#and no there are not still 36 cans that number has already gone down

[moonlights-shadow-warrior]

I wanna see what everyone else says 'cause while I know my answer, I am an outlier

Also uh

They were 1.79

[scullysexual]

She’s already in the water when he climbs in, the cold a welcome relief from the heat of the day and the humidity of night. He sits on the ledge, the water coming up to just above her chest, the perfect height. Scully is submerged, the water sitting just below her chin. She doesn’t seem to mind it, however.

Mulder takes her in. He yearns to see her bathing suit, to see the way it hugs her body, cups her breasts. It’s black, he knows, he can see the thin straps, the way they travel up her shoulders and disappear behind her neck.

Her hair is up. Twisted in that way he oftens sees after she’s had her bath. Freshly washed hair kept away from the chlorine and he knows it’s freshly washed because it’s thicker, brighter. The strands that don’t quite reach or stay in their clips float about in the water around her neck . The night air is still humid and the smaller hairs that frame her face curl around.

And her freckles. She is bare faced tonight, a rarity he sees, and the sunshine today has made them pop. He asked her once why she covered them, her response was to pull a face and say, “Because I already look younger than I am, Mulder. I don’t need to be looking like a child as well.”

He didn’t think she looked like a child, she looked carefree. He wanted to reach out and kiss each one, pull her clothes away and discover the hidden ones, kissing and naming as he goes, drawing the constellations between them.

Looking at her now, he is aching for her and he is achingly hard staring at her.

“It’s nice out here, at least,” she says looking around.

“Yeah, it is,” he says back, not referring to the scenery surrounding them at all.

And maybe he’s looking at her a bit too closely, a bit too lovingly, for she turns back to him, eyes narrowing.

“Do we have something to talk about, Mulder?”

Mulder blinks, swallowing, sitting up a little straighter. “I, um…Do we?”

She is suddenly before him, close enough to touch. He can see more of her now, no longer obscured by the water. His gaze falls down, brain short-circuiting, eyes almost popping out of his head.

Cleavage. Lace criss-crossing over her breasts.

“Mulder?”

There’s a note of desperation in her voice. Mulder begrudgingly pulls his eyes away and looks at her. Suddenly the number 36 hits him like a brick.

36 freckles on her face.

“36!” he yells out.

She looks at him puzzled.

“Sorry,” he apologises, looking away, unsure why he said it.

She’s closer to him now, a knee either of his hips, straddling him. He can smell her body lotion and it makes his brain go fuzzy, blood rushing south as he sits in pure torture.

“Mulder?” she asks again. He looks at her so goddamn close.

Her hands touch his shoulders tentatively and he jumps at her touch, heart hammering. He wants to ask her what she is doing but whatever she’s doing is incredible and he doesn’t want the spell to break.

“What is it, Scully?” he asks instead, his voice sounding hoarse. He resists the urge to touch her, clenching his fists instead under the water.

Her eyes briefly flick down to his lips, her own parting slightly, before they return to his eyes.

“Kiss me.”

His body acts quicker than his brain can respond. In an instant his mouth is crashing down onto hers. The hands that fought so hard not to touch her grip her sides. It’s game over when his fingertips touch the bare skin of her back.

Mulder pulls away and is momentarily distracted by how flustered Scully looks: cheeks slightly pink, lips swollen…He’d be impressed with himself if he wasn’t currently pushing her into to him, desperate to see what his hands are touching.

There was clearly a theme going on with this bathing suit she’s chosen. The back criss-crosses in the same way it does at the front, leading all the way down until it reaches the small of her back.

“Fuck, Scully…” His head falls onto her shoulder. He’s hard. So hard it’s painful.

“I was hoping you’d like it,” she says shyly. “I bought it for you.”

He’s died, he thinks. He’s died and gone to heaven because there’s no way Earthling Scully would say something like that.

He starts to press kisses to her collarbones and the base of her neck.

“I love it,” he says though his speech is slightly muffled against her skin. “You should wear it all the time.”

His erection strains against his shorts and so badly does he want to pull her down and grind himself against her but the water is too deep for her and a drowning Scully would be an inconvenience to him right now.

“Can we get out of the pool please?” he asks.

“God, yes.”

She climbs onto the bench and hoists herself out, sitting on the ledge, legs still dangling in the water. He gets a good full look of her bathing suit out of the water now and briefly closes his eyes, committing it to memory before he climbs out of the water himself.

They go the closest room which happens to be hers, forgo any towels or drying off. He kisses her again, letting, his tongue exploring her mouth while his hands explore her body. She sighs and moans while his hands stroke up and down her back, fingers catching on the lace.

“This isn’t a complicated contraption to take off, is it?” he asks against her lips.

Scully takes his hands, placing them off the back of her neck where the straps are tied in a bow.

“Just pull on that,” she says.

Mulder follows her instructions, yanking on the end and the bow breaks apart, straps separating.

They pull apart so she can take it off. The wet suit clings to her body as she forces it off but Mulder can barely focus on that as more and more new Scully is revealed to him. He’s never came just by looking at a naked body before but he can’t be certain it won’t happen now.

She kicks the offending item away and it sits crumpled on the floor, already soaking the carpet below it. Mulder’s eyes remain on her body until her hands go up into her hair and he snaps them up.

“Let me,” he says reaching out to pull on the clip. Her hair, curly from the shower, tumbles down.

Mulder doesn’t think he’s seen anything more beautiful.

He stands there just staring at her, his jaw hanging open.

She smiles shyly. “Like what you see?” Her hands fall in front of her stomach, fingers nervously fidgeting with each other.

“Fuck yeah…” he answers, eyes still roaming, unsure what to linger on.

“Are you…?” she gestures to his shorts.

Why the fuck is he still wearing his shorts?

“Oh yeah.”

He pulls them off and kicks them away as quickly as he can while she sits on the edge of the bed. Her eyes widen slightly when she catches sight of him and it’s her turn to swallow.

“Mulder, it’s…”

He looks down at his own penis and tries to keep the smug smile away. “I know,” he answers. “It’ll fit, Scully.”

She frowns at him. “I know that. Just…go slow, okay?” She looks down at him again looking almost…fearful.

Mulder approaches the bed, his hands circling her thighs before parting them and kneeling between them.

“Hey,” he says, looking a finger under her chin and lifting her head up. “I’d never hurt you, you know that.” She nods and he presses a kiss to her lips and pulls away. “If you don’t want to do this just tell me.”

He waits for her answer, not moving.

“I want to do this,” she says.

Relief spreads through him because he wants to do this too.

He really wants to do this.

He kisses her once more.

“Then budge up a bit, baby.”

She moves, twisting so she’s laying against the pillows. Mulder hovers above her, her kisses her again, allowing the kiss to grow deeper than the last two. His hands start trailing down her body, venturing towards that place both she and him long to touch. He gets so close, just inches away before he trails his fingers back up the opposite way. She groans into the kiss.

“You’re an ass,”

Mulder chuckles. “You know you love it really, baby.”

“Call me baby one more time and I’ll shoot you.”

“But then I wouldn’t get to do this.” He touches a finger to her slit, slowly drawing downwards. Scully sighs, pressing deeper into the pillows.

“You like that, baby?”

“Yeah…” she sighs.

He gathers her wetness, circling her entrance and pushing a finger, then two, inside. She feels incredible, clenching around his fingers, the little sighs and moans exiting her mouth. He uses his thumb to swirl her clit and she jumps a little at the contact. He grinds into the edge of the mattress hoping to relieve some of the tension when she makes a noise, hips stuttering against his fingers.

“Mulder?” she says, her hand trying find him.

“Yeah?” The hand not currently inside her finds hers.

“I need…” He listens. “Inside…please.”

He moans at her request, fingers fucking her harder.

“Fuck, Scully…”

“I’m so close,” she says, her voice hoarse. “I want to come with you inside me.”

He never ever in a billion years think he would hear her say those words to him. He pulls his fingers out of her and puts them into his mouth, eyes closing momentarily at the taste of her. One day, when they’ve got time, he’s going to spend hours tasting her properly. For now, though, both he, she, and his dick want nothing more than to be inside her.

He lines himself up, is about to push in when suddenly—

“Shit, I don’t have a condom,” he exclaims but Scully shakes her head.

“We don’t need one. Please, Mulder,” he begs and how can he say no to a begging Scully.

He ventures in as gently and as slowly as he can manage, remembering his promise not to hurt her as he pushes it way in, feeling her stretch further than she did around his fingers. She’s tight and hot and wet, smelling of body lotion and chlorine and Scully and it’s that final realisation that he think causes him to black out.

He comes to seconds later to Scully pushing on him.

“Mulder, I really need you to get off me and move.”

“Fuck, shit, yeah,” he says, hoisting himself up, still dizzy. Slowly he starts to move. “I think I blacked out for a second.”

She laughs.

A wonderful, belly laugh which is incredible to hear but he is balls deep inside her and she is laughing.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“Can’t say I’ve never made a guy black out during sex before.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything, baby.”

He starts moving in and out of her, sliding easily each way. He thought she felt incredible around his fingers but he had no idea what he was missing.

“I will get my gun,” she says but her threat is hindered slightly by the sigh that follows it immediately after.

“What’s stopping you?” he asks.

“You feel so fucking good it’d be a shame to kill you.”

It’s his turn to laugh then.

Soon all laughter dies and Mulder feels the familiar jolt.

“Are you close, Scully?” he asks.

“Yeah, just…”

He touches a finger to her clit once more, circling the bud until he feels her clench around him, her hips rising off the bed, and the fluttering of muscles as she comes all around him.

A orgasming Scully becomes his favourite Scully. It sends him over the edge, spilling into her.

He wants to stay like this forever.

Scully on top of him, covering him like a blanket, sleepy, naked, and soft in his arms.

He never wants to leave this room.

There is something on his mind, however. A question. What happens when they do eventually leave this room?

He spirals.

He can’t go on pretending he’s not been inside her, that he hasn’t sat in the front row hearing her moans, felt her coming around him, felt her skin soft and warm as it is, circling the cluster of freckles on her hip and thigh.

He can’t leave this room like none of it happened.

He won’t.

“I suppose it’s time to have that conversation now.”

“What conversation?” she asks. Her own fingers are making their own circles on his chest.

“This. What just happened.”

Scully sits up, albeit sluggishly, sighing and pushing her hair out of her face. Mulder thinks he should stop touching her but taking her hands off her body requires more strength than he has right now.

“Mulder—”

“I can’t act like this didn’t happen, Scully. I won’t.”

Her hands touch his face like it’s the last time she’ll ever touch him and he holds onto her tighter hoping that it isn’t.

It’s not.

“Later,” she lays back down on his chest, adjusts herself more comfortably. “Later, I promise. I just want to stay like this a little longer.”

Later. He can give her later.

@today-in-fic

[xerith-42]

I was wrong

It takes a lot to admit that, even more for me to admit that about MCD, but I was wrong about something in regards to this series. In a previous post I said that the worst episode of MCD was Season 2 Episode 95, because it was the culmination of the absolute failure that was Laurance's character arc. And I wasn't wrong about that, S2E95 is an objectively bad episode and I stand by it being one of the worst. But it's only one of the worst episodes of this series. Probably second or third worst.

The actual worst episode of Minecraft Diaries happens far earlier in it's run time than I anticipated. The actual episode that begins the degrading of every single main character happens within it's first season. The worst episode of Minecraft Diaries is Season 1 Episode 65, Our Fears.

For those of you who haven't watched MCD in a minute, or aren't insane like I am and recognize what happens in an episode from just a number and a thumbnail, this is the episode where Aphmau and Dante get chased into Malachi's abandoned castle and fall victim to his uncontrollable magic. A magic that shows people their greatest fears.

Now the concept of a ghost that forces the audience and the characters to come face to face with the leading characters greatest fears is a fantastic idea. I'm serious this is one of the best concepts for character work in the entire Aphverse. This is great, this can go so many good ways.

Aphmau's fear is pretty weak mostly because it shows her house on fire, nobody hurt, and Malachi comments that she's "Scared of losing the ones you love." My honest reaction to this was "She lost her house in episode 36 and didn't seem to care because her loved ones are safe. You wanna communicate that she's scared of people dying just show Zoey lying on the ground or something smh." It gets the job done, but not very well.

Dante's fear is the only one that's well done because it's an image of Gene about to rip apart the realm barrier in the Nether. This works surprisingly well despite only being one shot because it gets across Dante's connection to Gene and the Nether pretty well, setting up for the reveal later on. Dante's existence is this episode's single redeeming quality. And as much as I like the guy, he's not enough to hold up the episode after what happens next.

Now, dear viewer who presumably knows the plot of MCD because you've read this far into a post about this single episode, you know that at this point in the series Garroth has been found out by his brother and has the looming threat of the entire O'Khasis military on his mind all the damn time. Zane has already hurt members of his village in direct ways, and only didn't do more damage because he was called away for an emergency. Garroth has already failed to protect one lord, and he's nearly failed to protect another.

Laurance is a shadow knight. And even though the lore of shadow knights is still flimsy at this point, we know that they are very prone to killing lords, it's why Laurance renounced his position as head guard of Meteli and refuses to return. But that doesn't mean his desire for blood is gone. It just means it has a new target. Like say, the lord he comes to the castle in search of? That he has explicit romantic feelings for?

Again, this idea of forcing the audience and the characters to face their greatest fears is such a good idea, especially with these three, because they can all be interlinked. Aphmau fears losing her loved ones, Garroth fears failing to protect his people, and Laurance fears that he'll give into bloodlust. Are you picking up what I'm putting down? I don't know if I can make it anymore obvious where the show should have gone from here.

But, no, unfortunately Jesson wrote this series. So what could have been one of the best moments of character work in the entire series, instead became the beginning of the end for our would be love interests. I'm of course referring to how it's revealed that their actual "worst fear" is Aphmau getting with... Another guy. Not even her picking one over the other, just her holding hands with and kissing some guy that Garroth and Laurance DON'T EVEN KNOW!

And despite Laurance saying he's happy as long as he has Aphmau in his life, he starts getting enraged that another guy would have the audacity to kiss her. Even though the scene he's shown seems to be entirely consensual. And in response to this, BOTH OF THEM DECIDE TO TRY AND KILL THIS ILLUSION OF DANTE JUST FOR KISSING THE GIRL THEY LIKE!

AND THIS IS SEEN AS A GOOD THING BY THE SHOW!! Attacking this illusion breaks the barrier around the real Aphmau and Dante, and Garroth and Laurance are never punished for their actions here. Aphmau is barely concerned that her guards, the men she's willing to trust with her life, were willing to kill someone for the crime of kissing her. Hot fucking take, Aphmau maybe shouldn't trust these people after seeing that they're willing to kill a man over the crime of loving her when they want to.

And even hotter take, GARROTH AND LAURANCE WOULDN'T DO THIS! Both men have been shown to be highly protective over Aphmau, which makes sense it's literally their job to keep her safe, but that protective nature shouldn't cross over into actively interfering with her romantic life. They're fucking lucky it was just an illusion, what would have happened if Malachi used mind control? What if he was using Aphmau and Dante's bodies as puppets? What if Garroth and Laurance just killed an amateur guard whose only crime was being forced to kiss the girl they liked?

This is one of those writing decisions that truly baffles me. It was RIGHT THERE, HOW DID YOU MISS, IT (the perfect piece of character work) WAS THREE FEET IN FRONT OF YOU! The answer is that Jesson don't really care about the interesting character work, they care about tropes. They care about the main character being in a love triangle with two guys who equally suck but in different ways. They care about fans getting excited and debating over which ship is better. They care about pushing this love triangle onto viewers regardless of what makes sense for the characters involved because the writers fail to see the nuance of the characters that they fucking wrote the nuance of.

I fucking hate Episode 65. Easily the worst episode of MCD. Any episode after this when Garroth and Laurance act horrendously out of character in service of this love triangle (I'm looking at you episode 77, and episode 90, and season 2 episode 95, and season 2 episode 98), know that it started here. It started with episode 65.

Fuck this episode.

[druidx]

Her Countenance was Light - Chapter 36

CW: None AO3 ; Chapters: 01. 10. 20. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. Tag list (ask for +/-): @aquadestinyswriting, @hannah-heartstrings, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster @mr-orion

Soon enough, they arrive at the correct room and Elo walks in to find Cobbleskater still frantically trying to sort piles of papers. "Did you leave the window open?" she asks. "Did the wind mess everything up?" Cobbleskater startles, looking up with clear embarrassment. As well he might, Elo thinks, because he's usually just so neat and organised and this… "Were there monkeys?" she says – because this is about as far from tidy and organised as the Earth is to Pluto. "Ah, Lieutenant," Cobbleskater clears his throat. "No, there were no monkeys, as such. I… allowed Ms Green to assist me. She and I have, ah, different working styles." He swallows, looking at her with the face of a child who has been caught with their hand in the cookie jar, pages clutched in both hands. Elo takes a breath. "That's fine. We'll get everything organised, and then you can let me know what you need help with." Cobbleskater nods gratefully. "Right, since you two have got this handled, I'm gonna go help Monday with that shakedown," Farren says and beats a hasty retreat. "Well, I never," Cobbleskater huffs. Elo lets out a bark of laughter and reaches for the first stack of papers.

As they set about sorting the pages, Cobbleskater explains, "We started by using the copy machine to blow up the pages of her journals, then noted which book and page number they were from. We then began to review each page and add the Roman characters under each sigil. Only, somewhere along the way, all the pages got a little… higgledy-piggledy. It's much harder to translate when the context gets lost." He sighs and runs a hand through caramel-blond hair. "With the addition that this is not a cypher, as I expected, and there is no clear marker to show when one word ends, there are some pages I'm not convinced are correct." Elo frowns, searching her memories. "No… I suppose it's not. I think, perhaps, we conjured a whole other language." She stares down at the pages in her hands, an itch forming in the back of her mind. She shakes it away – they have more pressing issues. "Why don't I review what you've already got, while you finish sorting the pages?" Cobbleskater nods and hands her a stack of pages. "We think that the vic separated her journals into three sets – one is a personal diary, the second contains notes on her exposé, and the third… Well, we're not exactly sure, but we surmise it's the rough draft of the report she was compiling. These are the start of the exposé notes."

Elo settles back, reading through the pages and taking note of where Cobbleskater or Candy have marked in red pen a translation they're unsure of, and correcting where necessary. As she reads, Elo finds the flowing language returns – like a skill gone rusty, but never quite forgotten – and as she moves onto new pages, abandons translating piecemeal in favour of writing out a summary which is pinned to the respective page. At the top of each page is a date, stretching back a fair few months. Evie's investigation stemmed, it seems, from a trip to an art gallery, where a piece of fine art was up for sale, described as an original by one of the old masters. And certainly, it looked the part but there was something off about the piece. In between attending bake sales and knitting circles for her fluff column, she delved deeper into the mystery – quizzing the gallery curator, searching for the piece's provenance and, once it had been purchased, badgering the new owner to have the paints analysed at a reputable lab. As she dug further, Evie discovered that not only was the painting a fake, but the gallery was now offering for sale another painting by a different old master, just as plausible as the last. After a fruitless hunt for the suspected ring which was creating these forgeries, and nearly giving up to go to the police with what she had, Evie was approached by someone with a tipoff. There's no physical description or explanation of who this person is, only being identified as 'Deciduous'.

Intrigued, Elo searches Evie's personal diary for a corresponding dated entry. She's further astounded when it begins, 'What I record here, no one will ever believe. I hardly believe it myself, but I would swear under oath this is the truth…'. The entry goes on to describe a creature resembling an Eshen who speaks in the tongue of their school days – something that Evie believed she and Elo had created for themselves. The creature reveals to Evie that alongside the fraudulent paintings, someone in high office is smuggling something dangerous into the city. What and who, the creature doesn't know, but gives Evie a tool – the artefact, Elo realises – which will reveal the truth of who, at least. Unlike Elo – who came to live in Toreguard after the unrest caused by Greydown had been quelled – Evie lived through it and lost her mother as their family fled. The fear Evie felt at the Eshen's statement is palpable through her writing, but Elo can read between the lines; were it a normal person conveying the information, Evie would have gone immediately to someone in authority she could trust – her father, perhaps. Maybe Elo herself. But Evie didn't think she would be believed, so she kept it to herself, continuing to investigate with this new tool. Elo sits back, a hollow sensation growing in her chest. If only Evelyn had reached out… "Ma'am? Lieutenant?" Elo blinks. Cobbleskater is looking at her with a worried frown. "Is everything alright, ma'am?" Elo finds herself faced with the same conundrum as Evie. "I. Um. I reached a part where Ev– Our victim was approached by someone who seems to have been a whistleblower. This feels like the part in the story where things take a turn for the worse." Elo sighs. "I could have helped her. If she'd reached out, she might still be alive." Cobbleskater gives her a sympathetic smile. Elo runs a hand over her face. "My apologies. I shouldn't let my personal feelings cloud my perceptions of events." "It's perfectly understandable, ma'am. Maybe we should call it a day here, and you can return home and get some much needed rest." "Thank you for your concern, but I'm alright to continue a little longer." Cobbleskater nods and returns to where he's collating her summaries of the pages back into one pile for ease of reading. Elo turns back to reading the diary – but finds her pen hovering above the paper. Both her police training and sense of honour say that, by all rights, she should faithfully record exactly what Evie has set down. But there is the nagging feeling that doing so would cause her friend to be branded insane, and Elo cannot abide that thought. Rather than make the difficult choice, Elo reads onwards, learning that Evie spent some time hanging around City Hall, peering through the hole at the center of the artefact to find one of the hundred or so councillors who would match the profile of one who might be putting the city in silent danger. Elo frowns, wondering how that works. In her experience, it isn't possible to read from appearance alone who the bad guys are, and nowhere has Evie recorded what she's expected to find. There is a list of all the current councillors; around half have a cross next to their name. "Hey, LT?" Elo jumps as Monday knocks on the door. "Pryderi!" Cobbleskater grins. "Are you here to help?" "'Fraid not, buddy," Mondays says, not sounding at all sorry. "I'm here for our Lieutenant. LT, your–" he clears his throat in a manner that suggests he can't decide if he should be angry or amused "–man from City Hall has arrived." "Right. Yes. Thank you, Monday." Elo stands. "We'll pick this up tomorrow, Cobbleskater." "I can continue from where you've left off–" "I'd rather you collate a timeline of our vic's movements. I'd like you and Breakwood to go back over her steps and see if you can find this informant." Cobbleskater's head twitches in confusion, but he arrests the motion. "Of course, Lieutenant."

Elo and Monday start the walk back to the bullpen in silence filled with the sense of Monday trying to figure out how to word whatever he wants to say. "You have an interesting talent for understatement," he says eventually. Elo flashes a grin. "I seem to recall that 'interesting' was why you moved over to our side of the bullpen in the first place." Monday laughs. "True that." They walk a bit further before he says, "So how's it coming? The translations I mean. You find out anything about the little doohickey the vic had?" "Not much. It was a gift from a whistleblower, but there's no indication yet why it was given." "Hm, that's disappointing. But I'm sure you'll figure it out."

As they approach the bullpen, Elo wonders exactly how badly she's set the cat among the pigeons. "He's waiting in the break room with a coffee and pastry, just as requested," Monday says. "Thank you. If you need me, I'll be at City Hall for the next few hours," Elo says and peels off, heading to where Strucker waits.

She can't quite put her finger on it, but the bullpen feels more industrious as she walks between neatened desks, bereft of dirty crockery and reports waiting to be filed. Rather than the boisterous comments she's used to, the air is filled with hushed voices and busy clacking of typewriters. Elo can't help but huff a little laugh at her colleagues' reactions to having their Commander-in-Chief present, even though as she enters the break room she finds anything but a vision of the gruff General, barking orders. Instead, Stucker is sprawled on the sofa, reading a newspaper with one hand and the other clasping a polystyrene cup of coffee, seemingly oblivious to the effect he's having on the officers outside. With his silvering hair, neat cropped salt-and-pepper beard, and a touch of comfort around his middle, he looks more like a father waiting to give his vagrant daughter a ride someplace. The pastry flakes dusting his casual dun-green suit isn't helping the picture. The only signs of his status as Commander-in-Chief are the insignia on his epaulettes and the strips of colour on his breast that Elo has never quite figured out the significance of. A second low huff of laughter leaves her at the sight of such domesticity, but Elo gathers herself enough to knock on the door. "Hey. Sorry if I kept you waiting long. My team–" Elo thinks she will never get used to saying that. "My team had some updates about the case. We're doing well translating the cypher in E– the victim's notebooks and we've got a bead on the owner of the barge. Things are looking positive." When Strucker looks up, it's with a strange expression for a moment. Then he gives a sharp nod, chugs his coffee with the practice of a man who doesn't know when his next will come, and pockets the half-eaten pastry. "Good to hear. Shall we go?" he asks, gesturing to the door.

–––

Then they are in the car, on the way to City Hall. "So what did you learn from Evie's notes?" Stucker asks. Elo bites her lip, glancing out at the passing shop fronts and then to Stucker. "There was a whistleblower. We haven't finished translating… the victim's notes, but it would be a good bet that this is the person who gave her the tip-off about the barge. Sadly, there's no good description of this person, only a moniker. I've got the boys looking over… the victim's movements. Hopefully, they can find where this informant might have come from." Strucker glances at her, that same strange expression. His voice is quiet, tone accusatory. "She has a name." So that is what that face was for, Elo thinks and takes a deep breath. Equality quietly, Elo says, "Forgive me; but she doesn't. Not yet." She keeps her eyes on the road in front of them, on the traffic of her city, surging like blood in veins. "I can't name her until I've served her with the justice she deserves." Strucker grunts – he doesn't understand. So Elo explains: "It's something my partner taught me early on, to help stay focused and professional while on a case. The dead that come over my desk are all victims of the worst transgression man can take against man. The terms 'corpse' or 'cadaver' are too dehumanising. But using their name can swamp you with emotion, leaving you unable to give them the justice they deserve. So instead, you call them 'victim' to remind yourself of your duty. Only once their justice has been served, in whatever way you can manage, can you return their name. Only once they're at peace, can you think of them once again as a person and mourn as appropriate. To do so before the case is solved may mean not solving it at all, and that cannot be abided." Strucker remains silent, the air in the car tense. When Elo risks a glance towards him, she can see a battle being fought there. She thinks he understands now – might be relating it to his own experiences of loss in combat. But this is his little girl they're talking about. It must hurt him so much to hear how she must be dehumanised, all so her killer can be found. "I'm sorry," Elo says; but only gets a grunt in reply.

Air from traffic in the opposite lane buffets the car like a heartbeat as they sit in their separate bubbles of thoughts. It is only as they cross the bridge to the city center that Strucker speaks. "I do understand," he says. "Of course I do. I know that one must remove one's heart from the equation when one's comrades fall. I know how one must push emotion to the side if one would keep moving forward. But knowing and understanding does not mean I have to like it. I dislike it in myself, I dislike watching it in you, and I dislike that it's against my baby girl." "I'm sorry," she offers again. With a sigh and words laced with a pain that's terrible for Elo to hear, Stucker says, "It's your job."

–––

The tension has eased by the time they pull into Stucker's reserved parking space. Next to his, sits Clayrmantle's Racing Green E-Type Jag. Beyond that is a sight that makes Elo's blood run cold – a dark blue Lincoln Continental with tinted windows. As they get out, Elo swallows away any waver her voice might make before she asks, "Who's Continental is that?" Strucker looks over. "Ah, that's Brauma's. I'm surprised the old boy got it back from the mechanic so fast. He made it sound like it had been totalled." He closes the driver's side door as Elo grips the car roof, breathing hard. "Say what you like about the man," Strucker continues, oblivious, "he has good taste in motor vehicles."

As they walk into the Hall, Elo's head is spinning with the implications of the Exchequer having run her off the road. Stucker, still oblivious, launches into a potted history of the Lincoln division of the Ford Motor Company, the statistics and capabilities of the '64 Continental Saloon, and comparisons to both the year models on either side of it and contemporaries from other companies. By the time they reach the Council floor, Stucker's rhetoric has brought back her equilibrium, and despite wanting to find the nearest phone, she must focus on the task at hand – unruffling feathers. With Strucker's introductions, Elo spends the next hour or so glad-handing various fence-sitting councillors. She gushes about her time in Fangthane, exclaiming her fascination with Icelandic culture and the beauty of their lands. She enthuses about King Storri's honour and nobility, declaring what good company he's been these past few days. Finally, Elo exhorts them not to listen to the naysayers who wouldn't know a good thing if it bit them in the ass, repeating that this alliance brought prosperity before – and it would do again if allowed to be ratified. Elo is deep in discussion with the Councilor for Herberg's Fork, talking through her concerns about increased postal pressures, when Strucker clears his throat. "I'm terribly sorry, Councilor Cordova, but Lady Elowyn and I are late for another meeting." "Oh goodness," Cordova says, as Stucker helps Elo up. "My apologies for having kept you." Elo smiles – though from a glance at the clock, they're half an hour late for Strucker's meeting with the rest of the Triumvirate and King Storri. "It's no problem," she says. "I'll be sure to pass your concerns on to the negotiating team. But please, do think about what I've said, and vote 'aye' when the resolution is tabled." "Of course, your Ladyship. And thank you for taking the time." "My pleasure." The two women shake, and Stucker shepherds her towards the Magister's office.

[7r0773r]

Arabesques by Anton Shammas, translated by Vivian Eden

This was the uncertainty which is an advantage that the dead have over the living—the dead who rise to buffet you when you are indifferent to the twists and turns of the present but are made to realize you are still vulnerable to the caprices of the past. (p. 36)

***

For even after I had looked through the gate that has been left ajar, had seen what was on the other side and had succumbed to the temptation of opening the gate itself, I never imagined that I would find myself, like the heroes of A Thousand and One Nights, confronted by an infinite number of doors, and that every door concealed behind it additional doors. Through the gate of fantasy I had entered into the tunnels and secret places of the past, and in my imagination the partition between what there is and what was hidden had already fallen. And now I find that what I had imagined to have been only a web woven upon the warp of reality with the woof of fantasy was no longer obedient to its maker, that the net of memory that had been cast had caught the fisherman. (pp. 71-72)

***

There was no reason for the blue mood. Apparently, at least.

In Abu Dhabi, where they had gone after finishing their degrees in computer science in Paris, the doctor reassured her, after his diagnosis, that the problem could be easily handled by a surgeon in Paris. The fainting spells became less frequent, and the pain that had swelled within her receded. Their place was taken by the gut knowledge that somewhere in her left fallopian tube a tiny fetus was stuck and would stay there until it was plucked out by the surgeon. Where would it go from there? That was as far as her thoughts took her; beyond them was the silence of the unknown. The silence between sob and sob. It's the sobbing that isn't noted in the medical history of the problem. That's why the doctor in Abu Dhabi didn't take account of it. How can she explain the spell of crying that has come over little Elias, as if the fetus whose fate was sealed in her abdomen wished to transmit to her a secret message in a primal code, traces of which were still in the possession of its brother, stumbling through this earthly life. (p. 89)

***

And as the story grew longer and more intricate, I became more and more aware of the delights of dissembling, the joy granted those who take the liberty to enchant with their imaginary lives. (pp. 137-38)

***

The last memory that passed through Mahmood El-Ibraheem's mind was the memory of his old grandmother telling him and his brothers as they lie down to sleep on a midsummer's night, on the roof of the same house that is now offering him its final mercies, about how the fireflies come from the ends of the earth, even on the stormiest of winter nights, to accompany those who put an end to their own lives on their final journey. As she recited this, she looked straight into the eyes of the youngest of her grandsons, and a shiver snaked down his back and his little hand unconsciously fingered his throat. He hung on to his grandmother's look, like a boy hanging on to the rope that is tied around his waist and is pulling him in regular jerks out of the depths of the cistern. (pp. 189-90)

***

People say telling tales is good for sleep, and I say it’s meant to keep people awake.                                                  —Rabbi Nahman of Bratslav (p. 207)

***

The victors always spare some village at the end to remind themselves of what they have destroyed. (p. 217)

***

His stories were plaited into one another, embracing and parting, twisting and twining in the infinite arabesque of memory. Many of his stories he told again and again, with seemingly minor changes, while other stories were granted only two or three tellings during the whole of his lifetime. All of them, however, flowed around him in a swirling current of illusion that linked beginnings to endings, the inner to the external, the reality to the tale. (pp. 226-27)

[r2d2stay]

1200 for rent, sure, 750 for mortgage, denied

That's pretty egregious right? That would be a pretty cool topic for a post, right? Here's a curatedtumblr thread about it, and here's the original post:

Wait a second, someone said they read the linked article, and only 1700 people qualified under this program, out of 5 million homes in a year. That's nothing!

Ah, but I tricked you.

This is a post about misinformation, misuse of statistics, and general internet best practices.

The top three comments at the moment are all super pessimistic, and in particular, the third, and first response to the second, are actively misinformed.

The 1700 thing is not entirely false! To quote the article:

"Positive rental history (PRH) has been included... since October 30, 2022, and lenders have been required to report PRH since March 25, 2023... Because of this policy change, as of August 31, 2023, 1,727 endorsements that otherwise would have required manual underwriting were accepted through TOTAL."

...There's a problem here, though, beyond the fact that it was only really active for 5 months or so (because why would lenders help you if they weren't forced to).

Why are we comparing 1727 to 5,000,000? Well, that's the number of extra homes bought, out of the number of extra homes, right?

Nah, sorry.

The Actual Statistics:

That's the number of extra homes of first time buyers, with at least 620 credit score, who wouldn't have been approved, who got extra homes.

Which means, we should be looking at those. First time buyers accounted for 32% of buyers (Statista and Opendoor corroborate, direct links updated to 2024, sorry) out of 4.03 million total (National Association of Realtors, also updated). That already cuts us down to 1.28 million.

620 credit score is... basically nothing here; that's less than 2% of current home applications (Ellie Mae), so basically everyone qualified on that.

And here's the big one: Who wouldn't have been approved? It's like, 10% of the rest.

Depending on source, you get somewhere between 86% and 90% general home approval rate, i.e. between 10% and 14% aren't approved. According to NAR again, 77% got financing, and of the remaining, 41% didn't apply, which roughly matches the 14% number.

In addition to that 41% who didn't apply, 12% were due to low credit, 9% insufficient down payment, 7% not enough cash in reserve, and 6% insufficient time in job. 30% were "other", with little bits making up the rest.

Okay, so the low credit people are probably out; you can get loans at 580, so they wouldn't have benefited. If we keep everything else, that leaves 10.8%, or out of 1.28 million, 138,000 people per year.

Note that this isn't accurate. In particular, first time home buyers are more likely to not get approved. But this is an okay approximate.

So we've gone from 5 million to 138,000, a multiplier of 36.

"But that's still like 1% of the people!", I might hear you say.

And this is true! For 2023.

Policy Takes Time Guys

For comparison, the Affordable Care Act recently released data showing that about 12 million people were covered in 2013. But in 10 years, this has expanded to 45 million people. That's going from about 4% of the population, to about 15%!

You might say, significantly fewer people signed up each subsequent year, then, right? You'd be technically correct, but Positive Rental History has every indication that it will do better than the 4x rate, not worse.

First, the ACA was targeted at uninsured people in the US. That's already a target of less than 8% of the population; compare to the 34% that currently rent. It has way more room to expand.

Second, home loans are more of a continuous stream, while covered individuals are more of a population. (This isn't entirely true, as you can think of "homeowners" as a population, but given that we just said less than a third of home buyers are first time, I think this is fine.)

You can think of it this way: When you help someone buy a home, you're assisting in 1 purchase. When you help someone get health insurance, you help them buy many things over time; if they need it once a year, you're assisting in 1 purchase a year. So just as 12 million purchases a year is analogous to 1700 purchases a year, 45 million purchases a year is analogous to 6000 purchases a year.

Third, they didn't even fully implement it until halfway through the year. Obamacare was plagued by the fact that it had a 90 minute crash at the beginning, before it even kicked in - What's not forcing renters to follow this act going to do to the adoption rate? If we account for the 5 months renters were forced to play ball instead of 12, then it's more like 4100 houses a year.

Estimation With Wild Abandon

With all of this, it would not be unreasonable to expect this to go from 4000 houses to 20,000 over 10 years, helping well over 200,000 people buy houses. Not crazy good, but extrapolating linearly over the 30 year lifespan of the generation/mortgage cycle, that's 200k, then 400k, then 600k, for a total of 1.2 million houses.

(I should cite u/nat20sfail here, since while their math is wrong in several places, they did come to 120,000 in 10 years, which is pretty reasonable, and most of my numbers are following/correcting theirs.)

And we can do even better!

Because Knowledge is Power

The WHOLE POINT of the original post was to say people should be shouting this from the hills! Everyone should know that this is a thing that exists!

The reason that nearly 90% of applications are accepted is because people don't know that they can try. Memes about how awful getting a mortgage is, and worse, actual misinformation about it, is actively preventing people from buying homes! Over a quarter of affordable homes were purchased by corporations in Q1 2024. Take some of that back!

Now, should everyone who can pay 1200 rent with a 650 credit score be scrambling to make the $6090 3.5% downpayment on an FHA loan on a $174,000 house, paying roughly $754 for the loan and $371 in taxes and fees? No, obviously not. Not only do situations vary, there are more expenses than that and you should save a much larger emergency fund before going all in on a house.

However, if you do have at least a 620 credit score or are close enough to build it, have an emergency fund, can make either a bigger downpayment or buy a smaller house, are pretty sure you know where you want to live for the rest of your life, and are sick of paying rent? Biden/Harris has actively helped get you qualify for a house and/or lower your mortgage payment. Now you just have to go take advantage of it.

[lindajenni]

oct 2

justification or mea culpa (longer than usual - i apologize)

"but you, brethren, are not in darkness, so that this day should overtake you as a thief." 1 thess 5:4

i know. i can already hear everyone proclaiming, "but of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, but My Father only." matt 24:36 that seems to be the one scripture everyone knows and quotes more than others.

is that to mean we aren't even to be looking? the prophet daniel didn't quit looking. "in the first year of his reign i, daniel, understood by the books the number of the years specified by the word of the Lord through jeremiah the prophet, that He would accomplish seventy years in the desolations of Jerusalem." dan 9:2 he looked and he found his answer; prayer ensued.

some are ready to throw cold water on everything. i said i would be on extra watch until the middle of october and i will. in fact, i am still believing to hear that trumpet this year, and on into the next if we must. all i can say is, "God help the one who is content with their relationship as it stands and are not longing for His return." no one can judge but Jesus and you. have you lost the passion of your first love? perhaps watchers have gone to "defcon one" too often, but if we did it was only because our arousal was peaked. do you think God despises that over the one who has become numbed to the stimulus trying to rouse the sleeper?

the signs are attempting to adjust our vision to the dark; modulating our desire to watch? (like the frog slowly cooking in heated water, desensitized) thank God for those speaking out. it all seemed to fit together so perfectly. it appeared to have been the granddaddy of all watch times. but because it didn't happen we know it was not so perfect for His ways always are. false conclusions are a result of limited human knowledge; this is true both in a physical and a spiritual sense. God is constantly revealing truths sealed for needed times, and Lord, we need them now.

Jesus fulfilled all the spring feasts to the letter, and if the calendar be right, He has obviously not fulfilled the fall feasts as many anticipated. at this point i would even like to address the whole rapture debate. not whether there will be a rapture, in that i am secure, but the pre, mid or post theory. i still see it as being pre-trib, but in honesty i must say i can understand everyone's reasoning.

i see so many watchers now going down rabbit holes and grasping at every straw trying to defend their position; as if to persuade or pressure God. this is so needless as the signs God has given are obvious and shouting their presence. while it may not be the time, the season should be visible to all. the absolute truth is that no one will know until it actually occurs. there just should not be division in the body over this.

when i used to hear people say, "they are so heavenly minded, they are no earthly good," i used to vehemently disagree that it was possible. eyes fixed firmly on Jesus is always a good thing. but has the rapture community become so "enraptured" that their eyes are not on the task before them? i know most continue their working, even more diligently because of the urgency they foresee. it's the ones who have dropped the ball, thinking they have reached the goal line.

because we, like daniel, understood by the books. we know the season is nigh and read the signs, remembering His promise, that day would not take us believers unaware. perhaps my eyes failed to read something properly because my tear filled eyes had to strain, as often happens when reading His word. but i clearly read where He told us to watch.

is "seasonal" watching all He expects or wants from us? i have heard gifted leaders say, "enough with the date setting already." we are not date setting but watch setting, noting extra watchful times. and yes, we continue watching everyday for His coming.

God, in His infinite wisdom, has set moedim - appointed times. the feasts He established are not israel's, but His set times. Jesus came to fulfill all things and fulfill them He will. some say we are not privy to His purpose but His word says, "surely the Lord God does nothing, unless He reveals His secret to His servants the prophets." amos 3:7 i really believe that our rapture will fulfill the perfect typology God has set out in His word. we just need to dig deeper still.

has our watching made us look foolish to others? if so, know that i will gladly be a fool for Christ. the word says the whole message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing. but i am not willing that Christ should look foolish by my actions. if we are misguided in anything, we know the Spirit of truth has come and He will guide us into all truth. Lord, give us eyes to see and ears to hear.

there is a window in my bathroom, and from my sitting chair position i can view the tops of the trees along with some sky. when i see them blowing in the wind, i always think of the scripture: "and it shall be, when you hear the sound of marching in the tops of the mulberry trees, then you shall advance quickly." 2 sam 5:24 in my heart i believe it to be the blessed Holy Spirit doing His might work: convicting an unbeliever, touching a precious one in their need, bringing light into darkness, bringing hope into situations even painful to contemplate.

i then think again how i should spend more time in prayer and intercession. i recall the sweetest of times when i would get on bended knee before my Lord, His holiness becoming so present i would bury my face in the floor, wishing all the while it was the dirt of the earth He had created me from. now days i must roll up to a table and bury my face there in homage to my Creator.

Jesus never gave up on me when i was lost in the darkness, and i will never give up on Him. if my heart knew that the rapture (His calling me home) would be delayed by years, would i prefer Him to take me now? it's a hard call. but do you know the thing i desire above them both? it's close, but i long to fulfill all the purpose He desires of me - to please Him. that is our purpose. we were all set in this unique time of history for a reason. to proclaim "His Story" to a lost and doomed world. we can't all do it in spectacular ways like we often imagine, but if we let our heart melt into His, we will find a simple act of love is fulfilling His purpose.

i long to see the rapture, but i long for Him more still. i suppose that's why no one know the date for sure. would the early believers have been gung-ho if they knew it would two thousand years. but we know the two thousand years (two days) are up. "after two days He will revive us; on the third day He will raise us up, that we may live in His sight." hos 6:2 that's us, friends. we know Jesus was three days and three nights in the grave.

in the last chapter of the last book, Jesus proclaims three times. "I am coming quickly." rev 22:7,12,20 the call goes forth to one and all. "and the Spirit and the bride say, 'come!' and let him who hears say, 'come!' and let him who thirsts come. whoever desires, let him take the water of life freely." rev 22:17

in conclusion, we are not asked to watch, we are commanded to watch. our rapture desire is not escapism from reality but escapism into reality. it is a burning desire to be with the One we love most. even as our bodies and world are decaying, our spirits are exposed to heightened realities of our blessed hope; our ears ever attentive to the summons, come up hither. "and thus we shall always be with the Lord." 1 thes 4:17

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Love Song for a Vampire Pt.10

Pairing(s): Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan, Jacob Black x Bella Swan

Warnings: none

Words: 2543

Summary: Bella goes missing and you help in the search for her.

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21  Part 22  Part 23  Part 24  Part 25  Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33  Part 34  Part 35  Part 36  Part 37  Part 38  Part 39

 The vision had grabbed Alice by the throat just as Bella had left the Cullen house. The tumbling of Bella’s red pickup truck and a pale man with red eyes pulling Bella from the wreckage. She couldn’t see the face though. It was covered with shadows and despite Alice trying to look further to see where Bella had been taken, there was no luck. Frantically and not wasting time, she startled a sullen Edward as she threw open the door to tell him what she had just seen. Not long after, the Cullen siblings hop into their respective cars and speed off; following the route where Bella had taken hundreds of times. They sniffed around the perimeter to no avail. She was gone without a trace. Whoever took her knew that the Cullens would promptly be out searching for her.

Uncertainly, Jasper glances at his mate who fretted about; willing another vision to come but there was nothing else to help them find her.

Edward slams his fists against the already dented hood of the pickup. “Damn!” Black had overtaken the gold that usually tinted his irises. Black and glaring into the trees as if the kidnapper was still there. It had to be Victoria’s doing. Who else?

“Ed. . . we have to tell her father. It’s late and if he tries to contact her. . . he’ll know something bad has happened.”

The last thing they wanted was to involve humans in this Victoria mess. Charlie Swan was an officer though. If he suspected foul-play on Edward’s behalf, he could very well arrest him under the suspicion of his daughter’s disappearance. And he would be partly right. If only he hadn't let Bella leave while emotional and upset.

Reaching into his back pocket, Edward pulls out his phone and searches for Charlie’s number.

With a groan you toss to your side and glare at your phone as it begins to ring again. Fingers curl and snatch it with a type of viciousness reserved for birds of prey. Bleary eyes focus on the tiny screen and the name that was lit up. It was Jared. Weird, really weird. What did he want so early in the morning?

**

Your phone was ringing nonstop as you tried to push yourself further into sleep. Early morning light played peek-a-boo with your blinds. That’s what you got for forgetting to turn your phone off but no one ever actually called you. Kids your age insisted on texting. The only people you called on your phone were your parents and grandparents.

You flip open your phone. “What?”

“About damn time! Get your butt over to Sam’s immediately! We got a problem.”

That was enough to wake you up as you pressed your phone closer to your ear. “What happened?”

“The Vampire Girl is missing.”

Brain still foggy with the residue of sleep, it took you a moment to register who Jared was talking about. Your stomach twists uncomfortably inside of you. “Bella?”

“Yeah! They found her truck early this morning off the side of the road. No sign of her. Jake is going crazy.”

Stumbling out of your bed you tell Jared that you were on your way as you struggle to put on a pair of pants.

The whole pack was already there by the time you arrived. In human form you weren’t quite as fast but you were still able to make it to Sam’s in record time. Inside of Sam’s house Jacob was on his feet in the middle of the living room. “I have to go look for her! Those leeches may not be able to track her down, but I can!”

“We can’t just run into the heat of things. Humans are interfering now. According to Edward, the police are on the search for her. They’re infiltrating the forest in their efforts. Unfortunately until they leave, we have to keep our heads down. It wouldn’t do if they were to see us out in the open. What with the recent string of missing people and murders, there’s too much going on.” Patient as ever with his pack brother, Sam stared down Jacob.

He grimaces in reply and clenches his jaw. “So we just let Bella die then?”

“Who says she’s dead?” Paul points out. “If it was the Cullen’s enemy then she might still be alive.”

“Probably being used as bait.” Adds in Leah with her monotone voice. Of course she wouldn’t care about the welfare of some leech lover. “The battle will be in a few days. Just wait until then.”

That was the exact opposite of what Jacob wanted to hear and he showed it as he vehemently glared at her.

Wanting to diffuse the tension, young Seth pipes up. “The police aren’t even patrolling near our territory yet. Technically they’re still on Cullen terf. We can still look around our side.”

Sam thought differently though as he shakes his head. You forgot a lot how young Sam actually was. He was still a young adult, not even 30 yet. Weary lines are deep under his eyes and you knew being alpha was taking its toll on him. “No, eventually they’ll come to our side when they don’t find anything. Her father is part of the police department. He won’t stop until he finds his daughter. We need to wait until the battle.”

Jacob had had enough. “Well I’m not waiting. I’m going to look for her.”

“Don’t be stupid Jacob. I understand you’re worried about her, but we have to use our heads and not rely on our emotions.” Sam served Jacob with a calm look that made Jacob even more upset. Everyone squirmed; you didn’t go against the alpha. Never. His word was law and by the way Jacob’s body froze, it was clear the wolf in him wanted to obey it’s alpha. “We stay here and let the humans run around until they’re tired.”

That’s when Sam realized you had been standing near the front door. “(y/n). Come here.”

A deep breath to steady your nerves, you carefully make your way beside Jacob and avoid everyone’s penetrative eyes. “Have you heard anything from the Cullens?”

You frown and feel a hint of a blush on your cheeks. “Um. . . No. I don’t really have their phone number. . .”

He nods and sighs. “I know I’m asking a lot from you, but I need you to go to the Cullens. We at least need one wolf representative to keep an eye on things on their side.”

Protests heavy on his tongue, Jacob fired off at Sam for being unfair; making you shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. Like you wanted to. You knew why Sam was assigning you to this. You weren’t hotheaded like Jacob. For the most part you had controlled your emotions perfectly in front of the Cullens. But you also knew that you being there would be a sensitive topic since Bella was missing.

Sam snaps back at Jacob. “Enough Jake. I’ve made my mind up and you need to step down. Now.”

The younger boys nervously glance at one another, even Seth was growing apprehensive of a fight. Taking it upon themselves, Embry and Quil usher a pissed off Jacob outside. After the front door slams shut everyone lets out a collective sigh of relief.

You gulp down the dry lump in your throat. “Sam. . . I don’t think it would be a good idea sending me. Like you said, we shouldn’t use our wolves in front of humans. If I did find something, well, I couldn’t interfere. What good would I be over there?”

“(y/n), residents of Forks are disappearing left to right. All around. If you can scout around town and the Cullen perimeters, we might be able to keep the newborns within our boundaries. We need to keep an eye on the police who are entering dangerous territory.”

There still had to be some kind of patrol. You understood that but still felt helpless.

Helpless.

Always helpless.

Especially as you walk through the woods all the way to the Cullen’s side of town. You stayed clear of any patrolling human cop. They didn’t know the woods quite as well as you did.

Heartbeat thundering in your ears, you approach the front door of the old Victorian house. Alice readily opens the door and greets you with a small smile. “(y/n).”

“H-Hey Alice.” You fiddle around with the belt loops on your pants. “I heard about Bella. . . Sam sent me to see if you guys needed help or anything. . . Also to scout the area.”

She nods and steps aside so that you could enter. He was home. You had smelled him when you were a mile away. Scolding your fluttering heart, you reminded yourself that

Edward’s girlfriend was missing and in trouble. There was no time to deal with your stupid imprinting feelings.

“Edward has been a mess. He feels guilty.” Alice tells you once you are seated on their couch, trying to avoid your reflection that was caught in their large screen tv.

“Why would he feel guilty about it?”

Pressing her lips together, she quickly glances back to the hallway that led up to the stairs. You noticed that her eyes weren’t quite as gold as they normally were. Bright gold was tainted to a dull shade. “Bella broke up with him before she left.”

There had to be a mistake. Certainly Bella would have never broken up with him. They were in love.

A vindictive snarl in your head pointed the finger at you. Accused you that their broken relationship was your fault.

Alice furrows her brow and reaches for your hand. “I’m sorry. It must be a conflicting thing for you.” Her hand was cold against your warm blooded skin. Not in an unpleasant way, but it was nice. Like a soothing cold breeze. She goes on “We picked up a scent of another vampire. It’s not Victoria’s though. I’ve looked into the future as far as I could and I don’t recognize the vampire she’s with. All we’ve been able to deduct is that she’s tied up in a small space. That’s the thing with visions. They don’t show the whole picture.”

That’s right. Alice could see into the future. Crazy to think that you knew someone who could actually do it.

“Good, (y/n)’s here.” Jasper enters the living room, hands in his pockets. To you, he always looked frazzled with messy hair that was oddly perfect. Heavy shadows hang from his lower lid perpetually. “Are you scared of heights?”

For a moment you gawked at him. “Um, not really.”

He nods, liking the answer you gave him. “Follow me.”

Everything about his approach was odd, but Jasper had to be the oddest of the entire Cullen clan. You rolled with it and followed him up the stairs toward the door at the farthest end. The one that reeked of Edward. Your footfalls slow down before altogether stopping a foot behind Jasper. He turns and gives you a soft smile.

“It’s okay.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Hand on the knob, a swift twist opens it and reveals Edward's immaculate room and large bay window that looked over the vast legion of trees that made up the forest. In a close by tree you could make out the large body of Emmett hoping from tree to tree like a spry monkey. The closer you looked, you could see Esme having just pulled herself up onto one of the thick branches. Her horse riding boots dug securely into the bark as she prepared to fling herself to the next rung to get her higher up.

Edward has his back to you and Jasper, both he and Carlisle have their heads outside of the bay window. “Get higher Rosalie. Otherwise they’ll see you.”

Slowly the bobbing of a gold crown emerges. “Shove it, Edward!! We could just wait for them to leave!”

“We can’t take the chance, Rosalie.” Carlisle patiently reminds her. “This is time sensitive.”

Rosalie growls and abruptly makes eye contact with you. Gold against (e/c). You could feel all of her disgust and resentment. The expression she gives you makes the other two turn around.

Carlisle does his best to muster a welcoming smile but it falls short. Warmth floods your cheeks despite you trying your best to stay neutral. It seemed your body had a will of its own now. Your wolf chemistry was desperately reaching out to him no matter the circumstance. The pull was instantaneous and you found yourself angry and bitter about not having any control.

“Sam sent you.” Edward states. Even though he couldn’t read your thoughts anymore he could probably still read Sam’s. You knew Edward was able to hear thoughts that were miles away.

“Yeah. I guess I’m, like, neutral ground for both our sides.” you awkwardly reply, a bit embarrassed by the way your voice came out.

There was a flash of a pained look on Edward’s face, though it was brief. “Like Switzerland. . .”

“Uh, sure. I suppose you could say that.”

Rolling his eyes, Jasper pushes you forward. “We need you for tree patrol.”

“Does that mean I don’t have to?” Rosalie calls out.

Shaking his head, Edward shouts “No, Rose!”

“We need all hands on deck at the moment if we are to cover as much ground as possible.” Jasper explains. “It never hurts having as many people as possible. Plus wolves have an exceptional tracking nose. It surpasses even that of a vampire tracker.”

Hesitantly Edward hands you an oval shaped ring. “Bella was wearing this before she left.”

An engagement ring. The sinking of your stomach was so rapid that it nearly pulled down your heart as well. Gingerly picking up with your thumb and forefinger, you give it a deep inhale. Even in your human form, you vividly smelled Bella as if she was standing beside you. You allow the scent to overcome you so that when you opened your eyes you could practically see the trail. Barely visible like a strand of thread, you struggled to zone in on it as the other scents around you were threatening to cover it up.

“Look, you don’t have to-” he begins but you cut him off.

“No. It’s okay. If we find her then we’ll find who took her. Maybe even find Victoria and ruin her army before they advance. This isn't just about Bella. There are other human lives at risk too. Others have gotten killed because of Victoria.”

Gratitude radiated in his eyes that just made you want to die. Alice must have been wrong. They couldn’t have broken up so easily.

You climb onto the windowsill and adjust yourself before leaping from the safety of the window to the tree across from it. A simple feat. You had been jumping off of the cliff for months with the rest of your pack. Splashing hard into the ocean was the fun of it all. You’re surprised that you stuck the landing as it was the first time that you had jumped onto a tree. Looking ahead of you, you follow Bella’s scent.

-----------------------

TAGLIST: @saltedcoffeescotch​​ , @dangerouslittlefairy​​ , @burn-crash-rqmance​​ , @casedoina​​ , @avadakadabra93​​ , @daryldixonstorm​​ , @blue-aconite​​​ , @xanniestired666​ , @esposadomd​

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Two Sides of The Same Coin - Chapter 36: "Don't Blame Me"

"For you, I would cross the line, I would waste my time, I would lose my mind. They say she's gone too far this time..."

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes

"Oh my God," Sam and Bucky whisper, watching the destruction on the horizon. Even though Bucky's more upset with Sam than he has words for, the two of them watch together as they approach where you'd apparently been taken. They were still miles out, but they could already see the plumes of dark smoke coming from their destination.

Bucky gestures angrily with one hand. “It’s almost like tearing her away from any stability and familiarity she knew wasn’t a good idea,” he shouts over the loud rumble of the engine. 

“What are you yelling at me for? I didn’t do it!” Sam yells back, fighting back the urge to defend himself and tell Bucky all about the hellish investigation he'd endured. Mostly because, it didn't matter- at least not right now. He messed up. He knew you both deserved the truth. And once this was all over, he hoped that he could give that to you. 

“You didn’t even try to fight for her," Bucky pointedly accuses. "She was counting on you and you gave up.”

“I didn’t give up," Sam fumes, scowling at Bucky though he knows he doesn't really have any right to. "They made a decision, there was nothing I could do.”

“Bullshit!”

Sam swallows his retort, knowing that it won't help the situation. He takes a deep breath and watches as they approach the epicenter of destruction- destruction of your own making.

As quickly as humanly possible, they arrive on-site. And it's not good, they don't know anything other than what they can see with their own two eyes, and if the perimeter that stretched over a mile long was any indication- it really wasn't good.

“What happened?” Bucky shouts, running up to the various agents surrounding the closed off perimeter, monitoring the situation.

It was like they'd stepped into a completely different climate. The sky was dark with thick smoke, the wind howling around them making it hard to hear anything, the cracked and seperated ground that periodically rumbled underneath their feet. All the vegetation and greenery that wasn't completely charred was now a sickly grey, completely limp and lifeless.

Bucky knows that somebody had finally pushed you too far. He just knows it.

“I don’t know,” the agent sputters, shrinking under Bucky and Sam's intense glares. “We put her in a debriefing room and she went nuts.”

Bucky's fist clenches tightly, fighting the urge to shake the man in rage. “One of those tiny debriefing rooms? The incredibly small, constricted debrief rooms?”

“Did you even read her file?" Sam shouts. "Severely claustrophobic, you idiot. You’re lucky she didn’t bring the entire city down.”

“Can she do that?”

“Yes,” Bucky and Sam scream in unison, the two of them gesturing to the widespread damage.

“Why didn’t you let her out?” Bucky demands.

“We tried, but the wing was already coming down. We had to get everyone out.”

“And is everyone out?” Sam questions. 

“Everyone except her.”

Bucky doesn't even give Sam a chance to formulate a plan before he takes off, very literally running into the eye of the storm. You may be the one causing this, but you're still only human, you could be trapped, hurt, or any other number of things. You're his priority. 

He runs toward where the building used to stand, shielding his eyes from the ash and small rubble whipping around in the air. As he approaches, he sees the steel framework that still stands barely holding on. It's all about to come down and you're still in there. 

“Doll?” Bucky shouts over the winds screaming against him. There's no answer. "Come on- if you can hear me, just scream, I can get you out."

He runs around the perimeter of where the building used to stand, craning his neck and desperately searching for any sign of you through the remains of the building. "Come on, I need you to talk to me. Just let me help you, please. Let me help you."

"Did you know?" you shout, your voice angrier than Bucky's ever heard. More than he ever thought could come from you. 

Over the winds and general chaos, Bucky can barely pinpoint where your voice is even coming from and his heart stutters as he realizes that you put the pieces together. And this all makes so much more sense. He knew exactly how much it hurt when he found out Sam knew, and the fact that you had to find out from a stranger in the process of getting taken away from everyone- he understands. They'd finally broken you. "Doll-"

"Did you know?" you angrily shout, your breathing ragged as Bucky digs through the rubble to find you. "Don't lie to me."

"No. I didn't, I swear I didn't know." This time you remain silent, he continues speaking trying to coax more words out of you. "Doll, you've got to calm down. We can fix this, but you have to calm down."

"Maybe I don't want to fix it anymore. Maybe there's no point."

"I know you're hurting but that's not true. You have to know that."

"I don't. I don't know anything anymore," you seethe. 

"Well I do," he shouts in desperation. For a moment, he fumbles for the right words to say to help you. He thinks about the many therapists he’d been forced to see and all the bullshit affirmations he spent hours listening to- most of the time, it only made him angrier.

He could tell you that there was a light at the of the tunnel or that it gets better. And while that might be true, he thinks about what he’d want to hear. Sam was right about you two being two sides of the same coin, and he knew that kindred spirit was there, so maybe what he would want to hear is what you need to hear: the truth. "And I know you, you're annoyingly optimistic. Unfailing trust in people. You've got a dark sense of humor, but you don't let a lot of people see that. Your favorite color is yellow, and - and you're my other half. Remember? You and me, we're the same. Except you're better. After all the shit you've gone through, you still manage to see the good in people. You saw it in me. And you have every right to be angry, but this isn't you. Just come back to me. We'll figure it out together."

"I can't," you wail, your voice now sounding more hurt than angry. "I can't, James. He knew. He knew the whole time."

"I know, and I know it hurts, but this doesn't solve the problem."

You stay silent again. Bucky scrambles once again to find you, lifting up steel beams, and large chunks of concrete as he tries to find you. Above him a steel beam groans just as a large chunk breaks. He dives out of the way, tumbling into another pile of rubble. He's back up in an instant. "The building's coming down, we need to get you out."

"Please," he pleads, letting all the vulnerability and desperation flow through his words. Because he is desperate. He remembers that feeling of bitter hopelessness when he almost lost you the first time, he can't do it again. In the year that he'd known you, you'd shown him a bright and hopeful world that brimmed with possibilities. It was golden with more hope on the horizon. And without you, he wasn't sure that he'd recognize the world as it used to be. "I can't lose you."

“No,” you sob, clutching your head as you try to block it all out- try to bring yourself back to a person that you recognize. “You have to get out of here. I can’t - I don’t know how to stop.”

‘I’m not leaving. I trust you."

"No," you cry again. "You shouldn't. I'm everything they thought I'd be."

"Do you remember what Strange said about choices? This is the choice I’m making and I'm not leaving without you. Just let me help you.”

“I don’t know how to stop, James. I can't do this anymore.”

“Don't say that. Just let me help you. Please,” he begs, feeling the sweltering heat continuing to rise around him.

“I don’t know how,” you repeat. Bucky can hear the hurt in your voice and maybe it's just because it's you, but it's like he can feel it too. He can feel the way you're trying to hold on to your anger like it's your only life preserver and you're adrift in a sea of despair. 

“Yes, you can," he says, finally getting closer to your voice. "I know you can.”

"He knew. The whole time he knew. I was always an assignment to him. None of it was real."

And even though he's pissed at Sam for what happened, even though he vehemently disagrees with what Sam did, he defends him, "That's not true. He just wanted to keep you safe. That's what matters to him. He was scared. I know it's not right, but you're like a little sister to him. And he's your annoyingly overbearing, protective brother. He messed up, but all he's ever wanted is to protect you."

And there's just more chaos filled silence. "He threatened me, you know? After we met, he warned me not to flirt with you. And when you were in the hospital, I told him I was in love with you and he threatened me- again. Said that if I didn't spend the rest of my life making you happy, he'd kick my ass. He's an idiot, doll. And he did something so incredibly stupid, and I'll probably kick his ass for it later. But he cares- he cares so much. In his own, stupid, overbearing, idiotic way."

When Sam watches as Bucky takes off into the center of the chaos, he doesn't hesitate to follow. Unfortunately for Sam, he's not a super soldier, he can't lift steel beams and tons of concrete. But he searches for you just the same, through the thick smoke of the fire and the winds that make it just that much worse. And still, he tries to look for you.

He can hear the one sided conversation Bucky's having with you, how despite how furious he was with Sam, he was defending his actions to you.

Only a few minutes into searching, through the heavy smog, Sam sees another SHIELD agent approach. He stumbles toward the unfamiliar man, just close enough to see a vaguely familiar weapon in his hand. It takes Sam a split second to place it: some knockoff of the sonic cannon Tony once used on Wanda. 

He gasps angrily - were they really going to do that to you? The person they touted at their most valuable asset. Their ever-lovely, never-needy crowning jewel. You were always on their side. You'd never done anything against SHIELD, and yet one wrong move and they were ready to take you down without pause.

The agent raises the weapon as soon as he's got Bucky in his sights, waiting for the moment he gets a clear shot at you.

“Drop it,” Sam barks, pointing his gun at the SHIELD agent just as he's about to pull the trigger.

The unfamiliar agent barely freezes, turning to look at Sam with a grimace. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing. Now drop it.”

“She’s a threat. A threat to us all like this. She's lost it.”

“Drop it,” he over enunciates again, his finger just barely grazing the trigger. 

The agent barely spares him a glance as if he knows Sam won't actually do it. "This is only going to get worse. You give her an inch, she'll take a mile."

"You don't know anything about her. And I'm not going to ask you again," he orders, pointing to where he wants the agent to drop the weapon. 

The agent sighs, shaking his head as he lowers the weapon to the uneven terrain. "You're encouraging a superhuman temper tantrum. She could kill everyone in a ten mile radius if you let her."

"Shut the hell up before I pull the trigger."

"-he knew," Sam hears you sob. Though the ground has ceased to rumble, he knows you've yet to gain control over yourself.

He kicks the weapon away from the man, breaking eye contact with the man as he stumbles through the torn concrete and violent flames.

"I'm sorry," Sam shouts, finally making his way to where Bucky stands, your voice coming from a large mound of fallen concrete and heavy steel beams. "I'm sorry I lied. I was just trying to keep you safe. But you are not just an assignment- that's why they took you. We all got too close. We cared more about you than what SHIELD wanted."

"Sam-" Bucky tries to interject, shaking his head to warn him that he's probably the last person you want to talk to right now.

Sam shakes his head, holding up his hand as he continues stepping closer to your voice. "I'm sorry I thought you needed protecting more than you needed the truth. And I'm sorry I kept things from you. I'm sorry. But you have never been just an assignment to me."

And for a moment, Sam's sure that you're not listening. But the air slowly stills, debris literally falls from the air as it all gradually goes quiet. The flames no longer angrily roar but quietly smolder out as it all just stops. And now that it's all quiet, they can hear your ragged breathing begin to even. They listen carefully, following the sound of your breaths. Bucky stumbles over, lifting the large slab of concrete off of you.

The second it's off of you, you scream.

It's different than your previous emotional cries of desperation- it sounds like you're in pain, in agony.

For the shortest mili-second, Sam hears you scream in agony, your hands covering your head as you try to make it stop. He turns to see the same agent as before, directing the weapon right back at you.

This time Sam pulls the trigger without hesitation.

And once again, it's all quiet. Bucky flips the slab of concrete, grabbing your hand and pulling you up. He wraps an arm around you as the three of you survey all the damage that surrounded you. The agent that Sam just shot. The building you just single-handedly brought down.

Sam's lips pull in as he reluctantly nods, "Oh yeah, we're definitely going to be in trouble for this one."

Next Chapter

"Two Sides Of The Same Coin" Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

[literallyshiv]

what r ur main character age hcs 👀! by main i mean your regular hcs

HEEHEE i was already halfway through a draft of this when i got this message get ready for a really long answer. for clarity's sake, all birth years are based on the succesion universe starting in fall 2018 and ending up in summer 2019 at the end of season three

starting with what we know for certain: kendall is 40 (born in spring 1979) and logan is 80 (b. 1938), making logan 40 when kendall was born.

with roman and shiv, i was a youngest sibling roman truther until i found out that the writers actually have shiv as the youngest (and also specifically said in the pilot script that roman is 38 lol), SO, the closest i can get to remedy this making them irish twins, roman age 37 (october 1981) and shiv age 36 (september 1982). they would have been in the same grade of school throughout their childhood.

connor is a little bit harder because of alan ruck's age, and while characters and actors don't have to be the same age, i absolutely cannot see him playing any younger than mid fifties. i like to put a definitive number on things though, so I'll say 55 (b. 1963), so that would make logan 25 when connor was born and i could see logan following the traditional route for when he was raised to marry and start a family early on in life. plus it makes connor about eighteen years older than shiv and roman, which i think works out nicely for him to have gone off to college just as shiv and roman were born and graduate just in time to come back into their lives when they are just old enough to have conscious memories and play a significant part in raising them

where this REALLY gets fun for me is to take ewan and marianne into account, because i think it's very fun to imagine that marianne and connor were close throughout their childhood. so what we know about logan and ewan's youth is that ewan is the older brother, and at some point he enlisted in the military during the vietnam war, according to logan, with the motivation to impress some girl. SO. i think that it easily could check out that ewan saw his younger brother get married and have a child before he did, felt extra motivation to commit to a partner himself, and enlist in the military while he was with the woman who would be marianne's mother.

im making this up wholecloth at this point, but i like the idea of him being with his girlfriend/wife while still serving in the war but occasionally coming home, and she becomes pregnant while he's still active, so she relies a lot on logan's family to help with her responsibilities on top of raising a child while ewan is away. this also provides a really good basis for the rift between logan and ewan because his entire motivation for enlisting in the first place would have been with the end goal of starting his own family, and then he misses out on a significant amount of that because he's on duty while his wife and child are in canada meanwhile logan IS there while ewan's child is growing up. and just for extra pizazz, lets say ewan was still active when logan starts waystar (we know that logan has been ceo of waystar for 50 years, making him 30 when it he started the company) and throw in one more year of active duty for logan to get the business off the ground to really rub salt in the wound.

to sort out the years: 1963 connor is born, 1964 ewan enlists, 1965 ewan gets married and they become pregnant, 1966 marianne is born, 1968 waystar is formally started, and 1969 ewan finishes his time in the military. SO: when ewan returns to canada to stay this time, he missed the first three years of his child growing up, his wife and daughter have spent the majority of the time with logan's family, and on top of it all logan has started a burgeoning business. that'd be a strong basis for ewan to harbor some bitterness for logan i think, even if their actual falling out doesnt occur for several more years, possibly decades, after all of that goes down.

ALRIGHT. MOVING ON. in the pilot script, we get the following ages: greg early 20s, shiv late 20s, tom late 30s. obviously i don't think these are accurate to what the character ended up being, but i do think the age gaps remained relatively the same, with each of them being just under a decade older. i already said i put shiv at 36, and i like to stick with ten years between her and tom, so i have him at 46 turning 47 soon (b. 1972)

with greg i like to imagine he specifically hasn't hit 30 yet mostly because i think it's funny to imagine the ordeal of his actual thirtieth birthday happening. i also already said i have marianne born in 1966 and i imagine she and greg's dad weren't initially together for very long given the whole "he's gay" thing, (timeline-wise it would also check out if his motivation for being with her was the homophobia towards young gay men in the late 80s early 90s), but then she gets pregnant and he feels some commitment to not just abandon her (and, personally, I don't think he ever straight up abandoned her and greg. they probably had a somewhat painful seperation given how greg never mentions him throughout the series but he does mention his mother, but i don't think he was some deadbeat or that he left to 'go to the store' and never came back. again— im entirely making this up lol this is just the version of events that exist in my mind) SO all that said, i think greg turned 28 sometime over the course of the series so far, putting his birthday in late 1990 or early 1991, making marianne 25 when she had him.

AND FINALLY. honorable mention to willa who we have no context for her age whatsoever other than the actress's age. i have her at 31 (b. 1987)— i think she's at the age where she's starting to think about the long term sustainability of escorting for her personally (whether she'll be able to continue making as much money as she does now), which makes the idea of committing to be exclusive with connor much more appealing in spite of the fact that she doesn't seem too excited about the prospect of doing so in season one

[parkersbliss]

Can you write prompt 5 & 36 for Jesper Fahey please?❤

my first jesper request and I love it <3

Kiss Me | J. Fahey

prompts: 005: “That doesn’t make it right!” 036: “You’re so cute.” “Stop trying to distract me from the mess in front of me.”

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

You were running. Honestly, you were always running — for your life. It should be noted that it was never your fault. In fact, you could chalk up about 67% of your near-death experience to a certain Zemeni boy.

One with lanky limbs and a need to flirt with anyone and anything.

Jesper was certainly a character. That boy never failed to bring a smile to your face. Except for when you’re running for your life. Right now, you were beyond pissed at him. He was lucky you hadn’t strangled him yet.

“In my defense,” Jesper panted. “He was talking shit.”

The look you give him is enough to make Jesper shut up.

“That doesn’t make it right!”

“Kaz does it all the time!” Jesper whines.

You roll your eyes. “He doesn’t shoot them and runs!”

“Yes, well, I have to differ from him somehow.”

“By shooting people?”

“If it comes to that, yes!”

“You are so lucky we have bigger issues right now, or I would be choking you.”

Jesper manages to send you a wink. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“You’re terrible.”

“Terribly hot.”

“I don’t think that’s a good thing.”

“I do.”

Jesper turns around, checking the number of people chasing you. He pulls out one of his revolvers, firing a few shots before grabbing your wrist and dragging you into an alley.

“Jesper-”

He shushes you, using his head to point towards the guards running by. You glare at him but keep your mouth shut. Kaz was not going to be happy when you returned back to the slat empty-handed. Jesper would most likely get the worse of it.

“Kaz is going to be pissed, you know,” You mumble.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Jesper blurts.

Your eyes widen. “What?”

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you feel the weight of his gaze on your face. Any bit of anger towards him had just melted away.

“The guards,” He said. “They’re checking the alleys, and when they see two teenagers making out—”

“I thought you said kissing,” You hiss.

Jesper shrugs. “I mean, I’m down for either.”

You slap him on the chest for that, and he yelps. “What was that for?”

“I don’t know! I just wanted to.”

The look on Jesper’s face is priceless, and you hold back a laugh.

“Whatever,” He mutters. “Don’t be surprised when I kiss you because ‘I want to.’”

The sound of the guard's footsteps is heard, as well as yelling as they circle back around.

Jesper looks at you with a raised brow.

“This is a stupid idea,” you said as Jesper grabs your face and kisses you.

Your stomach flips at the action, and you instantly melt into his arms. One of his hands cups your cheek and the other your waist as he pushes you up against the brick wall. The bricks scratch up against your back, but you pay no mind to them with the way he’s kissing you.

One of the guards peers down the alleyway, and you can hear him gag as he shines a flashlight on you two.

“Something there?” Another asked.

“Just two kids that need to get a room,” He shouts back before leaving with a shake of his head.

You were sure they were gone as of a few minutes ago, but Jesper is still on you, and you have no intention of pushing him away.

But he eventually does pull back, breathing heavily. “That was hot.”

Your mind is hazy, and you don’t bother to give him a sarcastic comment, nodding meekly.

Jesper takes notice, and he grins. “Do I take your breath away? Am I just that good?”

By now, you had come to your sense. “Nope, I’m just always shocked at how ugly you are.”

Jesper gasps. “Rude!”

“Honest,” You replied. “Now, let’s go before Kaz has our heads.”

Jesper begrudgingly follows you, wondering if your heart was pounding as much as his. He felt hot all over like your touch had burned into his skin. You were intoxicating to him, even more so than gambling. Now, that was saying something.

He lets you lead the way back to the slat, trying to shake off his desire. It was coursing through his veins like a drug he couldn’t quit. He hopes no one would notice when you got back. He would just need to get past Kaz and his undoubtedly pissed face.

But Kaz really only sends Jesper on missions that aren’t too important since this happens so much.

“You’re late,” Brekker said.

You cough, looking to Jesper, who smiles. “Am I ever on time?”

“No, but I’m going to assume you were unsuccessful?”

“Kaz,” Jesper drawls. “Why ever would you assume such a thing? (Y/N) and I are such hard workers—”

Kaz holds up a hand to silence Jesper. “(Y/N) is. You not so much. Now tell me, what happened?”

...

“Think they came alone?”

“Don’t know, certainly worth a shot. Never seen hair like that.”

“That’s because you can never pull anyone. Let me do the talking.”

“No way, you’ll scare them off.”

“Or charm my way into their bed.”

Jesper bites his lip, watching as the two of them ogle over you. He had been listening to their conversation for the past ten minutes. You were trying to get information from the host. He was almost at his breaking point.

“I’ll go first,” One of them said, standing up from their seat. “I’ll bet twenty kruge they’re—”

Jesper shoots him.

He tucks his revolver away, and everyone is left confused as the man bleeds out. Jesper strolls over to you, grinning like a wicked man. No one could prove anything. He may have screwed over the mission, but it was well worth it.

“You’re so cute,” he said, hand on his revolver beneath his coat.

You push him away, looking to the man on the floor, unimpressed. “Stop trying to distract me from the mess in front of me.”

“It was him!” The other man shouts, and Jesper swears under his breath.

“Don’t you dare take another shot,” You said.

Jesper had already shot him. “Sorry, honey. The guns have a mind of their own.”

“I hope your legs don't because we’re running.”

...

Kaz looks unimpressed with Jesper’s dramatic retelling of what happened.

“Let me guess,” he starts. “You two then ran into an alley and made out?”

You flush, turning away with pursed lips as Jesper laughs nervously.

“How’d you know?”

Kaz raises an eyebrow. “You’re kidding, right? Both of your clothes are wrinkled, your hair is a mess, and you can’t even look each other in the eye.”

“Is it that obvious?” You asked.

“No, I sent Inej to go find you after an hour,” Kaz shrugs, turning on his heels. “If you two ever make out on a heist, I’ll personally cut your tongues off.”

You don’t doubt him, but call out. “I wouldn’t dream of kissing him again.”

“I dream about it,” Jesper said.

And Kaz rolls his eyes, but neither of you sees it.

“Is that really true?” Jesper asked, turning to face you.

“What?”

“That you wouldn’t kiss me again.”

“I don’t know,” You admit, before cracking a smile at his defeated face. “Wanna find out?”

Jesper perks up at that. “I’d love to.”

— END —

🏷 Jesper Taglist: @kaqua @kykymyeon @malfoys-demigod @subjecta13-thefangirl @whymyparentscheckmyphone @oswin05 @bookfrog242 @fae-sedai @o-rion-sta-r @mrs-brekker15 @mcntsee @datrie @sanna2020 @aleksanderwh0r3

[goosedawn]

//Oh gods, welp, here I go [cracks knuckles]

//Tiny farmer Techno Au,,,, prepare for some future lore cjkhcxk

Timestamps from: "I Became the Mayor of Skyblock" by Technoblade

--

(5:39) "I decided to call in an old rival..." - Technoblade

Techno continues on with his life for days on, but finally, he somehow finds his way to society again, seeing that the entire town has been taken over by a tyrant of a mayor. The townspeople called for aid, and from the depths of his cold heart, he decided to help (....what do you mean he only did it so people would buy his potatoes-).

For a bit, he did his work by himself, only getting help from some other living scarecrows (listen, I really like the idea of some scarecrows coming alive [cough] PHIL [cough]), TimeDeo and Jyn (...? Is that how you spell their name?). (Dunno what the process for taking over the mayor would be exactly but,,, chchskdlcx,,,)

But you can only do so much work with... living scarecrows. With a bit of reluctance, he calls for help from SquidKid. And then together they defeat Dante :]

(Also, it's funny to think that the town has a mayor that they've never seen. All they know is that the previous mayor is gone, and the new one is pretty chill. /Lh)

--

(6:31) "Is there any way to do the teleport room without just like.. guessing?" - SquidKid

(6:36) "You are like... little baby, watch this." - Technoblade

-

Being tiny has its perks.

"Wait, what do you mean you can solve this maze in an hour or less?"

Techno turned towards the bigger hybrid, crossing his arms as he nonchalantly stared up at them. SquidKid only gives him a baffled look back, their tentacle-like hair slightly sprung up to further show their confusion.

He knows this only because he's known the man for far longer than they've known him.

He knows more personal information than should be shared, somehow finding the other farmer's parent's numbers along with a few other things. He had jokingly pocketed away the parent's number in the back of his mind, although, he had no real plans of ever using it. Well, maybe he had played with the idea of calling SquidKid's parents to dunk on the fact that a wild borrower had been winning their competition, but he ultimately decided not to for obvious reasons.

He knows the hybrid's schedule like the back of his hand, having to work around it for the better part of an entire year. Using that knowledge, he had sabotaged countless of SquidKid's tools, poking small, unnoticeable holes into their hoses and irrigation systems.

And he knows SquidKid's behavior from how they speak to how they express any sort of emotion. Lies were easily debunked from the small twitch of the corner of their mouth as they suppressed a smile, and anger was easily shown from how their strange hair pieces would spike up.

Yet, he can't help but feel slightly at unease in front of them. He supposes it's only natural, seeing that there's a huge height difference between them. Plus, this was practically the first time they've been closer than two fields of length in between them. Well, disregarding the times he's gone snooping around the bigger farmer's place, but that's neither here nor there.

"Squid, look at me," he raises his hand, gesturing towards himself, "I'm tiny, yes?" the squid hybrid nodded slowly, and he pointed at the stalks of tall fern and crop, "to you, this would basically be a wall you can't get through. For me, though...."

He jumped off his perch, tightly holding his trusty bag and sliding towards the flora before easily disappearing behind the thicket and appearing moments later at eye level, holding the stalk of the crops easily,

"It's easy to go through."

SquidKid makes a quiet 'oh' sound with another nod of their head, looking slightly in awe. The amazed look turns to one of confusion again, though, and he awaited their next question with a raised eyebrow, "but... the maze is big, how are you going to get through it all without tiring?"

Techno grinned, lifting a hand to his mouth and loudly whistling. He doesn't hesitate to slide back to the floor as a blur of white fur bounds towards him.

"Carl!" he exclaims, wrapping his hands around the rabbit's fluffy neck and combing through the fur with his fingers. He backs away to pull out a broken-off piece of a carrot, feeding it to the eager bunny before turning towards the astonished squid hybrid with a grin, "my noble steed," he waves a hand towards the still feeding rabbit.

"You tamed a rabbit," they dumbly point out, having to metaphorically pick up their jaw off of the floor.

"Yup, I did. you can stop gawking now," he huffed, "you're going to catch a bug with your mouth if you keep your mouth wide open."

"...And you named it Carl?"

"What kind of question is that?" he snorts, shaking his head, "yes, I named him Carl, and yes he's going to be the one helping me through the maze. Any other silly questions?"

The man stumbles over their words for a second, and he amusedly watches from below, "I- yeah, yeah, you bozo," they finally settle on saying.

"Alright, cool, I'm going to go find the exit now," he turns away from the hybrid, climbing on the back of the rabbit's back, "see you there."

He doesn't give SquidKid the chance to respond, already setting off through the thicket. And he sure doesn't suppress the grin that crawls up his face as Carl bounds past stalks and stalks of crops.

Having distracted SquidKid enough to get away, the bigger farmer had barely thought to ask how they themselves would traverse the maze.

They must have realized soon enough, though, since not seconds later, he hears a strangled yell of his name along with a loud groan.

--

Pain, it's been too long since I've written something /Lh

--

"(Also, it's funny to think that the town has a mayor that they've never seen. All they know is that the previous mayor is gone, and the new one is pretty chill. /Lh)"

When the townspeople come to greet the new mayor, they come thinking that it's SquidKid who's done everything since it's always been SquidKid going into town and doing the talking- the scarecrows being unable to do so for obvious reasons, and Techno unable to do so without revealing his entire existence.

So when the sheepish farmer calmly explains that he's just a helper of the mayor, they're... rightfully confused. At first, they want to know the real identity of the mayor, but SquidKid wearily tries explaining that said mayor really doesn't want to be revealed. They only conceded when he shakily points to the unknown farmer's territory, most of them getting the message.

Techno is very thankful that SquidKid doesn't take his title and also doesn't reveal his existence.

-

"It would have been so easy for the squid hybrid to just pluck his tiny form from their back pocket and shove the wrathful spotlight onto him.

He wasn't even able to even escape now as he found himself stuck in the hybrid's pocket. The crowd had come quickly after SquidKid had removed the other mayor for him, and he remembered feeling panicked as he stared at the other hybrid. The next thing he knew, he was shoved into their pocket.

He couldn't get out without tumbling to the ground with a splat, and, even worse, the possibility of one of the townspeople pointing him out with gossip-drinking eyes was incredibly high too.

He shakily gulped, greedily taking the air around him as he tried to stay calm. He never liked being near anyone- not even the scarecrows - so the second-hand contact with his past rival was not the finest experience.

"I- uhm," the squid hybrid stumbled over their words, "t-the mayor really would rather not... have the entire town to greet them.."

The crowd hushedly mumbled to each other, and one straggler called out, "well, tell them to come out anyway!"

By the Blood God, he hated this. He shrunk to the bottom of the pocket. This was one of the worst worries for a borrower; he had already been pushing his limit with the scarecrows and SquidKid, but this was another level for him.

"...Uh, well, in that case," he felt SquidKid shift, and a hand brushed over his pocket. He tenses, waiting for the fingers to tug him out and waiting for SquidKid to finally prove that they're not as kind as they look, for them to finally get some semblance of petty revenge.

"You can find them over there." He pauses, confused to as why there's no hand reaching down for him. The words finally dawn on him, and he's both relieved and perplexed to what SquidKid could have meant by that.

But hatever they've done has made the crowd fall unnaturally silent, and so he's at least a little relieved for that too.

The same voice that was brave enough to speak before pipes up, "you mean the ghost farmer?"

....He didn't know that the townspeople had come up with a name for him, but he's suddenly thankful that he's gained enough popularity that people stop and gawk.

"Y...Yes," SquidKid slowly acknowledges the villager, "they were the one orchestrating all of this. I was just helping with the... talking parts," the hybrid is silent for a moment before they burst into a stammering mess,

"And- uh, I-I should take my leave now, b-because I should really h-head back and ch-check up on them," he feels the bigger farmer start to take a few steps back, supposedly away from the crowd, "I'll answer any questions later!"

He has to push against the fabric to keep himself from bouncing around in the pocket as SquidKid starts running. He faintly hears the townspeople shout for the male, but it's muffled through the fabric.

As it starts to seem as if the squid hybrid would never stop running, they finally start to slow down, their breaths coming out labored and airy.

He doesn't speak up for a moment, letting the other regain themselves first. When they finally seem well enough, he speaks up,

"That's the best you can come up with?"

--

chKFCHKDSJFSDF oh my Primes, this is so LONG,,,, I have no idea how to write SquidKid,,,, plus, I had no idea how to like,,, oOGHgds,f,, pain.

Anyways, hope you had fun reading ALL of this cchjxcvxkdsf,,,

AAUBHJDUHFJHBFNDKUFHN WENDYYY /POS

i dont have anything to add this is just fantastic,,,,, DEO AND JIYN AS SCARECROWS AS WELL,,, FBJHDKUHSJHHDV,,,,,, i love that techno gets to have Carl still 🥺🥺🥺 and him leaving squidkid on the other side of the maze??? FHJBDJNJKBF

ALSO 🥺 squid protecting techno and not telling people abt him,,,,, aaajfhkdojfh good,, i also appreciate that everyone in the village just has to be like. "the ghost farmer is mayor????... well this isnt the weirdest thing thats happened to me"

SQUIDKID RUNNING AWAY,,,, "ill answer any questions later" djhshhjhjhbhbfhdjhbe

*holds this gently* aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i adore

[laurie-stark]

Unwanted-Peter Parker

Summary: Y/n Stark gets more than she bargains for when she joins her Pops, Captian America, for the civil war of the century.

Pairings: Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader, Steve Rogers x Daughter!Reader, Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Warnings: swearing, fighting

A/N: Just so you don't get too confused, Y/n is Tony Stark's biological child, however, she was raised by the Avengers and refers to Natasha and Steve as Mama and Pops. Also I wrote this a year ago LOL. Enjoy x

Part Two

New York, 2016

This was bad. Very, very bad. I had seen the secretary come in the compound over the screen of the security monitors. He marched into my home, unannounced and unwelcome, holding himself with purpose. I followed him over the screens, tracking his movements. I watched as he was led through the building, up the elevator and into...the conference room? Oh this was bad. Very, very bad.

I raced as fast as I could. By the time I got the to conference room, the whole group was already sitting in front of the secretary. I saw Wanda first. Her back was to me, but I could see her rigid frame and I knew something was happening. My  father saw me approaching through the glass walls. He shot me a look that said "Don't do it. Don't come in here." I didn't obey.

The secretary stopped speaking abruptly when I walked through the doors. He gave me a quizzical look, did a once over and immediately looked at my father. Surely I don't look that much like Tony.

"Sorry I'm late, no one informed me about this team meeting," I gasped, short of breath from all the running. Of course, this was pushing it. As much as I wanted to be a part of the group, fighting was not my style, so I often got left out of important Avengers activities. I got to live with them, but that was it. Tony rose from his seat. He mumbled an apology to the secretary and gently ushered I out of the room. I would have fought back, but seeing the look on my father's face was enough to shut me up. And I never shut up. The secretary resumed his story. Something about golf and a heart attack.

My dad turned to face me. "Look kid, I get that you want to know what's going on, and you will, but today isn't the day."

"Okay," I said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's okay to be curious," he replied, walking back into the meeting. "Stay upstairs, okay hun?" I nodded and started the trek back up to my room. I shut the door and flopped onto my bed. Out of my long list of pet peeves, this was number one. Sure, I didn't want to fight, but come on family, I should at least get to be in on what's going on! Maybe I could help. I have powers for God sake. I am more than capable of helping the Avengers. But they always saw me as the little girl who needs protection.

"April, pull up security footage of the conference room please," I asked. April, the AI I built, that was modeled after Friday, projected the video surveillance from the ceiling. "Volume up." The group was in the same position as from when I left. The secretary was passing around the room. There was a thick white book being passed around the table.

"The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place," Steve said quietly. "I feel we've done that."

The secretary looked down at him. "Tell me Cap, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?" What? You were so confused. Why did the secretary care where my uncles were? No one answered the secretary's question, so he kept talking. I racked your brain to find the answers on my own. "...this is the middle ground." The secretary pointed at the book, now lying untouched on the table.

"And if we come to a decision you don't like?" Natasha asked.

"The you retire," the secretary responded. With that, he left the room and I scurried back downstairs.

Everyone was in the living room. I sat in the stairwell, again being uninvited to this group discussion. I listened to them fight. I figured out what was going on. The United Nations were being ungrateful little bitches and hated that they didn't have control over my family. So they gave an ultimatum: give in or give up. From the sounds of it, Uncle Rhodes, Vision and two of my four parents were in agreement with the accords. Steve and Sam were against it. Wanda hadn't said a word. Tension was growing high, I could feel it. I heard my father conclude that he won and a thud of the accords being tossed on the coffee table. Someone got up and left. Before I had the chance to act, the door to the stairwell was torn open. Steve pushed through and nearly stepped on me.

"Eavesdropping?" He smiled.

"You kicked me out, what else am I supposed to do?" I retorted. I noticed the tears welling in Steve's eyes. "Pops, what's wrong?"

Steve's glance fluttered to the ground. "Peggy. She, um..." was all he said. All he had to say. I  was smart enough to read between the lines. I stepped forward and hugged Steve. He smiled, grateful that he had me. I knew how much Peggy meant to him. When I was little, he'd always tell me the story about how they met, how they never got that dance. And every time I would make him dance with me. He even took me to visit her once. I was ten and it was Christmas time. Steve told me that he wanted his favorite girl to meet his favorite niece. Now that was all but a memory. I held him tight before telling him to go. It was okay, I could handle the others. He left without a second glance.

Within days the team was scattered. Steve and Sam had gone to Peggy's funeral. Natasha was off to the signing of the Accords in Vienna. And then all hell broke loose when the bombs went off at the signing ceremony. As always, I  were left home. I had no idea what was going on. At first this break in the team was about the Accords, but somehow Steve's old pal Bucky got involved. I didn't know what to think. The next thing I knew, everyone left for Berlin to rescue Steve and Sam from jail, leaving myself, Wanda and Vision at home.

When night fell, I was in my room, sulking as one would say. I was spending my evening flipping through Tumblr. There was a new superhero everyone was talking about. He called himself Spider-Man. New York based, focused on small neighborhood crimes. By YouTube footage alone, it was obvious he was a rookie. Soon enough, though, I accidentally conducted a full fledged search on this guy. He seemed shady. Sure, he's helping old ladies cross the street and all, but he just has a vibe. I couldn't put my finger on it. April broke me out of my research when she told me that there was a security breach in the compound. I pulled up the security camera footage and saw Clint Barton in my living room with Wanda levitating a knife at his nose.

I rushed downstairs. When I got to the living room Vision was holding Clint by the neck. I watched in silence as Wanda used her powers on Vision. She made it look easy. Slowly, Vision sunk to his knees. Wanda pushed further and the floor gave way. Vision was pushed through all seventy-four thousand levels of the compound. Wanda and Clint were about to turn to run out when you revealed yourself.

"Now was that really necessary?" I smirked. "We just had the floors waxed."

"Y/n," Clint warned.

"I'm not sitting on my ass," I said. Clint smirked and nodded. He knew he couldn't stop me anyways.

One car ride, plane flight and van trip later, I was in Germany. As it turns out, Steve wanted Clint and Wanda on his side, along with some ant dude named Scott. Scott was cool. Him and I sat together on the plane ride and watched Die Hard. He was asleep in the van when we pulled over in the airport parking lot. Clint told me to stay in the van. For once, I listened. I heard voices belonging to Steve and Sam. Clint slid open the van doors abruptly, shaking Scott awake. I chuckled to myself as he fangirled over my Pops. A voice over the intercom said something in a language I didn't know. A voice I didn't recognize said that the airport was being evacuated.

"Stark." Sam muttered.

Scott looked puzzled. Clearly he hadn't been filled in either. "Stark?" he asked.

I step out of the van. "Yes?" Steve and Sam look at me with wide eyes. Clint gave Steve a sheepish shrug. Behind their little blue car stood Bucky Barnes. I knew who he was. I learned about him in school. I knew he was some evil super soldier that attacked Natasha and Steve. He looked scary. He looked exactly like the type of guy to hurt my Mama and Pops. I held his glance until Steve spoke up.

"Y/n, what are you doing here?" Steve whisper-shouted. His voice always got quiet when he 'yelled' at me.

"I hitchhiked." I replied, knowing that at this point Steve didn't have the time to argue with me. He shook his head in defeat and took a deep breath.

"Suit up."

The airport was huge. Our group got suited up and started for the runway. I didn't know how Steve knew where to find my dad, but I followed him anyways. Before I could get any closer, Bucky held me back.

"It's, uh, not gonna be safe. You should stay here and keep low," he said. I frowned. I did not come all this way to not fight. But even still, I nodded. Bucky scared me. He and Sam took off in another direction to find the getaway jet. I laughed. This whole thing was ridiculous. My attention turned to the sound of my father and Rhodey flying down from the sky.

"Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in," Tony started. "That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?"

"You're after the wrong guy," Steve replied nonchalantly.

"Your judgement is askew. Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday-"

"And there are five more super soldiers just like him. I can't let the doctor find 'em first Tony. I can't."

"Steve," Natasha approached him slowly. "You know what's about to happen. Do you really wanna punch your way out of this one?"

I took this as my cue. "No, but I will," I said, emerging from my hiding spot. I looked at the faces of your family. My gaze fell on Tony and my smile dropped. He looked angry.

"You brought my daughter into this?" Tony yelled, turning to Steve.

"Technically, I brought myself," I said. "You really think you were gonna leave me out of all the fun?"

Tony pinched his brow. "Y/n, this is serious."

"No it's not," I objected. "No, this got personal the second you thought you were gonna loose Pops to Bucky." No one moved after I said that.

"Alright, I've run out of patience," my father finally spoke. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Underoos!"

Before I had a chance to process, a red and black blur whipped past my head. It landed on top of a nearby van. It was Spider-Man. As in the Spider-Man. He had taken Cap's shield from him. I said nothing. My father could have recruited me, but instead he chose this little neighborhood nobody. That hurt a little. The Spider-thing and my father bantered for a minute. So he's never even been in a real fight before, I thought.

"You've been busy," Steve smirked.

Tony turned back to Steve. "And you've been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint and Y/n, rescuing Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place. I'm trying to keep-" he paused, sighing. "I'm trying to keep to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart."

"You did that when you signed." Steve kept his cool. My father did not.

"Alright, we're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us, now, because it's us! Or squad of J-SOC guys with no compunction of being polite. Come on."

Everyone stood still, waiting. Steve put his web-cuffed hands in the air. Clint shot them free from a mile away. I saw Scott -or a tiny version of him. Spider-Man noticed too, right before Scott grew and kicked him in the face. My dad flew off to retrieve Wanda and Rhodey was ready to take on Cap.

"Hey Mr. Stark, what should I do?" Spider-Man asked. He sounded young.

"What we discussed, keep your distance, web 'em up!" My father barked, as he flew towards Clint and Wanda.

"Okay, copy that," Spider-Man replied. He shot a web at me first. It caught my arm and I got whipped to the ground. I glared at him.

"Really?" I hissed.

"Just following Mr. Stark's orders," He said before swinging off after Bucky. I was left on the ground once everyone dispersed. I tried pulling my hand out of the sticky material that was shot at me, but it was stronger than glue. I was forced to watch the action unfold and wait until Natasha ran past me.

"Mama, a little help here?" I called out to her.

She stopped for a second. "Sorry honey, I really don't want you getting hurt." She ran off and I groaned. No one ever wants me to get hurt. I suppose I should be grateful, but in a moment like this, gratitude is hard to find. I started toying with the web. I wondered if I could break down the molecules. Surely there had to be some sort of H2O compound in it somewhere.

My power surged through me, the current flowing to the hand webbed to the ground. I managed to manipulate the water out, just as I predicted I would. The substance melted off my hands. Gross, I thought. I wiped the remaining web on my pants and got up. The water from the webbing fell to the ground with a splash.

I stood up and examined my surroundings. Natasha was on the ground fighting Scott, who shrunk down and flipped her over her own head. The Black Panther was on the other side of the roof, battling Steve. I didn't move. As much as I wanted to be included, I couldn't bring myself to fight. Not now at least.

The two teams assembled, divided by a line on the pavement. How cinematic. I was on Cap's side. I never meant to fight against my father. If anything, I thought it was funny. I looked out at the team in front of me. They were all lined up, Rhodey, the cat, Tony, Nat, the Spider-brat. Vision hovered above them. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of my neck. I were scared. I wasn't made to fight.

"What do we do Cap?" Sam asked.

"We fight." Steve moved first. We followed in suit. My dad's team mimicked my team's actions and walked closer. We  broke into a jog and then a full out run. This was really about to happen. I hoped that my family would go easy on me. I knew what I was doing. I reassured myself of that. I have done a bunch of training, especially with Wanda. I could move the freaking elements with my mind and manipulate gravity! As if the Spider-Man could beat that. I am Y/n fricking Stark. I can do this.

I put a smile on your face, contrasting everyone else's bitter looks. "I call the spider!" I yelled, just as everyone began the battle. Spider-Man heard me and slowed down just a bit. I cocked an eyebrow. He resumed his pace and ran straight for me. I ran headfirst towards him. He threw out his arm to web me, but I was faster. With a swish of my hands, I changed his gravitational pull and made his feet flip out from under him. He landed on his back with a hard thud. As gently as I could, I morphed the pavement under him to trap his hands. "Careful there, Spider-boy. Don't wanna get stepped on." I walked away. I made it about ten steps before I heard the sound of concrete cracking. I turned around and saw that Spider-Man was breaking free of his restraints. I was shocked. He has super strength. Great. I should have moved out of his way because the second he got one hand free, I was webbed against a truck.

"For the record," he said, getting up in my face. "It's Spider-Man." He swung off into the airport through a glass window. I watched the glass rained onto the ground. Taking a deep breath, I quickly removed myself from the webs. I needed a plan. A strategy. I thought about at the opposing team. Everyone was scattered around the airport. I thought about who would be easiest to fight. But then I realized, the strategy wasn't about how they'd fight, but who. There was no way in hell that my parents or Uncle Rhodey would even think about fighting me. The Black Panther didn't know me, so he was a threat. The worst Vision could do was pick me up and fly away, so he was in thr safe zone. That left the spider. I smiled to myself. Rematch time.

By the time I found Spider-Man, he had already webbed Sam and Bucky to the floor. He was perched on top of a light post, saying something about impressing my father. Sam's mini falcon whizzed past me and grabbed Spider-Man by the web. He got pulled out a window, banging his side into the pane on the way out. I ran over to Sam and Bucky. Quickly, I destroyed the webbing and helped them up. They both gave me a quick "Thanks kid," before running back out. I followed them, staying loose on their trail.

Once I got outside my eyes scanned the area for the Spider. I saw Wanda piling cars on my father and Natasha fighting Clint. Then I spotted him, fighting Cap. He was underneath a jet bridge . Cap threw his shield at the support beams and the whole thing fell on top of Spider-Man. He caught it of course, but Cap ran away. I formed my plan.

"Hey!" I called out. I walked around the collapsing jet bridge. I stood in front of the struggling boy. Or man, I didn't know. "Remember me?"

"Heh, how could I forget such a pretty face," he grunted, starting to fold under the weight of the jet bridge. "You wanna give me a hand?" I glared at his face comment, but lifted the jet bridge anyway. He ran out and I let it fall. Both of us stopped for a minute, gasping for breath beside the rubble. He was close enough to hit. So I did. Without warning I threw a punch of air at him. It hit him right in the chest and he got blown back into the side of a van. "What the hell man?" He got up and shot a web at me. I dodged and threw another gust of wind. It shot him out of the air. He webbed at a pole and swung past my face. I redirected his gravitational pull, but not before he got a kick to my face. We both got thrown in different directions. I landed hard on the ground, pain shooting up my spine. I got up first, now angry. Forgetting about my powers, I lunged at him and threw a punch. I missed and he shot webs at my feet, holding me down. Immediately, I dissolved them and Spider-Man's eyes widened. Well, his mask's eye holes did anyway.

"How did you do that?" He yelled. "What kind of witchcraft-"

"Its not witchcraft," I spat. "It's called manipulation of the elements, look it up. I figured there had to be some water compound in this and I was right. All I had to do was remove it."

"That's so cool! And how did you do the foot thing earlier? Was that just the wind you do or do you have telekinesis too? Are you like the Scarlet Witch?" He rambled on. I took this to my advantage and caught him off guard. I used the van he'd hit earlier to become his gravitational pull and yanked. He went slamming into it and groaned. When he tried to get back up, I was already five steps ahead of him. Morphing the earth metals in the van, I contorted it into a shell that crushed Spider-Man until he was covered and stuck.

I heard Scott say that he was gonna tear himself in half over the earpiece. I got distracted from holding Spider-Man down and turned to see a giant Scott. Spider-Man broke free. He tore the shell off himself and threw it at me. I was wacked across the side and fell the the ground again.

"Holy shit!" he says, looking at Scott. His back was to me and I gave him one last wind push. He fell on his face and I laughed. "Oh come on, don't you have some dolls to play with or something?" I just scoffed and walked past him, stepping past his hand that was on the ground. He let out a yelp and you kept walking. Dolls, I thought. I'm thirteen I don't play with dolls. I watched as the rest of the battle went down. I wasn't quite sure what to do. I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Natasha was standing just behind me. "Come with me." We started jogging off. It was natural for me to listen to her. I realized about five seconds in that technically she was my enemy right about now, but I shrugged it off. I ran through the fight, past the big Scott and towards a warehouse. I could see the outline of a jet get bigger as I approached it. Natasha stopped behind the entrance. She was waiting.

"So what do we do?" I asked.

"We wait to fight," She replied, not taking her eyes off the horizon. I came to realize this probably means I would be fighting her. Maybe she wanted to use me as a hostage or something. No, that's silly. Right?

Steve and Bucky got closer to the building I was in. They nearly made it until Vision laser beamed the shit out of a nearby communications tower. Wanda caught it before it fell, giving the two men time to race towards the jet. I stepped out to help Wanda. The both of us were able to hold the rubble long enough for Steve and Bucky to get through. I panted, proud of myself for getting this far.

A searing pain sliced through my brain. Both myself and Wanda fell to the ground, screaming. I could barely look up to see that Rhodey was sending some sort of wave through the air. The tower fell and Natasha was quick to haul me out of the way before I got crushed. I might be better than Spider-Man, but I definitely don't have his super strength.

Steve and Bucky still managed to get through the falling paces of metal and concrete. Natasha left my side and marched swiftly towards the two men. I couldn't hear them, but I could sense the tension from a mile away. Natasha lifted her arm, taser aimed and ready. Steve held his shield up in defense as Natasha shoots....the Black Panther? I guess she's on our side now? The jet started to take off and you watch an Natasha continues to battle the Panther. I fell to my side, wiped out.

My father flew into the warehouse just as the jet leaves. You thought maybe he was going to fight Natasha for betraying him. I was wrong. He was coming for me. He landed beside me and dropped to his knees. His helmet closed and I could see the worry plastered on his cut up face. He knelt beside me and gently held me up.

"Are you okay?" he asked. I nodded, not really able to make words. He looked over at Natasha, who was looking at us. She had an apologetic look, but I know she doesn't regret letting Cap go. My father let me go and charged off after the jet plane. I lied down, enjoying the feeling of cold concrete against your skin. I closed my eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I paced around the living room, driving Nat crazy. I knew that the second my father got home I would be in deep shit. So when Friday alerted me that Tony was home my heart rate went up 29373%. The battle, this fight, it ended worse then I could have imagined. Natasha told me that my father could have died. Rhodey was paralyzed from the waist down. I had no idea if I'd ever see my Pops again. This was bad. Very, very bad.

I slowly walked down the main hall towards the front doors. I was scared. My hands and the back of my neck were sweating. I knew exactly what was coming. Every time I had asked my dad if I could be an honorary Avenger, I got the same lecture. That it was too dangerous, I didn't have the proper training and it's too much for his little girl to handle. Even when I asked to just be a part of the business side of the team, Tony laughed and said no. I've broken a lot of my father's rules, but this was the line. And I had gone so far over.

As I approached the front door, I could hear my father speaking. I heard another voice too. My heart dropped. It was Spider-Man. Why was Spider-Man here? I ducked behind a wall and listened in to the conversation.

"...outstanding job kid. Your fighting technique was on par. And, listen, I know we're not allowed to have kids on this team, but if we need you again, we'll call." I heard my father say.

"Thanks Mr. Stark. This was so cool," Spider-Man replied. I wondered if he had his suit on or not. I wanted to know who this guy was. I revealed myself from behind the wall. The two looked at me. I looked at my father first and fought the urge to burst into tears. He looked awful. His face was all cut up and the black eye he got was still a little swollen. I glanced at the figure beside him and frowned. Spider-Man was a kid. He looked like he was my age. He had a mop of curly brown hair and doe eyes. He was almost equally as beat up as my dad and I gracefully took credit for that.

"Y/n, this is Peter. He's, uh, one of my interns. Kid, this is Y/n," Tony said. My annoyance turned to anger. Now my father was lying to me?

"How old are you?" I asked, eyes narrowing. I knew that I sounded rude, but this kid had kicked me in the face twice. I didn't think he deserved my manners.

"I'm fourteen," Peter gulped. A year older than me. And I kicked his ass, I thought. "You gave me quite a fight back in Berlin."

"Yeah and I beat your ass doing it."

"Speaking of which," Tony spoke up, "I have to talk to Y/n about that. Happy will take you home Peter." Peter nodded and said goodbye to my father. He said goodbye to me, to which I didn't reply. Peter frowned at that as he walked out the door.

My dad turned to me when the door shut. "What," he began, "were you thinking?"

"Well I-"

"No. This is where you listen. Do you know how dangerous that mission was. Do you know how many people got hurt? You saw what happened to Rhodey, that could have been you!"

"But it wasn't" I retorted.

Tony's frown deepened. "That is not the point. You put yourself in serious danger, and for what? So you could feel a little more included? You could have died. This was my one rule, my one ask of you, and your broke it."

"Oh, come on now, I'm a Stark, it's in our blood to not listen to our fathers." My father gave me the coldest look and I shut down. I took a deep breath. "Look, I didn't know that it was gonna be this bad. You know me, daddy, I'm not a fighter, I'm not some hero. You think I would have gone if I knew it would turn out like this? I thought this was just gonna be another one your you and Pops' stupid fights. And yes, I could have gotten hurt, but I think I handled myself pretty well. You saw what I did you that little protege of yours. I beat him to the curb."

"Y/n you were reckless. Peter was prepared for this, he was ready."

"And I still beat him."

"Y/n you're not listening to me. This is why I chose Peter over you. I would have taken you if I knew you wouldn't do something stupid. But you did anyway." And with that he walked away, leaving me, teary-eyed in the front hall.

Tony came by my room later that night to apologize. He said that he was sorry for being harsh, that he just cared about me and I scared him. I knew he meant it and I forgave him, because that's what we do. Besides, it wasn't Tony I was angry with. This is why I chose Peter over you. Tony's words echoed through my head. I knew that he loved me more, I'm his daughter, he had to. But I were jealous. Jealous that stupid Peter Parker got the praise for the work I've wanted to hear for ages. And mad at that stupid spider for being stupid.

This is when I decided that I hate Peter Parker.

[meltwonu]

36. “Could he make you feel as good as i do?”

52. “I’m not jealous! its just…you’re mine!”

96. “Your ass is going to be seven different shades of red after that little stunt.”

notes; the littlest bit of dom!jun but mostly jealous/possessive!jun, car sex, car quickies!, dirty talk, the smallest hint of exhibitionism, the way i thought this was so hot but then i thought about MAMA and how they were just sitting in the cars/outside so I’ve remixed this a little bit heh hope u dont mind!! 😭😩💕 also prime example of that last ask and me having to be in the mood for certain prompts bc im pretty sure this one has been sitting in my inbox for months ☠️ sorry ‘bout that. just goes to show I don’t go in order!! As always, thank you for requesting! Enjoy! 💕

The van door shuts behind you louder than you expect it to; grimacing when you turn and meet Jun’s annoyed stare.

“Really?” He drawls, ushering you to scoot over to the back of the van as he follows suit. “He was three seconds from asking for your phone number if I hadn’t stepped in, y’know.”

You roll your eyes at Jun as you rest against the other side of the backseat. “I was just talking to him. And let’s be real, it’s boring staying in the van when everyone’s mingling outside.” Mumbling, you watch as Jun loosens his necktie; licking your lips at the simple gesture. “And it’s not like I was going to give it to him anyway, so you don’t need to be jealous, Jun.”

“I’m not jealous! It’s just… You’re mine!” He whispers harshly; careful to remember that the two of you were only in a van and that there were still people standing outside. “And I saw the way he was looking at you!”

“Yeah? And what kinda way was it?” Your voice drops slightly, eyes dancing up to Jun who meets your suggestive stare.

He chuckles under his breath, tinkering with the rings on his fingers as he thinks. “It’s the same way I look at you. When I want to bend you over the table and pull your panties to the side so I can fuck you when we’re both impatient. Or the way I look at you when you’re cumming on my cock and you’re so fuckin’ lost in getting off that you start playing with yourself to really milk your orgasm.”

Your body burns hot; pussy clenching around emptiness as you hang onto every word that leaves Jun’s lips.

He smirks in return when he sees the way your eyes seem to hollow, mind obviously elsewhere.

“And it’s the same look you have in your eyes now that you’re thinkin’ about my cock inside of you.”

“Ngh.. Jun…”

You swivel your hips; soft cries spilling from your lips as Jun’s blunt nails dig into your clothed waist. The two of you really didn’t have the time, so he’d quickly tugged you into his lap, harsh kisses against your lips while he snuck his hand up your short skirt before he had you sinking down onto his cock.

“You should really be careful, baby. You wouldn’t want them to hear you in here, would you?” He teases quietly. You shake your head in return as you open your foggy eyes and immediately start scanning the windows.

There were still staff running around outside and the two of you were unsure how long you even had before someone came poking around.

You’d thanked the higher powers that at least the windows had been tinted, at least a little.

“I’m suh--sorry, it’s j-just… you feel so g-good and--and, mmh, it’s been a-a while since we had t-time…” You mumble; bottom lip quivering when you feel him start to thrust up just as you start to bounce on his lap a little harder. His cock curves into you perfectly and you can’t help the loud cries that fall from your lips. 

Jun pouts up at you, brows furrowed. “I know, but we’ve been busy rehearsing. You know how it is.” He pauses; images of you speaking to the other male idol dancing in his mind before he gently scoffs. “Didn’t expect to invite you here and then catch you mingling with other male idols though.”

“Ugh, we were just t-talking~” You whine, “And I’m, ah, here n-now getting d-drunk off your c-cock…”

He grins at this; ego slightly boosted. “That’s right. Taking my cock in the backseat of our van that anyone can walk into. Letting everyone know how good I fuck you since you can’t seem to stay quiet either. Say, could he make you feel as good as I do?”

“N-no, fuh--fuck, Jun! Right there, please! Please…” You mewl, bouncing in his lap harder when the head of his cock slams into your g-spot.

The van sways slightly at your frantic movements and you’re sure by now that someone’s already caught on that there were definitely people in the van hooking up. Not that you cared.

“Play with yourself, baby. I wanna feel your ‘lil cunt getting tight around me when you cum on my lap.” Jun licks his lips, eyes dancing to the manager that almost opens the door but steps away once they realize the van’s moving. “I wanna cum in your pretty pussy. Gonna fill you up with so much of my cum that it’s spilling out of you and then once we get back to my room I’m gonna fuck it back into your tight hole while you beg me for more.” Grinning, he relishes in the way you only tighten around his cock at his words. “Or, you can go back out there. Go mingle with everyone while my cum slides down your thighs.” 

Jun can feel himself close to cumming too; hips canting upwards to meet your frenzied movements once you push your panties even more to the side to play with your clit.

His cock throbs inside of your tight heat, soft moans spilling from his own lips when he can feel you cumming on his cock not even a minute later.

“F-fuck, baby…” Your walls clamp down onto his cock in a vice grip as the pleasure washes over you, fingers still rubbing harsh and quick circles on your clit as you cry out Jun’s name in a hurried mess.

He cums soon after you, biting on his bottom lip to keep in his noises as the two of you ride out your highs.

You let out a drawn out moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “J--Jun I--you’re c-cumming so, ah, m-much…” The warmth spreads throughout your body as he fills you up and you find yourself swiveling your hips to ride out the remnants of your orgasm as he laughs under his breath.

“Yeah and don’t drop any of it or else the stylists are gonna kick my ass for getting my suit dirty.” He responds breathily, wiping at his forehead gently. You blink at him incredulously, wondering how you were supposed to get off his lap without spilling any cum on his, somewhat, still properly pressed slacks.

“But--but--”

“But what? Don’t you like a challenge?” Smirking, Jun watches as the gears turn in your head. You pout back at him, pulling your panties slightly until the hem is right against where his cock is still inside of you.

You quickly raise yourself off of his lap, tugging your panties back into place and letting out a guttural moan when you feel his cum already pooling in the material a second later.  

“Uh oh~” He singsongs, already making disapproving noises as you look down into his lap.

Jun reaches a hand between your legs in return; fingertips pressing into your cum covered panties as he teases your clit through the soaked material.

“J--Jun!” Letting out a shaky moan, you let him tease you through your panties, already somewhat grinding down onto his fingers. 

“You got cum on my slacks, baby. You know your ass is going to be seven different shades of red after that little stunt.”

“But---But I didn’t d-do it on, mmh, pur---purpose!” You cry out, breath hitching when he slowly pushes your panties into your hole. “I p-promise!”

A knock on the window drags the two of you out of your world; Seungcheol’s suit-clad form on the other side of the tinted glass. “Jun. 10 minutes.” He mutters, eyes focused elsewhere before briskly walking away from the van.

Your entire body is warm from the post-orgasmic bliss and slight embarrassment but all Jun does is smirk and retract his hand from between your legs.

“On second thought, stay in the van. I’ll deal with you once I get back and don’t even think about touching yourself while I’m gone.”

[lacharcutiere]

still [sawamura daichi]

1,6k words

previous | masterlist | next ➪

part eight of i’m gone i’m gone i’m gone miniseries. you can only put these things off for so long.

JST: japanese standard time (GMT +9). EST: eastern standard time (GMT -5). EDT: eastern daylight time (GMT -4).

tings // fluff, a little bit of angst, kinda suggestive at the end ?? // i swear this søng is abøut eating øut my best friend's pussy - cøzybøy // dm, ask or comment to be added to taglist ! minors dni.

☾𓆙𓂻

— JAPAN, SUMMER 2024.

the summer passes like this: you and daichi laughing too loudly in busy restaurants and train cars; having arms around each other in the back of taxis on the way home from clubs; making instant udon at three a.m.; walking up and down the neighborhood a hundred times; laying silently side by side and not needing to say anything. it's a routine, it's familiar—it's home.

a couple weeks before you're set to head back to new york, daichi asks you a question as you lay next to him on a blanket in your driveway, staring up at the stars.

"have you decided what your plans are after college?"

"i'm gonna come back here."

"i thought you wanted to go to grad school? you can do way better in the states, especially with a degree from columbia."

you roll onto your side so you can look at him better. "i know. but i've been away too long already. i miss you."

he gives you a little smile. "but i'm right here."

"right here is pretty fucking far from america."

"hm."

"hm."

that's the end of the conversation.

— 2 AUGUST 2024. 23:09 JST.

everything happens the exact same way it has for the past three years: he takes you to the airport. you try hard not to cry; you say your goodbyes. check-in, security, buy some candy to eat at the gate. board the plane. sixteen hours later, you're in america.

one thing was different, though.

when he said goodbye, his lips touched yours.

you don't stop thinking about it for weeks.

☾𓆙𓂻

— AUGUST TO NOVEMBER 2024.

slightly relieving is the fact that amid thesis writing and too many classes and working an internship under one of your professors (that one's nice, it even earns you enough to get a small apartment a few blocks from campus), there proves to be little time to be spent missing daichi.

you finesse your schedule to fit weekly facetimes on friday evenings (new york time) and shoot random texts back and forth about your day between classes and during meals, and without much space for anything else, it's enough. good things are worth waiting for, anyway.

— DECEMBER 2024.

but then winter sem break rolls around and there's no school so it's back to having too much lonely alone time with your thoughts. you write daichi a christmas card and drop it off at the post office. it's early this year, but oh, well.

☾𓆙𓂻

a week before christmas you receive a call from an unknown number. the phone speaker crackles when you accept the call.

“hello?”

“hey.” the voice on the other end is bright, smiley, accented. it’s tōru.

“tōru? what’s up?”

“i’m outside,” he says, “come down and meet me?”

you’re a little confused, but you decide to humor him. “uh, okay, give me a minute… do i need anything?”

“bring a coat, it’s cold out. i’ll be waiting down here.” the call ends.

a few minutes later you push through the doors of the building to be met with a brisk wind and tōru standing by a payphone, grinning.

“do you have your subway pass?”

you feel inside your pocket for it and nod.

“good,” he says. “come on, we’re in a hurry.”

“where are we going?”

“downtown.”

“ohhkay?”

he laughs. “‘s not anything you won’t like, promise.”

you follow him into the nearest subway entrance, lost in thought as you push through the barrier and step onto the train. it's only when he nudges you and says, "this is our stop," that you realize you've been looking at the ground the whole time.

tōru notices how absent you seem to be and asks, "are you okay?"

"i would be if i knew what was going on," you respond.

"yeah," he says, leading you up the stairs and into the terminal, "yeah, i think you will be."

you're in grand central. tōru asks if he can borrow your phone for a second. when he hands it back to you, he doesn't say anything, just takes you by the arm smiling widely and leads you into the fray of commuters that fill the station.

"tōru!" you groan, "can't you just tell me where we're going?"

"magnolia," he replies simply.

"we came all the way here just for coffee?"

"mhm."

"tōru!" he stops walking and turns back to you, trying and failing miserably to stop grinning for a second. "what the fuck?"

"come on," he says, "you'll like it."

"we've been here before! what's so special about—"

"you'll see."

☾𓆙𓂻

coffee in grand central is surprisingly good. it's also surprisingly expensive. ah, well, it's new york. new york has much more to offer than just overpriced cafés.

such as... this. such as a laughing man that leads a remarkably pissed-off looking girl by the arm, towards this stupidly good, stupidly overpriced café.

the pair are weaving through a stream of people, almost there, and then they're there, and the girl is looking much less agitated now. she looks somewhere between crying and wanting to run in the opposite direction. thank god, she chooses the former.

he loves you. so much.

☾𓆙𓂻

"daichi?" you mean it to be a scream but your voice cracks a little and it comes out airy.

he has the exact same look on his face that tōru's had this whole time. "hi."

"oh my god, what the fuck?"

"you said it was lonely, tōru told me maybe it would be nice for you to have a date for new year's, i had some extra money saved up. so i came."

"you— what?" you look back at tōru. "you planned this? just? last minute?"

"nah," daichi laughs, "no, i meant to come visit you for christmas a while ago. i already had tickets and everything, i was gonna tell you but then i got your card and figured it might be more fun if it were a surprise."

"oh my god." that's all you can think to say.

— CHRISTMAS 2024.

you can't even explain how good it feels to wake up and walk into the living room to find daichi asleep on your couch on christmas morning, how good it feels for it to not just be you. the whole time he's been here, though, you've forced yourself not to think about the fact that he's going back home in a week and a half, forced yourself not to do anything just yet. soon, though. just a few more months.

☾𓆙𓂻

when he wakes up, you're making coffee for the two of you.

"merry christmas," he says, wrapping one arm around your shoulders. he places a card on the counter in front of you. "open it."

its message is simple.

you do as it says.

"i, uh, haven't gotten you anything yet, but—"

"daichi," you laugh, "it's okay. and um, i may have also not been able to get you anything. also because i didn't know you'd be here."

"wait, wait, i'm not finished."

"okay?"

"what do you want to do after you're done this year of school?"

"i already told you," you say, "i'll move back home."

"no, what do you want to do? you want to go to grad school, right? continue studying here?"

"no, i just want to stop waiting." you sigh, a little frustrated. "i don't wanna have to keep putting this off, it's been—"

he cuts you off. "i'll be here."

"huh?"

"i'll be here. or wherever."

"i don't get it?"

you've always loved the way daichi's nose scrunches up when he smiles. "you're the one planning on studying more, not me. not immediately, anyway. i'll go with you."

"daichi."

"what?"

"you're fucking joking."

he laughs; you look so confused right now. "i'm not. promise."

"i don't even—"

"hey."

"hm?"

"think you can handle long-distance for five months?"

"uh—" you inhale sharply. "yeah."

"good," he says, "then we don't have to keep putting this off."

it's been five months since you last let your lips touch his. it still feels just like the first time it happened.

— 31 DECEMBER, 2023. 19:36 EST.

he tries not to let you pay for dinner, but in the end, you slip the waiter your card while daichi's in the bathroom. it's his birthday; it's your treat.

and after dinner, there's that new year's eve party that tōru's been going on about. it feels good, so good, not to be there alone. it feels good to watch the broadcast from downtown and count the seconds to midnight as daichi's arms are wrapped around you from behind. the clock reaches zero; daichi kisses you hard. you're both drunk on champagne.

you watch him smile across the room at tōru, who's got his girl on his arm. the two of them look happy, too. everything is warm.

— DEPARTURE: 3 JANUARY 2025. 08:15 EST.

daichi's asleep next to you when the alarm on his phone goes off. you'll miss not waking up next to him for the next five months, but at least that's all it will be.

he makes faces at you in the mirror as you both brush your teeth; keeps trying to tug your sweater off when you get dressed. you spend these thirty minutes laughing with him until it hurts. the two of you take the subway back to grand central; make out in a corner of the terminal while he waits for his train to jfk international to arrive.

"see you in may."

— 21 JANUARY 2025.

taglist: @sakruisin-thru @softetsurou @oligbia

[oneoftheextras]

brother-in-law | one

yandere shota aizawa x reader

masterlist  | tip jar

from the kinktober requests: “skull, grey, 7″

skull - eraserhead (shota aizawa), grey - yandere, 7 - family

(no incest don’t worry, i needed to think of a way for it to be family & not incest)

Part 1 | Part 2

The family dinner was going well. That was until the topic of politics came up and then your father went off on a rant that wouldn’t finish until desert was served.

It was always strange to have the whole family around your large dinner table, and it was even stranger that your parent’s still kept it considering all of their children had since moved out and gone their own ways.

It was the day before Halloween, and your mom had ordered everyone back to your family home for her annual Halloween party. Old and new family friends would be there as well as long lost cousins and second cousins, and even third cousins - there would be an average of 300 people. The house was big enough.

But tonight was close family time, just parents and siblings.

Well, you and the sibling’s partners and children.

You were the second eldest, but even your younger brother was already happily married with a baby on the way. The inevitability of your great aunt asking when you would settle down tomorrow loomed over your head. But for now, you were eyeing up the pudding.

“And that’s my opinion on that” your father finished before plummeting his fork into the desert, whilst everyone was just relieved the conversation was over. 

You went to follow suit but felt something brush against your shin from the other side of the table, looking up at your sister- who sat opposite you and smiled. She must have accidentally kicked you while rearranging herself in her seat.

Hearing your father clear his throat, you turned your attention back towards him, “How about that teaching job of yours, Shota?” your dad addressed the man sitting next to your sister. He wasn’t quite ready for the question to be thrown at him, so he quickly struggled to swallow the lump of pudding he had put into his mouth only moments before.

“It’s good, rewarding as ever” was all he said, he was a man of very few words, often the person that would silently listen to the rest of the room without barely saying a thing.

Normally his long black hair would flow down to meet his broad shoulders, but as this was a, somewhat, formal occasion he had it pulled back into a bun. He often did this to be respectful, although he wanted to hide in his own hair, it was rude for the rest of the room to not see his face. 

Your sister turned towards her husband, in a semi-whisper “Tell him about the move!” she ordered him, Shota tiredly looked at his wife- your sister- as though this topic was something that had been talked about a million times.

“The move?” your mother chimed in curiously, “You’re not getting rid of that lovely house we bought you, are you?” of course she would be concerned when it came to property.

Your sister huffed and crossed her arms “I would never! It’s a lovely house, it’s just-” your sister cut herself off and turned to stare at Shota with a frustrated look.

Oh no. You knew it was all going too well, here comes the yearly argument that makes everyone uncomfortable for the rest of the night.

Shota glanced between all of the faces staring at him in anticipation, “It’s not that big of a deal” he sounded very calm for someone who was receiving a death glare from his wife. “The school has asked the teachers to be closer to the school for security reasons, so I’m renting an apartment elsewhere for Monday to Friday” he explained.

“But we will have to be apart” your sister whined, to anyone else looking into the situation it would seem like your sister was the youngest of you all when she was actually the eldest. She was definitely the most spoiled.

You continued to listen while eating your pudding, everyone else had stopped to gape at the one-sided argument happening opposite you, you weren’t going to let yours get cold.

“To be honest, it’s better for me anyway, the apartment I found is only a short walk from the school, normally I have to drive for an hour” Shota sipped his drink after he spoke. It was obviously something he had no choice over so he wasn’t stressing himself.

There was a quiet that fell around the table, your sister silently eyed every family member as a way to get them to defend her, but Shota was right.

“Where’s the apartment?” your dad asked out of nowhere, Shota put his drink back down on the table and you watched him lick the remaining residue off his bottom lip “Downtown” was all he said.

You felt his eyes fall on you for a brief second, it was so quick there was no way you could be certain that he even looked at you. “Isn’t that near where your apartment is, Y/N?” your dad asked you, suddenly all eyes were on you.

Letting out a puddling-muffled “Uh-huh”, you gazed towards Shota who’s eyes had gone slightly darker. “That’s good, you can keep an eye on her then, Shota” your dad chuckled, “Make sure she’s not getting into any trouble” he finished before lighting a cigar.

 You were about to protest when you felt something rubbing your leg again, it was slower than before and very gentle, you looked directly at your sister but she wasn’t paying you any attention.

“I’m going to get more champagne” she huffed and stood upright, marching away from the table. The rubbing stopped a few seconds too late to be your sister. Nervously, you looked towards the only other person on that side of the table, and he was already staring back at you.

“I’ll come with you, I need to wash up my dishes anyway” you quickly stood and took your plates with you feeling your face start to burn.

You had always found Shota attractive ever since he first started dating your sister a few years ago, but there was nothing you could do about it other than be jealous that your sister found him first.

By the end of the night you were rather sweaty, everyone was starting to make their way to bed so you decided to hop into the shower. It was bad, but while the hot water was running down your face and body, you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Shota was going to be living a few blocks away from you - alone.

It was wrong to think about him, he was your sister’s husband - your brother in-law. But as long as you didn’t act on anything or tell anyone, it was fine to let your mind drift, right?

When you’d had enough, you wrapped a towel around your body and opened the bathroom door. Your old bedroom was at the end of the hall, opposite the bathroom, and you preferred to get dry in the comfort of your own room. As you passed the doors to your left you heard your dad snoring, surely he hadn’t fallen asleep that quickly.

You glanced down at your watch, which was resting on top of the clothes you were carrying, it was gone 1am - you had been in the shower for over 45 minutes.

Just as you were stood facing your door, you realised that between holding your towel up and carrying your clothes you had no free hand to turn the door handle. At that moment, the door just behind you opened and you heard the faint sound of the floorboards moving.

Immediately, you turned and began to apologise thinking that you’d woken your brother’s pregnant girlfriend - who had previously warned you all about how light of a sleeper she was - “Sorry if I woke you up, I didn’t realise everyone would be-” but it wasn’t her.

“I haven’t gone to sleep yet” Shota said, putting his hands into his pockets after he silently closed the bedroom door behind him, “Oh” was all you said, there was no point in apologising when you hadn’t done anything wrong.

“What took you so long?” he asked out of nowhere, his gaze unmoving from your face as you could feel it heating up. “Just needed to unwind after dinner” you weren’t technically lying, dinner was very stressful.

Shota made an ‘Ah’ sound which told you that he definitely didn’t buy your lie, this man works with children every day, of course he could spot a lie. “What’s the real reason?” he pushed you. Something in his eye told you that he knew, it was probably your paranoia, but his upturned smirk made you anxious.

To change the subject you decided to ask him the first thing that came to mind, “So, where’s your new apartment?” almost immediately he answered you, “The Fitzgerald Estate”. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, “That’s my apartment block” you replied a little shocked.

“I know” he said, taking a few steps towards you, never breaking eye contact. You stayed put, he was probably moving away from the door so you could talk more freely without risking waking up your sister.

“What floor are you?” you asked before you could think, you weren’t sure you wanted the answer. “Four” he continued to make his way towards you, he was getting a bit too close for it to be socially acceptable so you backed up until you couldn’t any longer, “That’s my floor” you breathed, surely it was all coincidence.

“I know” he said again, you stopped yourself before you asked what number but almost as though he read your mind he said “36″, you were number 37 - he would literally be next door. It was going to be extremely hard for you to put your attraction for him aside when you would be seeing him so often.

“That’s-” “Right next door” you started, but he finished. By this point your back was flat against the cold wood and he was towering over you - so close that his chest was against the clothes you were holding.

“Why? How?” you had too many questions and the smell of him was making your senses weaker, “Like your dad said, I need to make sure you’re not getting into trouble” he lifted his hand to wipe away some water that had trickled from your hair and onto your cheek, his fingers were warm against your skin.

“We’ll be seeing a lot of each other” he whispered in a low voice as he let his hand fall to your side, barely brushing your towel-covered hip but it was enough to make your whole body tense.

Suddenly the door opened from behind you, you stumbled backwards and if it wasn’t for Shota’s arm holding you close to his body you would have fallen. He didn’t let go of you straight away, your chest was heaving up and down from the adrenaline of almost falling mixed in with the intimate position you were in.

Slowly, he released you and allowed you to get your footing, “Sleep well” he commented before turning away to return to his room.

The next day you tried to keep your distance, focusing on the numerous tasks that your mother had set for you all: putting up decorations around the house, organising the furniture to open the room up to look even bigger than it already was.

In almost no time at all, the party was in full force and you had managed to avoid Shota entirely. It gave you time to try and get yourself together, but you still couldn’t get around the questions of how he knew exactly where you lived, you hadn’t told anyone, not even your parents.

You were dressed as a porcelain doll, your hair was in two braids and you had a baby blue dress on. To be honest, you were trying to be as close to Annabelle as possible, but you weren’t that good at make up.

Before the party your mom had gone out of her way to tell you that you had to be social, you were sure that she had noticed you sticking to yourself for the majority of the day. To please her, you decided to join the 50 other people that were dancing to the music.

After a while various family members came up to dance with you and talk, well shout, over the music. It was good for a while, until someone snaked their hand around your waist and turned you to face them, taking your hand in theirs in a traditional ballroom style.

“Shota” you grumbled as a greeting, you felt his chest vibrate as he said your name back to you. “You’ve been avoiding me all day” he stated, he was talking so softly that if he wasn’t leaning into your ear you wouldn’t have heard him over the music. You decided it was best for you not to comment on that and continue to pretend your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest.

“I spent so much time and effort to be here and you repay me by avoiding me?” he continued as he moved you quickly in time with the music, “I wasn’t avoiding you, I was busy” you lied, the second time in the last 24 hours. “Too busy for your neighbour?” you could feel him grinning without even looking at his face.

Somewhere from the crowd of people you heard someone say “Ah, isn’t he a good big brother” and it made you feel sick to your stomach, hearing those words paired with how you were feeling about him.

“Why’s your heart beating so hard?” he continued to hound you with questions in an attempt to get some conversation out of you - you tried to step away from him but his grip on your waist got tighter, making you whimper slightly. 

There was no use trying to lie to him, he could feel your ragged breath against him, dancing with you was the perfect excuse to get closer to you. “You’re making me anxious” you made sure to word it in a way that wouldn’t raise too much suspicion. 

“I’m sorry” he sounded sincere, so you reared your head up to look at his face, “I only want to protect you” as he spoke you noticed the fangs attached to his teeth, “A vampire? Really? How original” you mocked his costume. “And a doll is better?” he shot back at you.

He let go of your hand so he could play with one of your braids, he was so gentle that you genuinely believed that he wanted to protect you, “I wonder what noise you would make if I pulled these” he grinned evilly, you were taken back by his complete change in tone. 

Almost as quickly as he had said it, he slowly started to tighten his grip on your hair until a small moan left your mouth, you were lucky that the music was so loud otherwise the people around you would have heard. “Fuck” Shota breathed and you felt his fingers dig into your back for a second.

You took his moment of weakness to break away from his embrace, you headed straight for the back door, not looking back to see what his reaction was.

Taking a seat on the swinging bench outside, you put your head in your hands and tried to steady your breathing. What the Hell were you going to do?

(if you want a part 2 let me know, I had fun writing this)

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