you want with me, but not about her. Understood?”

“Yes,” he says quickly. Compared to other hellions, you aren’t the most threatening, but a demon is a demon, and he’s learned that lesson.

You smile. “Great!”  You let go of his hand, letting yours return to your side of the table. “I haven’t been here before. How did you even find this place?”

As the words leave your mouth, someone comes to your table and clears their throat. You look up to see a hellhound with their teeth bared, as they glower at Adam. It seems as though his reputation exceeded far past just the Sinner hate, but also to the other residents of Hell. You shouldn’t be surprised- Hellborn and Sinners were near the bottom of the food chain, many of them were probably friends, or more. You wouldn’t be surprised if Exorcists had even murdered Hellborn just for the hell of it.

The hound before you stands tall, their fur on its end as they speak to Adam. You wonder if Adam can feel the disdain and hatred. It isn’t as if others are masking it- if anything it’s apparent. He isn’t just a Sinner- no, he’s much lower than that. You’d be terrified in his position, you’d never leave your home if you knew without a doubt that others couldn’t stand you. You wonder why he even goes out at all. You wonder how long he was alone in Hell for until you two met and became friends. You couldn’t fathom being all alone in a new place- especially one where you’re so obviously hated.

“And for you?” Their tone is noticeably different towards you. You had missed what Adam ordered, and you skim over the menu, choosing one of the first things you see as to not keep the waiter at the table.

“Oh, um this.” You point at the menu item, crossing your ankle over the other, cringing internally as you hadn��t repeated the menu item out loud. “Please.” The hound nods, and with a bow, they leave the table. You look up at Adam, who is busy staring down at his nearly empty drink. “What did you get?”

“The service here sucks,” he says in disgust. His lips curl in anger, his hands flat against the table. He grumbles something under his breath, and you glance to your side.

“They’re probably just tired,” you attempt to reason. Perhaps it's to protect him, even if he knows the reason why service is less than subpar. You wonder how long it took him to find a bar that would have him, or even a place to rent. Adam gives you an angry sort of look, but it quickly softens when you cock your head to the side. “I um- Sorry again if you were waiting for long,” you say softly. You shouldn’t have taken long- Charlie could have waited, but you lived in a  moment where Adam wasn’t the most hated in Pride Ring, where he could stomach waiting for a few moments alone in a street full of Hell’s citizens. 

He stays quiet, and brings his drink closer to him. “You look freaked walking down the street,” he says after a moment, his words tense, and slow as if he isn’t sure that that is what he wanted to say.

You shrug, attempting to play cool, but your bouncing leg gives you away. “It’s um, it’s been a while since I left the castle. When I- When we met that night, I wasn’t thinking clearly- I was a bit melodramatic and I guess, I just wanted the attention that I had gone out alone.” You twist your hands with each other, and you let your worry show, unable to settle it. 

“From?” You furrow your brows. “The attention you wanted.”

You bow your head and tap the tips of your shoes against the sidewalk. “Lucifer,” you whisper, his name heavy on your tongue, and shame resting like a weighted blanket over you.

“Did you get it?” You thin your lips and shake your head. Adam pulls a face, and leans back into his chair. “Sucks.”

“Yeah, well, I expected it. I mean, it still hurt, but ya know, what can you do.” You give a smile to Adam, and it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Before, when we were good, um, he would assign guards to me.”

Adam perks up at the mention. “Really?” He sounds shocked.

“As much as Hell is my home, it’s um, not exactly safe. Especially when you’re dating royalty. So, Lucifer thought it was best that if I was to leave on my own, I would have guards assigned to me. He said that it was too dangerous for me to leave on my own. I didn’t really believe him-” you wave your hand in the air- “I thought he was being controlling, until I almost got kidnapped.” You snort at the end, resting your cheek against your knuckles. 

“Almost?” Adam leans closer, now intrigued.

“I’m guessing Heaven really was safe compared to here,” you say. He gives you a look as if to say “duh”. You smile at him. “Probably for ransom or some demon who really hates royalty. One of the hellhounds assigned to me found my scent and killed the demon.”

“Oh,” he almost sounds shocked.

“Yeah, she tore out his throat.”

“You still got them around?” He asks, excitement laced into his words. You wonder how much he misses the carnage and bloodshed. “You know, in case I gotta watch out or something,” he tries to cover up, but you can see the way that his body comes to an alert, wanting and waiting for a reason to fight.

With an apologetic smile, you shake your head. “No, they returned to Beelzebub.” He raises a brow. “She handles Hellhounds. She’s down in gluttony, and she throws these big parties most of the time. People go over and they gorge themselves there- feeds into her sin, ya know?” You end, with a wave of your hand, unsure if he really needed an explanation or not.

“Did you care that they left?”

You shrug. “At first I did. I- I have this bad habit of-” you stop yourself- you want to see the good in people, you want to believe that they liked you as much as you like them- “well, it’s not important. But um, we were close, but I think that’s only because they were meant to guard me. But once Lucifer and I hit our rough patch and well I stopped going out as much.” You glance up at him, and quickly look away, interlocking your hands together. “He hardly made public appearances unless it was to visit the embassy-” you gesture to Adam with your hand- “or to visit one of the sins. And we hardly went on dates, so there was no reason to keep the guards around.” You look up at Adam and he’s silent, his brows slightly furrowed, creating small wrinkles between the space. “I’m sorry,” you say, embarrassment hot on your cheeks, “I didn’t mean to bring up Lucifer.” 

The waiter returns, your order served on porcelain plates. The hound only gives you a passing glance, their eyes returning to Adam, narrowing in resentment. A check is already placed in between the two of you, the hound standing tall, intimidatingly so. 

“Why the fuck are we getting the check already?” Adam asks, his body tense and expression matching the hound’s. 

“So you don’t run off.”

“Oh for fuck’s-”

“I got it!” You chirp quickly, reaching into your wallet to pull out a large bill. You gather it with the check, and hand it the hound. “Keep the change,” you tell them, adding a smile at the end of your words, hoping that that is enough to keep everything at bay.

The waiter glances between your hand and you, and takes it gently in their hand. They mumble a halfhearted thank-you under their breath and walk away. 

“What the fuck was that?” Adam asks. You take a sip of your drink, trying to find the right words. “I have money to pay for shit.”

“I don’t like confrontation. And it seemed like the two of you were going to get into it.” You kick your legs out, and your shoe bumps against Adam’s. “It just seemed easier to make them happy and leave us alone. But um, you can pay next time if you’d like.”

He scoffs. “You know I used to get shit for free in Heaven.” You scoff out a short laugh, your smile tender compared to his. “You don’t even get shit for free here.” 

You laugh at the statement, covering your smile with your hand. “No, unfortunately, you have to prove yourself down here. Between you and I, before your last extermination, not a lot of demons respected Charlie. She kinda had to prove herself and she did- that’s why she had cannibals on her side in the last extermination. Not a lot of people respect me- I never gave them a reason to care about me. I’m not famous or scary. I’m simply a demon who got lucky to be in Lucifer’s grace.”

“Whatever,” he grumbles. There’s silence for a moment as you bite into your pastry. “Where would you go with him?”

“With Lucifer?” You ask, and he nods, his eyes fixated on his own plate. He moves the food around with a fork, letting it tear and poke through the food. “We’d do the usual stuff like dinner. But he’d take me to the other rings, sometimes. We’d go to Ozzie’s and have dinner and Asmodeus would have some of his best dancers perform for us. Or we’d go to Loo Loo Land and watch Fizzorolli at the circus.”

“Loo Loo Land?” Adam pulls a face at the name of the amusement park. 

“Oh, um Lucifer owns Lu Lu World, and Mammon- Greed- ripped it off, and made his own amusement park called Loo Loo Land. It’s nothing like Lu Lu World, but we would make fun of the rides, and it’s definitely not up to code.”

“Fucking asshole made an amusement park.”

You snort and take another bite off your plate. Covering your mouth with your hand, you swallow your food quickly. “I think you’d like it. The rides at least. But probably not all the Lucifer imagery.”

He scoffs and takes a bite of his meal. With a full mouth, he asks. “And now? What do ya’ll do?” 

“Well now, I beg him to eat with me, but I stopped doing that a while ago. I hated feeling dumb when he wouldn’t show up. But, I never really learn my lesson.” You look at him through your lashes, giving him a small smile, the corners only lifting for a brief moment before they fall. 

It’s silent for a moment, and you despise yourself for talking about Lucifer again. “I’m surprised you showed up today,” Adam says, his gaze turned the other way to watch hellions pass by. There’s a light tint that dusts over his cheeks, and he taps his nails on the table, the rhythm slow and controlled, jittering for just a second. 

Your hands are over the table, and with something sweet in your chest, you reach out to him. For the briefest second, the shortest moment, your fingers are outstretched, reaching to grab his hand, and when you catch his eyes, you let your hand slowly curl into a fist. “Of course, I came.” This must be how it feels to have a crush, to get excited over someone. “You invited me.” You’re screwed. In every possible way, you’re fucked. Adam entertained you enough for you to come at his beck and call, and you’re sure that you’re wide eyes and flustered, all smiles and laughter with him. “We are friends after all.” You want to hold his hand again. You need to hold him again, to feel his warmth, the callousness on his palms and fingertips. 

His eyes stare into your own, and you hold your breath. His lips part, and there’s uncertainty in the way that he holds himself, a speck of vulnerability that you had the grace of witnessing all those nights ago. And in the blink of an eye, it’s gone. His smile is sharp, and playful- too mischievous and out of sorts compared to before. “Friends with a fucking demon,” he scoffs, looking down at his plate, his smile stretched a bit too wide. “Who would have thought?”

The acknowledgement of his perceiving you as a friend, has you perk up in your seat. It’s been far too long since you’ve had friends. And while you think you want more, having him as a friend is enough to make the warmth in your chest spread. Dating a king left you too out of touch, too removed to connect with others. And those at the castle don’t even respect you, they can only tolerate you- a false partner, one undeserving of any title unlike the Queen before you. You’re happy- ecstatic, overjoyed. You have someone who likes you, who- in such a childlike glee- wants to be your friend. 

“Can you imagine that? An exorcist and a demon?” Your smile is wide, and you lean towards him, your body buzzing in excitement. “I’m sure that if you saw me out in the streets, you’d have attempted to kill me.”

“No attempts at anything, doll.” Adam points a finger at you, his smile proud and predatory. “I’d have spilled your guts all over the grimy ass floor.” His eyes gleam under the light, his smile scrunching up his eyes.

“Ha!” You snort. “You’re absolutely the worst.” Your laughter fills the air, and you light and bubbly. When you look at him again, he’s smiling gently at you, and it makes your laughter fade away. His hands are on the table, and you busy your hands with your food, hoping that the want to hold him will go away.

[mochilly]

🌟 Dream the Hedgehog !

— Doctor Eggman got tired of losing all the time to Sonic and his friends. As a result, he got his hands on one of Sonic's and Shadow's quill, using their DNA to create a powerful weapon against them and with the power of a shooting star that has fallen, Dream the Hedgehog was born.

Made a Sonadow fankid I guess (?) I don't know if I should consider him a fanchild or not, but for now I'm kind of considering him as fankid...?

Also, please send me some scenarios or prompts to draw him! (Or idk questions about him?) I want to draw Dream more but I'm out of ideas to do so. Anyway, here are some information about him:

☆ He was named as Dream by Eggman who thought he was the solution to his problems, thinking he could make his dream come to reality.

☆ He normally stares a lot, can stay without blinking for long periods of time.

☆ Has Sonic speed and Shadow strength. Although being fast he utilizes roller skates, due the fact he's too much lazy to truly run on his own, preferring the aid of his roller skates.

☆ His roller skating style it's different from Shadow. Dream moves his legs in a different pace, he's fast by nature so he only needs a good thrust to keep going, and will stay like this for some seconds before thrusting again, not unlike Shadow who moves his legs constantly to keep his momentum.

☆ Dream doesn't usually speaks, and when he does it's in a sluggish sleepy manner.

☆ The shooting star that gave him life it's still in the possession of Eggman, it acts like his "heart", if some harm it's made to it, Dreams feels it all. Eggman uses it in his favor to keep Dream on his side.

☆ He sleeps most of the time, or when he can at least.

☆ Dream has a "Nightmare form" when he becomes too agitated, it can even be anger or sadness motivated. His shooting star energy becomes tainted with bad energy instead of a positive one and he transforms.

☆ His body can still move while he's sleeping, Dream it's able to fight/run perfectly, reacting to the things that happen around him, but he's not able to speak in that state.

☆ Even if Dream it's referred to as a hedgehog and has a body of one, he's more of a amalgamation of other mobians species that Eggman used to fill some "holes" in his DNA.

☆ Can flight slightly due to having shooting star energy onto him. But if the shooting star and Dream were reunited, he could fly perfectly and do some other tricks.

☆ Punched Sonic on the face in their first encounter while Sonic was still speaking and Shadow had to intervene at some degree when their fight got to disastrous and Dream wouldn't let go of Sonic, Dream got away afterwards.

[cozzzynook]

The Lost Light is over Ratchet never died. Ratchet and Drift decide to go on vacation and visit some nearby planets. Rodimus at first is having a hard time he's struggling with depression. Living in Drift and Ratchet's apartment while they're gone. He's unmotivated to do anything. Self-harming and contemplating suicide.

He spends all day on social media watching videos about different things. Which inspire him to take charge of his life. He starts by trying things he sees online. He tries cooking and finds out he's really good at it and enjoys it.

He starts painting and learns about makeup and finds that he really enjoys that. He also finds a therapy group where he sees some familiar faces and some unknown. He's surprised to see Soundwave there and the two of them start talking and hit it off. Soundwave talks about some of the things he's been doing. He knows Rodimus is from Nyon and mentions this music he found from Nyon. Excited he has Soundwave show him and when the music played he started singing along. Soundwave was impressed and talked about the club he was working at and how they needed a singer.

At first, he was nervous and unsure but after talking with a therapist he decided to do it. After all, he wanted to make his own money instead of relying on Drift. The first night he sang the crowd loved him and it was a big hit. He would sing songs from Nyon and songs from other artists who'd died during the war. Then with the help of Soundwave the two of them would start writing their own songs.

It also inspired him to make his own channel where he could teach people Nyon recipes or music. Which got really popular.

He moved out of Ratchet and Drift's apartment. Finding his own little studio which he made into a very safe place for him. Where it was very fun and brightly decorated which he loved.

Slowly over time, he started falling for Soundwave although he was scared about taking that leap and going out with Soundwave, Who was letting him take his time and was always there for him.

Then Drift and Ratchet come back from their long vacation. During that time they'd talked a lot of things over and realized they both liked Rodimus and wanted to be with him.

When they finally come back Rodimus is there to greet them and he looks different. He's happier and just seems brighter in a way. They are surprised to learn he no longer lives in their apartment.

Over the next few days, they visit Rodimus' apartment and are shocked when he cooks for them. Drift notices some crystal flowers and is shocked especially when he reads the message. Rodimus tells them there from Soundwave after they released a new song.

Drift and Ratchet then learn he has begun singing at clubs and small consorts as his music takes off. Drift watching the way Rodmius talks about Soundwave realizes he's in love and that they are too late.

My brain is going so many directions with this idea & i really like it. Thank you so much for sharing.

My heart is always conflicted when it comes to picking soundrod or dratchrod because i like both.

I love when Rodimus has a hard time and contemplates suicide or self harm. To me its in his character to suffer behind closed doors and put on a front for others and believe it until he’s alone and then spirals all over again.

He would have a hard time after things end and nothing can distract him from the horrors of war. The things he’s done and the lives he’s lost and killed.

His home is gone and it can never be returned.

He’s the last of his people and he never thought of having sparklings because he feared messing them up and most bots don’t want to have multiple sparklings to the degree he would have to have to rebuild his people. So he accepts being the last of his people and the reason they die out completely.

He doesn’t talk about it and he keeps the scares he makes on himself hidden.

There’s plenty of times he’s opened his chassis late at night when alone in Drift and Ratchets apartment and opened his spark chamber to grip his spark and end it. His frame and processor always knock him out before he can do it fully and he feels this is a punishment for ruining the life of Nyon and all the mechs he’s killed under his terrible leadership.

So he coasts along not really accepting his fate but too weak to try again since the last one really hurt him. Left him knocked out for days on end and starving.

His colors faded deep reds that look black without light. His optics are dim and his frame is a lot thinner than it used to be.

He lets his datapad run to fill the silence in the early morning and thats how he finds a show that makes his spoiler lift a tad bit.

Its a cooking channel that makes his spark buzz a tad brighter and soon he’s binge watching it. Its what helps him get out of bed and now he’s moving around cleaning their apartment.

His frame is still weak, he’s still not back to his old color and his spark hasn’t felt the same since.

He flashes to memory files of holding his spark out of its core and how he really almost succeeded.

He feels something churn in the pit of his tanks and he hates the way his gestation pouch can be felt and seen now without the extra layers hiding it.

To escape the pain he turns on his datapad and sees an art channel.

He’s remembering how much he once loved art and how good he used to be at carving on his desk and the art pieces he used to make when Nyon still lived.

He’s finding himself leaving the apartment for the first time in three months to get food and art supplies.

The guilt eats at him when he uses Drifts money and he thinks of selling his art so he can pay him back. He knows he can never pay him back in full but he can stop living on his shanix.

For the first time in a long time, Rodimus feels happy as he listens to music and cooks a traditional Nyonian dish that he accidentally uploads to ether space. Before he can take it off bots are watching and asking for more.

None know its him since his frame and paint are drastically different and his face isn’t in it. That actually encourages him to make more since no one knows its him and so he makes another video and another until he has at least ten uploaded and viewers are asking him to show the painting he planned on selling that he created when it was too hard to recharge.

He did so, not showing his face plates of course, only to get a very large sum of money donated to his channel from multiple viewers. He’s so happy he cries, its the first time in over a million years that he’s actually cried happy tears but he did it. He finally did it.

He doesn’t exactly know what to do after that.

He has a processor breakdown that leaves him sitting in the middle of the floor with his food burning to char and that sets him off all over again.

Its two days later that he picks himself up from unbearable low fuel and the putrid smell of burning metal does he clean the kitchen and find a group that specializes in private therapy.

He can’t bring himself to paint or cook, let alone eat even if his frame is begging him to.

He enters the private group and sees faces he knows and just..leaves.

He doesn’t make it far because he drops from starvation.

He wakes up on a fuel drip and a mech sitting besides him he recognizes as Soundwave who puts a servo on his chassis to keep him still.

Turns out he damaged himself more than he knew when he almost succeeded in taking himself out. His spark was permanently damaged as a result and would never be as strong as it used to be. He would be fine but he could never enter battle again or do strenuous activities without multiple breaks. He could say goodbye to long drives where he pushed himself past his limit like every speedster loved doing.

He almost forgot Soundwave was there with him until he felt a digit brush a tear.

“Rodimus: will join Soundwave in a new group. Objections: not an option.”

He should’ve found that pushy and an invasion of his space along with an over step but he..went with it.

Letting Soundwave take him to a fuel cafe where he got the most delicious strawberry energon he later made into a parfait as a gift for Soundwave treating him.

The mech left him blushing at his compliment towards his baking and Rodimus was asking if Soundwave would like to try some of the fuel he makes for the cooking channel he sometimes does.

He didn’t expect the question to come from his dermas or for Soundwave to agree but he does and he finds he enjoys bringing a personal bowl to Soundwave and one for the new group he attends.

He sends an apologetic bowl of fuel to his first group that he ruined and they sent letters hoping for his recovery and a chance to meet if he wanted.

He..found himself shying away from meeting face to face with others but he enjoyed messaging and short calls.

He spent most of his time cooking and making art for his channel while Soundwave sat in the background playing music he liked to create and music he found from Nyon.

His viewers got a glimpse of Soundwave’s lower frame getting close to his one video when he hummed and danced along to an old Nyonian song meant for two. He didn’t mind Soundwave being close since the song encouraged it and he found he didn’t mind resting his helm on Soundwave’s shoulder as he hummed along to it.

His viewers lost their minds thinking the two were married with the natural chemistry between the two but he cleared it up quickly saying they were just acquaintances.

“Rodimus: a friend of Soundwave, not acquaintance,” the musically inclined mech corrected making Rodimus roll his optics and laugh.

He didn’t realize how long he went without laughing until that moment and he later learned how much the sound meant to Soundwave when he heard it added to a new song Soundwave was working on.

The former spymaster gathered multiple songs from Nyon and gifted them to Rodimus. He also made songs with clips of Rodimus humming and used Rodimus’s laugh as his identification for when he would call or message Soundwave.

In return Rodimus offered to teach create a painting for a Soundwave who accepted but asked Rodimus to make it at his home while singing for him.

“Rodimus vocals: a gift Soundwave wishes to relax in.”

The mech had a way of making Rodimus smile and feel warm inside in a way his flames could not.

He agreed, singing old Nyonian lullabies he once sang to sparklings while painting the constellations that once shined above his home past the infectious smog once atop high buildings or on the outskirts of the city.

Soundwave never hid that he recorded Rodimus singing to enjoy for himself and one day he asked Rodimus to sing with his group at a night club he enjoyed playing at.

Rodimus was visibly about to spiral in his nerves so Soundwave proposed Rodimus wear a mask to hide his face plates and sing in the back of the group instead of the front. He was still nervous but agreed liking that much more.

He’d heard about the nightclub being fancy and so he decided since no one would see his face plates it was fine for him to look at the channels he kept to himself.

He started off light since he wasn’t familiar with doing his own makeup yet, only watching on the screen, but he felt it looked nice. He slipped on the simple black sheer dress and met Soundwave at the club.

He wondered if he did something wrong when Soundwave just stared at him for a long time but eventually the mech reached out and handed him a bouquet of flower crystals that he liked from Soundwave’s yard. The mech had a very abundant garden filled with flowers Rodimus loved to smell and touch. He wasn’t a gardening mech but he did enjoy drawing and smelling them. Rodimus mentioned as a passing comment if he should grow his own cyber fruits and vegetables so his food would taste even better.

The night goes fantastic. The crowd loves them and he gets to hold the flowers as a grounding tool as he sings. He brings them back to Drift and Ratchets apartment where he takes off the face mask and smiles, placing the flowers in a vase. He contemplates making Soundwave a treat but decides against it. He sends him a message saying he had fun and a few days later he agrees to come see Soundwave at his home. Wearing a gold waist chain that showed off his gestation tank pouch and curvy waist that melded perfectly into his hips.

He hoped Soundwave didn’t mind his choice to wear derma gloss and some optic shadow. It fit the deep red and almost black tones of his paint job that became his permanent colors after hurting his spark. He found he liked the colors on himself though he does miss his vibrant colors he felt these were more true to who he was now.

He rang the doorbell holding the face mask in his servo and was greeted to Soundwave standing in the doorway with his optic mask on and lower guard off revealing a scarred face plate with his dermas pulled back on one side as a series of scars go from his revealed denta to his audial receptor.

Rodimus had never seen a mech so beautiful.

His spark stuttered a bit making him struggle to vent. The guard Soundwave was holding fell forgotten as he rushed to help Rodimus vent and calm his spark. Rodimus didn’t make the situation worse but he didn’t make it better with how he just stared at Soundwaves face.

He felt the flicker of hesitation in Soundwaves em field before humiliation took hold.

Rodimus didn’t think Soundwave should ever feel ashamed of his face. He made sure to tell him as such.

Touching the unscarred half of soft dermas with gentle digits that shook as he focused his hazy optics on the mech before him.

“You..you look..,” his spark felt heavy as it did light sharing the emotions for Soundwave to see through the wisps of his flames and whispers of his emotive curling beneath Soundwaves plating until it reached his spark.

He always felt too much and too deeply..but to Soundwave he felt..normal.

“Correction: Rodimus, is beauty incarnate.”

“Two things can be true Wavey.”

He doesn’t notice when they slip inside Soundwaves home, all he knows is that he finds comfort laying in the field of flowers with Soundwave beneath the sun. He’d tried returning the mask only for Soundwave to ask him for another night at the club and he can’t find it in himself to say no. He felt the mask resting besides him and the digits of a mech tracing the pattern along his hip plating. So close to his tank yet it didn’t even bother him.

It was the morning after their latest gig at the club while Rodimus was getting ready to record a new dish on his channel when he noticed the large empty dug up space beside Soundwaves garden. He asked the mech what he planned to do with it, when Soundwave stood behind him. Chassis to his back strut, servo resting on either side of him on the table as Rodimus stood comfortably waiting for his answer. Feeling his processor turn to bubbles as he enjoyed Soundwaves touch and presence.

“Purpose: cyber fruit and vegetable garden. Intended for: the spark that I wish to see beating beside me.”

Soundwaves words didn’t fully register to him for a few clicks but when they did he tried to tell Soundwave he deserved better. Someone who wanted to live and didn’t have to find reasons in the form of blogging channels and art. Someone who could give him everything he needed and wanted that didn’t have a spark condition caused by their own servo because they couldn’t handle living anymore.

To his patience Soundwave waited until Rodimus was finished before proving him wrong.

“Rodimus: normal like every mech. Suffered war. Consequence of survival follows all survivors. Soundwave: did not always want to wake either but group and hobbies makes things easier. Makes living better. Rodimus: makes Soundwave living better. Soundwave: wishes Rodimus saw himself as Soundwave sees him. Query: let Soundwave show Rodimus?”

Its hard to think past venting and leaning against the counter when Soundwave basically told him he wanted to spend his life besides him.

Its oddly grounding to let Soundwave rest his helm against his chassis. Feeling the beat of a strong spark so unlike his own against his audial that he finds himself wrapping his arms around him yearning for more. He closes his optics, feeling the ridges of Soundwaves frame against his own and the tentacles that release and wrap loosely around his waist. Those black and purple feelers tickle him lightly to ease his tension and Rodimus finds himself slipping from reality. Lost in the smell of Soundwaves scent of crystal flowers, heavy solvent cleaner and the natural musk that only Soundwave seemed to carry.

He’s whispering yes as he fades and feels his mind slip into a comfortable lull and he allows the former spy master and gladiator to lift him. They settle in Soundwaves berth where he gets lost entirely and welcomes a recharge he didn’t know possible.

At spark he’s awkward and has a hard time bringing up his feelings but the first thing he asks Soundwave when he wakes is if they can stay like this.

“I want to stay like this with you…I’ll give you anything I can to keep you. Whatever food you want, whatever dessert or song I can offer to ease your day. I’ll do it. I don’t really have much to offer but I can try.”

And really he’s never spoken so honestly from the spark that didn’t require him to without the presence of a battlefield.

His answer comes in the form of Soundwave resting his slim digits above Rodimus’ spark and speaking in the deep voice that Rodimus associated safety and happiness with.

“Rodimus: is the offer. An offer: Soundwave wishes to keep for himself forever.”

“Then you have me,” he gazes up, shifting closer, feeling their different sparks harmonize in a way neither have felt before.

They don’t merge sparks or conjunx in this moment. They decide to wait. Properly court the other with the intent to take their time while leaving a scent on the other so none will try intervening. Rodimus doesn’t think anybot will be interested in him til Soundwave points behind them while in the market to the multiple mechs and femmes staring at his aft and hips.

“Shut up,” his embarrassment is met with a smiley face on the purple mechs face plate. He can’t find it in himself to be upset especially when he receives Soundwaves tentacle wrapped around his waist while they continue on.

Not long after Rodimus meets his old friends Arcee and Springer who are extremely shocked by his paint job and new frame. He doesn’t tell them what happened or what he’s been through physically and mentally. Instead he tells them about his channel and they don’t pry. They see how happy he looks, how comfortable he is in silence now and see the bag of paint tubs on his arm.

“I started painting again,” he tells them and they get so excited for him. Asking if he’d like to come back to their apartment and catch up. They admit how much they miss him and don’t want to let time slip by again or go without talking to him in person for so long again.

He agrees because he truly did miss them too and no matter how much they differed in the past they always stuck by each other even when they didn’t understand the others reasoning. So nods a little misty in the optics and sets up a time. He’s about to leave when a feeler lightly tickles him before a tentacle rests below his spoiler.

He can’t help lighting up and feeling his processor become bubbly as he introduces Soundwave to Springer and Arcee. The two are in shock by how the two act towards each other but they roll with the flow. Soundwave is polite in greeting them with a nod and doesn’t do more than listen while Rodimus chats with them a bit more.

Soundwave is carrying the heavier bags and they notice Rodimus is wearing derma gloss and optic shadow. He once wore it during an undercover mission and they remember him saying he liked it but nothing ever cane about it. They were glad to see him doing things he liked and if Soundwave helped him to do them and made him happy, they wouldn’t object.

Especially when they saw how caring Soundwave was with Rodimus when they came to get him. Last they heard he was at Drift and Ratchets apartment but apparently he hadn’t been there for almost a month. They were surprised yet again by how happy they were to know he was at home with Soundwave in a lovely place instead of the cold and lonely apartment that would make Rodimus feel lonely.

“We’ll have him back before ya know gladiator mecha,” Arcee parted as she slung an arm around Rodimus neck with a wink at Soundwave to lightly tease him. The mech was surprised but didn’t reject it and Springer was thinking this could be good after all. Rodimus hadn’t really paid much mind since he didn’t feel any animosity in the air.

He ended up showing his friends the cooking channel he started and made them a traditional Nyonian meal that they devoured in one sitting making him laugh. He showed the art pieces he’d made and they recognized his humming to be the mech who sung at the night club. He admitted that was him but refused to sing. He enjoyed blushing and being nervous in a way that didn’t put him on edge. He felt at home with the two and congratulated them on becoming conjunx.

“Can’t wait to congratulate you and Mr.Cryptic at your conjunx ceremony,” Springer suggested wiggling an optic ridge as he elbowed Rodimus lightly.

“How many sparkling nieces and nephews are we gettin,” Arcee gushed, before going on about how she’s always wanted to be an aunty to Rodimus’s sparklings and how she couldn’t wait to buy all the cute outfits and teach her nieces and nephews a real fight since the boys could never keep up with her.

Rodimus felt his spoiler lower a bit but he brushed it off and asked the two what their plans were and what they’ve been up to. Arcee immediately dove into talking about her fighting studio and Springer actually decided to take up teaching self dense classes. They both traveled for their jobs together but spent most of the time apart so they could have venting room.

He was happy to hear about their travels and it reminded him how much he missed being in the stars and visiting other cultures.

He smiled listening to their stories when he felt himself growing tired. He was about to excuse himself when Arcee wrapped an around him and said she’d walk him back to their little brothers future Conjunx. Arcee was always so ready to make him feel humiliated in a way only a big sister could.

He didn’t realize how late it’d become until he was walking in the dark with Arcee who kept an arm around his neck. He appreciated the comfort but he also knew she was about to ask him something personal.

“Go ahead and ask already. I still don’t like emotional suspense.”

She laughed at that but began speaking anyway.

“Soundwave is really nice to you huh?”

He nodded, he knew thats not where she was going but he waited.

“I can’t see his optics but I can feel him,” he looked towards her waiting, “the way he feels around you is..the way bots in holo stories used to feel. Its like watching two characters get the best ending one can never picture happening in real life. Only, it is…”

He smiled at her before looking ahead seeing the area change to slowly become the large property Soundwave owned.

“What I’m saying is..I want you to enjoy all of it. I have everything I could ever want with Springer..Percy is coming by too with Brainstorm. I know Percy misses you a lot. I’ll make sure to tell him not to be overbearing though. You know how he is with you. Such a carrier,” she snorted making him laugh nodding.

“I..I know how you feel..how you used to feel about sparklings..I mean..and I know by how Soundwave feels around you that he’d give you whatever it is you desire and if you still crave having sparklings like you once did..you should have them..be it adoption or with you tanks..you should allow yourself that happiness. You deserve it. Me, Springer, Percy, even Blurr and Kup when they get back..we won’t let anyone do anything to you just because you’re a tank carrier. Alright, little sweet spark?”

He felt his shoulders shaking and optics fuzzing at Arcee’s words and he hated how small he felt in her arms. He felt like a sparkling needing their older sister all over again and he hated it. But he would never refuse the warm hug she gave him nor how he melted into her arms and cried his fears in the forms of sobs. Too scared to tell her what he’d done and how he might not even be able to have them anymore. How unworthy he felt to have them when he was littered in scars not received from a battlefield with a frame that bore the proof of his failed attempts.

“I don’t care what you’re telling yourself in that processor of yours Roddy. You always have and always will be a good mech, multiple mistakes and all. We all have them. Some just more than others while some can hide them. Point is, don’t hold yourself back. When you’re ready, do whats best, okay?”

He nodded his helmet, unable to form words and eventually, he wiped his face plate and smiled up at her a little.

“You’re so mean ta me,” he slipped, using his accent as she used her own. It made them both laugh and their departure easier with the promise of seeing each other very soon and him telling her to message him when she got home.

“Rodimus: okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, preparing a solvent bath, “I’m okay. Did you have fun?”

A nod and Soundwave joined Rodimus in the solvent bath where the smaller mech massaged the old wounds and kinks from the ex-gladiators frame. Soundwave reheated the bath after, gently removing the armor from Rodimus’ protoform. He took off the lower guard for his face plate and raised Rodimus wrists to his dermas where he placed wisp touches along the scars Rodimus bore after war.

This wasn’t the first time Soundwave had done so but every time he did Rodimus felt a part of himself break and reconnect inside.

He both feared and loved how intimate he could be with Soundwave. He’s never been open to such affections beyond quick fragging but he’s happy to say he’s fine with anything as long as its with Soundwave.

A few months past and Rodimus finds himself going back to Drift and Ratchets apartment to clean and welcome them home with Perceptor on his heels and Soundwave out with his friends enjoying a music festival.

After reuniting with Blurr, Kup, Brainstorm and Perceptor, Rodimus found his circle of friends growing again and he was happy with it. Of course, Perceptor was the one to pull him aside and carrier him asking about his loss of weight and paint change. Rodimus was never good at lying to Perceptor or any of the wreckers really, but especially Kup and Perceptor. Kup knew he’d hear everything from Percy and Percy wasn’t leaving until he got answers.

It was…painful, sharing what he’d done to himself to another beside Soundwave. He expected scolding, frustration, even anger or told he was illogical. He wasn’t expecting a frame hug that popped his plating out of place and tears.

Perceptor understood the best he could and wouldn’t let Rodimus out of his sight or arms after. It wasn’t too questionable when they came back to the group hours later but it was a noticeable question in the air that the others didn’t bring up thankfully.

Later that day Kup came by with Percy to bear hug his popped plating back into place and he felt guilt for making the old mech shed a tear but Kup told him not to.

“Bots have fights all time..sometimes…its with themselves. When you have a fight with yourself next time lil one, we’ll be there to have your back. Okay?”

It meant more than he thought possible and he finally felt his world fully shifting into place. And with the arrival of Drift and Ratchet finally returning he was happy to have it come full circle as he greeted the two along with Percy who stayed further back so the three could greet each other.

Rodimus wasn’t surprised when Drift hugged him since the mech was a real hug creature at spark, he was startled when Ratchet hugged him but he did hug the mech back.

“Welcome back guys. I hope you enjoyed your vacation,” he smiled leading them to the kitchen that smelled like utopia. The two were practically drooling at the mouth smelling Rodimus’ food and Perceptor was already eating his own plate at a distance after waving at the two.

“Roddy? Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“I got into a cooking channel that turned into me starting my own,” he smiled. He nodded to Percy who stood there for a while before hugging him and telling him to message him when he was heading home.

“I’m fine Percy, I can walk back home. Its not that far,” he laughed.

Perceptor just looked at him with a smile and nuzzled his helmet repeating himself. “If you need me I’ll be with Brainstorm at the collectors show. Mech needs to be taught how to appreciate good quality instead the things he brings home.”

“You guys foreplay is still so weird to me,” Rodimus laughed being a little slag before giving Percy a kiss to the side of his face plate and pushing him out the door.

When he came back Ratchet and Drift were looking so confused and mildly hurt?, so Rodimus quickly cleared the air.

“Percy has always been such a carrier ever since he met me. You probably didn’t see it on the ship but he’s basically my carrier. He even got it documented legally,” Rodimus laughed.

“Him and Brainstorm are conjunx. Oh he say’s hi and welcome back and so Arcee, Kup, Springer and Blurr. They’ll come see you guys later when they have time,” Rodimus smiled cleaning up the last of the dishes.

The two quickly understood about Percy because him and Brainstorm did have something going on while on the Lost light and he was a bit of a hover when he was near Rodimus which was actually quite a bit now that they thought about it. It made sense Rodimus was Percy’s bitlet but they were confused about one thing in particular.

“Hey Roddy? What did he mean by message him when you get home?”

“Oh! Sorry about that! I meant to tell you guys but I didn’t wanna disrupt your vacation and I was so busy making sure it was clean for you when got back. I moved out a while ago, it hasn’t been long but long enough to make sure it wasn’t too dusty for when you came back. Oh and it’ll never be close to repaying you but I left a little something for you guys.”

Rodimus went over to the drawer and pulled out an envelope handing it to the shocked couple.

“I wanted to pay you back. I’ll never be able to pay you back in full but..I wanted to try,” Rodimus smiled shrugging his shoulders.

Inside was a nice amount of money one didn’t just come by in a few months of hard work.

“Kid, how did you get all this?”

Ratchet looked like he’d blown a gasket and it made Rodimus laugh.

“I’m really good at drawing and painting and so I started an art channel and people donated money and paid for my paintings.”

Rodimus went back to the counter to fix the crystal flowers he’d left. They still looked as beautiful as ever and it made him feel bubbly in the processor all over until he was pulled from his thoughts.

“Ya take up gardening too kid?”

Ratchet was smirking when he said and Drift was looking shocked still.

“Kid ya didn’t have to move out ya know? We like having ya around.”

His smile was gentle and it made Rodimus spoiler flicker.

“I..really..thank you Ratchet, that means a lot to me.”

“Oh, no I don’t garden plants..I kill them actually,” the pout on his face was beautiful but the next emotion was a jump of his spoiler and he looked excited.

“These came from Soundwave actually! He gifted them to me at our first gig at a nightclub. He says hi too but he’s at a music festival with his friends right now.”

They’d never seen Rodimus’s spoilers express so much feeling and it left them with a growing ache in the chassis.

“But I’m really good at gardening food. For some reason I kill plants but the crystal fruit and veggies I planted at home are thriving,” he shrugged. “I definitely want you guys to come by and taste em when you can. I think you’ll really like my strawberry crystals Ratch, they’re nice and sweet just how ya like. Drift I planted some melon and grapefruit crystals too. I can get em less sweet since you don’t really like that.”

“Woah, slow down Roddy…you said at home..with Soundwave?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” Rodimus blushed looking to the side. “We um..we’re..Soundwave is..” his spark left off a little wave of love and the two felt it.

“Sorry! Sorry. I still can’t control that,” he bashfully chuckled, rubbing at his chassis above his spark making Ratchet slip into medic mode.

He was on rodimus before the other could tell him he was fine.

“Wait, Ratch. I’m fine promise. My doc already knows and I take meds for it. It was just from excitement.”

Ratchet wasn’t at all happy with hearing Rodimus developed a spark condition while they were away and Drift was about to worry himself out of his frame plating with how jittery he looked standing behind him about to help Ratchet open his chassis right where they stood.

“Kid,” Ratchet was putting on his medical scanner over his optic and reading Rodimus’s vitals before coming to a stop when he saw the diagnosis.

“Don’t.”

He stepped back from both of them.

“Just..tell him when I leave okay?”

His spoiler fell and he wrapped an arm around his waist. They could see how much weight he lost and they were obvious to his paint change. Its just now Ratchet knew why and soon Drift would too.

“I’m fine now. I promise.”

He turned his helm looking towards the door when Ratchet pulled him into a hug.

“Kid. Please..don’t ever..don’t..don’t do that again. Please?”

“What the frag is going on?”

Drift was panicking and Roddy hated to see his friend panic like that.

“I’m not dying! I just, did something in the past..I’m okay now.”

Roddy left Ratchets hug and hugged Drift who squeezed him tight. When he felt the hug loosen before becoming almost unbearable he knew Ratchet shared his diagnosis.

“I’m fine now. Promise.”

He smiled a little.

“Its you guys welcome home celebration. Probably shouldn’t be worrying about this when we should be celebrating hm?”

They were extremely reluctant but allowed Rodimus to pour them and himself a glass of high grade, though they noticed he didn’t pour much into his own.

“I’m glad you guys made it back safe. I missed you both. So tell me, what all did you do on your vacation? Please don’t tell me the frag stories I’m traumatized enough from Brainstorm telling me his and Percy’s,” he informed breaking the tension making the two laugh.

He smiled listening intently at every story told and before he knew it, it was getting really late and he was yawning into his servo.

“I’m really glad you guys had so much fun. I can’t wait till next month.”

“Next month?”

“Yeah! Me and Soundwave are going off world. I miss going into space so he got us a nice lil ship to travel to a sister planet. It won’t be for long but I’m so excited.”

The two noticed the way his optics glazed and his spoiler lifted to full tilt. The way his spark hummed a little louder and his smile was brighter. The way his servos came to his waist as if expecting another to be waiting right there for him. The gestation pouch on his tanks that they never saw before. How light his laughter grew and how calm his shoulders looked.

It hurt as much as he looked beautiful.

What ifs ran through their processor as the night came to a close and a knock sounded on their door. Rodimus got up to answer with a sway in his step that didn’t feel sexual at all. He was comfortable with a processor that was floating in a way all too familiar to the stories one read in books.

“Hi Soundwave. Back from the festival already?”

“Soundwave: had fun. Purpose: to greet Rodimus friends and ensure safety.”

They saw the way Soundwave handled Rodimus and the way his tentacles looped around his waist resting comfortably around him. The way Rodimus melted into Soundwave and almost forgot his surroundings told them everything they feared.

“I hope to see you guys soon. Message me when you want to meet up after settling back home again? If ya need I’ll be more than happy to come back and cook. I don’t want Drift burning the apartment down,” Rodimus laughed.

He came over to give them one final hug before parting with a wave and Soundwave nodding at them.

“Rodimus: enjoy welcome party?”

“It was fun,” they heard him say as they disappeared behind the complex’s door.

Leaving them to stand in the doorway with sparks aching and optics longing.

“We were too late Ratty…”

“It seems that way kid…”

Ratchets sigh wasn’t enough to hide his disappointment and sadness.

“It seems that way.”

Back in their home Rodimus laid in their nest where he made a little extra space that gave him and Soundwave more room.

The room was dark save for his blue optics and spark that ignited the space and four purple optics that gazed so softly at him accompanied by a purple spark that he thought the world of.

He was so happy he failed all those many months ago.

If he hadn’t, he would be missing out the most beautiful mech with the most beautiful spark in existence.

It’s something he never plans to miss out on.

[vinceaddams]

a lot of people, when they start learning how to sew, will see instructions about pressing carefully and staystitching and basting and grainline and machine tension and such, and will go "ehh, I can ignore that and save some time" and then later they'll go "why do my seams look so bad? :(" and. well.. that's why.

[ruvviks]

the way i need to write about roksana so bad

[supercantaloupe]

apparently i'm already halfway done my musicology degree??

[icewindandboringhorror]

I think the hardest thing in writing for me sometimes is the like “show don’t tell/let people communicate through subtext/Normal People don’t just walk around openly explaining their motivations for everything That’s Unnatural” thing because like.. I literally DO walk around openly explaining my motivations for everything, that is how I talk, I am an analytical detail oriented over-communicator who explains everything as thoroughly as possible and and will give a fully detailed 2 minute long answer to something simple like “how are you doing today?” .. like it’s hard to make things sound Natural and Normal when you yourself are inherently unnatural and abnormal in your methods of communication to an extent lol

[waywardsalt]

thinking abt linebeck’s coat. something very alluring about it for some reason. so im just gonna ramble about it here instead of in the tags for once

you can probably start a fight between the people who think it’s a coat and people who think it’s a jacket but i think it’s a coat moving on

the character designs are interesting to look at due to the proportions and art style so it is hard to imagine how long his coat would be but i think it would go down to a bit above ankles because i think that’s good. it’s a bit more dramatic a bit more impressive(?) that way and would probably lead to problems tbh

based on some of the official art i imagine that the stripe at the bottom might’ve been a late addition since it’s missing in the bit of official art most used to represent linebeck. tbh linebeck is inconsistent in very tiny ways in the official art but that’s mostly if you’re gonna be nit-picky or bored enough to notice

his coat is so good it’s simple but very recognizable and stands out among the other character designs in ph and its just. yknow good character design

its also surprisingly good for headcanons and stuff and because i mostly take a lot of canon as suggestion i have a good handful of headcanons tagged specifically onto his coat (one of which is the length of it ig)

i like to imagine that he made it himself. i’ve seen stuff where people write linebeck as being able to fix link’s tunic when it gets torn and i feel like the logical extreme of that is that he made his own coat. i think that adds a layer of. importance to it? it’s unique it’s solely linebeck’s it’s tied to him because he made it with his own hands and maybe it can represent something about him that way?

i like to imagine that in addition to the normal pockets one the outside he’s got a whole lot of little pockets on the inside of the coat, like so many pockets that he hides little trinkets or tools or things he steals in either to keep or to take back to his ship for whatever reason. some of the pockets have little flaps of whatever they’re called that can be secured in place with a small button to keep stuff in

he’s got like pencils and a compass and little notes and tiny figurines and cool rocks and feathers and all kinds of little things he thought was worth keeping around and due to that his coat is uncomfortable sometimes but if he knows for certain he’s going to be busy doing stuff he’ll empty out all of the pockets and only leave the important stuff so that it’s lighter and less uncomfortable. link finds his coat lying around at some point and is caught so badly off-guard by how surprisingly heavy it is with all of the bullshit he keeps in all of his pockets

i also imagine he values it a lot, maybe to the point of being really possessive and protective of it, not letting link touch it and if it gets torn or stained he shuts down and has to fix it before he can move on to anything else, and if he can’t fix it at the time it leave him kind of overwhelmed or upset until he can fix it. he has a lot stocked-up materials specifically for his coat to avoid a situation where he has to go for while with his coat damaged

backing away from headcanon territory, his coat is just a cool bit of character design and has just been lodged in my mind for a while. its cool and never brought up within the game (obviously) and i guess a last little closing thought is that in the cutscene where oshus teleports link above linebeck it kinda looks like his coat moves when he tries to catch link and i think that’s cool

[missshame]

I hate studying I just wanna create stuff and see the world I hate how little control I have over my life

[umilily]

sometimes i'm scared that i've been this way for so long that i don't know how to be anything else anymore.

[strixhaven]

red flag characters to a certain degree don’t exist and the entire concept is pretty dumb and nuanceless because what it means to like and appreciate a character varies so much from person to person and fandom to fandom and thus is basically impossible to generalize. that being said if there ever was one though it’s definitely anders dragon age

[marshmellowtea]

“minorities should not be expected to coddle their oppressors”, “people often get angry and exhausted from having to answer the same questions over and over again”, and “minorities are allowed to be angry about their oppression” AND “you shouldn’t be overly nasty to people who are genuinely trying to ask questions about things they don’t understand”, “privilege can blind people to experiences that may seem obvious to you so sometimes well meaning people are going to ask questions you think are stupid or obvious”, and “people tend not to want to listen to people who they feel are shouting at them for no reason” are all true statements and yet trying to take all of them into account feels like an impossible balancing act most of the time

[arthur-r]

hey so im going to nebraska on thursday that’s a thing that’s happening

[soy-sauce-and-mothra]

Hey! Are there blacksmiths in your story? I'm a hobbyist blacksmith and I'm here to help!

Blacksmithing is one of those things that a lot of people get wrong because they don't realize it stuck around past the advent of the assembly line. Here's a list of some common misconceptions I see and what to do instead!

Not all blacksmiths are gigantic terrifying muscly guys with beards and deep voices. I am 5'8, skinny as a twig, have the muscle mass of wet bread, and exist on Tumblr. Anybody who is strong enough to pick up a hammer and understands fire safety can be a blacksmith.

You can make more than just swords with blacksmithing. Though swords are undeniably practical, they're not the only things that can be made. I've made candle holders, wall hooks, kebab skewers, fire pokers, and more. Look up things other people have made, it's really amazing what can be done.

"Red-hot" is actually not that hot by blacksmith terms. when heated up, the metal goes from black, to red, to orange, to yellow, to white. (for temperature reference, I got a second degree burn from picking up a piece of metal on black heat) The ideal color to work with the metal is yellow. White is not ideal at all, because the metal starts sparking and gets all weird and lumpy when it cools. (At no point in this process does the metal get even close to melting. It gets soft enough to work with, but I have never once seen metal become a liquid.)

Blacksmithing takes fucking forever. Not even taking into account starting the forge, selecting and preparing metal, etc. etc. it takes me around an hour to make one (1) fancy skewer. The metals blacksmiths work with heat up and cool down incredibly fast. When the forge is going good, it only takes like 20 seconds to get your metal hot enough to work with, but it takes about the same time for it to cool down, sometimes even less.

As long as you are careful, it is actually stupidly easy to not get hurt while blacksmithing. When I picked up this hobby I was like "okay, cool! I'm gonna make stuff, and I'm gonna end up in the hospital at some point!" Thus far, the latter has yet to occur. I've been doing this for nearly a year. I have earned myself a new scar from the aforementioned second degree burn, and one singe mark on my jeans. I don't even wear gloves half the time. Literally just eye protection, common sense, and fast reflexes and you'll probably be fine. (Accidents still happen of course, but I have found adequate safety weirdly easy to achieve with this hobby)

A forge is not a fire. The forge is the thing blacksmiths put their metal in to heat it up. It starts as a small fire, usually with newspaper or something else that's relatively small and burns easily, which we then put in the forge itself, which is sort of a fireplace-esque thing (there's a lot of different types of forge, look into it and try to figure out what sort of forge would make the most sense for the context you're writing about) and we cover it with coal, which then catches fire and heats up. The forge gets really hot, and sometimes really bright. Sometimes when I stare at the forge for too long it's like staring into the sun. The forge is also not a waterfall of lava, Steven Universe. It doesn't work like that, Steven Universe.

Welding and blacksmithing are not the same thing. They often go hand-in-hand, but you cannot connected two pieces of metal with traditional blacksmithing alone. There is something called forge welding, where you heat your metal, sprinkle borax (or the in-universe equivalent) on it to prevent the metal from oxidizing/being non-weldable, and hammer the pieces together very quickly. Forge welding also sends sparks flying everywhere, and if you're working in a small space with other blacksmiths, you usually want to announce that you're welding before you do, so that everyone in a five-foot radius can get out of that five-foot radius. You also cannot just stuck some random pebbles into the forge and get a decent piece of metal that you can actually make something with, Steven Universe. It doesn't work like that, Steven Universe.

Anvils are really fucking heavy. Nothing else to add here.

Making jewelry is not a blacksmithing thing unless you want jewelry made of steel. And it will be very ugly if you try. Blacksmithing wasn't invented to make small things.

If there's anything here I didn't mention, just ask and I'll do my best to answer.