#Stop Cancer In Its Tracks

[kangals]

What made you go for another collie instead of another greyhound? Do you think you'll ever have a greyhound again?

collies share a lot of the traits i liked most about living with greyhounds (sensitive, non-aggressive, medium-low energy, healthy, long snoot). they also improve on a lot of the grey-traits i didn't like so much (versatility, weather tolerance, prey drive, fragility). there's some tradeoffs (barking, grooming) but i've found them to be an overall compatibility improvement. plus, i already have some experience/connections in the breed from stellina, so it was a foot in the door when looking for a second dog.

i don't know if i can see myself with another grey. i still love them and their gentle souls and long twiggy legs and morose faces, they pull at my heartstrings like nothing else. i'll still stop and say hello when i see them and make a big fuss while they lean on me. but every time i meet one, all i can think now is "you're not boone." and i don't know how long it will take me to reconcile with that, if ever.

[teaboot]

I feel like if you're using a lot of disposable plastic bags in your day to day life, you've gotta do something sustainable to make up for it. Like using bamboo toilet paper or eco friendly cat litter or something, yknow

Honestly I exaggerate for comedic effect, while I DO routinely use ziplock bags to hold spaghetti I cook maybe once a month and the bag itself is usually for freezer storage. I actually throw out maybe one bag a week? I DO hate washing plates and tupperware and junk but that usually just means I eat sandwiches without a plate.

I agree though that needless waste should be avoided, and I do avoid it- biodegradable bags and recyclables, empty butter tubs used to store leftovers, etc.

This said, though, not applicable necessarily for myself but for a lot of others- I feel that it's importat to remember that there are many people who legitimately NEED things like plastic straws, or catheters, or pre-packaged foods

And the idea that that's a moral failing that individuals need to personally make up for when a single billionaire blows out more CO2 in a long weekend than I will in my whole life on a superjet meet-cute in the Bolivian rainforest between humvee drag races funded by the river-polluting textiles plants they planted in a third world country to avoid EPA laws and give an entire village stillbirths and stomach cancer is an idea that those very same bigwigs have spent a LOT of time and money investing in planting in the public psyche.

Like- Glass bottles are infinitely recyclable, so why are so many drinks in plastic now? Loads of drinks manufacturers used to buy them back and clean them for re-use, so why did they stop? If they chose to make something out of a limited and environmentally irresponsible material, why is it my failing to track down a correct process of disposal for them? What if there are none in my area? Do I lobby for more recycling plants in my area? Do I set aside some of my limited time outside the pain factory of my job- which I have more than one of, thanks to rising costs of things just like that drink I just emptied- to properly dispose of this company's waste FOR them?

Say coca-cola just rolled up to your town and started dumping millions of empty plastic bottles in the street, going, "wow, you should really think about building and staffing a recycling depot, it would be really shameful of you to just put these in the trash." When companies purposefully use materials with limited lifespans- because yes, even plastic can only be reused so many times- and tell you it's your own fault if it harms the environment- that's essentially what they're doing, just with more steps.

Yes, its important to be as environmentally concious as we can in our day to day life, but responsible sustainability is not catholicism. We don't get good boy points from our lord and savior Captain Planet every time the average low-income household gathers together to hold hands and repent for a single-use plastic that allows them to access something they need.

Entire families could eat trees and shit dead lithium batteries for years and still not do as much damage to the planet as an average dye plant or braindead celebrity does in a week just for fun, and I'm mad about it

...this went on longer than intended.

TL/DR: DO recycle and minimize waste, but don't beat yourself up over the little waste you can't avoid, and follow the money.

EDIT: Part 2

[promisingyounglady]

accident. | JP x Reader

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Wife!Reader

SYNOPSIS: we all make accidents. javier forgetting to pick you up at the train station was an accident. you forgetting to bring an umbrella was an accident. throwing a knife at your husband? you’re going to have prove that one was an accident to him.

WC: 3.6k

WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, mentions of weapons and knives, reader throws a knife at javier *just read you’ll find out*, implied age gap, established relationship, javier is a bit older than reader, domestic au, slight dom!javi, mentions of food and cooking, profanity, bratty!reader, reader is mean but javier can be meaner, floor sex, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, handcuffs, cum eating, brief oral (f recieving), slight non-con, rough sex, praise, degradation, post-sex sweetness, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE: obsessed and mentally ill. so here’s slightly dom!javi with a ton of angst

A headache ensues in Javier’s mind.

He tries to combat it with the clouds of smoke rising through the air, the comfortable scent of tobacco and cigarettes filling his nose as he takes a drag from the stick perched in between his blistered fingers, this inhale, longer than the last.

Today had been shit. It really had. All day he had been cooped up in the office with stacks of paperwork almost taller than himself, tossed onto him and Murphy's desk by the higher ups, a high demand for deadlines with their patience being low.

Javier had been sitting in his office for almost seven hours straight, looking at papers with tiny writing and filing reports with pen until sensitive pink blisters formed around a hand that should’ve been driving and carrying a gun today, out in the field on a mission another team had instead been tasked with.

He’s getting old for this stuff, and he knows its true when he feels a strain in his back from shifting in his seat.

Maybe that’s why they shoved the paperwork in the old man’s hands.

Javier leans forward, grabbing his almost empty pack of cigarettes from his desk, deciding a fourth one was necessary for tonight.

“Javier,” a voice calls for him, looking up when he sees the new secretary holding the phone facing her chest. “You’ve got a call”

“From who” he says gruffly, brows furrowed. He lights the cigarette with his lighter, tossing it onto his desk and taking another puff.

“It’s your wife,” The secretary states. “she’s asking what you want for dinner.”

Javier stops in the middle of flicking the ashes, letting the cigarette sit warm in his fingers when he turns his head so he could see her correctly.

Your sweet voice calls out through the receiver, a chill running down Javier's spine when he makes out that it really is you.

“Yeah, Sherry, it’s fine if he’s busy, just let him know I called. Tell him dinner’ll be late tonight, at around 10.” you piped up sweetly, saying goodbye to your husband's secretary before hanging up the call.

She leaves after telling him what he already heard, but Javier is quick to immediately put out the burning cigarette and quickly grab his coat, making his way out the office.

“Peña, Where are you going? We only got a few more stacks left” Murphy calls out, hair in a mess from the many stressful tugs and his own cigarette nestled in between his fingers.

“my wife.” Javier replies, suddenly not liking the bitter taste in his mouth.

“It’s raining outside, you’re gonna get drenched” the blonde tells him, shaking his head as he took a drag from his own cancer stick.

Javier stops in his tracks, looking outside the window to see his partner was right. It was pouring out there, hardly able to even make out the cars in the parking lot.

Him getting wet was the least of his worries. It was you, he was thinking of.

“Fucking hell.”

_

You set the receiver down on the living room table. The ticking of the clock resonating in the silent house before a sigh finally escaping your lips.

Droplets of rain water cloud your vision, cheeks pink from the cold as water dripped onto your wooden floorboards.

Fists clench and unclench around the handle of the umbrella given to you by an old lady at the train station.

“A girl like yourself shouldn’t be alone in the rain, mija” she insisted, letting you take her frilly umbrella as her son would pick her up shortly.

Javier was supposed to pick you up too.

But after forty minutes of standing out in the rainy weather under a flimsy roof as you waited for his truck to pick you up, you disappointedly caught a taxi and drove home by yourself

You were returning from your visit to your sick grandmother. You were her only granddaughter who she called the week prior, telling you how she missed you and wanted you to visit.

Javier insisted you went, not wanting to hold you back and assured he would come to pick you up at the station after the weekend spent with her.

What a fucking liar, you thought to yourself.

You quickly undressed your wet clothes, the outcome of having to have walked in rain to find an available taxi this evening.

You're curious to see the look on Javier’s face when you make him beg on his knees and ask for forgiveness. Maybe you wouldn’t even kiss him tonight, thinking in silence as you prepared for dinner.

You definitely weren’t trying to think about what an excellent opportunity this was to be a brat.

—

Javier parks into his quiet drive way exactly thirty minutes before 10. That’s thirty minutes of trying to get on your good graces and pray that he wouldn’t be sleeping outside tonight.

When he opens the door to the house, his heart beats fast. Prepared to see you ready to lash out at him, he’s instead surprised with the aromas of spices and your homemade cooking wafting to his nose, unconsciously realizing that he skipped lunch today from how caught up he was with work.

Picking up your wet jacket from the floor, Javier slots his keys and sunglasses in the bowl by the entrance, hanging his own jacket as well before he makes his way quietly to the glowing kitchen.

The stovepot is on a low boil, and he sees you in a long t-shirt, one that you made sure wasn’t his. Your hair is damp, probably from a shower as you swiftly work your hands away in prepping the vegetables.

Javier mumbles quietly in a gruff voice. “You, uh, left your coat on the floor.”

Thwack.

An aggressive chop at the carrots replaces your words, each cut piercing louder like a gunshot ringing in his ears.

“Hermosa, I am so sorry.“ Javier begins sighing because he knows he fucked up real bad this time.

Thwack. You moved onto the chicken meat.

“There’s no excuse baby, I wasn’t keeping track after being cooped up in the office today.” he sighs, brows furrowing as big brown eyes stared into your back.

Thwack. Thwack.

The DEA agent flinches at the sound of the raw chicken being butchered by your swift, angry hands. You’re not facing Javier directly and yet he can already see your glaring eyes. He sighs, not wanting to fight you. He tries to lighten the mood, voice soft as he comments.

“Qué te ha hecho ese pobre pollo”

You don’t reply, let alone acknowledge your husband, continuing to brutally dice the chicken on the cutting board before turning around to wash your hands.

Javier watches you swiftly work in your kitchen, feeling sorry as he still watches you prepare dinner for the two of you after such a long train ride.

He moves forward, rolling his sleeves as he tries to help you . “Querida, I’ll help with the pot-”

The clang of the knife hitting the cutting board echoes in the kitchen, finally looking up to face your husband. Javier leans back, resting against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and gun holsters unremoved after coming home.

You try to ignore how tired he genuinely looks, reminding yourself you were just the same when standing all alone for that one hour.

“Y’know what Javier?” You begin, eyes watering and nose twitching in anger. Javier stays silent, staring at you with sincerity.

“Fuck you” you spit, pointing an accusing finger at the man. “fuck you and your fucking DEA work, Javier”

“Mi-”

“I had to wait forty minutes outside in rainy weather, trying to see if every car passing by would be yours.” you said, voice breaking towards the end. You felt uncomfortable waiting by yourself.

Javier shuts his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he tries to calm you down. He draws your name out in a firm but gentle tone.

You ignore him, replacing his words with your attitude. “You always do this!” you exclaim, voice rising.

“Leaving your wife and family second while you think it’s cool to go and chase criminals while risking your goddamn life.” You mutter, glaring at your husband.

“I didn’t want to leave you at the station all alone, honey. I’ve been sitting at my desk since afternoon drowning in paperwork the higher-ups dumped on us” he presses, eyes sincere but patience wearing thin.

You scoff, shaking your head. “So even stupid paperwork makes you forget your wife.”

Javier pinches his nose bridge, his head pounding as he tries to communicate with you.

You go back to cutting your vegetables, mumbling under your breath. “Who the fuck in Bogotá is giving you credit for slaving away all day trying to catch Escobar, hm?”

The words pierce through Javier’s heart.

Your eyes light up in fake sarcasm. “Oh, I bet it’s the fact that you’re too busy being a fucking doormat to all the younger agents at work aren’t you? What, Murphy said he can’t do his share of the work so he gave you his leftovers?” You spit.

“Hey," Javier snapped, gruffly and darkly. He looked at you, eyes narrowed and dark. "Stop it. I've told you."

Anger gets the best of you as you turn to the cutting board. Grabbing the first thing you saw.

A carrot piece shoots in his way. Javier flinches, the food hitting his chest. Your husband stands there, stunned at his wife’s childish behavior.

“Go fuck yourself, Peña” you say menacingly.

“We don’t throw food in this house, mama” he barks, hands on the hips of his belt, gun and badge tucked in his back. He would never use them on you.

A celery stick slaps Javier in the face this time, making his patience hanging on by a thread even thinner.

Maybe he could whip out the handcuffs.

“Dont you fucking call me that!” you said spitefully, throwing anything and everything you could at the man who dodged your attacks.

“Querida!” Javier raises his voice at you, a growl in his words.

You felt the cold, hard material in your hands for a split second before you’re throwing it at him, almost wondering yourself why you were getting so angry at Javier.

You didn’t want to fight this bad, but at the same time you were sick of watching him work himself to death, forgetting about you. This wasn’t the first time he did something like this.

But you already crossed that line. You both stand in silence, holding your breath as you realized what you threw.

Now it was your turn to fuck things up.

Javier’s lip snarls and his mustache is in a scary frown when he shifts his head.

Only a few inches beside his face lands a dull potato knife, wedged in the kitchen cupboards above. It wouldn’t have worked on anything since it was unsharpened and unused, but the tremendous force you had thrown it with allowed it to have been lodged in the wood.

You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth.

You both watch Javier slowly raise his hand, pulling the knife inches beside his head with ease before tossing it into the sink. The clatter of the metal blade hitting the sink rings in the kitchen. A swarm of guilt fills your chest as you stand still in fear.

“Javi… I-I’m so sorry” you say, heart beating against your chest, cautiously awaiting a reaction from him.

Javier dusts off the carrot peels on his shoulder, watching as his jaw tenses but shoulders relax.

“Come here.” he all but says quietly. You see Javier reaching for his back pocket, taking out his gun and badge and placing it on the counter.

That wasn’t what scared you.

What scared you was then seeing Javier pull out the silver handcuffs lodged in his back pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight of him playing around with them.

“Javi, I’ll go get the-“

“Come. Here.” Javier cuts you off, staring at you with dark eyes.

You swiftly shake your head, refusing to go. “It was an accident!” You exclaimed, dashing out the kitchen as you tried to escape Javier who was hot on your heels.

“Honey.” he says in a not so endearing way, a warning edge to his voice.

Tears littered your cheeks, knowing that you pushed Javier’s limits and that he would really punish you for how bratty you had been tonight.

You gasp, running up the stairs before strong arms encaged your frame, desperately trying to escape before shrieking in surprise as Javier hoisted you over his shoulder, a loud and painful smack being brought down to your ass by his strong hands. You grimaced, helplessly being brought to the kitchen in swift strides.

”It was an accident, I’m sorry, I was just so angry!” You wailed, groaning as your back hit the carpeted floors of your living room. Your vision was hazy, the dizziness getting to you as you saw Javier leave the room into the kitchen, and come back a few moments later. This time, he was unbuttoning his shirt, his forest of chest hair and strong muscles peeking through.

Javier took a deep breath, eying the way your t-shirt had hiked all the way up so your panties were showing. Your hair spread around your head like a halo, and he noticed how you clenched your thighs together in vulnerability.

“Some accidents need to be punished, baby” he muttered darkly.

You sobbed softly, nose red as you turned your head to the side, looking away from Javi’s menacing look. He didn’t mind, he knew once he was done messing with you, you would be clawing at his chest, begging him to fuck you properly while looking into his eyes. Javier leans down at your level, crawling on your body so he was on top and you were trapped on the bottom. He rips your t-shirt off of you, leaving you in your bare state with panties flimsy enough he could rip them with his teeth. Not today though, he had other things in mind.

He coos at your weak state, dropping his head so he could press a kiss to your sensitive neck, giving a small nip that made you yelp. Two large hands come to play with your nipples, pulling each one hard in between his fingers as you moaned hysterically.

“What did I say about being fucking mean?” He says roughly. He inhales your scent, smelling a sweet sense of fear.

“Carino,” a warm voice calls out, you can feel the grin spreading on Javier’s face. You cry in a mix of pain and pleasure when he flips you on your tummy, cheek pressing against the rough carpet material as Javier slots his hard member encased in his jeans, right by the curve of your ass.

“Answer me, mama”

A clinking of metal makes you cry out in protest. No, you wanted to say, feeling Javier cuff you behind your back like you were one of his petty drug thiefs. But a slap to your ass cheek makes you gasp, eyes shutting as Javier pulls your panties off.

”Being mean gets me punished” you responded softly, a pool of desire aching in your folds as you almost tutted your ass up to show him you were ready. “I’m sorry, Javier” you sniffled quietly, hoping he would hear.

Javier laughs, cocking his head to the side as one hand groped the flesh of your bum, and the other undid his belt buckle. The sound makes your mouth water, wondering if he’ll let you suck him off too for forgiveness.

“So you do know how to be nice?” He groans, giving you no time before his hard members penetrates your entrance, head turning back and eyes rolling when you clenched around his dick so well. “Javier!” You screamed, eyes rolling back in pleasure from the strong stretch.

Your arms ached, desperate for release so you could brace yourself against the floor for every hard thrust your husband would give you.

“Listen carefully, querida” he moans into your ear, humping you as you moaned loudly. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up, alright?” When there was no answer, he slapped your cheek again, this time echoing throughout the living room and leaving a red splotch on your ass. “Answer me.” He growled, patience growing thin from your pathetic wailing.

You grit your teeth, hating the fact that you were supposed to be mad at Javier for forgetting about you, and yet here you were receiving back shots with a stinging red ass.

”Yes, Javier” you said back, feeling his girth stretch your walls.

”Good. And once I’m done fucking my pretty wife, you’re gonna suck me off like you mean it. That sounds good mi amor?”

You nodded in return, eyes shut and panting like a slut from the feeling of Javier slowing down his thrusts, deepening every stroke.

“Yes, Javier” you repeated.

He smiled, kissing your neck sweetly, contrasting his hip movements. “Thank you, mama” he replied, cherishing your sweet moans and gasps as he went at a deeper, harder pace.

It’s delirious, the whole situation. You feel as though you’re on cloud nine with the way Javier is so possessive of you, caging you like a butterfly in his garden with the apple of desire.

You felt sinful. You felt glorious. You needed his release to fill you up so badly.

“Javi…” you muttered, tits starting to get carpet burn from being fucked against the ground.

“I know mama, you’re doing so good for me. Taking your lesson so well” he groans, sweat beading at his forehead.

You were aching and begging for orgasm, but feeling Javier rut into you so passionately made it all worth it. It dissolved any anger, any resentment from earlier because you knew how good he could take care of you.

“You’re so fucking mean sometimes, you know that?” he tells you, brows furrowed and concentrated on fucking the daylights out of you. You could feel the handprints marking your hips, wondering how many of Javier’s marks would be on you tomorrow morning.

“I know” you sigh, feeling a slap come down on your ass as you groan louder.

“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, you know that too?” you pant, squirming under your cuffs. Javier shudders, your walls sucking him a little too well.

“I know.” He says back gruffly.

Javier feels the knot untying in his stomach, too late to tell you verbally as you felt his warm seed leak inside, cumming first.

“Merida”

You were also close, loving how despite already coming, Javier was fucking you so that you could cum too.

”I’m gonna” you pant, forgetting to finish your words as you felt hot liquid threatening to spill from every stroke he made in your hole.

Javier whispers, pressing ticklish kisses from his mustache to your bare shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby, you know what to do” he muttered, both of you groaning loudly as both your releases became mixed inside you.

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you scream, hair a mess and pussy aching.

You feel dizzy, used but happy, shivering as a large sludge of your cum spills out and drips down your thigh to the carpet.

Javier is quick to lap you up with his tongue, slotting his face in your ass as he filthily cleans you up.

“Can you get these off me, please?” you ask him meekly, relishing the feeling of your sensitive wrists when they touch the cool air.

Your husband presses a kiss to each one, marking your ass and shoulders with playful hickeys and bruises.

You both catch your breath for a moment, Javier turning you over so you were facing the ceiling, your sensitive tits perking up.

It’s all so sudden but before you two realize it, you’re latching onto each other immediately, hungrily sharing a kiss as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Hermosa,” he tries to begin, before being shushed by you, pulling him back in to lovingly kiss your husband.

Sure, rough sex was great, but god did you love just kissing Javier absentmindedly. You had to touch each other, kiss each other, that was how you two made up.

“Lo siento, hermosa” he sighs, wanting to get lost in your embrace. You smile, knowing that Javier is sincere. “Me too.” You reply, voices hushed as it was now later in the night, the neighbors probably aware of what had happened next door. A moment passes.

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to suck you off?” you asked innocently, gazing up at Javier as your head rested on his chest.

He grins, softly whispering a later as he played with your hair, cock soft against his thigh as your leg nudges it playfully.

He growls, nipping your ear. “Behave” he says firmly, cheeks rosy. This time you listen.

“Who picked you up today then if I didn’t come?” Javi asks, reaching over to wrap a blanket around you two near the fireplace.

You smile, knowing that you can’t always listen to Javier’s warnings. “Just some cute young taxi driver. Asked me for my number y’know” you grinned.

Javier looks down, eyes darkening as he mutters softly. “Unless you’re gonna be a brat again, you better watch yourself” he reaches for your mound, cupping you softly so you moan in pleasure, still sensitive from the previous activities. He hoists you above his stomach, feeling your nails scratch his pudge and bend down as you give him a kiss. “I’m just messing with you” you giggle, a familiar feeling coming back when his bare cock is nestled by your thighs. “He was old. A grandpapi” you said, feeling his hands roam the flesh of your ass.

You press a hand against Javier’s chest, giggling as you peck his jawline. He rolls his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist instinctively.

“I missed you.” he mutters, feeling you up.

You smile, remembering how warm it is on top of your husband before you shut your eyes softly.“Me too.”

You look up, apologizing to him. “Sorry for almost stabbing you with that knife”

You feel the vibrations and sounds of a loud chuckle, Javier holding on to you. “It was an accident” you mumble, circling shapes on his skin. He knows.

You make up for it by leaning in, pressing kisses under the shell of his ear. Whispering how you’ll let him stuff his cock in your mouth again to get even.

Fuck it, he thinks. He’d let you kill him anyday.

[reasonsforhope]

"Doctors have begun trialling the world’s first mRNA lung cancer vaccine in patients, as experts hailed its “groundbreaking” potential to save thousands of lives.

Lung cancer is the world’s leading cause of cancer death, accounting for about 1.8m deaths every year. Survival rates in those with advanced forms of the disease, where tumours have spread, are particularly poor.

Now experts are testing a new jab that instructs the body to hunt down and kill cancer cells – then prevents them ever coming back. Known as BNT116 and made by BioNTech, the vaccine is designed to treat non-small cell lung cancer (NSCLC), the most common form of the disease.

The phase 1 clinical trial, the first human study of BNT116, has launched across 34 research sites in seven countries: the UK, US, Germany, Hungary, Poland, Spain and Turkey.

The UK has six sites, located in England and Wales, with the first UK patient to receive the vaccine having their initial dose on Tuesday [August 20, 2024].

Overall, about 130 patients – from early-stage before surgery or radiotherapy, to late-stage disease or recurrent cancer – will be enrolled to have the jab alongside immunotherapy. About 20 will be from the UK.

The jab uses messenger RNA (mRNA), similar to Covid-19 vaccines, and works by presenting the immune system with tumour markers from NSCLC to prime the body to fight cancer cells expressing these markers.

The aim is to strengthen a person’s immune response to cancer while leaving healthy cells untouched, unlike chemotherapy.

“We are now entering this very exciting new era of mRNA-based immunotherapy clinical trials to investigate the treatment of lung cancer,” said Prof Siow Ming Lee, a consultant medical oncologist at University College London hospitals NHS foundation trust (UCLH), which is leading the trial in the UK.

“It’s simple to deliver, and you can select specific antigens in the cancer cell, and then you target them. This technology is the next big phase of cancer treatment.”

Janusz Racz, 67, from London, was the first person to have the vaccine in the UK. He was diagnosed in May and soon after started chemotherapy and radiotherapy.

The scientist, who specialises in AI, said his profession inspired him to take part in the trial. “I am a scientist too, and I understand that the progress of science – especially in medicine – lies in people agreeing to be involved in such investigations,” he said...

“And also, I can be a part of the team that can provide proof of concept for this new methodology, and the faster it would be implemented across the world, more people will be saved.”

Racz received six consecutive injections five minutes apart over 30 minutes at the National Institute for Health Research UCLH Clinical Research Facility on Tuesday.

Each jab contained different RNA strands. He will get the vaccine every week for six consecutive weeks, and then every three weeks for 54 weeks.

Lee said: “We hope adding this additional treatment will stop the cancer coming back because a lot of time for lung cancer patients, even after surgery and radiation, it does come back.” ...

“We hope to go on to phase 2, phase 3, and then hope it becomes standard of care worldwide and saves lots of lung cancer patients.”

The Guardian revealed in May that thousands of patients in England were to be fast-tracked into groundbreaking trials of cancer vaccines in a revolutionary world-first NHS “matchmaking” scheme to save lives.

Under the scheme, patients who meet the eligibility criteria will gain access to clinical trials for the vaccines that experts say represent a new dawn in cancer treatment."

-via The Guardian, May 30, 2024

[therealflickerman]

Split Lips (tasm!peter parker x reader)

Part four

series summary: Its simple hating peter parker, the cocky asshole who has made it his mission to one up you every chance he gets. In the same vein, its simple loving spiderman, the sweet masked vigilante who has made it his mission to ensure your safety. How simple will it be when the two worlds meet.

______________________________________________________________

chapter summary: You try your hardest to hide what you can from Peter though you can't help when secrets slip through your fingers.

word count: 6.5k (i cooked a little)

chapter contents: angst?, mention of death, mention of parental death, mention of cancer, reader is described to b shorter than Flash (6’1),  reader is intended to be fem! , language, reader is anxious and a mess, bullying kinda?

note: hi guys!!! This chapter is like INSANELY late but it's also the longest chapter by far so I hope I’ve made it up to you guys… This chapter gets only a little deep but I hope you enjoy how I've written the reader and her mum and I hope I've done the themes justice!!! 

masterlist

series masterlist

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four (ongoing!)

“Maths, History, Bio” the words quietly slip past your lips as you count your textbooks carefully, ensuring each and everyone of them are there. Pressing your forehead against the cool of your locker, your eyes flutter shut and you draw a sharp breath, holding it in for a split second before finally releasing it alongside your jaw, clenched shut almost painfully. You pull away from the safety of the metal, words role over in your mind as you prepare for the day,

BAM

Your locker slams inches from your face. 

The loud bang of metal against metal rings through the busy hallway drawing the attention of a couple stray students, including yourself as you jump back softly, your hands clenching around your textbooks extra tightly as they threaten to slip through your fingers.

Your eyes flick to the perpetrator and you feel your jaw clench as nerves buzz in your fingertips. 

“What Flash,” 

It slips softly past your lips before you can stop yourself and anxiety turns in your gut as you wish you’d simply ignored him.

“I was wondering what you were doing tonight,”

His eyes watch you eagerly, like he’s hungry for the reaction you’ll inevitably give him. 

You swallow the anxiety that grows a lump in your throat and turn to head for the serenity of your History class. You have to remind yourself that he wants the reaction, he’s starving for it. 

He’s quick to follow you, sending a look to his friends that gather in a circle a little way across the hall. You hear the familiar sound of soft snickers and you feel your cheeks heat up. 

Trying your hardest to keep a poker face you press your lips into a tight line, you’d rather set yourself on fire than give Flash a reaction to laugh about with his stupid friends. 

“I know you’re probably super busy with all those friends you have, so I just wanted to check,”

His lips curl into a shit-eating grin, you fight an expression that threatens to grow on your face. You won’t give him the satisfaction, you entirely refuse. 

Keeping focused on the goal of your History classroom, you swerve through the other students that crowd the halls.

“C’mon,”

He just about corners you against the lockers as you walk shoulder to shoulder with them, dribbling his basketball he follows closely, the sound rings out obnoxiously much as his voice does. 

You can’t seem to find your voice, you keep your eyes ahead and continue on track, praying silently for him to leave you alone, the interaction turns our gut and you slip your lip between your teeth where it belongs. 

“C’mon, stop walking away from me,” 

His voice raises slightly, his hand coming out in front of you and you’re quick to stop in your tracks. His palm leans against the locker as he looks down at you through his eyelashes. He waits eagerly for a reaction, practically starved for it. 

You kiss your teeth with a clench of your jaw, as you try to slip from the barrier he’s created and a laugh bubbles from his chest as you hand feed him what he’s been waiting for. 

“Flash,”

A shot of relief floods your veins, it’s sweet, almost addictive, and your eyes seek the face to match that voice you know all too well. 

“Can’t you see we’re talking Parker,”

Flash shoots Peter a grin, not particularly concerned with convincing him of anything.

“Does she know that?”

Peter asks, his tone sardonic. 

Flash rolls his eyes, kissing his teeth as he turns to look at his surroundings. A frustrated sigh bubbles in his chest as he opens his mouth to say something before shutting it with a clench of his jaw, not bothered to start anything especially as so many teachers roam the halls, rushing students to their classes. 

He turns back to you, sending a wink as he slips away, quick to walk back to his friends that await him. It’s as if they crave the humiliation they give other people, it’s their life source and you feel gross just thinking about it. 

A soft groan slips past your lips, “thank you.”

He offers a shrug, a smile sat upon his lips as he watches you. His gaze is sweet, it's night and day compared to Flash’s hungry eyes. Your feet scuff against the vinyl as you slip next to him, far less eager to get to class this time around. 

“He will just not leave me alone you know? It’s kind of getting embarrassing on his part, like he does the same bit everyday. I don’t think he has a whole lot going on up there, not super creative.” 

You mumble softly, a grin slipping onto your face, Peter shakes his head with a laugh. 

“I’m pretty sure he’s got a little brain damage from all that sport so don’t take it to heart,”

He draws a giggle from your lips, “I don’t think I’ve ever taken anything he’s said to heart.”

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you make it to class. Words roll around on your tongue, you fight to push them out. 

“I was thinking maybe you’d wanna…  would you wanna study again tonight?” The words slip out. 

The two of you had spent many afternoons of the past week at the library, your noses between books, studying your hearts out before grabbing coffee, if you're honest it’s the most productive you’ve been in a long while. You hate to give him his praise but having someone as genius as Peter to bounce ideas off of has opened a whole new playing field and you’re not sure you can go back to ten minute mind blanks and groans of frustration. 

On the other hand you’ve never been more busy in your typically lacklustre life, you feel a bit like Spiderman yourself with all the running around you’ve found yourself managing. It was school, then work, or study, or both. Then home, just in the nick of time, all for Spiderman to swing you through the city before returning you to your bed at some ungodly hour. It was… nice, at least it was exciting, something vastly different compared to the eat, sleep, school repeat you’ve known for the past few years of your life. 

“Yeah of course, I was gonna ask anyway, so-”

“Maybe you could… um come to my place instead of the library?”

You spit out, cutting Peter off.

“My mums gonna be home, like, kinda early tonight so she’s um… making, like, a nice dinner and I thought you could join us?”

The words flow quickly and you’re unable to stop them as they spew from your lips, 

“I’d love to,”

He hums, a soft smile curling onto his lips

“I’m sure you would, ‘can put my address in your stalker journal,”

A scoffed laugh spits from his lips as his grin grows.

“How do you know I don’t already know where you live,”

“I’d be a little worried if you already knew where I lived,”

______________________________________________________________

Your foot taps rapidly against the concrete floor, a spit of anxiety turning in your stomach as your eyes dart around the city. ‘Please god do not show up,’ you watch with furrowed eyes for a flash of red and blue. 

“You waiting on someone?”

The voice rips you from your contraction and you jump slightly as you turn to find Peter and his stupid grin

“Only you,”

You swallow the lump in your throat and a smile plays across your face. 

“How was photography?”

Your eyes flick to his face, watching him as the two of you make the slow walk to the subway. 

“Good,” he hums with a smile, “I got an A+ on that assignment,” he shrugs his shoulders as if it were nothing, though you personally know he’d practically pulled his hair out with stress over it. 

“Look at you go, Mr Humble,” you nudge him softly, “bet you picked the photo I told you to go with,” 

You lend him a grin and he can’t help but roll his eyes.

“That is a possibility.”

“Hey, you’ll… you’ll tell me if Flash bothers you more?”

Peter mumbles softly, he swallows, feeling stupid as the question slips from his lips, though it spills anyway.

You watch his face, giving him a suspicious eye as a grin tugs at your lips. 

“You gonna do something about it?”

He rolls his eyes, his head shaking,“I might.” 

You hum suspiciously with a nod and it's followed by a giggle. 

“Hey you don’t know what I’m capable of,”.

“I know Flash is, like, a six foot one athletic scholar,” 

He leans his softly, “yeah but I have something he doesn’t,”

“What would that be Peter?”

“A brain.” 

You roll your eyes and push his face away with the palm of your hand. 

The sound of the city seeps into the subway carriage, it’s fairly empty and just about silent besides the racket of Peter’s voice as he talks of his next photography assignment, very passionately if you may add. He thinks it's stupid that they grade photography, he believes art is immeasurable, whether he’d simply rather an easier class or is genuinely passionate about the topic you can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips as he rambles. Either way it ‘isn’t like he has room to complain, the fact that it is in fact graded means he gets to be top of his class’, you roll your eyes as he tells you he’s only joking. 

You find yourself slowly drifting, your eyes keep on him as you mind wonders and a small smile finds itself on your lips.  

If it weren't for Peter you’d be sitting alone right now, packed into whatever carriage you had found. You’d listen to music loud enough to hurt your ears and you’d pick at your nails, or maybe you’d let your teeth at your lower lip. Your brain would mull over the day and you’d swallow the anxieties that pile themselves in your throat. 

“Am I boring you?”

Peter's face comes into focus, his smile is sweet as he watches you drift off.

“No! no no no… sorry,” you swallow with a blink, “sorry I got lost in thought,” you shake your head with an apology, “continue.”

A laugh bubbles in his chest and he shakes his head softly, “you’re good, I get um… I think I get a little too excited about photography sometimes.”

“Oh god no, I like hearing about your photography, trust me. It's refreshing to hear someone my age be so passionate about something,” Your tone couldn’t be more genuine.

“Really?” He smiles and you return it with a nod. 

He opens his mouth to speak and the subway's intercom system announces your stop, “I’m sorry I am. I promise I’m interested but this is our stop,”

You mumble with an apologetic expression as you stop him before he can speak. He giggles with a soft, “okay.” 

______________________________________________________________

Peter's voice reverberates through the quiet backstreets as you both walk side by side, heading back to your apartment. He talks of how he got into photography, how he enjoys being able to capture a moment in time, he views it as a sacred process. You watch his face light up as he speaks and you can’t help the bright grin curled onto your lips, unconsciously matching the smile on his face. You listen intensely as he speaks so passionately.

You’re grateful for the moment, there's no weird tension between the two of you, no bickering or teasing, you’re not on your toes trying to keep up with his stupid remarks. You’re simply indulged in his words, in a part of his mind that he’s sharing with you. 

Your grin grows. 

“What about you, what are you like… into?” he asks, his tone almost catches you off guard, it’s sickeningly sweet. 

You have to think for a moment, “um I don’t know… nothing I guess,” a shrug pulls at your shoulders.

“C’mon there's gotta be something.”

You think of the eat, sleep, school repeat cycle you’ve been living for the past however many years, each day full of so much nothing. Looking back you genuinely do wonder what you did to pass the time and nothing comes to mind.

The only things that happen in your life are Peter and Spiderman, and you can’t say, ‘actually you’re my hobby. And also Spiderman, don’t know if you’ve heard of him.’ 

“Hmm, nope, nothing, I study… I… I don't know, I work.” You shrug.

‘What about the posters on the wall, the music you’re always listening to, the movies you’re always watching at night,’ the words dangle on his tongue and he bites down, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“I don’t believe that,” he opts for this. 

“Believe it, you’ve befriended a bore,” 

He rolls his eyes, a chuckle slipping past his lips as he denies this. You’re being stubborn.

“Believe what you want, it's the truth.”  You shrug. 

He hums softly, his eyes keep on you and the remains of a smile stay evident on his lips.

______________________________________________________________

The familiar apartment building comes into view, he swallows softly, and can’t seem to pull his eyes from your face. He rolls over words in his mind, ‘you’ve never been in her room, you don’t know which apartment is hers, etc.’ He almost feels sick at the thought of slipping up.

“You’d think big hot shot Oscorp would pay well enough for an apartment complex but I guess one income slows us down.” 

You send your shoulder into the weighted door and lend an awkward smile as you hold the door for him, mumbling an apology about the climb to the fifth story.

“Your mum works at Oscorp?” he asks softly, there's something else to his tone and you can’t quite place it. You ultimately decide to blame it on the stairs, despite not being a quarter way to the top. 

“You got a problem with Oscorp?” you tease, looking to the step behind you as you watch Peter make the climb with ease.

“No, no, it’s just… I don’t know,” He curses himself as no answer comes to mind, god he’s already slipped up. His heart beats softly against his chest and he releases a breath as you hum, dropping it.

“Well she loves it, that's why she’s out so late almost every night, they’re working on this um, DNA thing… I don’t know, her boss is missing an arm, it's, like, something to do with that. You ask her about it at dinner, she’ll love you forever.”

His breath catches in his throat and it’s followed by a gross feeling that spins his gut, his teeth sinking into the flesh of his cheek as you mention doctor Curtis Connors.

He tries to not let it bother him, in fact he feels guilty that it does, it’s not as though you’re his problem. 

His mind flicks to the suit in his backpack, maybe he doesn’t have a choice in whether you’re his ‘problem’ or not anymore. 

“Geez Peter I didn’t know you worked out, you haven’t even broken a sweat.” You huff, conquering the last step. 

Yes, you may over exaggerate but five stories of stairs is enough to make anyone a little breathless. “I work out,” he scoffs with a small smile. You take one look up and down, eyes trailing across his tall lanky build. With a raise of an eyebrow,  you hum a soft “Mhm”. He rolls his eyes and it pulls a giggle from your lips. 

Your hands fumble around in your pocket and you pull out your house key, wiggling it around in the old lock before it finally opens with a heavy shove of the door. 

“Hey mum!” You call out softly, holding the door open for Peter. Your mother stands in the kitchen, she’s chopping vegetables and humming along to soft music as it plays from her own old record player, she’s got it on her fifteenth birthday and she adores the thing. 

“Hey love,” She hums, her eyes flicking up from the task at hand. 

“Oh and this must be Peter.” 

You send her a pressed smile, widening your eyes as if to say, ‘embarrass me and I will kill you,’ though she retaliates with a little wink and you groan. 

“I’ve heard so much about you Peter,” she continues to cut carrots. 

Peter sends you a smug grin. 

“You have?”

“Oh for sure, all good things… most good things,” she hums with a shrug and a smile. 

“I’m just glad she’s making friends-”

“Okay mum, we’re gonna go study,” You cut her off with a tight smile, she laughs with a shake of her head and a wave of her hand, “have fun!” 

“I’m sorry about her,” You huff with a smile, the tips of your ears burn and you feel yourself blushing. 

You lean your school bag against your bed and let him know he can put his stuff anywhere. 

Walking over to your desk, he leans his bag against the leg before settling comfortably into the seat.

Your brows furrow with a small smile, watching him as you take a seat against your bed. “You have a habit of making yourself comfortable,” you giggle with a shake of your head. 

“Oh I… sorry I, remember you saying you always study on your bed.” Nerve drips from his words as he sits up right. 

“No no, you’re good,” you smile with a shake of your head, “and you’re right,” you pull your things from your bag, setting stuff out the way you like it. 

He curses himself silently, ‘you’ve never been here before Peter,’ he reminds himself and his eyes scan your room, his sight falls on your posters,  the one he’d seen almost twice a night for the past week or so.

“Nice posters,” he hums.

Your eyes flick up as he speaks, the way he says it scratches a nerve in your brain, like it was familiar. 

You hum softly flipping open your Bio textbook, “thank you, it’s taken me ages to collect them all.”

Peter swallows dryly. 

“You said you didn’t have any hobbies,” his eyes keep on you. 

“Collecting posters isn’t… doing something though, like… writing or… taking photos,” you point to him with your pencil. 

“I guess…” He sits for a moment. “What about watching movies, I mean you’ve gotta love ‘em to have this many posters,” 

“Eh, I don’t think that counts”

“Oh c’mon that totally counts”

“Does it?” you shrug. 

“Whatever, we'll find you something.”

You look up to him with a smile, he gets his stuff out, placing it on your desk. 

“You know I am good at one thing…” You mumble, his head shoots up, “it’s called studying, and it’s going to help me get into a very nice university so that I can be good at things for money” 

You tease, drawing a humoured scoff from Peter. 

The two of you sit for a good while, faces buried in books, bouncing ideas and questions off of one another as you scribble messy notes. Stupid jokes and shared giggles pull the both of you from study, for minutes at a time you clutch your stomachs in laughter, textbooks forgotten until you find your way back on track. It leaves your stomach muscles beat, exhausted from curling in on itself as huffs of giggles slip from your lips. 

You now watch as he reads a particular section of his textbook, faced away from you with his eyes focused so desperately on the page, your teeth seek your lip, sinking into its flesh without mercy. A feeling settles deep in your gut, turning your stomach and all of sudden you feel ill, despite it you can’t seem to pull your eyes from the brown haired boy. It’s all too familiar but you refuse it, swallowing dryly before you can bring yourself to put a name to the feeling. 

Peter can feel you staring, he can feel the intensity of your gaze burning into his temple, a feeling he’s grown accustomed to. He’s not sure if it’s his ‘Spidey-Senses’ or because he just knows you but he can feel it. Maybe it's a mix of both with all the time he’s spent with you, with all the time you’ve spent on his mind. 

A smile tugs on his lips and he can’t seem to stifle it as it grows into a grin. 

Your eyes flick back down to your page, you practically wrangle them there. The lump in your throat is stubborn, no matter how much you swallow it sits there stubbornly and you try your best to ignore it. Now is not the time, your eyes flick up once again, especially as he sits in your desk chair, slumped over with his nose in his textbook, innocently in his own world and doing his school work just as you should be. 

The rapid knock of your door pulls you from thought, “dinners ready love,” your mum's voice calls out muffled through the wood. “M’kay,” you hum, loud enough for her to hear it, letting out a silent huff, a poor attempt at settling the unplaceable feeling in your stomach. 

A stiff silence settles over the three of you, broken by the sound of quiet chewing and cutlery scraping against your mothers ‘nice’ dinner plates. You’re all packed onto a small dining table, designed for just two people, your knee brushes against Peters and you meet his eyes with a silent apology. 

“So I um, heard you work at Oscorp,” He swallows, keeping his eyes on you before flicking them to your mother with a smile.

“Oh yeah? She told you about that huh,” your mother sends you a grin.

“I mean they’re doing insane work, really I shouldn’t even be talking about it, but it’s just so fascinating.” 

Peter nods along, you can’t help the smile that clings to your lips, unable to draw your eyes from him as he entertains your mother’s chattering.

“Its um… well lizards, right, they can regrow limbs, it's really quite fascinating, comes from years of evolution and adapting, I’ll spare the boring details,” she waves a dismissive hand, “we’re taking this aspect of their DNA and attempting to create a serum that can prompt human cells into preforming blastema-based regeneration. What that means is-”

“Mum Peter is like a grade A genius, don't worry,” you mumble, cutting her off. 

His lips curl into a smile, and he meets your eyes as you return the grin. 

“So you like science Peter?” Your mum asks. 

“Oh yeah, I um.. I love it,” He wears a lopsided smile, as he fumbles to answer the question. He watches you in the corner of his vision, checking to see if he’s said the right thing, and another grin slips onto your lips. You eye him as he stumbles over his words, looking for your approval and you lend a soft nod as your smile grows. 

“So that’s what you wanna do? Go into science I mean,” She asks, taking a fork full of food in her mouth. 

“Well I, um…”

“Peter’s actually a really talented photographer, so he’s still working things out.” You hum with a nod, sensing the nerves radiating off of him, he sends a grateful smile. 

“Oh yeah? My husband loved photography.”

You flinch a little at her words as she mentions your dad. It was true, he had spent a lot of his life taking photos, they were amazing too. He had never turned it into a career though, you had assumed it was because of some moral obligation he had to take care of you and your mum, he refused to even entertain the idea in fear of halving the household funds and leaving the both of you struggling, well look where you are now. 

Peter sends you a look, a quick flick of his eyes and you know what it represents. You opt to lend a small smile with nothing behind it, it’s a poor attempt at returning to any form of normalcy you could get your hands on and he returns it, submitting to this attempt. 

You make a note to talk to Peter about your dad later, it wasn't as though you had tried to hide any of… what had happened, it just never came up. Maybe deep down you liked it that way and maybe in a way you had tried to hide it, though you’re quick to swallow any guilt that threatens to build as you return to the normalcy that you and Peter had silently decided upon. 

Peter clears his throat with a hum. “Yeah, I just… love having the ability to capture a moment in time, I think it helps me get a grasp on reality. I would spend all my time taking photos if I could.”

Your mum hums with a smile and a soft nod, of course she liked that answer. She’s so insanely passionate sometimes that it scares you, up until two am most nights working on her research, not eating all day just to purely save time, you’re not sure how she’s still running. Seeing her daughter hanging out with someone at all, let alone someone so driven, is probably sending her insane with pure relief. 

“As long as you’re passionate about whatever you do,” Your mum nods, taking a sip of her wine glass. 

You smile with a shake of her head, she’s so predictable, it's sweet. You’re grateful for her, god, more than grateful for her, you’re not sure where on earth you’d be without her. 

“Oscorp isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, the field of science is very dangerous if you ever do go into it. The other day Peter-” she leans in with another sip of her wine, “there was this giant lizard monster god, I don’t know what he was but he injured about ten people, I’m sure you heard it on the news, that Spiderboy was there.”

“It’s Spiderman mum, and that isn’t because you work in science it's because you live in New York.” You correct her with a roll of your eyes, it was a conversation the two of you had had about five times since that night and if you heard about how ‘Spiderboy’ had made the whole situation worse one more time you’re sure you’d rip your hair out. 

“I don’t care what his name is, he totaled my car,” “The lizard did mum, not Spiderman, he’s just trying to help-”

Peter can’t stop the grin that curls at his lips as you unknowingly defend him. He watches as you toy with your food, giving up as your mother insists that Spiderman is doing more harm than good. 

“What do you think Peter, about this ‘Spiderman’ I mean,” Your mum hums, taking another bite of her food. His eyes flicker to you, and he hesitantly gives his opinion, “I think that he does good where he can…at least I think he intends to. I mean think about what could have happened if he wasn't there.”

You nod stubbornly with a fold of your arms, “Exactly.”

Your mum rolls her eyes with a small smile and a shrug as she washes down the food in her mouth with a sip from her glass, “I guess,” she mumbles hesitantly and you too roll your eyes with a giggle. 

Peter smiles, his eyes keeping on you. “What got you working at Oscorp,” He takes a sip of his water. 

“Well I always adored science, all through school. I graduated, y’know researched with a couple of small corporations near home. Then, after her dad died, I just decided lifes too short, I quickly applied to Oscorp, we moved here, and the rest is history.” 

There it is. 

An unease settles in your stomach and your focus turns to the food chewing in your mouth, it doesn’t really bother you, at least that's what you tell yourself. It was obvious your dad wasn’t around anymore, for one reason or another, but it felt too vulnerable for him to know that he was actually dead. The thought rolls around in your head and you swallow it with your dinner. You had planned to tell Peter, though it isn’t like you need to, you don't owe it to him. Still, you feel something build in your stomach as you realise that maybe you had actively avoided it in conversation, maybe even lied during the process and you quickly realise you’re filled with some sick mix of embarrassment and guilt.

You feel Peter glancing at you, his gaze is soft and his eyes flick between you and your mother as she continues to talk and he continues to nod along. You meet his eyes, deciding that facing whatever you’re feeling is far less embarrassing than closing up like you’re used to. You can’t place the emotions behind his eyes but nevertheless he offers a smile, it’s void of pity and you realise that deep down that was what you feared most from his reaction. You return the smile, it’s grateful though you don’t particularly mean for it to be, and the two of you once again silently agree to bask in normality until dinner is over. 

______________________________________________________________

The both of you sit on your bed in silence, it's comfortable but there’s an all too familiar feeling of anxiety settled in your stomach. Your mind rolls over words, they hang on the tip of your tongue as you wrack your brain on how to start the conversation. 

“When I was six my parents went on a work trip and never came back,” Peter lets out, taking the blow for you. His eyes find you, you’re focused on the tips of your fingers as they fiddle with one another. He hears your breathing hitch, your heartbeat speed up, he watches as you try to find the words. 

“Pet-”

“My Aunt May and Uncle Ben took me in, and then…. a couple of months ago Ben was killed in a robbery,” 

You shut your mouth tightly, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your cheeks as you fight to find the words and suddenly you don’t feel so angry at each relative that told you ‘they were sorry’ and ‘they were here for you,’ because… what do you say?

You swallow, your teeth unlatching around your cheek, and open your mouth to speak once again, 

“I just mean… you don’t have to feel weird or… I don’t know, ashamed about it… okay? Not with me.” 

His voice is soft, his eyes watch you so intensely, it’s like he’s looking at you for the first time, like really looking at you. Noticing each wrinkle in your expression, each imperfection that litters your skin, although this time it’s with his own two eyes, not shrouded by the mask he was once so grateful for.

“He died when I was fifteen…it was um, cancer,” you nod softly, keeping your eyes down, you’re not too sure why but it feels better, easier to talk, like you can breathe. 

“We packed up, like, straight away and mum immediately started working for Dr Connors. She thinks that she can like, find a cure or… I don’t know…” You curse yourself for rambling about it as you realise this wasn’t one of the venting circles in one of the libraries your mum had signed you up to. 

You swallow, biting the bullet and looking up to meet Peter's eyes. You’re not entirely sure what you had expected but when you finally meet them you don’t find the look of condolence that you’ve grown so accustomed to. You find a pure mix of kindness and worry and it spins your gut, this time with gratitude. 

You lend him a smile, it’s grateful, and understanding, it tells him what you don’t trust your words to and he returns it sweetly. 

“Even in dead relatives I’m ahead of you,” he elbows your arm and it's noticeably more gentle than usual.

A laugh bubbles in your chest and you shake your head with an eye roll. 

“Oh my god,” you hum and it draws a giggle from his lips. 

“You’re close with your aunt?” You ask gently as the laughter dies down between the two of you, you’ve found peace within his eye sight as you keep steady eye contact with him for maybe the first time since you've known him. 

He hums with a nod of his head and a smile curls onto his lips. It’s sweet. 

“You’re close with your mum?” He asks, his tone is almost cautious, though he doesn’t mean it to be. He had spent a whole hour at your dinner table and still couldn’t grasp the dynamic between the two of you. 

You hum a soft laugh with a nod of your head, “yeah, we are. It’s… complicated, my dad’s death fucked with her super bad but she’s still my best friend, kind of my only friend.”

He smiles, a sound of understanding slips from his lips. 

“Were you um… close with your dad?” He prays he hasn’t overstepped a line, his teeth catch on his lips as the words slip from them and he feels oddly close to you as he sinks teeth into flesh. 

You smile, looking down at your hands, “yeah… super close,” it’s all you say though he takes it with gratitude. 

“What about you, were you close with your parents, with your Uncle?” You look back up at him and meet his eyes, they never seem to leave you, it’s something you’d noticed. 

He nods, a smile slipping onto lips much like you had done. “My parents died when I was pretty young so, yes… but also no.” You nod along, watching him closely. “But I was super close with Ben.” You feel like maybe you opened something you shouldn't have as you remember that it hasn’t been long since his passing. You watch the creasing in Peter's expression and you quickly feel guilt fill your stomach as your own brows furrow. 

“I’m sorry Peter I shouldn’t-”

“No, god no I asked first- no, don’t do that,” His soothes quietly, shutting down your guilt. 

You nod softly as he continues.

“He was like a dad to me so… yeah.”

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, the air filled with a feeling of understanding and the both of you settle into it. 

“I should um, maybe get going,” He mumbles, it’s a cop out, the both of you know it, the both of you have become accustomed to it. 

“You can stay Peter,” 

His almost frantic movements stop, his eyes find yours, he wouldn't go as far as to say they’re begging but they’re big and asking him to stay in the warmth of your room and who is he to say no to you. 

“We can watch a movie… or-”

“I would really like that.”

______________________________________________________________

Your eyes glance over to him, his face lit up by the screen of your laptop. The two of you sit comfortably in your bed, backs propped up against the wall, an awkwardly large space between the two of you, you’re overly conscious of it as you try your hardest to keep your eyes on the screen and your limbs to yourself. In your uncomfort your eyes flick to your watch, checking the time and your stomach turns with anxiety as a thought pops into your head. You frantically flick your eyes to the window, trying your hardest to keep your ‘cool’ exterior in front of Peter though you’re now busy attempting to prepare for the inevitable. There hasn’t been a night in the past week where Spiderman hasn’t shown up at your window cill, absolutely bursting to tell you about his night. Many nights he’d sit in the very chair Peter had, chatting your ear off for hours until you had to shoo him from your room to save at least four hours of sleep before you had to get up for school. You swallow your nerves, taking a deep breath, soft enough for Peter to miss it, at least you hope he misses it, and you try to make up some sort of plan.

Peter was… cool about it, he appreciated what Spiderman did. He actually never really spoke about him, in fact he was a little weird about him, though you’re not complaining, if Peter tried to subtly shut down most conversations about him, it meant you didn’t need to subtly avoid most conversations about him. 

You’re only now realising it seemed like a sensitive topic and you pray to god Spidey didn’t have some unfortunate involvement with his uncle's death, that would make it a little awkward if, or when, he shows up at your window. 

You swallow, bringing your eyes back to the movie, you’re choosing to push all rational thoughts out of your mind as you do so, you’re going to sit here and focus on the film and not focus on how you wouldn’t be able to hand another of your secrets getting spilt, not that you had any others to spill after Spidey. 

Peter's eyes watch you in his peripheral vision, watching as your vision linger on the window cill. 

“Shit,” the word slips from his lips before he can stop it and it instantly catches your attention.

“What's up?” You ask, sitting up gently. 

Fuck, he curses himself silently though he quickly realises he’s given himself the perfect out. “I just realised that May said she wanted me home half an hour ago, I’m so sorry, I-” he jumps from your bed. 

“You’re fine, really. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Your voice comes out far more enthusiastic than you had hoped for and you cringe as the words leave your lips. 

Peter nods with a sheepish smile, backpack in hand as he stands at your bedroom door, “thank you for having me,” he mumbles. His words are genuine and the feeling in your gut that you entirely refuse to recognise is back, nagging at your heart. 

“No problem,” you hum softly, returning the sheepish smile. 

He’s gone in a flash, with a slam of your door, a little harder than he had anticipated, and a soft ‘sorry!’ from the other side of the wood. You let out a breath of relief, your teeth sinking into your lip as you do so. Your mind plays over the day as you slip your laptop into your school bag and lay on your bed. You’re grateful Peter knows about your dad, at least you think you are. It makes you feel vulnerable, he can take one look at the life you lead and understand why you are, where you are, now that he has the missing piece of the puzzle. You guess it goes both ways, though he seems so put together and you quickly become jealous over how well he’s able to hide his grief, then again you know it isn’t something to wish for and you swallow as you remind yourself that there are so many parts of him that you don't see.

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[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Eight: [Oh, Honeybee]

Summary: Jake can’t accept why you’d keep such a life-threatening situation a secret and you can’t accept why he suddenly seems to care.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil.

Word Count: 4K

Author Note: Smaller chapter, but still the same level of pain. Let me know what y’all think about the confrontation of it all.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“The fuck?” Bradley Bradshaw hated the festive season. He wasn't a Christmas guy. He didn't have an awful lot of family to celebrate with over the consumerist holiday that was shoved down your throat before mid November. He just wasn't the kinda guy who wanted to get involved in the festivities. 

“Who's calling you at ten at night?” Natasha Trace would probably end up regretting her decision to sleep with her co-worker and friend, but the drunken antics she and Rooster had gotten up to earlier in the afternoon ended up with a trip back to his house. 

“Its Hangman–” Bradley answered the naked woman beside him as he sat up in the bed he truly never should have brought her back to. He knew Phoenix would end up regretting her decision to sleep with him. A pity fuck they’d both end up calling it. “Hello?” 

“Are you busy?” Jake asked as he continued to watch you sleep. It had been a few hours since he got to the hospital and about two since he told your mother to go home for some much deserved rest. 

Bradley looked over his shoulder to see Phoenix rolling over, her chest laid flat against the mattress that smelled so much of Bradley. He sighed, peeled the covers up from over his legs and swung them over the side. 

“Nah, what’s up? Everything good?” The pair hadn’t always been on good terms, but ever since Jake had ultimately risked his own life to save Roosters, the two had been able to put their differences aside and let bygones be bygones. 

“I don’t think I’m coming back after Christmas.” Jake started as he let his head lean against the far too uncomfortable hospital chair he’d been sitting in for the better half of four hours. “Somethings’ happened and I dunno what I’m gonna do man.” It was the tone Jake was using that made Bradley frown as he slipped into his sweats. 

“Something happen to one of the kids, man?” Rooster has never heard Jake sound so defeated before. But as he padded down the hall Rooster had to stop in his tracks as Jake explained your current situation. He read the notes right from your chart, from the type of cancer to the stroke you had, how he tried to tuck your hair behind your ear and it fell from your scalp. How he’d tried to win you back, how you’d slept together, how you told him you still loved him yet thought divorce was the best way to go about things. Jake emptied his heart on Bradley sleeve and Bradley didn’t know how to process the pain and anguish Jake was obviously feeling. 

“Are you at the hospital right now? With Y/n?” 

“Yeah—yeah I just sent Maz, Y/n’s mum home to rest and shit.” Jake ran his hand across his face as he watched the IV bag containing your sedative get smaller and smaller. He wasn’t sure how you were going to react when you woke up and saw he was here. “I’ll probably go between here and her house, the kids are at mum's place and I can’t imagine what they’re thinking knowing that we’re both not there.” 

“I could uh—“ Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t a Christmas guy, but he was a family first person. “I could fly out? Maybe get the kids from your mum's house and get them back to Rhode Island? I’m not doing anything this Christmas so I’ve got time.” 

“Bradshaw,” Jake nearly sobbed. “I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.”

“It’s nothing, really, you’re one guy man, stay with your wife, or ex wife? I don’t really wanna get into your business but just text me the details when you can and I’ll organise your kids.” 

“I’ll text you my sister's number.” Jake replied. “She’ll help you out.” There was no real reason to argue, Jake knew that once Rooster had his mind set on something he was gonna do it. 

“No worries, I’m uh—I don’t even know what to say man, I’m so sorry, no one deserves to go through this.” It hit Rooster too close to home, his mother died when he was seventeen from Breast Cancer very similar to yours. It took her quicker than doctors had ever anticipated. 

He just hopes you wouldn’t meet the same untimely fate. 

“Anything man, anything you need, I'm there.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Time seemed more like an artificial construct as Jake watched Lydia disconnect the line that had been slowly feeding your body with a moderate range sedative. The young nurse looked guilty as she tried to avoid eye contact with the man she had accidentally told private patient information to. 

“She’ll slowly start to wake up over the next hour now that she isn’t slowly taking on the sedative.” Lydia explained. “She might be quite irritable and loopy but I’ll have her surgeon come by for assessment once she’s up.”

“When I was about your age I accidentally hit one of my commanding officers' car while pulling out of the car park at the Naval Base I was stationed at.” Jake mentioned as he let himself curl up in the world's most uncomfortable chair. “Point is we all

make mistakes, don’t beat yourself up about it, but I’d definitely be a little more cautious when reading patients emergency contacts.” 

“You’re wife’s a pretty strong woman Mr. Seresin.” Lydia smiled. “I hope that despite whatever reason she was keeping all this from you, that she’s happy you’re by her side when she wakes up.” Jake chuckled as he slightly readjusted himself and pulled his hood over his head. There were a plethora of ways you could react to his presence running through his mind, he hoped though, that the young nurse who’d accidentally filled him in on your current fight was right. 

“I hope so too kid, I hope so too.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The slow steady rhythm of the many monitors currently tracking your vitals were the first sounds you heard as you slowly but surely woke from what you could only describe as one of the deepest states of complete and utter rest you’d ever experienced. 

Next it was the multi coloured Christmas lights that were hanging around your room. The reds, greens, yellows and blues that reminded you of nineties joy were the first things you noticed in the dimly lit hospital room you knew you were in. 

The third thing you noticed wasn’t a sound or an object, but it was the all too familiar sleeping man curled up in the most awkward position imaginable next to your bedside. Jake, your Jake. Sleeping with his mouth open wide and his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Woah—“ You groggily cooed as you felt the presence of another man checking your vitals beside you. “Whatever the hell kinda drugs you’ve got me on right now Doc has me seeing my ex husband.” You smiled ear to ear as you kept looking at Jake, sleeping, a little bit of drool even tainted his chin as his arms remained crossed and his hood covered his head. “This shits strong as.”

Doctor Ignatii continued reading and recording your vitals the more you came to, he knew, judging by the time you’d finished your dose of intravenous sedative and how cognitive you were, you’d come to realise in about two, maybe three minutes indefinitely that it wasn’t the drugs making you see the mirage of a man at your bedside, but in fact the real deal. 

“Mrs Seresin, can you follow the light for me?” Doctor Ignatii asked with a smile as he clicked on the small but effective flashlight at the end of his pen. He was gentle with the way he handled your head ever so cautiously, holding your eyelids open one by one as you followed the light accordingly. “Can you count to five?” 

“One, two, three, four, five—“ You mumbled out. Jake heard your voice as he stirred next to you and shot up with a gasp that startled you. He looked like a deer caught in headlights as he sat upright and wiped the dry drool from his chin. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living Mr Seresin, I've seen a lot of ways people have tried to sleep in those horrid chairs but I’ve never seen that particular position before.” Doctor Ignatii chuckled to himself as he clicked his pen light off and placed it back in his top pocket. “Alright Y/n, wiggle your toes and touch your nose for me.” All you did was stare at your husband. Why was he here? Who told him? “Mrs Seresin, wiggle your toes for me please.” Doctor Ignatii was a little firmer in his request, he wasn't sure if you were just distracted or if you simply couldn't comply with his request because you couldn't feel your toes.  

But when you finally did wiggle your toes, when you finally brought your index finger up to your nose and when you finally spoke, Doctor Ignatii knew that in the next hour or so when he got you up and walking, that you were going to be just fine.  

“What are you doing here?” Your voice was rather horse from the sedative but you were able to ask Jake that all too powerful question that sliced his skin clean open like one of the sharpest knives never could. Doctor Ignatii knew that he had to give you some space when he was finished assessing your ability to wiggle your toes he cleared his throat. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I'll give you two a moment alone, but Lydia will be in shortly.” He explained before making his way out of your hospital room. The silence was deafening as Jake cleared his throat and looked anywhere but in your eyes to begin with. 

“Jake–” You immediately asked again as you tried to sit up a little straighter. “What are you doing here?” Jake ignored your initial question and instead pressed his tongue into the middle of his cheek. His blood was boiling, he was so full of rage that you hadn’t told him you were sick that he couldn't think straight now that he knew you were awake and talking. You were supposed to be the mother of his children if at the very least. He felt like you had an obligation to disclose medical diagnoses that could alter the course of your children's lives. Right? 

“You have cancer and you didn't tell me?” Jake frowned as he spoke through a tired growl. “You have cancer and you didn’t think to mention it at all, not even a downplayed version of the truth? You just–” Jakes reaction wasn't something that surprised you, but his anger did. That anger was something you hadn’t seen in a long time, anger born from love and compassion. An anger so pure it rivalled empathy itself just in a different font. “You just negated the entire thing? Jesus Christ Y/n! You have–” 

“Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma.” You interrupted Jake as tears welled in your eyes. “I know, I found out back in November, I hadn’t been feeling all that well since around March.” You kicked yourself everyday for not getting yourself to a doctor sooner, but with your separation, work, the kids, you just decided to self diagnose yourself as an overworked mum who had little to no time for herself. Finding the time to see a doctor was nearly impossible, it was only when you found that lump in the shower you panicked. “Jake I–” 

“You–” Jake clenched his jaw as tight as he could, you swore he could have chipped his bottom teeth he was clenching that hard trying to control his frustration. “You don’t get to fucking do this to me do you understand?” 

“Excuse me?” You questioned as Jake stood up from the chair he’d been cramped in for the better half of the last twelve hours. “I didn’t choose to do this willingly Jake are you fucking kidding me?” It may have come out more aggressive than Jake had intended it to, but his heart hurt so much he swore he was having a heart attack the more he looked at you in the hospital bed connected to machines and wires that told him what your heart was doing and what your blood pressure was. “I didn't choose to get fucking cancer!” 

“No, no you didn’t Y/n but you chose not to tell me about it.” Jake sighed. “Am I really that bad of a person that you can't tell the father of your fuckings kids that you might be dying? Stage three!? I'd understand if you had a scare and didn’t mention it or a bad rash but stage three?” Jake spat as he walked around your hospital room like he was looking for a way out of this whole mess. “That’s closer to a death sentence than it is to a malignant mass!” 

All you could do was listen, you couldn't run this time. You had to face the man who broke your heart more ways than one as he raised his voice and walked around your hospital room with his hands on his hips. 

“You, you had a stroke too.” Jake's voice softened as did his eyes, the realisation had hit as the immediate love filled anger that clouded his judgement faded. The misguided anger that he might truly be losing the love of his life had begun to wash away as the sadness crept in. 

“Yeah–” You didn't hold it against Jake, you'd had more time to process this than he did. “Apparently the chemotherapy was just causing havoc to my nervous system and caused a clot that travelled from my leg to my brain.” You said it with a shrug, like it was no big deal. Jake's eyes widened at the idea of something that was meant to help you had done so much damage. “I was given a pamphlet, strokes were a side effect, but I just didn’t think it would happen to me you know.” 

“Honeybee–” Jake cooed as he came back over to your bedside. “I–” There was a distinct tentative pause in the way his hand automatically went to slip into yous, but even though Jake second guessed his own judgement there for a split second, he still placed his hand in yours and reveled in the way you squeezed him back. “I can't understand why you wouldn't tell me about this.” Jake had tried to understand, truly he did. He thought about it alot on the plane–all the ways in which he’d ever let you down. He understood he was a shitty husband, or had been, but this was life or death. 

Jake almost wished he never asked why and had instead just silently accepted the fact you decided not to loop him in on what was probably your biggest health complication since Samuel was born. He almost wished he hadn’t asked because the way you looked right into his eyes as your bottom lip quivered and your eyes watered with such a heartbreaking cry of anguish that ripped through your chest, Jake wished he hadnt fucking asked. 

“I didn't tell you because I just didn't think you’d care.” You cried violently as Jake helped you sit up. “I didnt–I just didnt think youd, you'd care about me.” Your cries were muffled into Jake's shoulder as he held you, he wanted to climb right into the hospital bed with you, but he couldn't. So Jake compromised and leaned over just enough to wrap you in his arms and rub small circles into your back as you buried your face in his chest and shoulder. “I didn't think you’d fucking care–because you haven’t cared about me in years!”

“I have never stopped caring about you.” Jake cried too, he couldn't hold it in any longer. “I have never and I will never stop caring about you Honey.” It was a hard statement to believe especially with what the past four years had been. “I promised you in sickness and in health, I'm here, I've got you.” Jake cooed as he tried to soothe you, your cries of pure anguish for your own situation made him want to die. What more could he possibly do to ease this burden from you, what could he possibly do to take the pain away. “I'm here, I'm right here.” 

“You don’t have to pretend.” You tried to calm yourself down as much as you could. “Please Jake you don’t have to pretend to care about me anymore, I’m not yours.” 

“No you’re not—“ Jake nodded in agreement as he pulled away to wipe your tears, you looked like hell but he wasn’t about to tell you that. To Jake you were still the most beautiful woman in the entire world, the only woman he ever needed, wanted. “But I’m still yours alright, you have me and I’m not pretending.” Jake wiped the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks, he tried not to tug at the oxygen tube feeding into your nose. “I’ve got you yeah? You don’t have to do this alone.” 

“I never wanted to do any of it alone.” You sobbed again, it was all too much. Jake knew what you meant by all, you never expected your marriage to fall apart. Neither did he. “I can’t do any of this, I’m so fucking scared.” If someone had asked Jake three years ago if his marriage would fall apart around him, he would have stood up and punched whoever had said such blasphemy in the mouth. But here he was. 

“You’re okay.” Jake tried his best to console you, he did know what else he could do in the moment beside to hold you. The kiss he left atop your forehead was so pure and full of love you swore it sent an electric shock through your body, the same kind of electricity you felt when you slept with Jake the night before you said goodbye to your kids. “I'm not leaving your side alright, “I’m here, I've got you, I can't lose you this way– I wont.” 

Jake knew this love was a burden that you both shared. The both of you were just two sinners who can't atone from a lone prayer. Two souls tied, intertwined by pride and guilt. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Jake was true to his word, he didn't leave your side for the rest of the day. He stayed right by your side hand in hand, just sitting there, talking, not talking, sleeping. All that mattered was that he was there. 

“What do you mean Bradley Bradshaw offered to get the kids from your mum's house?” You thought for a split second that perhaps you hadnt woken up. Or maybe you'd actually woken up in some parallel universe where your husband never forgot how to love you and he didn't have a disdain for the man who gave him his Call Sign out of rage. “Bradley Bradshaw? As in Rooster?” 

Jake couldn't help but to smile, there was so much he had to fill you in on, the two of you hadnt really sat down and spoken uninterrupted without the kids since January. Sure there were family functions and times where you and Jake had to coexist and coparents. But he never really saw a reason to tell you all about his time in North Island. You were with him when he was called to Togun the first time, there wasn't any need to really rub your nose in the fact he was called back again. After all, a part of the reason you left was because Jake prioritised his work life over his home life, more specifically, you. 

“Would you believe me if I told you I saved his life?” Jake couldn't erase the grin that grew ear to ear from his face as he watched your eyes light up with shock and excitement. He missed this, the gentle moments. 

“You did not–” In all the time you had known Jake while he was a loyalist to the United States Navy, he had never once put a toe out of line. Never pushed back, never rocked the boat. He had a goal and that goal was to reach the top. You couldn't do that while drawing unwanted attention to yourself. 

“I did,” He chuckled through that very grin that you swore was permanently pinned to his cheeks. “Even went against orders to do it.” The look of pure shock on your face told Jake all he needed to know, you didn't believe what he was telling you. 

“Who are you and what have you done with Jake Seresin?” You chuckled softly as Jake ran his thumb across your hand. “You? Going against the brace? Unheard of.” A lot of what made Jake, well, Jake–was that he loved his job. 

“Trust me Honey I never thought I'd see the damn day either.” Jake sighed, he still couldn't believe how much his time in North Island had changed him. How it broadened his perspective on all the things that made him simply him. “But he was stuck in a pretty tight spot, so was Mav, our Captain.” 

“Well–” You smiled as you readjusted yourself in your bed. Unbeknownst to both you and Jake, Lydia was watching just out of frame from her spot at the nurses station. She couldn't help but to notice the loving, all encompassing look the two of you shared. Perhaps her small mistake that usually would have been a carrier ending HIPAA violation wasn't so bad after all. “Look at The Hangman go huh, who says he's always leaving people out to dry.” 

“Oh I could still name a few–” It was organic the way you and Jake fell into a rhythm with one another when the pair of you allowed each other to do so. “But yeah, he's gonna fly in, get the kids for us because I really don't want them there for too long without at least one of us there and bring them back to your mums for us.” 

“Is she alright with that?” As always Jake knew you would think about everyone but yourself when the only person you should have been thinking about right now was you. “What if she–” Jake cut you off with a simple shake of his head.  

“I already organised it.” Jake explained softly, his thumb never stopped stroking your hand as he held it. “Your mums gonna take the kids while we figure all this out, I don't want them with mine.” It wasn't that Jake didn't love his Ma, he did. But the idea of her having the kids for an extended amount of time gave him stomach issues he couldn't handle. “I saved his life, I trust him to escort our three terrors back here.” 

“Have you met our kids? You asked with an all knowing look that Jake caught right away. Maybe Rooster wasn't the best person to call on, he had zero experience with kids, let alone Jake's twins and two year old. 

Jake knew that you knew there was a darkness in the distance, but in the moment while everything felt normal, you both laughed together knowing exactly how the flight with your kids would go for Bradley Bradshaw. 

“You’re totally right–” Jake cooed. “He might need to bring his flight helmet as a safety precaution.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb

[fandomzwriterk]

This my first time ever requesting anything on this site, so please bear with me 💀 I have a request for any of the Mortal Kombat 1 characters (preferably Lin Kuei and/or earthrealmers) with a special other that ats like either Deadpool or Wolverine? I've been hyperfixated on both, and would interested to see how you portray it!! Thanks 💚💚 (also, love your content btw.)

A/N: yes absolutely yes! I act like Deadpool a lot so this is gonna be fun for me😂😂 Also reader with be based off of both Wolverine and Deadpool🤣🤣😂😂 Brought to you by: Ashes by Nathan Sharp

Bi Han

-> When he first met you, which was a mission to bring you back alive, your first words to him were “come at me daddy” as you pulled out a pistol

-> Confused the man right then and there, making him freeze

-> Answered back with “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

-> As you pulled the trigger, Bi Han straight up froze it with a wall of ice

-> Of course, after you shot, you came running up with your claws unsheathed, stabbing right through the ice almost hitting him

-> “There’s a lot of things wrong with me! Where should I begin? I got tortured… A LOT. Oh I was basically a lab rat for a guy, may he rest in peace, that shot me up full of drugs to stop my cancer and now I can self heal which means I can’t die which means I’m forced to live the rest of my life knowing someone took my humanity away.”

-> Bi Han is just fighting you with his mouth wide open

-> He has no idea what to even say to you

-> “Come on bub, I’m not gonna waste my time fighting you. After all I just told you I can’t die.”

-> “Can you… suffer from other things?”

-> You answered with “yes but I grow anything back that gets cut off”

-> You pulled out a katana as he came to strike down on you with an ice blade

-> There is a lot of back forth… mostly you just trauma dumping on him

-> Bi Han is just thinking to himself “I swear to the Elder gods if she doesn’t shut up I’m gonna kill her- Crap.”

-> The fight ends with him plunging an ice blade through your chest and up making you fall to your knees, pinning you there

-> “Oh I’m not new to this. I like where this is going”

-> Bi Han just crossed his arms in front of him, standing proud as a fiery portal opened up

-> “Oh great thanks dude now I’m apparently going to hell.”

-> You tried to cut the ice with adamantium claws, still stuck in your chest considering how fucking cold it was

Kuai Liang

-> Met you on accident… really! On accident!

-> He had been walking through town when he saw you flip a 6 foot dude onto his back while the rest of the bar was going wild

-> He saw your steel like claws, cutting through everything in its path

-> He HAD to meet you

-> But you were gone as soon as he went to track you

-> “Not my first time being stalked but I will say, you my friend are terrible at it.” You answered sitting on the balcony above his head jumping for him

-> He pulled out his weapon, lighting it on fire as he swung towards you, pulling onto the rope that was holding it

-> You backflipped over his head, making his back get turned to you

-> “Ooh… kinky. Not my first rodeo with that though.”

-> Just stopped in his tracks as he turned to fight you, confusing the hell outta him

-> “I You are very strange”

-> “Eh. I’ve heard that one a few times.”

-> “From who may I ask?”

-> You showed him your bloody claws that had been retracted back into your skin previously

-> You lunged at him, making him roll to the side

-> “Oh come on I hate it when the fun is-“

-> He had cut you, seeing your blood light aflame as it spew from your arm

-> But instantly, it healed, sending Kuai into a state of worry

-> You still felt the skin slowly close

-> You did have no intention to fight or kill him

-> You were mad your sleeve had been cut

-> “Oh come on this was my favorite one!”

-> Your mood changed instantly, seeming to forget he was there as you pulled off the sleeve

-> “I uh… I apologize. It wasn’t my intention to attack you. I wanted to-“

-> “No need to apologize, I just fight everyone I come across. After all I don’t know if you were trying to kill me there. Speaking of which how in gods name did you light that on fire? I’ve been trying for years and never understood.”

-> He put away his weapons upon hearing you start to ramble about random things

-> That fight ended but he asked you to accompany him to his home base

-> And of course… you agreed. Why not have fun all the time since you can live forever?

Tomas Vrbada

-> Weirdest place he met you?

-> At Johnnys house where you had been training him in weapon combat

-> Tomas had an immediate liking to you

-> You were even stronger than Raiden, who had been there with Kung Lao

-> He was entranced by your adamantium claws, your precise aim when it came to guns, and your incredible healing

-> Not gonna lie, when he first trained with you, he was so scared when he cut you deep on your arm

-> You being chill about it and going on about your day like it was nothing freaked him out

-> “You can heal yourself?”

-> “Umm… yeah? Thought Mr Playboy Billionaire would’ve told you that.”

-> “Johnny is-“

-> “Unreliable? Difficult? Stubborn? Ignoring all my advice? Yep that’s the Johnny Cage I’ve always known.”

-> You walked off with no worry, just cleaning your katanas with a soft cloth as you went to sit down next to a small pool of water

-> It took him some time, but Tomas eventually found out who you were

-> Surprise surprise, Tomas found out you’re the legend herself, the great and mighty Wolverine

-> Johnny told him that they wouldn’t allow a female to play a dominant role even though he fought against it, making some male actor the lead and changing some of the story

-> All this time thought you were maybe Wolverine’s daughter

-> But… your personality was more like Wade’s, a friend of Johnny’s who played your other “crude” half Deadpool that was actually really you as well

-> You could be two different people, and he liked that

-> So you were real, and Tomas wanted to always have his eyes on the legend herself

-> Soon enough, about some months later and after visiting the Shirai Ryu enough times, you talked to him about your trauma

-> He told you he knew about it, but he’s not one to judge what you went through

-> After all, he lost family too

-> Secretly wants to find out what exactly you can live through

All Brothers

-> Tomas is protective of you, Bi Han wants to push you to your limits, and Kuai is the one who makes sure you do the right thing, even if you feel like a bad person

-> Tomas very much admires you and I’m sure he, Johnny, and Raiden have made a fan club about you

-> Bi Han is the one who punishes you for wrongdoings, even going as far as to hurt you to make you listen

-> Kuai Liang is the one who takes care of you on your rougher days

-> All three understand they have no place try and understand the torture and pain you went through

-> All three have thought about you fighting them in a 3v1

-> You become the most important person to them for various reasons

-> Bi Han makes you important by telling you and reminding you of all the things you’ve fought so far, how strong you are to still be alive

-> Tomas always has your back through anything, specially missions or when it’s just him and you

-> Kuai always reassures you that even if you’ve done some bad things in the past, that’s not what you always will be defined as

-> However, they know you’re technically immortal and that even if you are and they aren’t, they’ll still treat you like a normal person

-> If you ever have nightmares, each brother does a different thing depending on who’s around

-> If it’s just you and Bi Han alone, he’ll immediately come to find you if you’re having a panic attack or a flashback of awful things you’ve done and said before

-> He chills you down when you’re thrashing in your sleep and burning up

-> He knows you’re not a shitty person like everyone said you were, you’re just a broken “hero” who’s been screwed over so many times

-> If it’s you and Kuai, Kuai always stays nearby with anything you need and if you need alone time, he’s still around with food or comfort

-> Always enforces that you will always be a “hero” even if you don’t feel worthy

-> Is the one who will watch your “movies” with you

-> If it’s Tomas, he’s always by your side, never wavering or leaving

-> He’s the one who’s protecting you, making sure your bad days will be good ones in any way he can

-> He’s the one you talk about your past “transgressions” with

-> Tomas always has some sort comfort thing for you wether it be a blanket or a food you like

-> When they’re all there and you’re having a breakdown or nightmare, they’ll each find a spot to be near you with all three of them cuddled against you like you’re a child

-> You’re all snuggled together like a family even if you’re all different

-> They’ll all stay till you’re comfortable, focused, and ready to keep fighting ahead

A/N: as you can see, I’m very partial to Tomas I’m sorry🤣🤣🤣 Anyways I’m back from vacation now (my bf and I went on a trip)

[kiestrokes]

Kie, I am in desperate need of some SHINee hard hours 👹 but also soft bc you know I am a soft bby

So what do you think would make the members go feral for you but in like a ✨tender✨ way, and how would that manifest?

SHINee Soft Kinks That Lead to Hard Hours | NSFW

Pairing: SHINee x Gender Neutral!Reader/You/Yn Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. Genre: hard hours, headcanon, imagine, fluff, smut. Warnings: Jonghyun is mentioned below, warning to my fellow Shawols who still find it difficult to read or see him.

Sexually Explicit Content: non explicit smut, kissing, biting, marking, fondling.

🗝️ Note: @chans-room I might kick you out of the jaeger (again) for this...esp after you know I was secretly drooling over Minho's tummy in our DM's last night. Nothing is beta read per usual.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

Kim Jonghyun We are going to keep Jjong PG-13 out of respect, but Jjong's biggest soft kink is eye contact, add in touching and you've seen how it instantly makes him a magnet to other members and idols. Jonghyun needs to caress and kiss every inch of your body and as soon as its reciprocated, it's like you set him on fire in the best way possible.

Lee Jinki Ohhh Jinki 🫠 hear me out...Jinki's soft kink is laughter. He loves laughing, but a person who is just so willing to laugh too? Oh, he is whipped. It takes you a little while to figure this out, why this man is always attacking you with kisses in the middle of your giggles and smiles. Jinki is soft and romantic, intimacy with him is slow and sustained. He's holding off his orgasms for an hour, working you slowly through several first.

Choi Minho MinhoeMinhoeMinhoe. The way to this man is through his stomach. You make him a feast and he's immediately taking you to bed afterwards. Where you can’t stop yourself from kissing a nipping at his swollen belly. His abs still faintly outlined underneath the stretch of his stomach. He has the softest, most supple skin from his strict skincare and grooming schedule. Fed Minho is a little slower about things, he's going to take his time. Making everything all that much more intense. Not as drawn out as Jinki, Minho is sensual and you're both coming in no time.

Kim Kibum Can I do this? Yes...okay. He might be the hardest to configure when it comes to soft kinks, I think Kibum really loves receiving gifts. Especially if he doesn't have to tell you himself. I can just imagine it's a random Tuesday morning and you picked up something he had been eyeing a couple weeks ago (you also feed the dogs because Kibum cannot stand the smell of their food). He gasps, clutching the item and then clutching you. Peppering you with kisses between his praise. He is quick to reciprocate in working your body to a quick orgasm with that talented mouth and pretty hands.

Lee Taemin I think for Taemin it is honestly anyone that can keep up with him dancing. In the middle of the club, the undulating bodies, the closeness of everything. The minute your hips track with his and you never step on his toes, not even once 👀 Taemin is ready to corral you into a dimly lit corridor. Being intimate with him is not quick, everything is sensual and drawn out mirroring the way that he dances. He takes his time, because there is no need to rush in our little cancer bbys mind. Little touches from his small hands everywhere until you're dragging his pretty lips back to your mouth. Taemin doesn't mind when you take control, but he still has these tendencies (the grip on your waist, on the back of your neck, in his gaze) that let you know he is in mutual control.

© COPYRIGHT 2023 by kiestrokes All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.

[salemofthe0pera]

you against yourself ; mark lee smau

[xlv] friendsgiving p.1

“hyuck please stop trying to beat mark’s ass, its literally Friendsgiving for fuck's sake." renjun chastised from the kitchen, in full mom mode.

friendsgiving was in full swing, the groups from both apartments gathering in 9301’s living room that had been converted into a dining room thanks to jeno bringing in their dining table form their own place. food had just finished being made, all set up nice and pretty on renjun’s white tablecloth from his mother. the charcuterie board, courtesy of giselle, has been picked completely clean and was just enough to quell the hunger until dinner. the warning in renjun's voice was enough to make hyuck stop attempting to kill mark for the umpteenth time. 

“he is such a fucking snake, i hate you markus lee.” hyuck seethed at the aforementioned boy, huffing and puffing for breath as he sat down harshly at one of the open seats at the table. 

“my name isn’t markus?” 

yn pressed her lips together in a tight line, choosing to sit next to hyuck at the table and console the pouting culinary major. “hey i think it’s so cute you’re a culinary major.”

“exactly! it’s cute, not cool or smart or like you where you’re like curing cancer and shit!” he whined, throwing his head back against the seat dramatically. 

“okay, i’m not curing cancer but thanks for the thought,” she said quizzically, soothingly smoothing his hair back with her palm.   

“i’m gonna kill myself.” hyuck whined, hands dragging down his face with a overemphasized groan. 

jeno sat across form the pair, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. he shook his head with a snort, taking a long sip of the water in front of him.  “you are kind of being a little dramatic right now hyuck.”

hyuck gasped, sitting upright in his set with an open jaw and a shocked expression. he placed a hand on his chest in feign offense, “i am not! how would you feel if a secret you’ve kept for four years was suddenly outed by your bitch ass roommate!”

mark came into view, sitting next to jeno with a flat look on his face. He shook his head with a snort and mirrored jeno’s position, crossed arms and leaning back against the chair. he laughed softly to himself, “dude we all knew your major was culinary science, sorry i was apparently supposed to know you were gatekeeping!”

"maybe you should change your major to drama because that's all you know how to do." chenle chimed in from the living room.

hyuck whined again, leaning forwards and resting his head on the table with a smack. This earned a laugh from mark and a scoff from jeno who stood and left the table to help renjun with more setting up. 

yn leaned forwards on the table, whispering to mark. “do you wanna run and get a drink while they’re setting up?” 

mark pretended to think, leaning in to mirror her actions with his forearms on the table. “hmm, perchance. Right now?”

"you can't just say perchance, but yes."

mark nodded, slowly standing from his seat to which yn followed. the pair discreetly moved to the door, slipping on their shoes and attempted to conceal their laughter. mark put a hand on the doorknob, the unforgiving front door creaking louder than normal as if to alert everyone else of their escape. renjun’s eyes snapped up to them, realization flooding them as he looked around to make sure no one else noticed. The girl was struggling to put her boots on, curse doc martens.

“hey! Where are you guys going?” jaemin’s shrill voice suddenly rang out. 

“go, go!” mark laughed, grabbing yn by the waist and throwing her like luggage over his shoulder.  yn yelped, clutching her shoes as he whisked them out of 9301 and raced down the hall of the complex to the elevator.

as the pair raced down the hall the unfortunate sound of a thud made mark stop in his tracks and give a jostle to yn. she rolled her eyes, smacking his back and gave a half-hearted apology for dropping one of her boots behind them. mark begrudgingly walked back, picking up her shoe then resumed his voyage to the elevator. once inside, he pressed the button for the first floor and sighed. 

“you can put me down now.” 

“oh right, sorry dude.” mark nervously laughed, gently setting her back feet down on the ground. 

yn laughed at his sudden awkwardness, slipping her shoes on with a bit of a struggle. Mark knelt down, tying the laces of her first shoe as he hummed a soft tune. yn froze at the action before resuming her movement, eyeing the boy before her. 

he pat her ankle after tying the second one, standing upright just as the elevator doors opened. “do you want matcha?” 

“huh? Oh, yeah. Yes please sorry.” she answered, coming to walk in tandem beside him. the day was cloudy and crisp in temperature, the weather a reminder of the upcoming season. the streets were busy, it was Monday which was odd but it created a sense of hustle and bustle that calmed oneself. 

mark was nose deep in phone, mobile ordering their boba drinks it seemed, he failed to notice the lamppost in front of him on the sidewalk. yn sighed, moving him out of the way by the sleeve of his jacket, guiding him as he continued to type on his phone. eventually she looped their arms together, acting like a seeing dog leading her blind companion. unbeknownst to her, mark had already finished ordering a while ago. 

the blind leading the blind it seems. 

-

[10.14] {FUCK. sm. all my homies hate sm # justice for seunghan} {also if the taglist isn't working for you please let me know, im sorry tumblr user interface sucks}

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taglist: @dolleyedgirl @polarisjisung @sunghoonsgfreal @kukkurookkoo @morkiee @luluvhs @stqrgr7 @rem-mp3

[peachesofteal]

peach I was diagnosed as bipolar this week. im scared and have no one to talk to. Its going to be the rest of my life and that scares me

tw mental health, medication, etc

Okay, let's chat.

These are my opinions:

First, you are not bipolar. You have bipolar. Having bipolar is not being bipolar. People who have cancer are not cancer. For me this distinction is important.

It is really scary at first. Your feelings are valid. A lot of people worry they'll never live fulfilled or happy lives once receiving a diagnosis. This is blatantly untrue. Yes, it's the rest of your life. No, you're not doomed or broken or sick.

Here is what I (personally) recommend:

See a therapist outside of a psychiatrist. Full stop.

Medication. Don't try to raw dog it. For most, it will end badly. For me, it ended badly on multiple occasions. Some people refuse meds because they believe they can manage on their own, and good for them, but there is no gold star for being unmedicated. My personal opinion is: it's dangerous. Additionally, it could take a long time to find the right med or combination of meds. It will be frustrating. Don't give up. Also, if you start taking meds and all of the sudden "realize you don't actually have bi polar" or "think you never had it in the first place" ... it means you took the drugs and the drugs are working. It doesn't mean stop taking your meds.

A support system. If you don't have a solid support system in your life, look up support groups for mental heath or bi polar specifically. Cultivate support in online spaces. Listen and learn from other's experiences. If there's absolutely nowhere else to turn, join the bi polar groups on reddit and take comfort in the fact that A. you're definitely not alone and B. there is always someone else who's done way more fucked up shit than you have. Trust me.

Self awareness. Recognizing depressive episodes, hyper mania, manic episodes will go a long way. This is really difficult. Hyper mania is almost impossible to determine from the inside looking out. Depressive and manic episodes are a little easier because they are/can be so extreme. Psychosis is impossible to recognize in yourself until you're on the other side. This is why a support system is really important. Get an app and track your moods, your feelings, your habits. Look for the patterns. Are you sleeping too much? Too little? Are you spending a lot of money? When was the last time you saw your friends, are you engaging in risky sexual behaviors, do you think you're god, are you sleeping for fourteen hours, are you talking so fast no one can understand you, do you think you're hearing things, are you doing a lot of drugs, are you driving across the country for no reason, are you making serious life changes that you've never considered before, are you flying off the handle with rage, etc etc etc.

Look back and see if you can recognize behaviors or symptoms you've exhibited and use that knowledge to help you recognize them in the future. Medication is not foolproof. Do not use this advice to look back and pick yourself apart.

No psychedelics. Not even micro dosing shrooms.

Be gentle with yourself and get enough sleep. Be honest in therapy. Get some sunlight. Exercise to the best of your ability. Do not skip your meds. Give yourself grace. Embrace who you are.

[voldermorlostnose]

HATRED\\\ PART TWO

He hates you right? he hates you...so why does he have you pinned under him right now, bathing in the pale moonlight. His calloused hand holding your wrist down on hard cold floor, his breathing erratic, but so was yours. Your hair splattered on the floor, eyes wide and cheeks red.

"G-gojo-"

He hates you so how did he reached this point? Why was he fighting back the urge to capture those pink lips in a hungry kiss. Why? He hates you..so why does he have you pinned under him?! how?! what happened! how did this happen!!

You sat at the bench, watching the sun go down your mind stilled filled with the earlier interaction you had with him, it still pains you deeply. Why does he hates you so much? What did you ever did to him?? Your heart aches every time you remember his cold harsh words.

"Its pretty late I wonder where he is" The newfound voice startled you as you quickly turned around to see none other than your brunette friend, Shoko, like usual with a cigarette in between her lips her gaze was fixed on the sun and it slowly divert to you, her brown eyes gazing at you as if she knows your darkest secret.

"Is what you are thinking" She continued, her lips curling up in a grin as he take a long drag of her cigarette and puffed it out. Your body freeze up as she read your mind, like always, you wondered if she had the ability to read people's mind, you can't help but look away from her, gazing down at your lap, your fist curled up tightly.

On seeing your reaction her grin widens knowing her guess was right "Its okay you don't need to be embarrassed about it" She stall toward you and stub the cigarette on the ground, throwing it on the nearby trash can and sat down beside you, lighting up a new cancer stick.

"He's fine...after all he's the strongest"

Yeah he's the strongest he doesn't need your concern...you should stop worrying about him...he's fine...."Shoko..." you softly called out, your gaze not shifting from your lap. She hum in respond, waiting for you to continue whilst taking a drag from the cancer stick. "Why does he hate me..." the tone in your voice was weak and timid...you were vulnerable. She held the cigarette in between her fingers and look at you "Why do you think he hates you?" she asked.

"Shoko..." you sighed heavily and glanced up a her not before lowering your gaze to your lap again "Don't act dumb please...you know he hates me..."

The room was filled with nothing but silence after what you said, the only sound was her puffing out the smoke. "That's what he thinks..." she began her caramel brown eyes gazing at the dusky sky "And that's what he wants you to think"

You didn't knew why but your heart started racing upon hearing what she said, you finally glanced up at her your eyes filled with surprise and confusion, she look so casual after saying that, she looked so...matured.

"What do you mean?"

"He just wants you to think he hates you" She stated again with a sly smile on her face she tilt her head and her eyes swiftly glanced at you with a look that says 'I know everything' then she got up "Ah its getting cold! I'm going insideee you should too"

"h-hey! wait!"

she stopped on her track and peered at you "Don't worry he doesn't hate you" with that she walked away "Its quiet the opposite" she muttered, but you heard it...like she wanted you too...

It was late now, everyone went to their dorm room so did you but you couldn't sleep maybe because Gojo wasn't back yet? you peered at the clock it was already ten so where was he? you slowly sat up unable to sleep the concern growing inside you 'he is fine...he's fine...stop worrying...' even if you consoled yourself you couldn't stop your heart beating rapidly, the restlessness and concern eating you up.

Finally you got up and went outside, the cold wind hitting you causing you to shiver. 'why didn't I wear anything warm' you thought but your thoughts vanished in the back of your mind when your eyes fell to the moon...so mesmerising....

"What are you doing out here" His cold voice startled you as quickly turned around and saw none other than Gojo himself, he was still on his uniform and he had his sunglasses off, his beautiful blue eyes send a shiver down your spine as your heart beat start to pick up its pace.

"Didn't you heard me?" he said again. walking toward you "What are you doing out here late?"

STAY TUNED FOR PART THREE!!! AND FOLLOW FOR MOREEE

[moodcrab]

Fixing Skyrim's Daedric Quests

Part II - Clavicus Vile

Honestly this was the most underwhelming Daedric Quest in Skyrim, but Skyrim is by no means unique in this as it's just the most recent in a long line of underwhelming Clavicus Vile quests in the Elder Scrolls franchise. Vile, the god of wishes, deals and dodgy monkey palm style tricks forms a natural counterpart to the Divine Zenithar, god of honest work and trade, but for some reason there isn't a Vile quest that isn't "Go to dungeon and kill X". Skyrim, to its credit, tried to make it interesting with Barbas, but still resorted to "go to this cave and kill this guy."

The whole story of Sebastian, the mage who wished for a lycanthropy cure for his daughter only for Vile to grant him an axe, is a truly boring misunderstanding of what Vile is all about. An axe isn't a cure, not even in an ironic double meaning of the word cure. Any axe, indeed any weapon or spell, can kill a werewolf, but he didn't wish for his daughter to be killed, something he could easily do without making a deal with the devil. There are several ways to cure lycanthropy in Tamriel, death is not one of them. If you have cancer but you die in a car accident you are not cured of cancer, literally the opposite in fact. This isn't a mind bending M Night plot twist, it's bullshit. Not only is a dead werewolf not a cured one, he didn't wish for his daughter to be killed, so there's nothing stopping him from just throwing the axe in the sea and going to find a Glenmoril Witch. Vile gains nothing from this arrangement, and Vile doesn't enter into arrangements that don't benefit him.

A true Vile wish would have cured the lycanthropy in such a way that causes unforeseen consequences that end up killing the daughter, dooming her soul to The Fields of Regret, his realm of Oblivion. The wish would be technically granted, but it backfired horribly. The only thing remotely Clavicus Vile-ish was the big "rug pull" at the end of the quest where he offers you the axe if you kill Barbas, and like, no. No thanks. I have access to better axes, I'm not killing a dog for this *two handed 🤮* one. I never wanted this axe, there is no reason in the quest to even use the axe yourself let alone grow attached to it, unlike Barbas who has now accompanied me all through the quest. This isn't a choice.

Quest: Best Wishes

The quest opener is being moved from Falkreath to Morthal, because vanilla Morthal has no general store. Well, now it does. Compared to all the other stores you visit it will have a unique look, very mysterious and quirky with oddities on the shelves, and the owner will be an eccentric character with a cute dog. For the quest to activate you must have traded at the store a few times and reached a level. On entering, the owner will be distraught and refuse to trade unless you agree to find his dog who has gone missing.

You go on a bit of a dog hunt. Asking around Morthal gets you little useful information. In fact, if you ask certain people, they will say some curious things; like they have no idea who you're talking about, or that there isn't a general store in Morthal at all, "Oh that old place? That closed down when I was a child after old man whatever died"...

You eventually track the dog down outside the city and, surprise, it talks! Barbas explains the situation, that he is the somewhat loyal side kick of Clavicus Vile, who has an offer for you. He also makes it clear, this offer is an invitation only, you would walk away right now if you were wise. Assuming you aren't a pussy, you of course return Barbas to the shop and hear the offer.

The shopkeeper transforms into Vile, in all his jovial Skaafin glory. He tells you about a wish he has recently received, one that he would like your help in granting. There's this would be merchant in the city of Whiterun named Ysolda, who you have likely already met as she is a very popular wifu, she has been a devout Zenithar worshipper for years, but has become impatient with waiting for her hard work to pay off. She really wants to be a trader, and has prayed to Vile to make it so. If you agree to take care of it for him, he will reward you. As Barbas has recommended, you can quit the quest right now. Or...

You head to Whiterun and start investigating Ysolda. It's up to you how the wish gets granted, depending on what you discover about her:

1. She would like to buy the Bannered Mare of her friend Hulda, who isn't ready to sell. So you could ruin the business to make Hulda desperate to sell, but Ysolda would get a ruined inn. Or you could forge Hulda's will and stage an "accident", so Ysolda inherits the inn at the expense of her friend's life.

2. She has done some work with the Khajiit caravans, learning what she can about mercantile skills, but expressing how hard and horrible their lifestyle sounds. Investigating this will lead you to a secret meeting between Ysolda and an Orc. The Orc hands Ysolda a "the goods" but Ysolda complains there isn't enough. The Orc explains how dangerous getting it is. Ysolda doesn't care, she tells him he needs to go get more. If you follow the Orc to Sleeping Tree Camp you'll witness his death at the hands of the giants there. On his body there is an incriminating note, which you could show to the Whiterun guard captain, who will banish her from the city as punishment. Ysolda will spend the rest of her days with the Khajiit caravan, living as a vagrant and exiled from her home, but a trader, just as she wished.

3. As Barbas, who will accompany you, advises, you could warn Ysolda and break your side of the bargain. She believes your story (how else could you have known about the wish?), but depending on your speechcraft and personality attribute - because a fixed Skyrim would obviously have attributes - you either strike the right amount of fear into her that she flees to the temple to seek sanctuary, or you miss your mark and she decides to go check out this shop in Morthal for herself. When she gets there Vile will reluctantly let her take over the store, but if Ysolda repents she will one day become a Priestess of Zenithar, and convert the shop into a fledgling temple.

Just Deserts

When you return to the general store in Morthal it will have transformed into an abandoned ruin.

Any outcome of options one or two will please Vile, he will award you his Masque which will be light or heavy armoured dependant on which skill is higher for you and it will have a powerful speechcraft, personality and price discount enchantment. You also have the opportunity later on to take over and run the shop yourself.

If Ysolda comes to Morthal to take over the store, Vile will be annoyed at you and Barbas for being boring, but will accept that the wish is technically granted and Ysolda, now his devotee, will be spending her afterlife in his realm. You get the Masque but she gets the store ( unless you marry her...)

If you break your deal and save Ysolda, you get a curse; permanent debuffs to speechcraft, personality and prices. The cost of being a hero is high, especially when it comes to the Daedra. (Maybe Ysolda can lift the curse once her temple is up and running, but that will be a while).

[trans-axolotl]

Image description: [Screenshots of pages from Brilliant Imperfection by Eli Clare. Text reads:

Your Suicide Haunts me.

Bear, it’s been over a decade since you killed yourself, and still I want to howl. I feel anguish and rage rattling down at the bottom of my lungs, pressing against my rib cage. If ever my howling erupts, I will take it to schoolyards and churches, classrooms and prisons, homes where physical and sexual violence lurk as common as mealtime. I know many of us need to wail. Together we could shatter windows, bring bullies and perpetrators to their knees, stop shame in its tracks.

Once a week, maybe once a month, I learn of another suicide. They’re friends of friends, writers and dancers who have bolstered me, activists I’ve sat in meetings with, kids from the high school down the road, coworkers and acquaintances, news stories and Facebook posts. They’re queer, trans, disabled, chronically ill, youth, people of color, poor, survivors of abuse and violence, homeless. They’re too many to count.

Bear, will you call their names with me? It’s become a queer ritual, this calling of the names—all those dead of AIDS and breast cancer, car accidents and suicide, hate violence and shame, overdoses and hearts that just stop beating. The names always begin wave upon wave, names filling conference halls, church basements, city parks. Voices call one after another, overlapping, clustering, then coming apart, a great flock of songbirds, gathering to fly south, wheeling and diving—this cloud of remembrance. Then quiet. I think we’re done, only to have another voice call, then two, then twenty. We fill the air for thirty minutes, an hour, a great flock of names. Tonight, will you sit with me? Because, Bear, I can’t sleep.

I remember your smile, your kindness, your compassionate and fierce politics. I remember our long e-mail conversations about being disabled and trans. I remember a brilliant speech you gave at True Spirit, a trans gathering in Washington, DC. I remember you telling me about how you’d disappear for months at a time when your life became grim, how you’d do anything not to go to a psych hospital again. I remember your handsome Black queer trans disabled working-class self. And then, you were gone.

The details of your death haunt me. You had checked yourself in. You were on suicide watch. I imagine your desperation and suffering. I know racism, transphobia, classism colluded. The nurses and aides didn’t follow their own protocols, not bothering to check on you every fifteen minutes. You were alive and sleeping at 5:00 a.m. and dead at 7:00 a.m.; at least that’s what their records say. Did despair clog your throat, panic coil in your intestines? In those last moments, what lingered on your tongue? I know about your death as fleetingly as your life.

Bear, I’d do almost anything to have you alive here and now, anything to stave off your death. But what did you need then? Drugs that worked? A shrink who listened and was willing to negotiate the terms of your confinement with you? A stronger support system? An end to shame and secrecy? As suffering and injustice twisted together through your body-mind, what did you need?

I could almost embrace cure without ambivalence if it would have sustained your life. But what do I know? Maybe your demons, the roller coaster of your emotional and spiritual self, were so much part of you that cure would have made no sense. You wrote not long before your death, “In a world that separates gender, I have found the ability to balance the blending of supposed opposites. In a world that demonizes non-conformity, I have found the purest spiritual expression in celebrating my otherness.”

Yes, Bear. I know that truth. Your otherness was a beautiful braid— your hard-earned trans manhood looping into your Black self, wrapped in working-class smarts and resilience, woven into disability, threaded with queerness. I saw you last in an elevator at True Spirit. You told me that you were spending the weekend hanging out with trans men of color. I can still see your gleeful smile, sparkling eyes.

Friend, what would have made your life possible with all its aches and sorrows? I ask as someone who has gripped the sheer cliff face of suicide more than once. Calling the names exhausts me. Your death exhausts me. The threat, reality, fact of suicide exhausts me. Its arrival on the back of shame and isolation exhausts me. Bear, will you come sit beside me tonight? I’m too exhausted to sleep.]

From Brilliant Imperfection: Grappling with Cure by Eli Clare, pages 63-64.

This passage has stuck with me since I first read it and I find myself returning over and over, especially in the times I want to be gentle to my grief.

Thought I'd share it with you all right now <3

[spaceandbones]

OH OH and 💖 for gothfox pleasseeeee

💖- A chilvarous kiss to the back of their partners hand

YOU ARE SICK FOR THIS !!!!!! sick!!!!! Set post-tpof with 49 year old human trafficker Ren and vampire Reymas

Ren should not have let her rope him into this.

It's not that he's a stranger to crowds, or formal events for that matter, and he's done quite a bit of this shtick in the past decade- enough to know how to act and how to charm the old rich fucks all dressed to the nines that are always the mass majority at these things. Its just that he fucking hates it.

He can practically hear Reymas in his head when he thinks it- you're an old fuck dressed to the nines. He makes a point not to linger on how easy it is to conjure her voice in his head.

She insisted on picking him up. At the time, he was too flustered and irritated to bother arguing, but now that he's standing in his porch in a black-tie suit, he feels like a fucking teenage girl awaiting her prom date. He has no idea what she drives, and is already working himself up for the wash of embarrassment when she has to hand the keys for whatever beater she is inevitably going to pull up in to the valet.

It's a mixture of feelings when she smoothly rolls up to the curb outside of his house and gives one polite honk to address her arrival. She refuses to exchange phone numbers with him, which he thinks is ridiculous- they spent five years so far up each other's ass they may as well have been conjoined twins, and now she wants to act like distant strangers-

The point is he gets no text from her stating she's arrived, just the honk. When he peeks out the window, the car is also shockingly not a beater from a scrapyard.

It's a Volvo, something new but clearly not brand new. All black, completely spotless, and it looks like a hybrid, based on how quiet the engine is.

He can feel her eyes on him the second he opens the door, tracking every step he takes down the driveway that he's cursing himself for making so long. Nobody should be able to have him feeling so awkward and jittery, least of all her, but he finds himself pausing with a hand on the passenger side door, trying to swallow his anxiety.

The atmosphere in the interior of the vehicle immediately hits him like a wall. It's warm inside, the heat blowing softly, and all he can smell is her. Licorice, blood, cherries, and a slight hint of tabacco. He wonders if she's taken up smoking again. If she ever stopped. There isn't much reason not to, given she can't get cancer.

"At least you look nice," is her first utterance to him, done so under her breath and looking straight ahead.

He Almost replies with something similar, but catches it on time. "Remind me again why you're dragging me out to this."

She puts the car in drive and pulls down the street smoothly, though a little fast given they're in a suburban neighhorhood. Its bizarre to see her driving- she didn't have a license last time he really knew her.

She lolls her head to the side with a flashy grin, "Don't act a stranger to black-tie charity galas, I know you're a frequent flier."

He nods, "Yes, but you aren't."

She sucks her lower lip between her teeth and releases it with a pop. She looks nice, he has to admit that. Dangerous, not at all like someone who would be attending a charity gala, but nice all the same. He doesn't know how she's planning to hide the teeth from the other attendees, but he also isn't very worried about it. She can handle herself. She's made that very clear.

"There's someone here I've been trying to get my hands on for months. His security is really tight, and he rarely leaves his estate."

Ren groans and leans back into the seat, "This is a murder," he says with a flip of his hands, "You fucking idiot."

She gives another catty smile, "Did you think it was for fun? I don't think I'll recognize the guy in a crowd, but you will. Hence, your entire prescense tonight."

He turns to face her, briefly taken aback by how alive she looks for someone who is technically dead, "You brought me to a charity fundraiser where I will know people in attendance?" He looks at her in open shock for a second, expecting an explanation, but when he gets none he shakes his head in disbelief, "You are a demented cunt, Reymas."

She isn't shaken by his insult in the slightest. It's a little unnerving, if he's honest with himself. She's just so- so poised. So together. He's never seen her like this before, but then again- most of his visual memory of Reymas is either from them as fucking kids, or her covered in blood, lashes wet, face twisted in pain or desperation or hatred. So rarely has he seen her.... calm.

Her dress is all black, matching her hair, and the straps are a respectable width, but the cut is slightly too low to be formally acceptable. It looks long, and he only hopes she's wearing appropriate footwear, though he can't imagine how she'd drive in heels. She's wearing minimal jewelry, just some modest but expensive looking gold pieces here and there. The makeup is slightly outlandish- her eyes too dark, her lips too red, but anything else with this look would have been out of place.

They pull up to the venue auspiciously late, which is only proper. Ren really did not want to be a pre-placed fixture by the time the big dogs started strolling in. At least this way everyone he may know will be caught up in their own conversations by now, hopefully a few drinks deep and entirely unable to recognize him.

Reymas leaves the car idling, and reaches over to rifle through the center console for a hand-bag. Ren takes the opportunity to begin the process of making her regret inviting him, so he gets out of the car and wraps around the front of it. When he swings the drivers side door open for her, he's met with a deep scowl etched into her features.

She says nothing, because what is there to say? Don't show me the bare minimum of chivalry expected at an event I invited you to?

She swings her legs out and to his disgust, her bare feet touch down on the asphalt. A second later a pair of heels click down beside them, and when she has them on she stands and tries to take the door from him, clearly intending to rob him of the baseline satisfaction of closing it for her.

He gives her a thin smile, and tightens his fingers over the top of the door. She pauses for a second, and then abandons the pursuit entirely, clearly not wanting to fight with him over something so small in such an open, public place.

She hands the keys off to the valet, and they're direct towards the sprawling estate the chairty event is being hosted within. On the climb up the ridiculously lavish marble steps, Ren leans in close.

"Do you even know what charity this gala is for?" His voice comes out in a low hiss.

Reymas looks momentarily perplexed, like the thought had never occured to her before now, "No," she admits, "Kids with cancer probably. Does it matter?"

He straightens up again, "No. How did you get invites to something like this?"

The tops of her cheeks color slightly, and she waits a suspiciously long time before answering him. "You really weren't careful about hiding your psudeonyms from me," she says slowly, "the first one I submitted the request for worked, and they all come with a plus one."

As if to prove it, she hands him the tickets. Sure enough, a name tied to most of his legal, above-board dealings is looking right back at him, along with another fake name for her. This is unbearably stupid. She's lucky she picked an alias that actually works for this sort of thing, one he's used in this situation before. He's lucky she didn't just try his actual fucking name.

Their tickets scan without preamble. He's shocked when the security asks for photo ID and Reymas manages to procure one that is startlingly authentic-looking, and has the same name as her ticket does.

The inside opens to a massive, dimly lit foyer with candles as the main light source. It's comfortably warm inside, which is probably on account of the bodies milling about. All old. All very rich. There's some new money floating around, too, but it's very clear what sort of society they've entered here. He casts a worried glance at Reymas, because he can't picture her knowing how to act around these people.

Not that they're dangerous insofar as someone slipping up when it comes to manners or social niceties, and even if they were, Reymas isn't really in danger from any normal human people. Ren just happens to know the sort of people that swim in these lakes because he deals with them every day. People don't come cheap. It shouldn't be a surprise that the only ones wealthy enough to make invididual, high-tier purchases within the human trafficking world are the same assholes in front of him drinking champagne.

It's got him on edge. Even if he were to be recognized, nobody would ever in a thousand years say anything about it. He's usually careful - they've never seen his full face, the only name they have to go by is Fox. People like this don't usually have a vested interest in fucking with the hornets nest, so he's never had any trouble in terms of being tracked down, but this may be seen as him doing just that.

It would be like if a normal corporate Joe's plug showed up at his office on a Monday morning at nine o'clock. Nobody is going to take kindly to figuring out the man who auctioned them off a sex slave last month is now attending the same gala as them.

"Well," Ren starts, taking her elbow and guiding her towards the refreshments table, "what now, genius?"

She side-eyes him and picks up a glass of bubbly rosè. He knows she can't drink anything that isn't blood without it tasting like ash on her tongue, but to her merit she takes a sip without making a face.

"Now, we act normal for a little while until you spot the guy," she hands him her phone subtly, and he takes a look down to see the name of someone very familiar.

"Jeez," he says, voice dripping with venom, "you should have told me you were planning on cutting my flow of income off at the knees. I would have jumped for joy at the chance to aid and abet-"

"We talked about this," Reymas hisses, showing two pointed canines, "you have more than enough to live comfortably, there is no reason to continue selling-"

He can't slap a hand over her mouth here, so he silences her with a particularly urgent look. "Not here," he stresses, voice stern, "Fuck. Anywhere but here."

He lets her finish the rosè, and beckons her to follow him before she can argue. Act normal, she says? Fine. He can act normal.

He brings them out to the middle of the dance floor, where people- mostly elderly- are twirling around in relatively synchronized movements. Can she dance? He has no idea.

He holds his hand out to her, and she has the good graces to look slightly abashed. "What-"

"We're dancing, Reymas," he says innocently, with a not-so-innocent smile, showing his own teeth, "isn't that what people usually do at a these things?"

She takes his hand, and she can't appear very icy about it, either, otherwise it would draw looks. He steps closer, and keeps eye contact as he brings her hand to his mouth, skin ghastly cold against his, and presses a kiss to the back of her hand.

The look of devastation in her eyes is enough to keep him going all night, regardless of the impending bloodshed.

[sburbian-sage]

You know, you get all these people who talk about the funny and silly things they do in their sessions and the weird things they find but

I feel like you dont get enough people that talk about how utterly horrifying it is to live like this

To be eternally stuck in a body thats never yours and be forced through death over and over and over

I should be turning 65 this year or at least close, copious amounts of time travel make it impossible to keep accurate track. Ive gone through dozens and dozens of sessions, learned things, forgotten most, ive loved and lived and died, and fought and fought and fought because in sburb you can never stop fighting not even for a moment

Ive turned entire sessions into fragmented code and ripped open holes into the deepest of voids and me and my coplayers jump in every time, new friends, new beings, new lives

Ive waded through the gene code slop of cancerous frogs and come out the other side more construct and grist than flesh only to wake up eternally 13

Ive killed at least a dozen coplayers, either because they were pkers or for the safety of my other coplayers

Ive been transitioning in every session for nearly 30 years only to finish the game and wake up 13 in the wrong body over and over

Sburb is hell, or as close as we can get

But its also so, so, beautiful

Watching skaia break the horizon on prospit and sink below on derse, hundreds of lands never cease to be beautiful in their own ways, fog on broken buildings and mist in endless pines, oceans of anything imaginable sloshing on candy cane beaches and sand made of broken screens

The birth of a Genesis Frog is continuously one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen, the sheer majesty of a being that contains a universe, of such internal scale that it boggles the mind

Sburb is so many many things but above all it is a game of creation and survival, its a world drunk on its own pure space, pure volume. Where the laws of physics don't exist and space is a suggestion and time less than a guidebook, its imagination in its purest most distilled form

Its my home, and the only thing ive ever known

I was originally going to be really mean and point out that "nobody talks about how badly SBURB sucks" because everyone already knows it. Every bad thing you described, 20 people are experiencing *right now*, in this very moment. It's kind of like walking into the Room Full of Spikes That Stab You In The Eyes, seeing that everyone is telling stories to take their mind off of things, and then asking why they don't acknowledge how painful the spikes are. But this kind of turned into a sappy vent post. Which I also don't like, but I'll allow it this one time.

Sorry to hear about the transitioning thing, by the way. I'm fairly certain that SBURB should be scanning your brain and generating Dream Self and God Tier bodies congruent with whatever's in there. Either this is a very bad and persistent bug you've kept running into, or you're genderquirked in a different way. Every time I've seen discussions on this topic, it's always centered binary trans people. Maybe the nonbinaries are better at dealing with it, or turned into oysters and can't type or something.

I am glad to hear about everything else though. Fight on!

[stefanmikaleson1864]

Perfect Team

Requested by a lovely Anon ! ! I really hope you like it !!!

awesome! i love jubal sm! my favourite episode is the one where tyler gets taken hostage trying to go ask his friend to surrender and when talking him down isnt working jubal runs at the shooter in attempt to save his son, if you could write something where the reader is one of the agents outside the bookstore when it happens and instantly panics because, well, shes married to jubal and ty is her stepson, and then its just a nice ending when she runs in and sees they are both okay 

A/N: I hope you all love this and I miss seeing Jubal on my screen so much. If you like my work please comment like and reblog it means a lot to see interactions on my work :)

Y/N’s POV 

Everyone was on panic mode and rushing out the JOC today. There was a suspected school shooting. Everyone was working over time to figure out where it was and when so we could stop it. Hopefully before anything bad happened. 

You all were scanning everything you could. Going through all the social media of kids in the area. Tracking the searches of guns or anything that could help you. In your search something caught you eye. 

It was Hilltop prep. The school that Tyler your stepson attended. You decided to dig deeper in. You didn’t want to tell Jubal right away because you didn’t want to worry him. So you scanned all the kids social media. Was anyone there having trouble at school ? 

Was there any red flags that stuck out the most to you. You got a hit when a kid named Jack and some text between him and Tyler. You decided it was best to step away and look at this information in private. 

You weren’t keeping this from anyone but you also didn’t know what it was and didn’t wanna worry Jubal or put Tyler’s business out there. 

So you took your laptop that you had in your bag. Jubal was working on his desk and he looked over at you when he heard you get up. 

“Everything good” He asked looking at you with a worried face. 

“All good I just gotta ask cyber crimes about something” You lied. 

Jubal seemed to buy it and just shrugged you off and went back to doing what ever he was doing. Which you were grateful for. You knew the second he found out he would have went full overprotective dad mode. 

Which wasn’t a bad thing it was just hard when things meant to be private are being brought into the work place. 

You walked back to your personal desk you had in the back and sat down. When you got re situated you pulled back open your stuff and looked through the messages. Alot of them were about how both boys were struggling. Tyler struggled to make friends because of his cancer. 

Kids were cruel and he had to miss a lot for his treatments. Jack was also another loner without many friends. The two of them talked about normal boy things in the beginning but then things took a turn. 

Jack talked about wanting revenge on the kids who picked on him. Tyler kept trying to talk him down but you knew he was over his head. You could even read in the messages that he wasn’t sure on what exactly to do. 

You knew it was time to loop in Jubal but you struggled on how to approach the matter. But it was so much more than just this. Kids' lives were literally hanging in the balance. 

So you took everything you had and sent to him on his work email. Then you grabbed your computer and headed back into the JOC. By the time you got there Jubal had already been reading them and coming to find you. 

You meant halfway there when he rushed up to you. 

“What the hell is this” He asked 

“Come on not here” you said. 

“Yeah” was all he breathed out. 

He followed down the hallway into a private room. Where he shut the door behind him. He had worry and concern written all over his face. 

“Hey what’s going on” He asked in a softer tone. 

“I was going through kids social all schools. I ran into a kid named Jack who went to Ty’s school. I dug further and found that stuff I sent you” You said. 

Jubal took his hand and started rubbing the back of head something he did when was nervous. 

“Yeah uh who else knows” Jubal asked you could hear the worry in his voice and broke his heart. 

“No one i came straight to you” You said. 

You placed grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze trying to comfort him. 

He softened a little under your touch. 

“Call Ty and see where he’s at I’ll update the JOC where shut down the school and find Jack” You said. 

“Okay yeah yeah sounds good it’s a plan” Jubal said. 

“Hey it’s gonna be okay I promise” You said. 

“I love you” You said to him. 

“I love you” He said he squeezed your hand tight. 

He opened the door and you both walked out and Jubal went straight down to his car and you walked back to the JOC and filled the team in.

Isobel and everyone looked up at you when you walked back in. 

“Everyone hey listen i got something I need to share” 

You hooked up your laptop and put everything on the big screen so everyone could see. 

“I think I know where the next attack is coming from. Hilltop Prep by a kid named Jack he is a loner kid who wants to take revenge out” You said. 

“Wait isn't that Tyler’s school” Isobel asked. 

“Yeah I told Jubal  about it and there is something else” You said. 

“Jack and Tyler are friends but it looks like Tyler is trying to talk Jack out of it but is way 

in over his head right now” You said 

“Yeah for sure where are they now” Isobel asked. 

“Right now it looks like Tyler is on the move and heading towards 15th st” Ian yelled out. 

“Where is Jack right now” Isobel yelled out

“It looks like he’s on 15th not moving” Kelly yelled out .

“Call jubal and let him know where he’s at” Isobel yelled out. 

“I’ll call him on the way I’m on the way over” You yelled out. 

Isobel just nodded at you and you grabbed your stuff and ran out. Your anxiety was high and you were doing everything you could to control it. 

You had so many emotions just running through your head. Was Ty okay ? Was Jubal gonna be okay. 

You didn’t have any kids of your own yet. Your family lived in a different state so when you moved here you were all alone. 

Meeting Jubal and working for the FBI was the best thing that ever happened to you. You finally found a family. 

Jubal’s Kids loved you just as much as he did and you all became super close. So it was hurting you just as much to see Ty going through this. With his cancer and everything else this was way to much for a child or anyone to go through. 

Racing down to the car you pulled out your phone and called Jubal. But of course he wasn’t answering you. 

“Damn it come on” You yelled while people were giving you weird looks. 

You finally made it down to your car and you sped away fast. You tried not to think about the worst case scenario in your head as you broke every single traffic law known to man. 

In record time you made it down to where they were and you saw Jubal just pulling up in front of you. 

Everyone was there you could see the black cars parked to the side not coming out waiting  for the signal to come out. 

You slammed the brakes and got out of the car before it had even come to a full stop. 

“hey “ You yelled over to him.

He turned around and looked at you worry all over his face. 

“Where is he” You asked. 

“Right there” he said 

You turned your head and he was walking around the corner towards Jack. Jubal started walking over but you pulled on him back. 

“Hey wait a minute they could just be talking and if Jack see’s you he might loose control and get spooked” You said. 

Jubal looked at you and it was hard to read his face and know what was wrong. 

“You want me to stay back no way” He said. 

You were cursing in your head because you didn’t want this situation to go from bad to worse. Which to your worse fear was happening right in front of you. 

When Jubal got closer Jack could see him coming and grabbed a hold of Ty. He pulled out a gun and put it on him 

“Hey hey don’t do that put it down” Jubal yelled out.

“Stay away” Jack yelled.

You could feel your anxiety was at all time high and you felt like you couldn’t breath. You watched in horror as Jack pulled Ty into the store behind him. 

Jubal had run over and was able to get in the store. 

OA and NIna along with Scola and Tiff ran out of the cars and you werre right with them. You all were standing in the middle of the street talking about next steps. 

“We need to breech it get in there” OA said 

“No we can’t it’s to risk if Jack gets even more spooked or feels trapped then what he’s dangerous” You said 

“Yeah but we go in through the back then we can take him by surprise” Tiff suggested. 

“No please we have to trust Jubal I know he can get Jack to surrender if it doesn’t get better or were trapped then we will” You pleaded. 

“Fine OA and me will take the back and you all stay at the front if in 10 nothing changes we go in” Nina said. 

“Fine it’s a plan” You said. 

You all got into positions. You were watching the front closely hoping this would come to an end sooner rather than later. 

You couldn’t hear much about what they were saying it was closed off in there. You could feel everything they were though. 

Every second they were in there you were second guessing your decision. Was it the best one ? Should you have breached as soon as you got there. Could Jubal really handle this or was it to personal ? 

A couple of minutes which felt like hours had gone by and you knew what had to be done. You looked at Tiff and nodded at her. 

Her hand reached up to her walkie 

“Its a go guys” Tiff said.

It was like a car crash in that moment. You couldn’t look away your eyes were peeled on the scene. 

Just a few moments later Nina and OA went inside and breached it. Taking Jack from Behind and Letting TY run away. He ran straight into Jubal’s arms. It was such a bittersweet moment. 

You decided to hang back and let them have their space. When they broke apart they walked outside and Ty saw you and ran over to you smiling. He braced you in a hug and squeezing you tight. 

You squeezed him tight and kissing the top of his head. 

“I love you I’m so glad your okay” You said.

“I love you to” Ty said back. 

He let go and Jubal came over and embraced you both in a side hug. 

“I don’t think dad’s gonna be okay though” Tyler said laughing 

“You do know he’s never letting you outside the house again your gonna have to wear ankle monitor to” You said laughing back. 

“He’s got his own task squad now” Tyler said making you both laugh so hard you couldn’t catch your breath. 

“Alright seriously guys this is what were doing now” Jubal said smiling but clearly getting a little annoyed. 

“Oh come on we love you” You said pulling him and Ty into a big hug. Jubal wrapped his arms around you both. When you pulled out you grabbed his face and kissed his cheek. 

“All seriousness though were so glad your okay don’t ever scare us like that again” You said. 

“I won’t I promise I thought I was doing the right thing” Ty said 

“You absolutely did but next time just tell us and let us handle the big stuff” Jubal said. 

“Yeah I guess so” Ty said. 

“ I know what we can do let’s go get abigail and then we can go for pizza and then what ever you want after you pick” You said .

“I can pick anything” Ty asked 

“Yeah i think we can make it happen” You said.

“Awesome i can think of soo much” Tyler exaggerated as he walked away and over to your car.  

“Great who knows what were in for now” Jubal said. 

“I’m regretting everything” You said laughing. 

Jubal looked at you and his face got all serious. 

“Thank you for everything” He said. 

“I really didn’t do anything” You said. 

“You saved my ass and Ty’s had our backs, I love you” He said.

“I love you more and I always will” You said, you took his hand and kissed it making him laugh. 

“Come on let’s get this over with” Jubal said smiling. 

“Oh you love it stop trying to hide it” You said taking his had and walking to the car. 

You all got in and headed out. You were so grateful everyone was okay considering how much of a turn it could have taken. But you were all here and okay and together and that’s all that matters.