#i read through the first chapters and ... yikes

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

Well, i have read the sample from Shusters book and what can i say. Now i get what the other anon was saying. Just from two chapters it’s already clear that Shuster is trying to paint Ze like some applause dependent dictator, who doesn’t give a fuck and his kids and wife(As Shuster wrote «Puts his work above everything else»🤡🤡)

Interesting, what you can say about that book because i’m already disappointed…

.

[lildoodlecat]

Immensely disappointed to find there are no wangxian podfics at 20+ hours. What am I supposed to do, record one mysel— *forcefully dragged away*

[innorogers]

Vigil

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: For a man who has faced down gods, monsters, the end of the universe, this kind of fear is new to him. It’s not the enemy outside he fears—it’s the thought of losing you, of failing to protect you. Again.

Warning: Mention of sex / Fluff & Angst / Protective Steve / Jealous Steve /

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter, Natasha Romanoff / John Walker

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening | 6: Dusk | 7: Hypnagogia | 8: Lull

It ended just as expected. Steve cummed twice in the shower—once in your mouth, because, damn, he tasted amazing after cleaning up, and again inside you, because you smelled just as irresistible with that jasmine scent in your hair.

So here you are, three cups of coffee later, and about to nap on your desk. The body Hydra gave you was strong, but you’ve been in a car chase, with the Iron Army hunting you down, fought in a nightclub, and probably had four or five rounds of sex with Steve. You honestly don’t know what was more exhausting. You’d guess the mission that had gone rogue, but honestly, the sex just left you breathless.

"Oh, rough night?" Robert handed you a fourth cup of coffee, eyeing the dark circles under your eyes. "Need the adrenaline shot?"

"Um…" You actually considered it for a moment. Your body metabolized stuff like that too fast, though—it would only last for a couple of hours, tops. "Nah, forget it.” You need your brain clear to process everything that happened. 

“I’ve heard…” Dr. Lin’s voice interrupted your thoughts as he leaned casually on your desk, his eyes scanning the room where your colleagues were clearly whispering about you. “That Captain America had quite the adventure yesterday. Right after leaving the UN, too.”

He tsked and pulled out his phone, showing you a few grainy clips. Footage from CCTVs and some shaky handhelds—probably from people who had their phones out at the right moment. “A broken bridge, streets on fire, and…a fight in a nightclub? You’re gonna need more than coffee to survive this shift, I think.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Too late for damage control, huh? Is it all over the news?” You could only imagine the hell Steve was going through with Commander Hill: ‘I gave you 1,278 security protocols, and you ignored them all?!’ Yeah, you weren’t setting foot in the command room today.

“Not quite all over the news yet—mostly social media.” Dr. Lin was clearly enjoying the UN’s PR disaster a bit too much. “I think they’re working overtime behind the scenes to sweep it under the rug. Captain America gets attacked his first time outside the compound during ‘The Reconciliation of the Century’? Yeah…someone’s having a bad day in PR.”

“Anyway…as I was saying…You’re gonna need more than coffee, we’ve got company today…”

“What? Company?” You were surprised. “They’re letting people in?!” After yesterday’s security breach?

“Seems the first New Era Project agent that the UN sent was a fraud or didn’t work. And since we visited them yesterday already, today, they’re sending some new guys.” Dr. Lin looked at you, lowering his glasses: “Yikes, right? So for today, we need to pretend we’re working. ‘Cause we’re not sharing our real stuff…which will make this day unbearable.”

Oh. You grimaced after Dr. Lin turned around and began “working.” Yeah, you knew everything about how the last agent went wrong. But actually, this ‘pretend to be working’ thing was good—you needed to analyze everything that had happened.

You opened a document connected to Tony’s hub and started typing, outlining the details for him in your usual style. (It was your private little system—documents stored in The Crib, or what the three of you called the ‘Geniuses’ Sticky Notes.’) You’d barely finished bullet point five when someone in a crisp military uniform appeared beside you, smiling next to your screen.

“Hi, Doctor—whose phone number is still confidential. Nice to see you again.” John Walker said smiling, quoting the line you’d once used to refuse giving him your number.

Oh dear Lord, he really should have taken a nap with you when he had the chance, instead of those three—no, four rounds of sex you had in the dressing room and the shower.

Steve thought after suppressing another yawn, trying to focus on the screen, where Thadeus Ross was losing his temper again, explaining why the UN had nothing to do with the attack he and you got yesterday.

But who was he kidding? Steve almost smiled. Nope, no way he’d have preferred the nap over the sex. That was exactly what he needed after being hard almost the entire afternoon. And four times weren’t enough—he would have gone on if you weren’t in the dressing room.

For fuck’s sake, when is this over? He couldn’t wait to get back to your private lab-slash-home, have a light dinner, and get in bed with you.

Oh, that’s a nice thought: a sex marathon for the weekend is all he needs after this hellish week. He started thinking of your intertwined bodies, your begging moans that sounded like heaven... Yeah, okay, he needs to focus. Maybe listen to what the Secretary has to say instead of thinking about your messy hair, your heavy breath, your skin that felt like silky sweet milk, and your mouth... Yup, stop. Let’s hear Ross, so he doesn’t get hard again in the middle of a full meeting room.

He felt a glare on him, so he looked around and saw Agent Sharon Carter staring with her eyebrows raised, as if saying, “Gotcha, pay attention.” Steve suppressed a smile and looked down. Oh boy, this was going to be a long day.

“I thought your super friends were going to be attending this meeting too.” Once the screen was off, Sharon smiled at him while picking up the folders and files.

“Well... Hill and Sam are still in Fraser’s interrogation. Tony and Bruce are tracking back the security breach. Natasha and Clint took over my place in training since I’m busy with other things. So...”

Basically, what happened was that when Tony asked who would be taking this mission, everyone stepped back, and I was the only idiot at the front. Steve shook his head internally.

“In that case.” Sharon gave him the usual confident wink. “I’m glad. It’s been forever since we shared a mission.” She grinned. “Last time almost cost me my career.”

“Yeah...um...lucky, things sorted out on that one...” He was a little embarrassed but still grateful for Sharon’s help during the Civil War chaos.

“I’m kidding with you, okay?” Sharon teased. “It’s not like I almost got into federal prison or anything.” She sighed a little, lowering her voice: “Although, I wouldn’t have minded if I had to.” She said with a soft voice and a sparkle in her eyes, looking at Steve with sincerity, which made him stiffen.

“So, how have you been?” Steve nodded and asked with a polite smile, pressing the elevator button for her as they headed to the cafeteria floor. “How does it feel to be at the UN? I heard the benefits are better than the CIA, though unfortunately, you’ll need to deal with us again.”

"Ah, I don’t know what you're talking about," Sharon said with a wink, grinning playfully. "Every agent’s dream, right? Dealing with the Avengers, working alongside the great Captain America... even if, well, my boss would rather face another alien army than deal with the politics of this initiative."

“Well, that’d make two of us.” Steve chuckled, and opened the cafeteria door for her.

The hum of chatter and the clinking of dishes filled the air. The compound’s cafeteria was large, efficient, and—much to Steve’s relief—quiet at this time of day. It was near lunchtime, but still a little early for food service, so the air was full of a coffee’s aroma that lingered from breakfast. They got in line for coffee and a quick snack, and Sharon gave him a sideways glance, her expression teasing as she grabbed a sandwich.

“Oh wow, you guys have affogato as dessert? I could consider getting back to work with you guys just for your catering service.” Sharon said, breaking the brief silence as they moved along the counter.

“Well, if you consider that, I could make my best effort to get your agent’s number back.” Steve grinned, grabbing just a cup of coffee.

“Oh yes, lucky number, huh?” She stopped for a second as she laughed and said, “Remember that place we went to… Venice? What was it called, the best affogato in the world.”

“Benicio’s?” Steve nodded. “Yeah… it’s closed now. I mean, gone during the Blip, hopefully reopened now.”

“You didn’t have the affogato, though,” Sharon said with a playful hint in her voice. “Mr. ‘I don’t know how to relax since I got into a fight with Stark and we’re on the run.’”

“Hey, I was the international most wanted. I think it was okay for me just to stay out of the loop. Imagine if I got caught because of ice cream. That would’ve been…”

“Funny? Quite a story to tell? Best date I’ve ever had?” Sharon shrugged.

“...Embarrassing.” Steve said with a smile. “Or awkward, or even humiliating.”

Sharon shook her head and laughed. They found a table by the window, where sunlight poured in, and Steve took a seat across from her. He could see the curiosity in Sharon’s eyes, the slight hesitation before she spoke again.

“It really was, actually. One of my top three dates.” Her smile turned more serious, her voice low enough that only Steve could hear over the ambient noise. “Too bad it ended so… abruptly.”

Steve wanted to say, "We would never have made it too far", but he only sighed.

He didn’t want to dismiss her feelings, and he couldn’t deny that something had existed between them. It was brief, but also real. A shared history they couldn’t quite forget or ignore.

Sharon was strong, smart, and capable—someone he admired deeply and cared about. He appreciated her confidence and her courage, but that connection, though meaningful, was nothing compared to what he felt for you now.

That had been a stream. With you, it was tides, waves, the entire ocean.

“We made a good team.” Steve said with a smile, being honest and looking directly into her eyes.

Something about it made Sharon hold her breath. 

She could remember moments in the past when Steve had the same effect on her. He would just gaze at her, and her heartbeat would skip or beat too fast.

Maybe that’s why she hadn’t pushed harder when it didn’t work. If she had fallen, completely and madly, as she’d wanted to, the power he held over her would have been overwhelming.

She had risked her entire career just to help him, and they were… nothing. Just a kiss, just some kisses or dates. So what would have happened if they’d continued? She couldn’t imagine a life where she had so little discipline about her feelings, mind, or heart.

“I know.” Sharon spoke softly, still holding his gaze. She was taking a leap of faith now. Cause she couldn’t help to wonder—could it have worked?

What if…they gave it another chance? They didn’t have the menace of the universe’s destruction now, the chances of Steve (or her) being a fugitive again were none after Thanos, so what… what if…?

“But…” She began, but Steve suddenly turned as something caught his attention.

It was lunchtime, and the employees began to arrive at the cafeteria, you among them, with Dr. Lin at your right and John Walker at your left.

“Captain Walker, I really don’t need a date. I have a boyfriend, no, um… fiancé.” You said as you picked up a tray and started serving lunch on your plate, remembering how Steve just highlighted this morning that the ring was indeed, a ring.

“It’s John.” Said a very cheerful John Walker, who was not stepping back from asking you out, even though you had been determined and clear about your “NO”s and reasons.

“Well, does this fiancé have a name? And where’s the ring?” he said while picking lunch and placing food, walking backward with a gracious wink.

“OH MY GOD!” You and Dr. Lin said at the same time, your eyes widening as you noticed the ring was missing from your finger.

“Where’s the ring? D…did you lose the ring?!” Robert was panicking. Did you just lose the engagement ring Captain America gave you?!

“I don’t know, it was on my finger...” You were looking in your lab coat pockets and in your clothes.

“It’s a tracking device, equipped with the last of Stark technology, how...how can you lose a tracking device?!” Dr. Lin couldn’t believe it. 

“Your boyfriend put a tracking device on you?” John hmph'd with a laugh. “What a douchebag!” He put a hand on his chest. “I promise, I would never do such a manipulative, controlling freak thing to you.” He winked. “I’ll look out for other guys who come close, of course, but that’s another level of jerkiness. Ugh...a tracking device, what is he, a psychopath?”

“It’s an engagement ring,” you replied, frowning, though you didn’t think of giving out too much information to him. You thought back to the last time you saw the ring, which was before you took it off when you entered the UN HQ.

You pulled out your phone, wanting to send a message to Steve just to confirm.

Some strands of hair curved in front of you when you looked down, and John, who was standing in front of you, couldn’t help but stretch out his hand and brush them to your shoulder. His fingers ran through your hair, and his fingertips touched your ear as he accommodated it for you.

Before you could react, a loud crash echoed through the cafeteria, like the sound of a broken cup or mug.

Sharon stood in shock as Steve slammed his cup down so hard the porcelain shattered. His face was livid, veins bulging in his neck, and his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.

He abruptly stood, the chair scraping loudly behind him, and stormed in your direction.

"I've got it, babe." Steve said. He didn’t miss a moment of the interaction and was at your side in an instant. He took your hand, his eyes locked on John Walker, and carefully slid the ring back onto your finger. “It was in the pocket of your gear.” 

Both captains exchanged tense, serious looks. You could feel the sparks fly between them as they made eye contact, and after a long moment, Steve finally smiled.

“I’m guessing you're here as a representative of the New Era’s Project, Captain Walker?” He said, placing a firm hand on your waist, his grip tightening slightly.

“Yes.” John replied with a polite but sneering smile.

“The knowledge exchanges from R&D have been…quite enlightening. I can’t wait to see what the best of your team has to offer…to me.” He said as he raised his jaw and tilted his head toward you. You could feel Steve’s body tense, like a bow stretched to its full capacity and ready to snap back.

"Take whatever gear or armory you want, Walker," Steve said in a cold, measured voice, as the entire cafeteria fell silent, all eyes locked on the tension between the two men.

"But the best of this compound is far beyond your reach. And don’t think for a second that you could ever put a finger on that." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, teeth clenched. Touch my girl’s hair again, and I’ll cut your arm off.

"Steve." A calm voice cut through the tension as Commander Hill appeared at the doorway. She walked in with steady confidence. "We’ve got news. I need you and Dr. Lancaster in the Command Room."

Steve didn’t immediately move. His gaze lingered on Walker for a few more seconds, with unspoken warnings in his eyes. Then, without a word, he turned to you, gently taking your hand in his, and led you out of the cafeteria. The weight of Walker’s stare followed behind you both, but your focus stayed fixed on your fiance's figure.

No one spoke in the hallway as you walked toward the Command Room. You could see Steve’s rigid expression. He was pissed, his jaw tight, shoulders tense as if holding back more words.

But you were… well, trying your best to hide the curve of your lips. Just like he had back in the car when you sobbed that you’d go to Wakanda and talk to plants for the rest of your life if he ever left you to go back to his gorgeous ex.

Oh, so he was this jealous? Even a little possessive? He got this mad just because a guy touched your hair? Now, if Steve were any other guy, maybe this would seem like a giant red flag, but this was the love of your life, so…

You slid your hand into his palm, pressing your skin to his, and intertwined your fingers with his. 

Steve’s expression softened, and he looked at you, letting out a quiet sigh. He smiled when you mouthed, I love you.

Commander Hill, however, wasn’t in the mood for your lovebird moments. Her face remained stern as she waited for the door to close behind you, sealing the room.

"Agent Frazer was found dead this morning."

The words hung in the air like a punch to the gut. Steve’s hand tightened around yours as his expression shifted from softened warmth to immediate alertness.

You lowered your sight.

Somehow, you had a feeling this was coming anytime soon. It was weird, though. Agent Frazer was not your brother; he just pretended to be for some time (and then actually tried to brainwash slash attack you). But for a moment, you wished that had been true, that your brother was alive, even if he had been turned against you. So now he is dead, and you feel strangely sad.

Your way of dealing with it? Throw yourself into the facts.

“How?” you asked, almost mechanically. “Was it because… his neural synapses overloaded, triggering an energy surge that short-circuited his cerebral cortex in under a millisecond? Like… like someone or something… wired his brain to self-destruct?”

Maria’s eyes widened, and she gave a quick, silent nod.

Steve’s grip tightened, haunted by your words. At that moment, he panicked, cold sweat through his shirt, fear dominating his senses when the possibility of losing you suddenly struck hard in his mind. So, could anyone do that? Snap their fingers and cause you a brain dead? 

His body was merely processing under this thought. He felt the urge to hug you, to feel your warmth and heartbeat under his skin, to feel you entirely safe in his arms. But you were in the command room, so he didn’t move.

“Can we make sure that…” His voice trembled slightly. “What happened to Frazer…” doesn’t happen to you?

Commander Hill noted his panic, so she gave him some time to process.

“Oh no.” You noticed too, so you reassured him, squeezing his hand back: “That won’t happen to me. I’ve only been through one brainwash. It takes more than that—multiple processes, open surgery. And Hydra… they didn’t have the tech to pull it off. Not back then.”

“But…” Your mind raced ahead, piecing things together. “Whoever did this? They’re desperate.”

You rubbed your forehead, and as your hands dropped, Maria noticed it: that look on your face.

The same intense, calculating look Steve wore when he was seeing things no one else could—analyzing every possibility, tracing out the most brilliant, cunning plan, whether on a battlefield or at a table of white collars and power brokers.

“Jarvis, any chance Bruce and Tony are in the crib?” You needed to process your ideas, but you also needed someone who could remember everything you’d said.

“They are on their way here, Dr. Lancaster.” answered the A.I. “Crossing the elevator’s door at this moment.” said Jarvis as both entered the room.

“Please tell me you already have a preliminary conclusion?” said Tony, stepping into the room.

“Okay…” You stood in the middle, your mind moving faster than words as you started laying out the analysis.

“They have access to Hydra files—there’s no other way to explain it. Clearance levels that aren’t just high for regulars; files that were locked, or used to be locked, behind old S.H.I.E.L.D. encryption. And the remains of my file? Only a few could access those after Hydra was dismantled.”

Tony leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, tracking your every movement. Bruce sat at the edge of a table, hands loosely folded, but his furrowed brow betrayed his concern.

“So, leftover Hydra goons or former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents?” Tony asked. He didn't want to say it aloud, but there was also another possibility: a breach, here, inside the Avengers.

“Or both.” Steve raised an eyebrow. “Ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives who went dark when Hydra fell. People who know how to stay hidden but had deep ties to the old Hydra infrastructure.”

“Even if they had the files, they’d need money. A lot of it, if they’re working with the kind of tech that got into Frazer’s head.” Bruce said, swiping through the files on the screen.

“Yeah, this doesn’t sound like some underground merc group.” Maria said, standing beside him as she watched the files on the main screen.

“This is serious, billionaire-level investment. Whoever’s backing them has access to bleeding-edge tech. Retinal implants, memory manipulation… that’s not standard black-market operation. The kind of power they’re throwing around is something only the Avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D. had access to—the old S.H.I.E.L.D. when they were still around.”

“So, they’re gearing up for something big, or they’re hitting a wall. What are they trying to accomplish? Why use Frazer as a puppet?” Tony followed the line of thought.

You hesitated: “I think… They’re close to something. A breakthrough, maybe. Or…” You stopped and narrowed your eyes, thinking aloud. “Or they’re failing. Desperate. They’re making bold moves because they need something critical. And that something is… me.”

Steve’s expression shifted. His fingers locked onto yours, tightly.

“The attack was directed at you. Frazer was pretending to be your brother. And to confirm your existence.” Tony sighed, frustrated and feeling a pang of guilt. He hid you all these years, thinking you would be safe. He should have let you out of the New Eras Project. The Avengers had so many ways of detecting enemies without using your powers. Fuck, he should have listened to Steve when he warned him to let you out of the Project.

“Of the twelve of you, you’re the only one with… those powers.” Steve murmured, almost clenching his teeth. He felt the urge to hug you, as if you were going to disappear or vanish in the next second.

“And a success case.” You said, not wanting to scare him but knowing you all needed the entire picture. “The only survivor, the only… prototype. Still alive. In my body is the source code for why these experiments or creations worked.”

“Wait…” Tony’s glare was fixed on you. “If the endgame is to copy your ability… What could they even use that for?” But it was a self-answering conversation. He was just thinking aloud: “…a soldier who could walk into a building and identify every weak point before the first shot is fired. Or worse, detect something we’ve built to be undetectable.”

“Why stop there, Tony?” Maria’s expression was serious and cold. “Why would there be only one? Hydra made a dozen back then, and they didn’t even have half the tech we have now.”

Bruce frowned deeper, his voice low: “If they’re that close, then we’re on borrowed time. They’ve already brainwashed Frazer, and now they’re playing with neural implants and synaptic overrides.”

“Exactly.” You nodded. “And they are so desperate, they don’t care if we know they’re out there now, because they’re so close they can taste it. Once they succeed, they won’t even fear the Avengers’ powers anymore.”

Tony exhaled sharply, his glare cold. “So, they’re building something. A super soldier, or an army of them—enhanced with tech that would let them see through just about anything.”

“And they’re not far from getting there. But for now, I’m still the key to unlocking that power.”

The room went quiet for a moment as the weight of your words settled in.

“Well, isn’t that just fantastic.” Tony applauded, the whole thing giving him a headache. “We’ve got super soldiers with x-ray vision on the horizon. And they’ve got you in their crosshairs.”

“So basically, we need to see what triggered this sudden desperation.” Bruce leaned forward, and his mind began to analyze: “We could scan for energy centralization around the globe. Human creation needs vast electromagnetic fields to power high-level bioengineering, especially when manipulating neural pathways at this scale. We need to track when or where all this is happening. But…”

His voice was tense.

“I’ve got a feeling they’re at the door already. Because whatever they’re building… they’re almost done.”

The way back home was silent. You could feel the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. Steve hadn’t said much since you left the command room. His usual warmth and quiet strength seemed overshadowed by something deeper—fear and anxiety, clunging over him like a dark shadow, haunting him at his heels.

You wanted to speak, but your mind was processing too. You were trying to remember everything you knew about yourself and your siblings, every memory, every piece of paper you’d seen in Hydra labs, every layer of analysis they’d made you go through.

The ride home was silent, his jaw tight, his gaze fixed on the road, even your house slash lab was after all the securities protocols and protective layers Maria had put, he was still alert, as if there were something in the grass and trees of the compound that would attack anytime. You could feel the weight of his thoughts, pressing down like a storm waiting to break.

"Babe there's no need…" You said as Steve moved around the house once you've arrived.

He checked every window, every door, securing them with an almost obsessive care. He paused at the front door, his hand lingering on the lock as if it was the only thing standing between you and the threat he couldn’t control.

You watched him, knowing that this wasn’t just about protecting you—it was about the fear within him.

"Steve, I'm here." You stopped him. Placing your hand on his back: "I'm here. With you."

He turned to you, his face pale. His eyes were haunted, wide with the kind of fear you rarely saw in him. He’s worried.

No, not worried, he’s terrified.

Without a word, he pulls you into his arms, wrapping them tightly around you like you might disappear if he let go. His grip is firm, desperate, as trying to shield you from an invisible danger that only he can see.

His breath is uneven, and you can feel the tension radiating from him. For a man who has faced down gods, monsters, the end of the universe, this kind of fear is new to him. It’s not the enemy outside he fears—it’s the thought of losing you, of failing to protect you. Again.

You don’t say anything at first. Words won’t soothe him. So you just hold him back, resting your head against his chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart. Slowly, you lifted your hands to gently press them on his neck, cupping his face to make him look at you.

"I'm here. And we will be ok." You say softly.

These words made him tremble. Will you? How can you be sure? How could he know? What if…

He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if he lost you.

“I won’t let them take you.” He said, as a sacred oath, tatooed in his soul. “I’m going to set up more protocols.” He muttered, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression one of steely resolve beneath the worry. “More security. I’ll have Tony upgrade the system. I’ll have guards outside. I’ll—”

You stayed still in his arms, feeling the rawness of his fear. His body was tense, and you could feel the tremble in his muscles, the weight of his panic pressing against you. He wasn’t just holding you for comfort—he was holding you like you were the last solid thing in a world that was quickly unraveling.

“Steve,” you interrupted softly, placing a hand on his chest. “You can’t protect me from everything.”

His eyes locked onto yours. “I can try. And I will.”

"Babe…this is the Avengers compound. This is…the safest place on earth. Or even the universe."

"It took only one protocol. One permission. Approved by me." He said with teeth clenched. "I gave him clearance. One, to bring Frazer in front of you, I won't ever, ever let that happen again." He said with conviction, his expressions somber as he remembered everything you went through.

But beneath his determination, you could see the cracks: the anxiety gnawing away at him, the overwhelming fear that no matter what he did, it might not be enough.

"Steve…"

“You don’t understand…” His voice is strained, thick with the fear that he hasn’t been able to shake since the moment he realized you were being targeted. “I’ve seen too much. I’ve lost too many. If something happens to you—”

He pauses.

“I can’t lose you.” He whispered, his voice barely audible. He was a man made of iron will and conviction, but here he stood, vulnerable and raw, stripped bare of all his usual defenses.

“Hey, hey, hey…Listen.” You said, holding his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I’m here. Right here. I’m not going anywhere. I'm here, with you, I'm safe.”

He looks at you and feels a pang of pain to your innocent even naive words.

Safe? Were you safe when he was on the other side of the wall and couldn't do anything but watch as you almost fell under Frazer's brainwash? Were you safe when you pressed a tranquilizer to yourself?

The memory of you in his arms, unconcious and slipping away was so vivid.

His hands tightened around you again at that thought, his grip shaking slightly. “I just... I can’t stop thinking about it.” He admitted, his voice strained. “What if I can’t get to you in time? What if something happens and I’m not there? What if…”

“I can’t take that risk.” He mutters, more to himself than to you. “ I can't. I won’t let anything happen to you. Not again.”

You pull back just enough to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest. His blue eyes are filled with a vulnerability you’ve only seen in rare moments— when the weight of the world is too much, even for him.

“Steve.” You say soft but firmly: “We’ll get through this. Together.”

For a long moment, he just looks at you, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to find reassurance in the depths of your gaze. Slowly, he exhales, but he doesn’t let go. That deep-rooted terror of losing you, isn't going away anytime soon.

His arms remain wrapped around you, protective and unyielding, as though he’s made a silent vow that nothing—no person, no secret organization, no force on Earth or beyond—will ever take you away from him.

If only that could be true.

THE End but TBC

Continue to Chapter 10: Eclipse

Alright I'm SO SORRY I'm late!! 2 Full time jobs really is consuming me!! I hope you enjoyed it!! Sooooo I have a really serious question RN, could you doooo me the favor to lmk your thoughts!!

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28

*can you let me know if I've missed anyone in the taglist? thanks <3

[skyward-floored]

Hi new fic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52017334/chapters/131545159

Summary:

“Twilight is that a cat?” the Champion asked loudly, and Twilight cringed as the argument stopped, everyone staring over at where Wind was sitting primly on his unhurt shoulder.

“Ah... right. Guess the cat’s out of the bag,” he mumbled.

Wind twitched his whiskers.

———

Wind has a run in with Twilight’s necklace. He does not appreciate this, especially since turning back proves to be... difficult.

At least he has claws.

...

Read the fic on ao3, or read it here under the cut :)

Wind came tumbling out of the portal with a shout, rolling down the hill he’d suddenly found himself on for several paces before he managed to stop his frantic descent.

Ow.

He spat a mouthful of grass out when he finally stopped moving, and looked around at where he’d ended up, noting the seabirds flying above his head with a spark of excitement. Maybe he was back home? Maybe he’d get to see Grandma and Aryll and Tetra and everyone again?!

Wind continued to look around, but his excitement faded as he noted the high cliffs and significant amount of land around.

Probably not his.

A sigh escaped him as he looked to his side, and he jumped a little, scrambling backwards from the cliff he suddenly realized he was sitting next to.

Yikes, glad I didn’t roll a few feet further, he thought with a gulp, taking note of the steep drop and rough ocean below. Even if he fell and managed to slow his descent, there didn’t appear to be anywhere to climb up out of the water.

A screech caught his attention, and Wind was abruptly reminded of the reason he’d fallen through the portal in the first place.

He and the other heroes had been in the middle of a battle when a portal had appeared, the dark lizalfos sneering at them before escaping through. Despite Warriors telling them all to stay away from it, Wind had ended up fighting closer, then been knocked through by moblin’s club.

Leaving him here, alone on a cliff with monsters charging towards him.

He scrambled to his feet as several bokoblins and a sizable group of miniblins ran towards him, and he grabbed the phantom sword, which had fortunately come with him.

Wind leveled his blade as the first monster lunged at him, and with a small flourish, he jumped around it and watched as it’s momentum took it straight over the cliff.

That guy obviously wasn’t black-blooded, he thought with a snort, listening to its squeals as it fell.

A distant splash came from below, and the other monsters howled in anger, Wind wiping some dirt from his cheek with a grin.

“Thought you could just shove me off, huh?” he smirked, leveling his blade. “You’ll have to do better than that, ye scurvy dogs!”

The monsters jabbered angrily and charged him all at once, but Wind easily knocked them backwards with a spin attack. He worked on maneuvering himself away from the cliff while he fought, trying to take out as many monsters as he could and not be flung over the edge, and made fairly steady progress.

Their numbers began to thin the longer Wind fought against them, and he only had a small gash on his arm and a few cuts to show for it. His injuries weren’t slowing him down at all as he continued to fight the monsters, and Wind felt a familiar sort of confidence pump through his veins the more of them he eradicated.

Wind even managed to knock a couple more monsters off the cliff nearby, though unfortunately none of the ones that had black blood dripping from cuts.

Those were the ones giving him the most trouble, dodging his thrusts and avoiding his attempts to outsmart them. Wind panted a little as he swiped away two miniblins, and looked around at the monsters. There were only a few left, all infected he was sure, based on the intelligent gleam in their dark eyes.

Well they’re not getting the better of me, black blood or not!

He twirled his sword and grinned at the monsters, but then a loud shout rang out from nearby.

Wind whirled around to see Twilight fly out of the portal, blood on his shoulder.

The rancher hit the ground with a grunt and began tumbling down the hill, much in the same way as Wind had done earlier. Twilight was a lot bigger than Wind though, and the sailor abruptly realized his momentum would likely send him right over the cliff, just like the earlier bokoblin.

Oh no, not on my watch!

Wind took out one of the bokoblins that was flagging, and grabbed in his pouch for his hookshot. Executing a backflip towards a nearby tree, he aimed at where Twilight was rolling, and fired.

He was too far away to use anything else to grab his fellow hero, and hoped he’d aimed well enough not to hurt Twilight too much.

The chain shot outwards as Wind fired, soaring straight for Twilight’s already-bloody shoulder, his pelt and a few other items having come lose in his fall. But the rancher had seen him fire the chain, and right as Wind thought either the hook would gouge right into him or he’d go flying over the cliff, Twilight reached out a hand and snatched the chain.

A relieved sigh escaped Wind’s lips, but as the slack caught up to him he nearly fell over, grunting with effort as he called on the strength of his power bracelets. Maybe Twilight needed to lay off Wild’s desserts, he weighed a ton.

A bokoblin’s screech reminded him he wasn’t alone, and Wind growled in annoyance. He gathered his strength and gave the chain a sharp heave, looping it around a nearby tree branch before turning to block a strike from one of the monsters.

It snarled, more ferocious of a sound than Wind was used to hearing from their species as it swiped at him with its sword, and he suddenly realized the other monsters had disappeared.

He looked around in suspicion as he fought against the bokoblin, wondering if maybe the monsters hadn’t been quite as smart as he’d thought.

Had they just... fallen off the cliff?

Twilight shouted nearby and Wind turned to see that no, the monsters had not fallen off the cliff, but rather taken advantage of Twilight’s somewhat vulnerable state. One of the bokoblins had jumped on Twilight’s back while the remaining miniblins jabbed at his legs with their pitchforks, leaving him weighed down and outnumbered.

Not to mention getting closer to the cliff again.

Wind frowned determinedly, and managed to stab the bokoblin that was bothering him through the middle, sending it to the dirt. As it exploded into dust, he ran towards Twilight, who was struggling to remove the bokoblin from his back while also keeping away the other monsters with his injured shoulder.

The rancher succeeded in kicking back a few that weren’t clinging to his neck, and Wind viciously swiped at them, sending multiple miniblins off the cliff with squealing cries. The other monsters made use of the distraction and a few of them split off, grabbing Twilight’s pelt with mischievous cackles.

Wind growled in frustration, unsure of whether to go after Twilight’s stuff or help Twilight himself, but then the rancher threw the bokoblin that was on his back off himself, and into the sea below.

Wind decided he was doing fine, and charged towards the miniblins, who squealed as they saw him approach. He cut down the one that had grabbed Twilight’s pelt, then ran after two others that had something gripped in their little claws.

As Wind swung at the miniblins, one of them wound it’s arm back and threw something into the air before Wind’s sword struck it, and Wind realized it was Twilight’s necklace.

It went flying right for the cliff, and Wind bolted, throwing himself forwards and just barely managing to snag the cord before it was lost forever in the ocean below. He let out a relieved phew, looking down at the waves. The immediate area had finally gone silent, and there wasn’t a monster in sight when Wind glanced back at Twilight to check.

He grinned to himself, and got to his knees. That was a close one, but both of them, and Twilight’s stuff, were safe.

And they’d won the battle!

Wind held the severed cord up to look at the strange little pendant, orange lines glowing in the faint sunshine.

It was a weird necklace, all spiky and glowing, and something about it felt... off. But Twilight always said he didn’t really like magic, so it must just be a cool rock or something.

Wind got to his feet, still admiring the strange necklace, then set it in his palm to take back to Twilight.

“Sailor no!”

The warning came mere seconds too late.

The moment the pendant touched Wind’s skin, a wave of intense pain shot through him, and he yelped in surprise as he fell back to the ground, black flecking in his vision.

Twilight shouted nearby and Wind tried to reply, but something in his very being seemed to twist, making a response impossible.

Magic flowed through him and around him, bones shifted inside of him, inside out and upside down as another cry was ripped from his throat that didn’t sound right at all and the world suddenly felt like it was falling away—

Darkness overcame him and he knew no more.

(...)

Wind came back to himself slowly.

Loud noises echoed around him, sharp but fuzzy at the same time, and his dizzied brain couldn’t really focus on them when he tried. Especially due to the deep ache that seemed to have settled in every single bone in his body, weighing him down.

Wind tried to raise his head, but the ache increased sharply, and he let it fall with a wince.

A groan escaped him, but the sound that came out of his mouth was not what he expected at all: a strange grumble that didn’t sound even remotely hylian, with a squeaky note to it.

That came from me?

Something cold settled into Wind’s stomach at the strange noise he’d made, and he struggled to open his eyes, blinking up at the concerned (and slightly panicked) face of Twilight.

But something about the rancher seemed... off.

Like, really off.

Twilight tried to give him a smile, but the edges were thin, and despite how strange his vision was (had he hit his head? That would explain why everything sounded weird too—) Wind could tell he was trying not to panic.

Which admittedly, rather made him want to panic, because Twilight never panicked and if he was panicking over what happened to Wind than it must be bad—

“Link, just stay calm, okay?” Twilight said, but despite his even tone of voice, Wind only felt his panic grow at the uncertainty of what had just happened. “You’re okay, I promise, just take it slow.”

Wind tried to sit up then, but his balance was all off and he fell right back down, breathing shakily as he tried desperately to keep calm.

“What’s going on Twilight? What happened to me?!” he cried, or at least tried to.

Instead of words though, all that came out of his mouth were a serious of panicked meows.

Wind slammed his mouth shut, so utterly shocked that it took him a moment to realize that his mouth didn’t feel right either. Sharp teeth pricked against the inside of his lips, and his tongue felt bumpy, sort of like the sensation of sand on bare feet.

The realization of what happened, as unbelievable as it was, suddenly slammed into Wind like a hurricane, and he stared down at the creamy-yellow paws that had once been his feet.

He was a cat.

Somehow he’d been turned into a cat!

Twilight might’ve been speaking again, but Wind was too busy trying to get a good look at himself, taking in his windswept fur and the whiskers he could feel on his face. He even had a tail, stuck right onto his rear end.

A breeze hit his face, brushing his fur and whiskers, and the feel of it was all wrong, so wrong, everything about himself just felt wrong wrong wrong—

Something touched his head, and Wind was so high-strung from shock and leftover panic that he jumped (though it was more of a stumble) backwards, a startled hiss coming from his mouth.

“Wind whoa, I’m not going to hurt you,” Twilight soothed, and Wind realized the rancher had been the one to touch him, probably trying to calm him down.

He swallowed, and managed to ease himself back down, feeling his ears flatten in embarrassment. He tried to give Twilight an apologetic look, and the rancher seemed to understand, giving him a small smile. The hand was carefully extended towards him again, and this time Wind let Twilight run a soothing hand through his fur.

If he closed his eyes and ignored how the rancher’s hand was currently bigger than his head, he could almost imagine Twilight was just giving his hair a fond ruffle.

“Sorry sailor, I shouldn’t have startled you,” Twilight said. “I’m... I’m so sorry this happened,” he said more quietly, looking frustrated at himself. “I should’ve warned you not to touch the pendant.”

Wind blinked at him, suddenly suspicious of why Twilight had a pendant that turned people into cats anyway. What use was that?! And he’d never even seen Twilight use it to turn into a cat before. Plus Twilight didn’t like magic, especially not dark magic.

What was going on here?

“I guess you deserve an explanation,” the rancher sighed, not following his train of thought. “This... it’s leftover magic from my journey. It was originally a curse, but with the help of the Master Sword I was able to use it for my own advantage. It... allows me to become the animal that aligns most closely with my spirit, which...”

Twilight paused, looking a little nervous.

“Which is, well... a wolf.”

Wind blinked, then the pieces of the puzzle clicked and his tail stood straight up in shock.

Twilight was Wolfie!

Wind yowled in equal surprise and excitement, startling himself a little at the sound that came out of his lungs, but it was mostly overcome by his excitement.

Twilight being Wolfie made so much sense, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before— looking back it was so obvious and...

...and why hadn’t Twilight told them?

Twilight seemed to figure out the meaning of his yowling well enough, and scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I’m... Wolfie. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I wasn’t sure how everyone would take it, this magic isn’t completely... light,” he said awkwardly.

Wind thought back to the agony that had stretched and shifted his bones only a little while ago, twisting him into a form that was very much not his own, and shivered a little. He could see how it wasn’t exactly light magic.

But despite how achy and weird Wind felt, he didn’t feel like the magic that was in him now was actively malicious. It had changed him, but it had only done that, and apart from the slight pulse of it he could feel in his one paw, it wasn’t doing anything more to him as far as he could tell.

Twilight obviously didn’t mean any harm by it, and used the magic a lot with no bad or evil side effects or anything.

Wind shrugged, as much as he could as a cat, then stood up with a wobble, carefully testing each paw before trying to walk with it. He shakily made his way over to Twilight, then bonked his head against his knee with a small mrrow.

He didn’t trust the magic that had changed him. But he did trust Twilight.

Twilight huffed out a laugh at the gesture, and nodded at him, looking relieved at his acceptance. Wind tried his best to smile back, and felt a little better overall.

Not great though. Just better.

“Okay, our next goal is to find out where the others are, and get the Master Sword from Sky so we can fix you,” Twilight said with a thoughtful frown. “It’s the only way to get you back; when this happened to Legend, not even any of his crazy items were enough.”

Wind shot Twilight a wide-eyed look, and the rancher chuckled a little.

“Yeah, this happened to our veteran. He’d been transformed into an animal before though, so he wasn’t quite as shocked. I never would have expected he’d be bright pink, though.”

That must be why his hair turned pink that one night! Wind realized with a swell of glee, then let out a small mrrow of amusement. He couldn’t imagine how terrible Legend must have been as a little pink cat! ...unless he’d been a wolf like Twilight?

He’d have to add that to his rapidly growing list of ‘things to ask once he got his regular mouth back.’

“Right, so let’s get going,” Twilight said, dusting off his pants. “The portal closed after I fell through, so the others must be elsewhere. Hopefully they came through and we can find Sky quickly, and we won’t have to explain Wolfie to everyone...”

The rancher trailed off, looking a little anxious, and Wind tilted his head, studying him.

So that was why Twilight hadn’t told anybody. He must be afraid of what they would think of him being the random wolf that appeared and helped them out sometimes, and using a dark magic crystal thing to transform into him.

But the others would understand... wouldn’t they?

Wind caught Twilight’s attention and meowed at him, trying to look encouraging. Twilight looked down at him and snorted, shaking his head.

“I have no clue what you just said sailor. But thanks.”

Wind twitched his whiskers in amusement, and watched as Twilight stood up, holding his arm and grimacing a little. The sailor frowned, and when Twilight looked at him he meowed pointedly, looking at the blood staining his tunic.

He could smell the metallic scent in the air, sharper then normal, and it sure looked like a lot of blood to him.

“I’m fine sailor, it’s just a scratch. And I don’t have any potions, so there’s nothing I can do,” Twilight shrugged, wiping blood off his sword before sheathing it. “I’ll clean it once we find the others. I’ll be okay ‘til then.”

Twilight wandered a little ways up the hill in order to retrieve his pelt and a few other items he’d dropped before Wind could try to argue further, and Wind let out a small huff, then teetered after him, trying to get used to his new legs.

It wasn’t easy. He felt as unsteady as when he’d been sailing for weeks on end and finally gotten back to land, his paws wobbly and uncooperative underneath him. He was not used to four legs to deal with, and was unable to help the growl that rose in his throat as he tripped, tail lashing in annoyance.

How could he be helpful when he could barely walk?

Twilight came back to his side then, fully geared up, and Wind made an extra effort not to appear affected by his cumbersome paws. Twilight’s sharp eyes noticed immediately though, and he kneeled down next to him, offering a hand.

“I think you should ride with me for the time being sailor,” he said gently, wincing as Wind tripped again. “Just so we’ll make quicker ground.”

Wind lashed his tail. He could walk plenty fast!

To prove his point, he took a confident step forward, making an extra effort not to trip. But he was so focused on his feet, he forgot to pay attention to the ground, and tripped on a pebble and fell flat on his face.

Twilight winced, then offered his hand again, which Wind looked at grumpily before stumbling over to it.

Twilight gently scooped him up and placed him up on his shoulder, and Wind dug his claws into his pelt, figuring out how to comfortably sit. He finally nestled into a good spot, and Twilight began to move, back up the hill and into the forest beyond.

Wind looked behind them and watched the sea disappear behind the trees, and sighed to himself as a bit of wind blew past his whiskers.

This day was not going the way he’d thought it would.

[voltronisanobsession]

Ok I know I’ve been gone for over a month BUT HEAR ME OUT GUYS‼️

I’ve been going through this phrase where I’m reading a lot of yandere content rn (I gobble that shit UP), and idk the toxicity of it all is giving me a lot of inspo lowkey💀

Like imagine a manipulative reader. HEAR ME OUUUTT

No one knows it but reader is a secret spy at camp half blood (love this trope) and grows super close to Percy. Like they grow close really quickly, you show him your deepest secrets and whatnot to gain his trust and he doesn’t even know it.

Percy shares his own secrets and experiences with you because he feels so connected to you!! It’s on a whole different level and he can’t help but slowly fall for you. And you know this. As much as it hurts you (or doesn’t) to gain the trust of this boy who’s obviously fallen for you, you know you gotta do your job.

You begin to know him on such a deep level and you use it to your advantage. You sway and manipulate any choices he has to make.

Im still on the first few chapters of heroes of Olympus so I still don’t know the plot to it sorry💀 so let’s just say reader is manipulating Percy for their own personal gain, or like planning to sell any information they gain from him to monsters, who knows.

Percy has no clue what’s so ever, but Annabeth can sense something’s off with you. The way you cling to Percy, almost like a leech, as her suspicious.

And when she confronts you, tears. Tears EVERYWHERE. And Percy falls for them. He falls for your crocodile tears because it physically HURTS him to see you crying.

He would console you, quickly muttering sweet nothings as he rubs your arms in order to ‘calm’ you down, hugging you, not knowing the dark look in your eyes as you stare down Annabeth.

Lowkey you would start pitting him against everyone around camp. Lying to him by saying how there’s nasty rumors going around about you made by some of the campers. You’re basically the devil on his shoulder, whispering into his ears exaggerated lies and deception.

And Percy believes everything you say! Why? Because he’s too down bad. This dude practically worships the ground you walk on, so when you slowly start influencing the decisions he makes, he doesn’t question it.

He believes that youre only trying to help him😭 that you only want what’s best for him so he blindly trusts your judgement.

He trusts you sm that he tells you everything you ask about. And if it’s after he went into the Styx river, he’ll even tell you where his weakness. his WEAKNESS

Like bro. You even start to realize that you’ve dragged yourself too deep into what you thought was a game. People and monsters would kill to have this information, you could get killed if anyone found out you knew.

You start feeling guilty for taking advantage of Percy. I mean, he willingly told you the one thing that can kill him, it’s such a big weight on your shoulders now that you can’t help the shame from creeping on you.

Idk, this reader seems like the type to run from their problems, so they most likely do. Over the course of a night, you disappear, cutting all contact with Percy, the camp, everything. You would leave nothing but a short and curt note to him and maybe even Annabeth.

‘Percy, I’m so sorry for lying to you. You didn’t see it but Annabeth did. I’m sorry. -y/n’

And that’s it. Percy would be so hurt and confused, betrayed when he finds out everything. He wants to believe that it’s some sick joke but this is his reality.

He gave you all of him and you just threw it on the ground and crushed it beneath your feet. You quite literally ripped this poor dudes heart straight of his chest with zero remorse, how could you do that to him bro?💀💀💀

He definitely holds some kind of grudge against you. If y’all ever cross paths again, MAJOORR yikes.😬😬 after you leave, Percy grows way more guarded and defensive when meeting new people.

Homeboy does not wanna be taken advantage of again after you💀

[smeagol-on-my-deagol]

PART 3

reading 'the secret history' by donna tartt for the first time, here are my thoughts after reading through chapter 3:

[CONTAINS SPOILERS] obviously

— jesus fucking christ richard

— i hate that this chapter not only makes me feel bad for richard, but also makes me actively like henry (which like yikes, my richard-ification era)

— i feel like richard gets roped into the murder plot when he realizes that it'll create an "opening" in the group for him

— cause he still feels like an outsider to me despite spending time mostly with the greek class, but also that could be on purpose to try to separate himself from the fact that he helped/participated in murdering a dude

— the scenes with him looking over the river like "man it would be horrible to fall, to die that way" like ugh

— FUCK bunny corcoran

— trying to avoid being lured into the trap of feeling like they were slightly justified in killing their friend because as much as bunny sucks, i do realize he did not deserve to be murdered

— henry winter, standing in the unheated purple warehouse with a giant hole in the ceiling that richard spent nearly an entire vermont winter in: damn bitch you live like this??

— henry's middle name is MARCHBANKS ????

— also he has a photo of julian on his closet door?? yikes man

— henry not knowing about the moon landing, then hardly knowing about marilyn monroe

— i am shocked at how shocked the twins were last chapter that richard picked up on henry being irritated with bunny like what

— i wonder what francis and henry were plotting at the end,,, second thoughts on murder perhaps??

— does richard know anything about camilla's personality as a separate entity from the group or as more than just a girl he spends time around??

— richard papen they could never make me like you

— no but seriously, i am both charmed by all of the characters and horrifyingly put off by them

— henry and bunny got divorced in italy

[edit to add one more thing]

— why does everyone want richard soooo bad??

[stusbunker]

Spotless: En Cédant

Chapter Twenty Two

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Lee, Bobby, Sam, Annie, Kevin (mentioned)

Word Count: 2541

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, Aromantic Bela, more hints at bisexual Dean, unbeta'd

A/N: Dean's magazine interview is released and he asks a question he regrets.

Series Masterlist

Dean walked into the auditorium they’d been leasing for rehearsals with a gas station coffee and what John would have called a ‘piss-poor’ attitude. Sam had stayed over at Madison’s and gotten his own way to their last pre-tour play through. It was one of those rare mornings where their place felt too big, and Dean couldn’t kick the feeling that something was missing in his daily life. But it was too early for a pity party and too late to turn around and play hookey.

Not that he’d even dare that on this tour, not this close to showtime.

The energy in the hall did little to ease Dean’s annoyance, filled with quiet conspiring. Each person he nodded at seemed to be hiding a smirk or trying not to laugh out loud. Once he got to Lee, he’d had enough.

“Okay, what the fuck is with everybody today?”

Lee shook his head. “You don’t know, you poor bastard. Have you seen Trouble yet?”

“No— whyyyy?” Dean scanned the room littered with roadies and band members, lounging over the stage and the first rows of seats. 

“Look, man, it’s easier to show you than tell you.” Lee reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rolled up magazine, which was not what he was expecting. His sources of embarrassment primarily spread online these days.

But then he looked down and saw his own smug face staring back at him.

“Holy shit,” Dean said in a whisper.

“She’s got like a whole box of these, everybody’s read it or is currently reading it. It’s almost like you’re famous or inspirational or some shit.”

“Some shit is more like it,” Dean muttered and flipped to the page number next to the tagline, ‘Phantom Traveler’s frontman Rides the Road to Redemption’.

“Hey! Get your own!” Lee snatched the magazine out of his hand before he could get past the shot of him in Baby’s driver’s seat, eyebrows furrowed in the side view mirror.

“You sonuvabitch,” Dean threatened and went to steal it back when Bobby appeared with his ruffled mustache of disapproval.

“Okay, Fabio, go find Trouble, she’s got a whole case of those you’re supposed to sign before we get started.”

Dean wiped his face with his palm and braced himself for a long ass day. “Okay, any idea where she is?”

“First dressing room,” Bobby replied. “Don’t take too long, we want to run through some old stuff with Kevin so Charlie can plan out some lightwork with it, then we need to talk setlists for this weekend.”

“Yeah, of course, uh, I’ll be right back,” Dean said, turning to head to the pit. He turned and added over his shoulder. “At least I hope so.”

It was worse than Dean thought, but somehow also better than he’d expected from Meg.

Sam sat backwards on an old makeup stool as he read the article out loud, “‘even his timeless good looks couldn’t save him from the storm of controversy he unleashed after punching out photographer, Jared Bender, alienating his keyboardist and lifelong friend, Cas Novak to the point of leaving the band, and forcing his manager and mentor, Bobby Singer, to cancel their last North American tour with two months left.’”

Sam made a visible ‘yikes’ face and continued on as you listened, moving stacks of magazines around into manageable piles along the counter. 

“‘The man sitting across from me was neither the cocky dipshit I interviewed six years ago, nor was he the unstable egomaniac who caused those around him to walk on eggshells during their last tour. He was oddly zen, blunt as ever, and refreshingly humble.’---- Ha! Christ, did you pay her off?!” 

Dean decided he’d heard enough and cleared his throat. You froze and turned, but Sam just grinned wolfishly at him through the old spotted mirror, completely unsorry about being caught.

“There you are! Hot off the presses, man.” Sam flipped the copy he was reading towards Dean, which he caught against his chest with his free hand.

“Yeah, thanks,” Dean grunted, splashing some of his coffee as he stopped the magazine from falling to the floor. “How bad is it?”

You chuckled. “It’s not— well, for starters, it’s the freakin’ cover! I was not— she was being purposely vague about the whole thing, even which issue it was going to be— I am kind of in shock still.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Dean stared at the cover, unsure if he dared read it with an audience. After the silence got too heavy, he buried his own sick curiosity and looked at you to keep busy. “So, Bobby said you’ve got work for me?”

Dean smiled too late, catching you entirely deflate from his terrible segue.

“Uh— yeah, it’s only 100 copies. We’re sending them out to bundle with tickets for radio stations in every city.”

Dean walked across the small room, set down his coffee beside Sam’s rumpled magazine, and picked up one of the metallic Sharpies you had left out. “You sure they want just me signing these?”

“Dude— none of us are in any of the pictures. And besides just verifying some details, she didn’t interview any of us.”

Dean spun on his heel. “She asked you if I was lying about stuff?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t like that— it was more of her trying to catch you in consistencies.”

Dean raised his eyebrows at how that was exactly what he had said.

Sam huffed and started rambling. “I mean it was about the tone of the album and the cohesiveness. It wasn’t bad, God, okay?!”

“You’re not really reassuring me here, Sammy.”

“Look, I’m gonna go set up.” Sam stood up. “But, we’ll talk it out once you’ve read it, okay? Just get these signed, so we can figure out everything upstairs. Maybe then Bobby doesn’t have an aneurysm.”

“We can only hope,” you tucked on, which took the words out of Dean’s mouth.

Dean nodded, sighed, and popped off the cap of the marker. “Alright, let’s do this.”

Sitting around haphazardly sprawled across the theater seats, the band and immediate support personnel plotted the first stretch of the tour. Dates were set, venues, everything important, but the minutia had to be finalized so everyone knew where to be and when.

“We’re doing in studio stops with stations here and Vegas. But we are doing phone in interviews with San Diego, Phoenix and Albuquerque. We’ll talk more, but I think we’ve got stuff lined up once we hit Texas,” you rattled off to the group, pen in hand, laptop on your lap and phone in hand.

Bobby had his day planner open on his lap and Annie added things into her phone as you went. Dean kept his calendar app open, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary yet. Once the tour got underway, things got easier with the practiced dance, but until then he was jittery and brooding.

He hated the build up, but knew it’d be over soon.

“Dean— we gotta talk later, figure out when Bela will need passes. That goes for everyone, please let me know who you’re bringing each night so I can submit the names to each venue.”

“How is that your job on top of everything else?” Bobby asked.

“You want to do it?” You countered, coyly.

Everyone laughed. Lee threw a balled up receipt at the back of Dean’s head, but he just flipped him off.

“Need to get you an assistant,” Bobby muttered, but Dean didn’t think it was a bad idea. 

The meeting continued, plans for press stops and casual drop ins for the first leg were cemented with your approval. The band’s image meant everything to you, not just because it was your job, Dean knew it was a deep seated loyalty and faith in them, both as individuals and as a unit, a family. You worked harder for them than any mere publicist would. 

And that genuineness came through to the fans. 

Then that respect and admiration was reciprocated. Sure, there were ones who were closer to obsessed than others, but even Becky, the fanclub president, had cooled down over the years. Things might get awkward amongst the masses, but it wasn’t dangerous. And it had been awhile since anybody had asked for a lock of his hair during an autograph session. 

He didn’t miss that.

Dean switched apps and snapped some quick shots of the group from where he sat, dazed and tired from the meeting, but still together and looking good. He typed a quick caption to the post: ‘Can’t wait to see y’all again soon, we’re back baby.’ He even remembered to tag the band’s account before posting. But he knew you’d go through and add hashtags and pin people’s accounts to their faces in each shot, eventually.

For now, he was just grateful that he was still doing what he loved with his people.

Not much later, Bobby called it and everybody agreed to meet at Elizabeth’s. After securing all the equipment and hugging Charlie goodbye, Dean helped you haul the boxes of magazines to Bobby’s truck to be mailed out later.

“You want to ride with us? Got that scheduling stuff to hammer out anyway,” Dean cleared his throat and nodded towards Baby on the far edge of the parking ramp.

“Uh, Sam left with Kevin, but yeah,” you said, looking over to Bobby and Annie. “See you guys there?”

“Sounds good,” Annie said.

“Drive safe,” Bobby warned and held the door open for his wife.

Dean felt weird with his empty hands and you bent over with your bag and your laptop case, but you seemed to manage. “How are you feeling about things? How long we got before shit explodes with that article?”

You hummed in estimation, “about nine hours? East Coast will get to it first so it’s gonna be another early day.” 

“Brutal.”

“It will keep me busy, but it will be a good busy. I’m sure of it,” you promised.

Dean huffed. “If you say so.”

He unlocked the passenger side door and held it open for you, the familiar creak in the hinge the only sound in the cement tomb of the parking garage. But it didn’t feel creepy, it felt nice to be alone and out at night. With you.

He let you drag your stuff into the footwell and made sure not to get your sweater caught in the door as he closed it. He rounded the front bumper and got into his spot. “Alrighty, let’s go get stuck in traffic for an hour.”

You smiled at him, without looking up from swiping through your phone.

“You posted?!” you shrieked in surprise not five minutes later.

“With my own two thumbs and everything,” Dean teased back.

“They are loving this.--- Dean, it’s already got like over a thousand comments.”

Hey, he could do the internet charm, when he wanted to.

“What are they sayin’? They pumped to see us live?” 

“Definitely! And then the usual: speculation on Lee and Pam, people begging you to father their children—” you laugh fondly, like at a child showing off a well known skill. “Kevin is starting to get a sort of following, and the younger crowd brings more enthusiasm. Plus, people are already speculating how long during each set before Sam loses his shirt.”

Dean cackled. “Sweaty bastard, even with all the box fans.”

He pulled them onto the freeway and wedged in where he could amongst the chaos, careful to leave breathing room for his girl.

“When you’re all done with that, we can talk Bela at the shows. I’m guessing you meant you want her backstage and easily seen from the audience and all that?”

“Pretty much, but also what works around what she’s doing. She can’t exactly tour with you guys, but we gotta make it look like she’s doing her damndest to.”

You spent a few minutes going through your notifications while Dean turned up the radio a bit to keep him occupied through the stop and go traffic. Must be a game somewhere, he thought passingly.

“So, uh—- how much longer do you think we gotta do this act? Seems like I’m looking pretty good these days in the eyes of the public. And if you’re sure Meg’s article will be good press—”

You put down your phone and turned on the bench seat to lean your arm along the back of it, putting Dean entirely in your focus. He swallowed and looked back at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Where’s this coming from? I thought it was working out good with Bela?” You were trying for neutral, he could feel it. But you were upset. Or alarmed at least.

“It is— just not really sustainable for the long run. Eventually she’s gonna find somebody she actually wants to date and I’m gonna be gone for like the next year.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Bela’s aromantic, Dean. She isn’t interested in relationships at all.”

“Wait— what? That’s a thing? Chicks do that?”

You glared at him. Shit.

He licked his lips and wiped his palm on the thigh of his jeans. “Okay, but people probably know that, right?”

“Yeah, but people have a way of thinking that eventually she’s gonna meet the right person and ‘settle down’.”

Dean groaned. “Are we playing up a shitty stereotype? Am I being a bad ally?”

You rolled your eyes. “Dean, shut up. You didn’t know, which I find odd, but I’ll talk to Bela about that.---- And we’re not getting graded on your allyship, because frankly that is an entirely different conversation.”

Dean closed his eyes against the accusation but got back into driver mode quick enough to remain safe. He sighed.

“Anyway, I was just curious if there is a timeline or an escape clause or something when the label won’t cut off my nuts for being officially single again.”

You turned back to face the dashboard and picked your phone back up. “I cannot believe you can’t keep it in your pants for one tour, Dean. Groupies and fucking syphilis boosters cannot be that fun.”

Dean swerved, but righted the car. 

“HEY! Nobody said anything about wanting to get my dick wet! I was just asking a question. You don’t gotta be shitty about it.”

Dean swallowed back his retort about not needing easy hook ups because Bela was more than on board for helping fill that particular outlet, but he had already dug himself into a hole tonight.

He inhaled and worked on calming himself down. He realized he was more hurt than anything, that that’s where your mind went for his reasoning. 

That was how you saw him.

He wasn’t a dog, not anymore at least. And if he had been for the few years after Jo’s death, it was something he had to get himself through. He should not feel ashamed for enjoying life. 

But apparently somewhere along the line you’d grown a superiority complex.

Your opinion shouldn’t matter. He only had to answer to himself at the end of the day. But shouldn’t didn’t equal doesn’t.

Which made him feel even more pathetic.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

Chapter 23: Furia

[the-bar-sinister]

Black Butler read through Day 1, (chapters 1-15) first impressions:

🖤 the art and aesthetic, which is what drew me to the manga in the first place is absolutely fucking gorgeous. Drop dead gorgeous. I've been clipping panels to save from basically every chapter.

🖤 Ciel is like if you smooshed Kyoko Kirigiri and Donquixote Doflamingo into one shota. Yikes! I love him. He's very relatable.

🖤 All of the characters are really compelling and interesting, more so than I expected. I knew Grelle through popculture osmosis and didn't expect to like her particularly but I ended up being a huge fan. Psycho mommy <3. Ciel's aunt Francis I'd never seen before, but expected when she was introduced not to like her just due to her character archetype (strict aristocrat lady). Then I spent the entire chapter falling madly in love with her. Wow, seriously reminded me that I was bisexual, holy shit <3

🖤 Sebastian comments on Ciel getting kidnapped a lot and yeah-- there's a lot of hot whump in this manga (at least through chapter 15) and I'm absolutely here for it. I didn't exactly know that was the case, and I'm not complaining at all.

🖤 The manga makes me want tea! I'm going to brew some with the good earl grey tea leaves that we have tonight.

🖤 So far in terms of ships its really just sebaciel. I mean the whole manga is based around their relationship and the inherent romance/eroticism of it, so there's no way I'm NOT gonna ship it. We'll see if I end up with any other ships. There was a page I was absolutely shocked by in chapter 8 where it's framed to look like the two of them are having sex like, NOT subtle. Wow. Very hot.

🖤 Undertaker is adorable and I want to see more of him.

🖤 In general the manga so far is basically peak gothic romance genre. I'm really impressed with how drippingly romanticized every inch of it is, especially the violence and the underworld, as well as the obvious hierarchy eroticism going on. Good stuff.

can't wait to read more.

[fiveredlights]

the oversharement of the author: old habits die screaming (daniel team principal au) edition

welcome back to another edition of five yaps on for a million words about their own fic. this time with pictures! below is me discussing everything and anything, deleted scenes, as well as an insight into what the css/html looked like and those racing graphics that gave me five grey hairs by the end!

THE PLOT

Matthew and Callan (and the many parallels)

You can’t ask me (a Maxiel writer) to create original characters and not have them mimic Max and Daniel. Like. I think it’s physically impossible.

First chapter I did keep it very chill, lowkey because I was very worried about the reception of Matthew and Callan but luckily it seems like most people enjoy them, so I really unleashed their parallels in the rest of the story.

A couple of ways this was done. Easiest one was their drivers number. I didn’t wanna do 3 & 33, so I took the fact that Maxiel’s numbers were 30 apart and applied that instead= 41 & 71. And obviously they had their own Baku 2018 moment because it wouldn’t be a fiveredlights universe if I didn’t make someone Baku.

Originally it was going to be Callan moving to Red Bull and Matthew staying but then I thought about it. I wanted balance for both of them and Callan was always going to win in Abu Dhabi, so it felt like I was leaving them on uneven footing. So then I went okay, reread what I had posted and thought it made more sense for Matthew to go to Red Bull. And with Callan’s win it also gives him that negotiating power with other teams, he could and he does look into other teams. This next part wasn’t included because it just didn’t fit the timeline, but is all canonical.

In the first few races of 2031 Red Bull offers Callan the other Red Bull seat, as Yuki moves to Aston for the 2032 season. He declines the offer and moves to Mercedes instead :)

Matthew is obviously flabbergasted and does not understand why Callan declined (we all know why*—Daniel especially knows why) and then we get this lovely period of Matthew and Callan ignoring each other for a good couple months. I assume Mattllan nation are very distraught and Maxiel nation are like yeah we’ve been through this before and it lasted for YEARS. Good luck!

Isn’t that canonically so fun!

[*Callan declines Red Bull’s offer for a number of reasons he tells himself that make total and logical sense and he’s absolutely not hiding the fact he values his relationship with Matthew over a potential championship winning team. He’s not doing that. Also who’s to say Mercedes aren’t gonna win the championship. Have you seen how Red Bull are moving in this universe? I still haven’t forgotten about The Great Red Bull Second Half of the 2028 Season Flop!]

(Also the news drops in the morning, like at 7am on a Thursday press day, race before summer break. Callan’s already inside the Red Bull energy station to hide from everyone named Matthew Evans-Campbell because he didn’t listen to Daniel and Max when they said he should tell Matthew before it’s announced. Matthew has been operating under the assumption that Callan automatically said yes when RBR asked, and that this long gap was for all the boring contract stuff. Yikes.

At 7:41 am the door swings open and Callan is dealt with by a very pissed off Matthew, they have a whole argument loud enough for basically the whole building to hear. Luckily because it is 7:41 am, no one is in except for Daniel who’s having a lovely oat latte with a side of his drivers having a relationship-altering argument in the background. He wants Monza 2028 back.)

Enchanté x MV33

I made the first logo on June 4. I had Canva and a dream. I was rereading glitter on the floor and forgot I had included an Enchanté graphic and probably wanted to play more with that idea. The whole website idea is 90% from this web illustrated multimedia series called Heroverse by illustraice on IG I read years ago. It basically involved readers using codes and clues to unlock a website that moved the plot forward. Like this series changed my brain chemistry on how stories could be told. Other 10% comes from Taylor Swift. Because of course it does. Imagine if I made you do a version of the 1989 TV vaults to get the password. You’re lucky I don’t know how to make an actual website (yet). I was hesitant because I wasn’t sure if real Daniel would actually do a collaboration like this but then RicAllen dropped and I was like oh. He’s making a company produce a little RPF short film to sell headphones and merchandise. Then it was full steam ahead.

Here’s the progression of how we went from blank page to the final enchante drop:

For the longest time it was only going to be one item shown (the email graphic) but then I thought I should put the website and then I had make two more other shirts. Should be three, but my brain ran out of ideas. The tulip & rose is a little nod to takes one to know one — that au daniel has the two matching tattoos on his hand. Once again, you will be taking intertextuality out of my cold dead soul. 

DELETED PLOTLINES: 

Daniel back to Red Bull (again, again)

The biggest one for me was Daniel returning back to Red Bull in 2031 as team principal. I briefly considered it for a couple days, but then I chose against it. I mean I had Daniel say it in the fic, he has no desire to go to Red Bull as a TP or other senior management. There’s a winning expectation there—and not that RB doesn’t—but I think he enjoys the midfield fight a little bit more. 

Being TP means going up against Mercedes, McLaren and Ferrari and whilst I think he would be fine, those are still legacy teams who’s TP’s are vastly more experienced than he is. Remember, in 2031 it’s still only his sixth year leading a racing team and fourth year in F1. 

I think he enjoys working with the younger, less experienced-ish drivers. Clearly he’s hugely influential and I think his management style just works better within RB’s environment. 

Also you want to make me move Max and Daniel back to England? They just broke through the screen and started talking about how great Faenza and Monaco are. 

Callan’s new partner

So I wrote at the end of Ch4 that I had deleted texts between Callan, Matthew and Daniel over Matthew finding out Callan had a new partner. Lots (I say lots, like three people) were mildly upset that I cut it (I get it, I would be upset too) but I felt like a lot of Matthew and Callan’s Secret Third Thing relationship was very slowly starting to be developed off screen. Also no matter how many times they insist, this is not your story! Now that we know Callan never makes it to Red Bull I give it like another couple years until they pull their heads out of their asses.

ALL THE DELETED SCENES:

The many versions of the Max Monza 2028 call with Daniel

I think I rewrote this scene at least thirty times. It was going to be over texts. Then calls. Then texts again. I gave up at the end.

ATTEMPT ONE: 

Hey. How are you going with the debrief?

Nope. 

You laugh, but every time I try to bring it up they just start going at each other. They’ve turned into toddlers, honestly—I can’t. Max, seriously I don’t think it’s Matthew and Callan in front of me right now. 

How bad are we talking? Like us bad or worse? 

What’s worse than us? 

Lewis and Britney. 

I don’t know, somewhere in between. I knew something was up with them. Fuck. I should’ve pushed. 

Daniel. You know what it is like for your team principal to try and push the relationship with your teammate too much.

I just don’t get why they’re so pissed off at each other. Fuck. I knew something was up too, Matthew said something about Callan not liking him. 

Callan? Not liking Matthew? I don’t think that’s physically possible. 

Daniel. 

Yeah? 

Do you think they’re dating? 

What?! 

Max. Max. Why would you say that?

[00:02:33]

You’ll be okay Daniel. 

How are you always so sure that I’m going to be okay? 

Because you’re Daniel. I don’t—you’re you. I think you always try and do good in every situation.

ATTEMPT TWO: 

Max

7 Sep 2028 at 5:47pm

I got that spaghetti you like waiting for you when you come back 

And your pizza

Thank you

You are godsend

How’s debrief going? 

Not well

I understand why the team acted like they wanted our heads in the ground after Baku 

I am so close to just leaving but I can’t because I run this team

I’m going insane

Are they talking at least? 

Yeah

In like one word increments

It’s like watching the past versions of ourselves Max it’s so weird

Like I feel like I have to double check they’re JUST friends now otherwise I’m in a whole other shit

Does it look like I’m qualified for couples counselling

Don’t answer that I can see you typing Max I know the answer is no

Well at least you are honest

The fact it took us ten years to get together shows I should not be any authority on relationships like ever

Like can someone invent time travel to tell 2018 Daniel to just pull his head out of his ass and tell him 2018 Max really was looking back?? Or 2024 Daniel to actually listen to what 2024 Max was saying and maybe you should invite him to your farm

Okay Daniel one problem at a time please my brain doesn’t have the capacity for two things right now

That is so not what you were saying last night

Daniel

Yep sorry serious team principal Daniel is talking

Daniel you will be okay

It will be okay

I sure hope so because it turns out I quite like my job and I do not want to be fired 

I just heard a bang I really hope they haven’t managed to punch a wall through their rooms or something

Great I’m go check that my drivers aren’t secretly dating or something but I will hopefully see you soon

Please don’t eat my pizza

🙄

Good luck 

Team Red Bull vs Team RB Escape Room

Shamelessly stolen after Singapore or Baku Fanstage where they’re asked which driver they would take to an escape room. 

Oracle Red Bull Racing VS Visa Cash App RB ESCAPE ROOM

[00:02:29]

MATTHEW: We’re going to be cool. We’re going to be calm. We’re going to be collected.

CALLAN: You say that but I guarantee the second that door is locked you’ll start panicking. 

MATTHEW: A little positivity would be good Cal.

PRESENTER: Max, Yuki—how do you fancy your chances up against these two?

YUKI: Great. I think we’re going to do really good. 

MAX: They probably will be there overnight still locked inside. 

[00:09:29]

Shows an Italian word attached to the computer screen. They need to type the English translation in order to get the next clue.

MAX: You live in Italy!

YUKI: It doesn’t mean I know every Italian word! And so do you! 

MAX: Where’s my phone?

Cuts to Matthew and Callan still stuck trying to find the last playing card. The whole room is a mess, cushions on the ground, fake plants tipped upside down and chairs placed on the side.

[00:09:12]

Max is holding his phone whilst the Facetime tune rings, before someone on the other end picks up. The camera cuts to show Daniel, with the ID tag: Daniel Ricciardo – Team Principal, Visa Cash App RB. He looks mildly confused at Max calling him but goes along with it.

DANIEL RICCIARDO: Hiya Maxy. Ooh, hi Yuki. What’s up? Aren’t you meant to be in that video with Matt and Cal? 

MAX: Yeah, it’s an escape room—look, what does INSERT ITALIAN WORD MEAN.

DANIEL: 

MAX: Thank you. Bye bye.

YUKI: I thought you were going to google it.

[00:23:22]

CALLAN: We’re gonna die here. 

MATTHEW: Positivity! 

CALLAN: There is no place for positivity here.

Blake’s full hypothetical conversation

Let’s just say I was hypothetically dating a driver

Would I have to declare this to my team

Mate

How hypothetical is this

Can you just answer the question before we get into the hypothetical details of my hypothetical relationship 

Yes

You very much would need to and you would need to do like now

Hypothetically I would then ask how long this hypothetical relationship has been going on

Hypothetically since the summer break 

Okay

So it’s hypothetically Max then

I didn’t say that

Well he’s in Faenza, you live in Faenza and unless you suddenly decided to ask Yuki on a date, which we all know he would say no for incredibly valid reasons, all signs are pointing to your ex Red Bull teammate who you haven’t gotten over

Like ever

Yeah Sebastian really broke my heart when he left me for Ferrari 

Do you want my advice or not

Not particularly but I’m probably going to get it anyway

I am not your HR department . You have a HR department. Go to your HR department 

Yeah but you’re less scary 

How did they let you run a whole team

With my powers of persuasion 

And a powerpoint

I learnt that from George

Do I not deserve some credit too mate

You laughed at me when I told you I was going to Trident you don’t deserve credit

Yeah but then I unlaughed when I realised you were serious 

Unlaughing is not a thing

Yes it is mate because I did it

Also I literally specifically tabbed that section in your contract dude

Yes but we weren’t dating then and I’m not reading through it again

Jesus christ 

RB Group chat after Summer break + Shenanigans 

RB’s Exclusive F1 Driver Club

(After summer break, before the 2028 Dutch Grand Prix)

Matthew: Had a good holiday Daniel? 

Daniel: Very good thank you

Matthew: Good company too or? 

Daniel: What are you asking

Callan: He’s asking if you had good company too or? 

Daniel: Okay Matthew I get you

Callan however this feels like a betrayal

Callan: Due to contrary belief we’re actually smart

Callan: We can put two and one together

Matthew: That is not the saying dude

Matthew: It’s two and two together

Callan: No it isn’t

Matthew: It so is just google it

How are you older than me

Daniel: I mean this with love but it is too early in the morning to deal with this

I hope you enjoyed your holidays

Callan: I did very much thank you because a certain someone didn’t crash it like last year

Matthew: Not my fault we both ended up in New Zealand

Callan: When I asked you to point to New Zealand on a map you pointed to Tasmania 

Matthew: That was done in confidence and you swore to never repeat it

Daniel: I have so many questions 

Matthew: Don’t ask because I cannot answer them

RB Exclusive Driver Club 

(During COTA, when Matthew and Callan discover Max and Daniel are in a relationship)

Daniel: Guys where did you run off too I literally can not find you

Callan: We’re hiding in Alpine

Daniel: Well no because Jack would’ve called me to throw you two out

Matthew: He meant Williams

Daniel: So if I call Alex will he say he’s hiding you two

Callan: I meant Red Bull

Daniel: I am literally at Red Bull right now what are on about

Okay I can do this all day you forget how many of these people have known me since you were in pre school 😇

I can’t believe I have to say this but please stop harassing Max and leave him alone

Callan: Whipped 

Matthew: 😄

Daniel: Can we go back to when you hated each other's guts for like three hours you were easier to deal with

Matthew: We just felt the need to do some shovelling

Matthew: I’m like a profit I knew you two would get together 

Callan: Sure Matthew

Daniel: That can’t be the word

Callan: Sometimes you’ve just gotta let him believe it is 

Max and Daniel before Abu Dhabi

Max

Are you sure you want me there

At your final parc ferme or whatever 

Daniel of course

You are part of my family

Do you not want to be there

Of course I do

I just don’t want it to be awkward or whatever

Everyone already thinks we’re married

At this point anything we do can not change that

Oh

Do you want to get married

If you want to be married we can be married if you don’t want to be married we don’t have to be married

But as long as I have you that is all that matters

Baby

Okay we should not be having this conversation over text I’m like two seconds away from crying

GP says hi by the way

And apparently you have to tell him if you are proposing which I think is stupid because why does he need to know 

Are you in a meeting????? 

Max???

Yeah, what are they gonna do? Fire me? 

You’re so fucking annoying I love you

BEHIND THE SCENES

This was technically my most challenging work. Like I learnt HTML and photoshop for this. This is what my screen showed at least 90% of the time. As a girlie whose HTML knowledge was b for bold, i for italic and u for underline, I do not know how we got here. If you told May me that I understood what any of this means I would be very proud.

This absolutely made zero sense but my brain is fried. I'm off to take a very long nap. And to not look at photoshop, Red Bull content pool, the HTML box in AO3 for a very long time.

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 17)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: reunion time

warnings: Night Court slander, anti Rhysand

word count: 5.9k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: i am SO SO SO SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES! It's been almost 4 months since the last chapter yikes. Life got crazy then I got into a horrible writing block and this is the first thing I've written since July. I'll admit it sucks and is definitely a filler chapter but I promise more exciting stuff to come x

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / 

read on ao3

Spotify playlist

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

For the first time in weeks, your eyes open to rays of sunshine instead of cold darkness. Warm, rich scents flooded your senses, so vastly different from the stifling air of the prison cell you had become accustomed to. Instead of smelling damp, cold stone, you were greeted with the smell of fir trees and fresh air. Your limbs felt lighter, the weight of the chains that had been shackled to your wrists for ages long forgotten.The soft touch of a heavy blanket wrapped around you like an embrace, hugging your body.

You squinted at the harshness of the light, eyes not quite used to the brightness of the sun. You groaned and rolled over to get away from the luminous glow, but felt your body collide with something on the bed. After a couple blinks, your eyes began to focus on the lithe figure sitting next to you.

“Nesta…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, her name like a prayer on your mouth as she came into view. Nesta’s tall frame was seated cross-legged next to you, clad in a deep green gown with a wide neckline adorned with a lacy pattern of gold flowers. Her hands were clasped together tightly, resting upon her skirts. Her sharp face was muddled with concern, slate grey eyes hollow like her mind was elsewhere. 

But they snapped into focus once again at the sound of your voice. “(Y/N)” Nesta breathed, blinking a few times as if she couldn’t believe it was truly you. “You’re awake.”

“How long was I out?” You asked, trying to prop yourself up on your elbows but failing. You let out a groan, flopping back onto the pillows like a sack of potatoes.

“Don’t try and sit up yet.” Nesta warned, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve been out for two days. Your body has been through so much, the healers said to let you rest as much as possible.”

You took in a breath, taking in the sight of Nesta before you. A thousand emotions swelled up in you all at once, threatening to burst out and paint the room a hundred different colours. Your mate, your beautiful, strong mate had come to save you. Tears pricked at your eyes as your throat swelled up. “Nesta–” You croaked out.

“Shhh.” Nesta shushed, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You got out. We all did.”

You sighed. The escape from the Night Court seemed like yesterday and a million years ago all at once. “Are we in Autumn? I don’t remember getting here.”

Nesta nodded. “You passed out on Zôrzimril after we left Night. We’re in Eris’ personal residence in the woods. Beron doesn’t know you’re here.”

You glanced at the room around you, taking in the rich earthy tones signature to the Autumn Court. It was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold surroundings of Night. Lucien had told you that Eris had his own, elaborate place somewhere free of his father in the court. You had never stepped foot in it, until now, but had always wanted to.

“You’re in the room I’ve been staying in.” Nesta continued, a hint of a red blush across her cheeks as she avoided your gaze. “Actually, it’s technically Eris’s–”

“Wait,” You interrupted her. “I’m in Eris’s bed? You’ve been sleeping in Eris’s bed?”

Nesta’s blush deepened. “It’s his personal residence. He doesn’t exactly have guest rooms.”

“Where has he been staying then?” 

“When he’s not at his father’s palace, the couch, apparently. Don’t feel bad for him, that couch is big enough for 3 people to sleep comfortably, limbs spread out and all.”

You snorted, ignoring the fact that you were laying in Eris’ personal bed. You expected to feel a twinge of jealousy that Nesta had been staying in this room, so up close and personal with Eris. But none came. Something which surprised you, given Nesta was your mate, and mates were supposed to be territorial. 

It was like a bucket of ice water was washed over you as you recalled the realisations you came to over the last few days. Nesta didn’t know she was your mate – she thought she was Cassian’s.

Estelle’s words rang in your head. Fae folk can have more than one mate in some instances. Nesta Archeron has more than one, but Cassian is not one of them.

It confused you – Cassian sure acted like a mated male around Nesta, even more so once Rhys mentioned it at the Court of Nightmares. Why would the High Lord lie about it? Did anyone else know? A million questions swarmed through you, each one louder than the last.

You recalled Nesta telling you the story of Feyre finding out about the mating bond with Rhys. How angry she was when she found out that the male had known for months and didn’t tell her. Deep down, you knew Nesta would be angrier the longer you kept it from her. “Nesta,” You began. “There’s something you need to know–”

“Good morning, my sunshines.” The smooth voice of Eris echoed throughout the room as the door swung open, interrupting you. The prince strolled in, red hair gleaming in the glow of the morning sun. He was carrying a tray, steaming with freshly baked pastries, tea, and fruits. “I see (Y/N) has risen from the dead!”

“You’re not funny, Eris.” Nesta snapped. 

“I disagree.” Eris quipped, setting the tray down at the foot of the bed. “(Y/N) think’s I’m hilarious, don’t you (Y/N)?”

You snorted. “If you pass me that bacon and egg sandwich I’ll give you this one.”

Eris smirked, placing the requested item onto a gold plate and passing it to you. “Deal.”

You eagerly grabbed the sandwich, taking as big of a bite as your mouth would allow. It burned your tongue, but you didn’t care. It took everything in you not to moan as the rich flavours filled your taste buds. “This is amazing.” You mumbled.

The Autumn Prince smirked. “Well I suppose anything would taste good after being basically starved in a dungeon.”

“Seriously, Eris. Shut up.” Nesta seethed, shooting a deadly glare at him. You snorted, but couldn’t help but notice the lack of seriousness behind it. Plenty of times you had been witness to Nesta snapping at people, but this was different. Her tone didn’t have the same bite to it that it did with others – no, it was more playful. She turned back to you, eyes softening. “How do you feel?”

You shrugged. “Tired. Like I’ve just done the workout of the century and need a week’s worth of sleep. I don’t want to leave this bed for at least another few days.”

Grey eyes met amber ones as Nesta and Eris exchanged an uneasy glance. For that moment, the only sound was the rustling of the wind coming through the windows. “What?” You asked, brows furrowed.

Eris sighed, walking around the corner of the bed. He was dressed in a simple red shirt with loose sleeves, the top slightly unlaced and exposing the pale skin underneath. Very rarely had you seen the prince dressed so casually. He grabbed your ankles through the thick duvet, lifting your legs up slightly and moving them to the side to make space for him to sit across from Nesta. Eris kept his hands on your legs, gently squeezing them.

“You’ve survived a lot of hard things lately, (Y/N).” He said slowly. “And you’ve overcome one of the most difficult parts. But I’d be lying if I said it was going to get a lot easier.”

A lump formed in your throat. Truthfully, over the past few weeks you hadn’t even thought about the possibility of what life would be like if you escaped Night and got to Autumn. There were still dozens of factors to consider, all of which you had given up on figuring out solutions to.

“I have to explain to my father how and why you are here, which will be difficult.” Eris continued. “He already blew a fuse over Nesta’s unexpected arrival. It is likely a second unexpected arrival will be even worse, and he will not take it lightly.”

You shifted in the pillows, running a hand through your hair. Surprisingly, you weren’t met with the knots and tangles you expected from not being able to brush your own hair for weeks. “Your father will hurt you, won’t he?” You said to Eris.

He hesitated before speaking. “Let me worry about that, my dear. We need to convince my father there’s a good reason for you to stay. I’ve already used the marriage card on Lady Nesta here, so we need to figure out something else.”

“What about my…” Your words trailed off as you tried to think of a word to describe what exploded out of you during the escape. “Magic?”

Eris shook his head. “Not an option. He cannot know about that.”

“Why not? Surely he’ll find out eventually?”

“Likely not. Rhysand is not stupid enough to let slip that he let someone with that kind of ability escape his court. And I have reason to believe Tamlin will stay quiet about it as well.”

“Speaking of that kind of ability,” Nesta interjected. “What even was that? I didn’t know you–”

“Yeah, me neither.” You said, locking your fingers together and twirling them around. You lowered your head, avoiding their gazes. “Something…. something happened when I was in there.”

Eris cocked his head, eyes burning with curiosity. “What happened?”

Nesta grabbed your hands, unlocking your clammy fingers and lacing her own between them. She shot a fierce look at Eris. “She doesn’t have to talk about it now.” She hissed.

“Yes, Nesta, she does.” Eris said calmly before turning back to you. “I wish we had more time to let you rest, I really do, but I need to know what happened before I can figure out what story to spin to my father.”

You let out a sigh. “Why can’t we just kill him first so we don’t have to deal with all of this?”

Nesta snorted, earning an eye roll from Eris. “As much as I would love to be rid of my father,” Eris said. “We have to wait before we take him out. There are things that need to be properly aligned, and it takes planning.”

“Haven’t you been planning?” You fired back. “I mean, plotting and scheming is all you do in your spare time, isn’t it?”

A smirk formed at the edge of Eris’s lips. “The officials in this court need to see Beron accept you and Nesta if they’re going to accept you. We risk a coup if we kill him before then. Now, tell me what happened while you were in that cell.”

Nesta’s steady hand on your weak one evened your breathing slightly. You tore your gaze from the pattern on the sheets and you drank in the sight of her as if it could slip away at a moment's notice. She looked stronger, healthier than she had in Night. She carried herself more confidently, less stiff and rigid. She looked more comfortable in her own skin, something that filled you with pride. But also sorrow – sadness at the fact you hadn’t been there to witness this change.

And so you explained everything – the vision you had, the conversation with Estelle, what happened that day Hybern came to your village. Nesta’s face was twisted with confusion and awe as you went on, whereas Eris’ expression was unreadable. 

“But that wasn’t everything.” You murmured, heart beginning to race as you prepared to explain the part you dreaded most. 

“There’s more?” Nesta asked, eyes wide. “You’re telling me you’re the Mother incarnate, and there’s more than that?”

Tears pricked at your eyes once again. These next few words could ruin everything. You knew Nesta hated the idea of mates, the concept of being shackled to someone just because a higher being thought you’d produce good offspring. Nesta already had to process what Rhysand said about Cassian being her mate, and you were about to make it a whole lot worse. You couldn’t stop those tears from spilling down your face as a sob left your body.

“Hey…” Eris spoke softly, reaching out to brush one of the tears off your cheek. “It’s ok.”

“(Y/N)?” Nesta’s voice was cautious, laced with concern.

“You’re my mate.” Your voice shook as you dragged the words out. You fixed your gaze on the sheets again, not wanting to see Nesta’s reaction.  

“What?” She said quietly.

“Cassian isn’t your mate,” You said, more steady this time. “I am. Estelle said fae can have more than one mate, but Cassian is not one of yours.”

For once, not even the wind rustled in response. It was as if the world had gone quiet. You could feel her surprise, like a rush of cold water surging through that link between you two. You tried to reach her through the bond, to get a sense of what else she was feeling, but you were met with a stone cold wall.

Nesta. You tried. But she had shut you out, eyes vacant as she took in the information. Wordlessly, Nesta removed her hands from yours. Your skin cried out at the loss of warmth, missing the contact already. She uncrossed her legs and climbed off the bed before leaving the room, slamming the door behind her.

A sob wracked your body again, harder this time. Wet droplets appeared on the sheets as tears rolled off your face, and you buried your head in your hands. Even after everything you’d endured, this was somehow the worst.

You felt a shift on the bed as Eris scooted up closer to you. “It’ll be okay.” You heard his voice murmur in that scarce gentle tone.

“You don’t know that.” You choked out. One of your fears had come true. Everything you and Nesta had built up over the last few months – the quiet friendship, the few sacred kisses you shared that set your entire body alight, the easiness during training with Gwyn and Emerie, it all came crashing down. Whatever she had felt for you mattered now, she wouldn’t want to be shackled even more than she already has.

“When you were asleep, Nesta spent hours untangling your hair.” 

You lifted your head from your hands at Eris’ voice, meeting his soft gaze. “It was a mess,” He continued. “Took her the entire afternoon. But she was so gentle, and not breaking a single strand. She didn’t take a single break, and even after she was done she remained by your side until the sun came up. I set up the couch for her, but she insisted on sleeping next to you.”

Eris gently touched your hand. It was warm against your skin, which you felt was still thawing from the cold of Rhys’ dungeon. “Nesta has had a lot to take in the last few weeks, as you well know. I’ve been training her powers, but my father has insisted that a demonstration of her magic be made before the marriage is to happen. I have no doubt that–”

“Did you know?” You blurted out before the prince could finish his sentence. It was a question that had been niggling at the back of your mind since you found out Nesta was your mate – Eris had a knack for finding out things long before others knew. You had no doubt that the second he found out about the spell you and Nesta cast, he had delved into hours of research trying to figure out as much about it as possible. He was a clever male, one who fought with knowledge and scheming rather than brute force like Cassian.

Eris was silent for a moment before speaking. “I suspected. There were too many unknown factors to bring it up, I wanted to be sure before I told Nesta. I found old manuscripts dating back thousands of years – the text was faded, but it went into more details about the specifics of the spell between Estelle and Jayana. There were too many parallels between it and the mating bond. I figured the only explanation was that a mating bond had to already be in place for the spell to truly link.”

You sighed. If Nesta found out that Eris might have known as well and kept it from her, she would be even angrier. “Eris, Nesta doesn’t trust easily. You should have told her this the second you got the idea in your head. Now she’s going to be pissed at both of us.”

“She’s not pissed at you, my dear.” Eris gently stroked your hand with his thumb, the movement so small it was almost undetectable. “Give her a few hours to process. Then we can all sit down and figure out what to do next, okay? Now rest for a bit longer, you need to get your strength back.”

You nodded, heart aching at the image of Nesta storming out of the room. Laying back, you settled back into the plush bedding, wishing it would swallow you up whole. Eris reached down and pulled the duvet closer to you, gently tucking you in. “Sleep well, darling.” He whispered. Before you could process it, Eris leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Your skin tingled at the sensation, still feeling like it was slowly thawing from the cold of the dungeon. 

There was so much more you wanted to say, a thousand questions you wanted to ask Eris, but the prince retreated as quickly as he came leaving you to sleep. Your eyes fluttered shut as you drifted off again, heart aching at the absence of Nesta’s presence.

 *********************

A few hours later, you smoothed your hands over the skirts of the dress Eris’s servants had laid out for you. It was a rich brown colour with a square neckline and loose sleeves -- elegant, yet comfortable. You had no clue where Eris had been pulling this wardrobe from, but that was besides the point. Grogginess continued to plague you, although less so than before. Even with your fae healing, it would take a while for you to return to your full strength – something you had Rhysand to thank for.

Your hands curled into fists, nails scraping through your palms as you thought of the High Lord of the Night Court. A sick feeling curled in your gut as you recalled his smug face as he sent his dark powers slicing through your skin. Every time you closed your eyes, you were back in that dungeon, chained up and helpless against the male. You hated it, hated him. You hated how much his slimy face crossed your mind, how the faint scars along your wrists would never truly fade. Your mind flashed with memories of riding atop Zorzimril, burning down Rhys and Feyre’s many castles, the orange flames lighting up the night sky as you burned and burned them. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t make you feel better.

Shaking your head as if to push memories of Rhysand out of your mind, you wandered towards the door on unsteady legs. As the door swung open, you were greeted with a long hallway lined with elegant torches. You looked back and forth, unsure which way to go. You didn’t even know Eris had this residence, let alone how to navigate it. But then you felt something, a slight pull deep inside of you that urged you to go left. Aimlessly, you followed it, wandering down the hallway before coming to a beautiful wooden arch that marked the entryway into the living room. In awe, you scanned the space before you. A series of couches and armchairs were placed around the room, some by a fireplace and some by the high bookshelf that stretched all the way to the ceiling. It was decorated in rich autumnal colours, the scent of cinnamon and apple cider filling the air. It had a modest dining table and three chairs, and a set of doors that seemingly led to a pathway outside.

Nesta and Eris occupied two of the chairs, sitting across from each other in silence. Eris was humming quietly, writing something down on a piece of parchment. His red hair looked more orange in the candlelight, and was braided loosely. Nesta sat stoically, staring into nothing. She had a cup of tea in front of her, but no steam emitted from it. Clearly she had been there a while, tea untouched. Her face was grave, but her head whipped to face you as you stepped through the archway.

You wanted to throw up with nerves. You had always been able to read Nesta’s expressions until now. Her face was contorted with a mix of emotions, passing so quickly between each one it was impossible to tell what they were. My mate, my mate, my mate, rang like a war bell in your head so loud it threatened to drown out any sounds from the outside world. You felt the bond in your chest swell in her presence, stronger than anything you’d felt before. There was no denying it – Nesta was your mate.

“May I join you?” You finally managed to ask through a dry throat. Nesta said nothing and just kept staring at you.

“By all means,” Eris piped up, setting his pen down. “Come join the party. We’re having a grand old time here, aren’t we, Nesta?”

You expected Nesta to roll her eyes or snap at him in that playful manner, but it was as if she didn’t even hear Eris. She just kept looking at you as if she wasn’t sure if you were really there. You carefully walked over, taking a seat between Nesta and Eris at the head of the table where the remaining chair was. Her grey gaze followed you the whole way.

“What have you guys been up to while I was out?” You asked.

Eris sighed. “Well, my dear, I informed Nesta of what I began to suspect regarding the bond. She tore me a new one for not telling her, it was very dramatic. So now we’re sitting in silence trying to figure out how to address the elephant in the room.”

You didn’t say anything, just stared at the lines in the wood of the table. You felt frozen – afraid of saying the wrong thing. Nesta had never wanted to be fae, and you knew having a mating bond must make that worse for her. It would make her even more shackled to this life she didn’t want, chipping away at her remaining humanity piece by piece. Sure, you and Nesta had kissed a few times and there was feeling behind it, but that didn’t mean she wanted you as a life partner. And even with that, Estelle had said Nesta had multiple mates. If Cassian was not one of them, then who was? 

Eris’s sigh broke your thoughts. “By the Mother, you two are stubborn.” He huffed. “Let’s look at the facts, shall we? Nesta, (Y/N), you are mates. I suspected it a few days after I found out about the spell you two cast, as it needed an already existing bond to latch onto in order to work. But then things get complicated. Somehow, Rhys is wrong about Cassian being Nesta’s mate. Either they’re the best actors I’ve seen, or there is something linking Nesta and Cassian.”

You saw Nesta’s throat bob at the mention of Cassian. Trying to figure out how he was connected to Nesta hurt your brain. 

“I felt something with Cassian,” Nesta said tensely. “Not in that way, but I could feel what he felt as if part of him lived within me. How is that not a mating bond?”

The prince shrugged. “I have no idea, honestly. There’s something strange going on there. However, none of that matters until we deal with my father. I am set to marry Nesta, which puts us in an awkward situation. If Nesta pleases my father with her powers, then she is to be wed to me.”

“When is that supposed to be happening?” You asked. You weren’t sure how you felt about Eris and Nesta getting married. Part of you was jealous, resentful at the idea of Nesta marrying someone else. But there was another part of you that felt differently in a way you couldn’t explain. Like you were being left out not just from Nesta’s life, but Eris’s too.

“Tonight.” Eris said gravely.

Your blood froze. “Tonight?”

“Yes. And no offence my dear, but you complicate things. Because now I have to explain to my father why you are here too and why I keep letting in strays.”

You snorted. “Beron’s going to kill me. I think you already pissed him off by letting Nesta in here without his permission. I’m not even half as valuable to him as she is, we both know he won’t have any use for me.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Nesta finally spoke, her voice fierce. You turned to face her and were met with her silver eyes. They stared into you, swimming with a thousand emotions.

“Whatever happens, Beron won’t touch you.” She continued evenly.

“We just have to play the angle right.” Eris said, crossing his arms and resting his elbows on the table. “You spied for Rhysand, correct?”

You scoffed. “Well, technically–”

“Yes, you did.” Eris interrupted sternly. “You spied for Rhysand, and then you found out what he was planning and tried to flee. He’s been hunting you down, and I found you at the Autumn Court border. That is the story we are going with.”

“What exactly did I find out that made me flee?”

“That he’s planning on becoming High King with Nesta’s Made sword.”

“Beron won’t believe that.”

“He will because it’s true.”

Your heart fell into your stomach. “What?” You spoke in a whisper, mind reeling in shock. The thought of Rhysand using Nesta’s weapons and declaring himself as High King over all of Prythian made you want to throw up.

“Based on my intel, the lovely Amren has been trying to convince him to go down that path.” Eris explained through gritted teeth. “Apparently he refused at first, but I strongly believe that with you and Nesta both having fled his grasp, he will reconsider his stance to get you back under his control.”

“If Rhysand was High King then he’d have dominion over the Autumn Court,” You muttered. “We would be right back where we started.”

Eris nodded. “But we can use this. My father would do anything to make sure that didn’t happen, overlook anything. If you inform him of Rhysand’s plans, he’ll want you on his side for more intel.”

“Would Beron really be so quick to trust someone who’s supposedly betraying their own court?”

“My dear, Rhysand locked you in a dungeon. That part we don’t have to lie about. We just have to twist the reasons why he locked you up. But truthfully, I think my father will be so distracted by the intel he won’t care about anything else.”

You chewed on your lower lip with worry. It was a big gamble, and while Eris was clever Beron was still unpredictable. So many things could go wrong so fast, and the last thing you wanted was to end up in another dungeon. The thought of doing so made you want to curl up into a ball.

As if sensing your discomfort, Nesta placed her hand on top of yours. It was warm, such a difference from how frail and cold her hands were in the Night Court. “It’ll be ok.” She murmured. 

You smiled softly, relaxing instantly under her touch. 

“And that’s my cue,” Eris announced, gathering his papers and standing up. “I suspect you two have much to discuss alone. I must go ensure everything is prepared for dinner with my father tonight. I’ve left instructions with the servants on how to get you ready, and I will be by to collect you both at five o’clock.”

He strode towards the archway, but paused briefly. Amber eyes landed on you and Nesta again, all playfulness gone. “I have done my part, and will do whatever I can to ensure your safety.” He said gravely. “But do not forget that you both have roles to play, and we all risk our heads if you fail to do so. And if you have any thoughts about betraying me to save your own skin, Beron will no longer be the one you need to fear from my family. I will throw you both to the wolves without hesitation if you think about dragging me down with you.”

With that, the prince left, leaving you and Nesta sitting in silence. Eris’s words stung you a bit, that he thought you would even think about betraying him. But Eris had been playing this song and dance with his father for centuries, and at the end of the day no matter how much he’d helped you, he’d always look out for himself. It was something you were aware of when you planned this, and you mentally kicked yourself for ignoring it.

The few minutes after Eris’s departure were filled with silence. No birds chirped in the windowsill, no breeze rustled the branches. It was as if the world had stopped, waiting on the edge of its seat for you and Nesta to speak. 

Truthfully, you had no idea what to say. How could you comprehend what Nesta felt when you didn’t even know how you truly felt? A part of you had always loved Nesta, but were those your true feelings or just the mating bond? All those tender moments, the stolen kisses, the soft touches, would they have happened if the mating bond wasn’t already there? The thought of your connection with Nesta stemming from magic rather than your true feelings made your heart hurt. You had never wanted a mating bond, yet here you were.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, you found the courage to speak. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Nesta?”

Nesta took a deep breath, fiddling with her fingers for a minute before answering. “How a few weeks ago I was ready to burn down the entire Night Court to get you back. How every second you were in that dungeon I was here, living comfortably. How every time I closed my eyes I saw glimpses of darkness, how I felt your fear. How all that time, I thought it was the spell allowing me to feel those things. I never could have imagined…”

Her voice trailed off, as if she was afraid to even speak about the bond. “Me too,” You replied. “Look, I know things are hard for us right now. And you don’t have to accept the bond if you don’t want–”

Nesta sharply cut you off. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to accept it. I just don’t know what to believe right now. Estelle said Cassian wasn’t one of my mates, but I swear I felt a bond. Was she wrong about that? And does that mean she was wrong about us?”

“I can’t speak for Cassian, but I don’t think she was wrong about us. And I think you know it too, Nesta.”

Nesta looked up at you, grey eyes brimming with emotion. You felt a gentle tug at the bond and inhaled sharply. She smiled softly at your reaction, confirming everything she needed to know.

“Nesta…” You breathed her name like a prayer on your lips. Tears filled your eyes as you admired that tender smile.

“I’m sorry for running off on you earlier.” She said quietly. “I just… I didn’t expect it. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. You, being my mate. After everything that happened between us…”

You sniffled, trying to hold back more tears. “But was all of it real? I mean, if we were mated the whole time, did everything happen between us because of the bond, or because of us?”

Nesta blinked slowly. “It was real to me.”

“Me too.”

You stroked Nesta’s wrist with your thumb, rubbing it in circular motions. You felt like you were going to explode, feeling everything both you and Nesta were experiencing at once. All you wanted to do was sit here and stare at your beautiful mate, forgetting about everything else. To let the rest of the world fall away beneath your feet as long as you could stay in this moment forever.

But realistically, you knew you had to face the challenges. “What about Eris?” You asked quietly. “You’re supposed to marry him, where does that put us?”

The Archeron sister bit her lip anxiously. “I don’t know. I’m sure Eris and I will be free to see whomever we wish as long as we are discreet and are able to maintain our image.”

You laughed humourlessly. “So then I’d become your mistress.”

“That’s not what I want for either of us. But I don’t see another way right now.”

You tried not to let it sting. You weren’t stupid – Eris marrying Nesta was necessary in your plan, but that didn’t make it any easier. Especially now that you two were mated. The thought of simply being your mate's secret mistress made you feel slimy and ashamed. “How do you feel about marrying Eris?” You asked tentatively.

Nesta shrugged, but a faint red stained her cheeks. “It’s a smart move. It makes sense. And he’s not the worst male I’ve met so I think I’ll live.”

You chuckled, causing Nesta to glare at you. “Your face is red, Nesta. Admit it, you like him.”

“I don’t. He’s insufferable.” Nesta’s face only grew redder as she looked away.

Your laugh only grew louder. “Liar.”

“Fine!” Nesta snapped. “I’ve spent a lot of time with him in the last few weeks and he’s grown on me, ok? Does it not bother you as my mate for me to admit I like him? It feels wrong. I’m mated to you, not him.”

“No.” You answered honestly, which surprised you. “It doesn’t bother me. He’s charming. Besides, I’ve had a crush on him since I was like twenty, so…”

Your voice trailed off with embarrassment as you realised what you had just admitted. You had never told anyone about your crush on Eris, and had been determined to die with this secret. Your face went red, and Nesta burst out laughing. 

“Look whose face is red now?” She teased.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, burying your face in your hands. “If you ever tell him I said that I’ll strangle you.”

Nesta snorted. “Oh, please. He’s Eris. He probably already knows.”

You groaned, banging your head into the wood of the table a few times. It was strange and yet comforting to know that Nesta liked Eris. You expected a mately surge of jealousy and possessiveness, but none came. 

After a few more minutes of laughter, a comfortable silence took over the room before you each chose a book from the shelf and began to read. The hours began to pass by, and you stared at Nesta as she flipped through the pages, how beautiful she was with the autumn glow upon her. You wanted to memorise every inch of her features before the dinner with Beron tonight, the thought of which made your gut churn.

It was a quarter to five when the shuffled footsteps of four servants came into the room. It was time to prepare.

taglist (comment if you want to be added): @queercontrarian @kitkat-writes-stuff @moonfawnx @sevikas-whore @weird-and-wise @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @kingshitonly @ladyofcherries @eerievixen @readingwritingwatching @peacecoffeeandflowers @a-frog-with-a-laptop @shadowqueen25 @lana08 @highladyofillyria @rachelnicolee @ladespedidas @little-darlingo @manonblackbeakquidditchteam13 @demirunner @terorovaerangi @hauntedandhopeful  @younxii @microwaveallthedemons @fanfictioniseverything @lovra974 @maddietheshoe @peaceandcrackers @emy1-9 @lostinfantasyworldsbi @issybee0611 @thoughtfulshepherdmongerkid @belledawnidk @whhyyynottt @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @littlebbb @piceous21 @sevendeadlyshins-blog @searchingford  @marigold-morelli @thesapphiclibrarian @nikovasbitch @chasing-autumns-chill @

[myemuisemo]

While I was pondering whether Mrs. Douglas had a "freeze" reaction to trauma in chapter V of The Valley of Fear, chapter VI appeared with the answer, and I fear Letters from Watson will soon provide chapter VII, so let's get cracking.

There are three things top of mind for me today:

The Panic of 1873

Yews

Dumbbells

The Panic of 1873

When I worked out the timeline for Cecil Barker's recounting of "we did this for five years and this for one year," etc., etc., assuming that the story takes place in late 1888 or early 1889, the year I got for Barker's likely arrival in the U.S. was 1873.

That's significant: he set off to make his fortune, ending up in the gold fields of California, about the time that a global depression was starting.

The short version of the Panic of 1873 is that after the Civil War, U.S. railroad bonds (that is, the debt used to finance railroad construction) were the hot investment, not just in the US, but in Europe, especially Germany. Nineteenth-century investing was mostly in bonds -- this is why people talk in Victorian novels about having investments in 3-percents that pay 10,000 pounds a year, or similar. When you invested your money, the company was literally in debt to you, and it paid you a safe "coupon" of interest on that debt.

Not all bonds were the same. People were "ruined" by investing in companies that did not have stable cash flow or were outright fraudulent.

The initial problem in 1873 was not with the railroads, though, but with trading in the bonds. When German investors moved on to other investments, there were too many railroad bonds running loose, causing their value to plummet. That took out a US bank that had a hefty investment in those bonds, as their asset value dropped. The bank failure caused a panic, which cascaded through the system. This article and this one explain some of the specifics.

Anyway, Cecil Barker seeks his fortune abroad at a time loosely equivalent to the Great Recession of 2008.

In 1873, California was wrapping up efforts to exterminate native peoples -- no, I'm not exaggerating. This was not covered in 4th grade state history, 5th grade U.S. history, nor 8th or 11th grade U.S. history when I was in school!

By 1873, Gold Rush hysteria was over and some of the original sites in the Sierra Nevada foothills had been largely mined-out and abandoned, though mining still continued where it could. San Francisco was establishing itself as "the Paris of the West." The Central Valley, where I live, was getting rail built down its length, with towns established at various points for taking on fuel and water, as well as for picking up wheat and other crops that didn't require intensive irrigation (which wouldn't arrive for ~40 years).

It's not me, it's YEW

After decades of reading British novels, I have finally looked up what a yew is. I'd always envisioned something like the Chinese juniper that's planted everywhere around here: a low, dense hedge with soft packets of needles and a pungent, dusty scent.

Nope. I far underestimated the yew. It is a tree that makes Tolkien's Ents look small and non-threatening. Visit this yew-focused page to see the most terrifying trees. The existence of the yew also explains folktales of the British Isles where fair folk live in hollow trees. Yikes.

The yew traditionally symbolizes death, so the yew hedge is an excellent place to hang out after one's husband is mysteriously murdered.

(While you're there, the Ancient Tree Inventory is great for hours of exploration and arboreal terror.)

Where is the missing dumbbell?

The fact that Douglas has dumbbells at all is interesting, as the physical culture movement only really took off in the US in the 1880s, and it was slower to arise in England due to a greater cultural emphasis on "games."

He may have been influenced by his German first wife, as it was German immigrants in the 1850s who popularized the "Turner" movement of liberal political philosophy and physical fitness, the latter through vigorous gymnastics. Turnverein had a significant role in bringing PE into American schools.

Depending how one interprets the dumbbells, Douglas could be:

Forward-thinking

Eccentric

Worried about physical attacks or about aging

Very into German culture

We can't ask Mrs. Douglas, as, per Cecil Barker, Douglas' "perfect" trust in her did not include telling her... oh, anything actually important about his life.

I really want to know who was using whom in this household.

[littleholmes]

I just think it’s interesting that Satoru’s fresh out of the prison realm and thinking about Suguru and has him near the top of his list of priorities. Megumi catches his attention too because he’s attached to Sukuna and he’s also on Satoru’s list of “things to do before I fight him”, but it seems the situation with Suguru comes even before that on his to-do list and, idk I just can’t stop thinking about it and all that it means.

It makes sense though. It’s really not for no reason that Suguru’s at the top of his mind. After all, Satoru went into the prison realm thinking about Suguru and being shocked that he was even Suguru walking around, let alone seeing his body being controlled by someone else. Satoru felt and saw Suguru’s residuals still inside Suguru’s body, and then Kenjaku’s control slipped and Suguru responded to Satoru, wanting to get Kenjaku out of his body after Satoru asked how he’d let himself get used by Kenjaku.

So he was in the prison realm thinking about that horrible shit for however long it’s been for him in there since time passes differently. Satoru was likely thinking through what could’ve happened, how and if Suguru’s still hanging on in there, who could be the puppeteer of his body, the list goes on. It makes sense that getting Suguru’s body away from Kenjaku is at the top of his list.

But I also think it’s interesting that Satoru said he wants to mourn Suguru’s body because that implies that while he was in the realm with his thoughts churning on how to reclaim Suguru’s body from Kenjaku, he wasn’t mourning the fact that Suguru’s body is being held captive or the role he himself played in Suguru’s body being available for Kenjaku because he didn’t make sure Suguru’s body was properly handled after the Christmas Eve situation (or dealing with the self-blame that comes with realizing that).

Suguru meant a great deal to Satoru and the fact that Kenjaku is out here using Suguru…it’s messed up. And it’s even more messed up considering it’s kinda his fault that Suguru’s body is under Kenjaku’s control. Satoru hasn’t even processed the grief that comes with not only losing Suguru but thinking his body is handled only to see it walking around a platform and being even more awful and downright evil than Suguru ever was even in his darkest chapter of life. Like…that’s next level. Then to hear that Satoru hasn’t even processed that, or grieved the puppeteering of Suguru’s body and his role in that? Yikes. (When that shoe drops that’s gonna be bad.)

And I think it’s even more interesting that 12/24 is such an important date to Satoru since Suguru was so important to him that he subconsciously picks Suguru’s death date for this next fight.

Kenjaku brings it up that it’s an interesting choice and Satoru does acknowledge that Kenjaku’s right that it would be messed up—but only because that’d mean Suguru would have died on 12/24 twice.

It could be said that it’s almost like he didn’t realize it was Suguru’s death date at first because when Kenjaku reminded him, he admitted the confusion of two death dates and his cocky confidence about winning the fight covered it up. But, generally speaking, 12/24 isn’t exactly the first considered option when presented with any number of dates through the end of the year to do something (unless you read a lot of manga because Christmas Eve and Christmas and Halloween seem to be the holidays when shit goes down), but Satoru picked 12/24, and I just find it fascinating because it points to how Suguru and Suguru’s death (and now Suguru’s body) are such an unconscious undercurrent of Satoru’s thoughts that 12/24 immediately comes to mind for the fight when given the current November date.

Idk I’m rambling but I found the end of this chapter so interesting because it highlighted how Satoru hasn’t grieved Suguru again (or maybe even really at all—but that’s another post), how Suguru is at the top of his thoughts and his agenda on what to handle post-prison realm, and how despite his facades, Satoru deeply cares about those he allows himself to truly get close to (with Suguru likely being one of the last).

[fountainpenguin]

"No one lives forever~ Let's have a party; there's a full moon in the sky! It's the hour of the wolf and I don't wanna die..." (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 35 - “Incendiary (BigB, Skizz, Etho, Scott)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

BigB visits a tipsy Scar. Skizz does paperwork. Etho sobs on the floor. Scott gets something to eat.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

T-rated descriptions of BigB discussing cuddles with Ren

---

bigbst4tz2 - Moth (Ex-Illusioner)

Status: Increasingly concerned

City inspector, private investigator, and town crier

🖤  🧡  💚

This is getting intense. It's pinching at his hearts. I need a better observation post. Thank Beef for the card shop, though- and its rooftop bar. It's not exactly a night of snuggling and macaroni, but Pearl's whisper over comm gave him a good excuse to duck out. He likes Ren. But Ren's… a lot. It's charming to see him playing with the young fox hybrids. Jimmy's presence helped soak some energy too; it's easier, see, to handle Ren in small doses or with a bigger group. But it's nice to stretch. He needs time with his own thoughts now and then.

BigB lands in a fwump of wings. Not many people are up here tonight. Yeah, card games don't tend to be an instinct programmed into mob behavior. This place will be busier come new moon night. Three people sit at the barstools, talking to someone that BigB barely glanced at. They look heavily modded. No full moon pulls for them. Scar's here too. After what he glimpsed when Scar was on the floor with Scott, he'd be more surprised if he wasn't. Didn't Martyn crash through his roof? Yikes.

"Mind if I join you?" he asks over his shoulder. Scar looks up. He's drinking alone tonight. Again, don't blame him. Heavier than usual for him, isn't it? Raw binary code sparkles in his shot glass. Scar's eyes glint off-green, all dim and hazy. His soul traits haven't sprung up, though his form seems to be a little loose around the shoulders.

"Hello, BigB! No, not at all- pull up a seat if you'd like. What's the word on the streets these days?"

BigB's antennae twitch forward. He climbs on top of a short block stack at the edge of the roof- the corner spot where the fence post railing connects. Yeah, this will work. It's easier to sit on than the posts themselves and he gets a decent view of Headquarters. Scar's just two tables over, within prox chat distance. BigB gets himself situated, flapping out his wings. He cracks open the eyespots to soak in as much area as he can. "Well… Impulse and Tango got some farms approved. They're only authorized to run it for short periods of time and they're on trial to prove they can follow through with the ethics requirements, but we might get renewable iron rolling in pretty soon. Dude, that would be a game-changer."

"Oh, really?" Scar takes another sip of his drink. His vex wings flutter at his shoulders. BigB doesn't need to turn around to see that. "You know, I've always wondered why we have glowing iron golems in this dimension, but not glowing iron. It really makes you think. What a quad- quandary."

"Hmm… I guess because it's a programmed drop, not a literal part of their body."

"True!"

What a day. One of the longest ones he's experienced in a while, seeing as he had check-in work in the morning, a full two weeks of recording, and city inspection work when he went offline. BigB yawns, thrumming his wings. But Pearl asked him to keep an eye on Scott, and Scott's definitely up to something. He snuck out a window. This should be interesting.

"BigB?"

"What?"

"Do you think Grian would like me more if I was a worm?"

He rolls one of his eyespots, trying not to show expression otherwise. "I'm sure Grian likes you fine." If this is some jab at soulmates and Double Life, it's not one he's up for tonight. Though that thought does wiggle beneath his exoskeleton and bite at every heart.

I bet Ren would like me more if I were a giant world-eating worm.

Maybe he would've been into that in a way he wasn't into a soft and fluffy moth who loitered in the corners of his eyes, following instructions instead of bossing him around. And as he thinks that, he pinches his brow and rubs up and down. Ren checked every box when they were soulmates. He flirted and flounced and nuzzled while living at Box…

… but Ren's into things that BigB was never going to be able to give him, like fangs and drool and razor-sharp claws. He embraced the roleplay. Pretended there was something there. They were cuddling shirtless every night. Even carroting sometimes, foreheads pressed and mouths soft as they huffed against each other's necks. Hands sliding, fingers tracing spiracles they could both feel, even though they were only legitimate on BigB's skin. Arms wrapped around each other. Backs arched as they whispered and chased that little lip of lust and trust.

"Oh no," Scar says softly, mostly to his drink. "He might not recognize me if I'm a worm. Do you think Cub still would?" Cub loves me, Scar adds in his mind. BigB can hear that, like he can hear everything, because of the way Scar's throat constricts on individual words. It's subtle, but he can. Because BigB always listens, and he picks up everything.

He flicks an antenna, but otherwise ignores this, lost in his own thoughts and the cold hand resting on his face. It's almost not fair, you know… how everyone in Double Life got paired with someone they could learn to love. Maybe had loved in the past. And he and Ren had golden history, twirling around each other like a moth chasing flames in 3rd Life and Last Life too.

But loving Ren is a loser's game from the start, if you aren't someone like Martyn who was born with spiny wings and lashing tail and fangs and drool and claws. Ren's a performer and very good when guiding partners through a rush of carrots, but he was never going to fall in love with BigB the way BigB tried to fall in love with him.

It's not like he didn't try. He cuddled too. He responded with what felt like enthusiasm every time Ren pulled him in, licking his cheeks and running hands down his sides. Pulling him down on the bed and into his arms. Day after day, week after week, he mirrored the motions and fell in love. Even when he knew it wasn't real. When he lay his head on Ren's rising, falling chest and gazed up at his sleepy, bristle-covered face.

Ren's such a rugged and handsome man, honestly. He loves working in the dirt. Maybe it's a dog thing. Maybe he just likes plants and tiny creatures in the soil. He's got the muscles of someone who rolls huge boulders aside just to take a peek at ants and worms. Maybe a fungus.

And he's beautiful, and he loves so much, and it's all too much sometimes (because it isn't real). So with wings whispering at his back… BigB rested his cheek and curled his fingers, biting bare skin, and asked him for the truth.

"If I mod in some ears and fangs and maybe a tail, would that do something for you?"

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[ravnarieldurin]

Greetings Everyone!

Hello everyone! My name is Ravnáriel, better known across Middle Earth as Raven. I am a half-elf maiden with the blood of legendary fire mages flowing in my veins.

I also happen to have accidentally found my One among all three of the dwarf sons of Durin: Thorin, Fili and Kili. Varda and Mahal have a funny and sometimes cruel sense of humor.

This is where you can find the story of how my journey led me to cross paths with the Company of Thorin Oakenshield and his nephews, Fili and Kili, and all the ups and downs that came with it.

---

The Hobbit: Fire's Revenge

My story (which is VERY NSFW in some parts) is currently in the works by a human woman who goes by the name of K, and will span the entire stretch of all three Hobbit films. While the creative process is well underway, many details and plans for the story are still in the beginning stages. But if you want to be updated on the progress or know when new chapters are being released, comment your @ below or send me a message and I will be sure to keep a list of people interested.

---

Trigger Warnings:

From the author: While I won't spoiler the details yet, know that this story covers themes of:

sexually explicit scenes/smut (marked; sometimes self-indulgent but often necessary to the plot)

ONE scene of dubcon/r@pe that will be CLEARLY marked (please take care of your own mental health)

forced intoxication/drugging (not used for r@pe/sexual purposes)

profanity/cursing (shockingly, Lady Raven has quite a mouth/mind on her sometimes. Plus, we all know Thorin HATES elves. Both traditional and fantasy)

fantasy violence

war (canon)

gold sickness/madness (canon for Thorin)

blood/mild gore

character death (Happy Ending: the Durins live in the BOTFA)

PTSD

physical and mental trauma

anxiety/panic attacks

alcohol use (elves and dwarves love their alcohol)

yandere/controlling relationship

polyamory/multiple partners (there is complete commitment between those in the relationship, but I know this is not everyone's cup of tea)

racism (fantasy race - elf vs dwarf)

fire (Raven is a fire mage and there's a dragon so...yeah)

and SPIDERS!!! I'm looking at you, Mirkwood :/

I plan to post my story to AO3 since my word count is currently ridiculously high. (95k and I'm not even through AUJ, yikes!)

The first chapter (the prologue essentially) will be available to read this Friday (11/22) both here on Tumblr and AO3, but all chapters after that will only be posted to AO3 since they are SO LONG.

---

If anyone is interested in being a beta reader/proofreader, please let me know! I like the editing process, but sometimes my eyes are just too tired, y'know? :)

[raraeavesmoriendi]

I just finished last night and I have some questions for people who have read mike bockoven’s fantasticland -

[for those who have not:

- take a climate change-charged hurricane that’s the worst noaa has seen in recent memory and the first to hit daytona beach since 1960

- throw it at a Not-Disney-World Florida theme park with major national nostalgia, where a bunch of the Not-Disney College Program kids and some adult staff have opted to get paid extra to stay inside the park through the storm to prevent looting

- watch as people trapped within the park for more than a month - still with plenty of food and water, mind you - lose their minds, fragment into factions, and begin going full battle royale/lord of the flies on each other

- tell the whole thing testimonial style with different witnesses interviewed each chapter, a la World War Z, with some insanely unreliable narrators to boot

if that sounds like your kind of horror novel, give it a go. it’s not perfect (especially when they call the factions ‘tribes,’ which. yikes.) but I tore through it in like, two days.]

okay, questions below, spoilers for the novel:

1. …is the pirate who comforted the little boy who was evacuating, in interview three with the kansas city dad, Brock Hockley? am I reading too much into that?

like. I don’t remember that we ever get a description of him, so I don’t know about the “weird beard/mustache thing” the dad describes, but just. the emphasis put on “I’d like to shake his hand. I might even give him a hug.” feels so purposeful. part of me wonders if that’s supposed to add some further hindsight horror to what happened in the park and then his prison interview. he says early that he found making little kids happy a fulfilling and rewarding part of his job as a character actor in the park, and we know other people found him charismatic enough to follow, not just because they were scared but bc he could have these moments of surface-level charm or rationality (the code, etc.)

idk, I just thought it felt a bit too one-off to read it as Just Some Guy. but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I could be wrong.

2. we never get any hint as to the identity of the warthog couple, right? I remember the FNG found their masks discarded outside the World Circus, they’re first mentioned in the book as hanging around/inside the circus, and the guy from the Dreamland Hotel interview talks about still getting postcards from them whenever he moves (scariest part of the whole book for me ngl), so we can assume they were walked out with the rest of the survivors. I just wasn’t sure if there was anything else to do with them that I missed.

I’m still thinking about the fact that they turned the Dreamland lobby into a torture theater. like… who was that for? just for them, or did they have an audience? probably not, right? since they weren’t affiliated with anyone? but still. also, who were they taking there, just people they could pick off???

hmm. I wonder if any casualties thought to be faction-related were actually theirs.

3. in Travis’s interview (the guy with the body camera), do we know who the girl is that they found in the crawlspace of the employee locker room? the one whispering “Mommy” over and over? there were enough survivors left that she could be someone we didn’t encounter before, but I just thought I’d check that there wasn’t some other interview where someone describes a girl running off to hide. the Anonymous shopgirl mentioned one of the girls disappeared during the cannon raid on Pirate turf with the Deadpool soldiers before they turned on each other, so I wondered if it could be her.

4. Brock in his interview mentions that Sam Garlieck’s people were terrorizing others during the power outage in the storm shelter, specifically mentioning an instance of sexual assault. does anyone else corroborate this in their interview? Adam Jakes sounds skeptical, saying his research would have turned that up by now, but the only people we really hear from about that period are Sam himself (obviously an unreliable narrator, like, duh) and Stuart Dietz, who mentioned that Sam definitely killed Maria Flynn. did anyone see any other mentions of this anywhere, or did we just move straight out of the storm shelters and never talk about them again once we get to the park? is this just Brock being an unreliable narrator himself to justify how things went down? (but then why would he need to be, when Bryce definitely died?? although he himself says that wasn’t as big a motivator as people writing about him want it to be, so maybe that’s moot)

5. not really a question just an observation: Stuart Dietz, the maintenance guy/Mole Man, is the only person to get two interviews in the entire novel. Not Sam, not Jill, not Brock. I don’t know, I just find that really interesting why he was selected to come back twice. I know part of it is to describe the botched demolition, but I’m also wondering what effect it has on the novel that the only person we hear from multiple times is an older dude from one of the pointedly non-aggressive factions.

6. in looking through posts already in the tag, I don’t quite follow some readers’ comments that there was an attempt at a “cell phones bad!!” message here. I feel like every time it’s come up, it’s been shown by Adam Jakes (author stand-in) to be minimizing what really happened and looking for an easy scapegoat. I don’t think that was part of the intended story at all, I think it’s just been stated over and over as people using an excuse to not think themselves capable of similar violence. just wanted to put that out there.

anyway. one of my favorite things about novels with multi-witness perspectives is finding threads that leave off in one person’s story and pick up in another, so I’m going through my digital copy and highlighting all the places two different interviews tie together (Austin’s fate, the guy who botched branding Adrienne as part of his Pirate initiation, etc.)

if anyone else has noticed anything interesting, I’m all ears 👀

[chicgeekgirl89]

Chapter 2 is Here!

Tagging: @lemonlyman-dotcom and @kiwichaeng

T.K. stares directly into Paul’s eyes without blinking. His face is completely neutral, his body still. There’s no possible way—

“Got any eights?”

“Damn it Paul!” T.K. explodes, throwing a card down on the table that Paul sweeps up victoriously. “You have to be cheating!”

“Not cheating,” Paul says, a smug smile on his face. “Just very good at reading your tells.”

“I don’t have a tell!” T.K. gripes.

Paul places his eights on the table, spreading them out so everyone can see. “That’s what you think.”

“This game is not fun when you’re losing,” Mateo says sadly, looking at his hand, which is very full of cards.

“Marj, you got any fives?” Paul asks and she rolls her eyes as she hands them over. “Ooooh I am never doing dishes again!” he says happily.

Despite his annoyance at his teammate, there’s a spiral of happiness swirling through T.K. This feels normal. It feels good. The last year has been hell, but he finally feels like he can breathe again.

Leaving New York for Austin had sucked. In a lot of ways it still does. But he’s been going to meetings, going to therapy, and having the 126 at his back has helped a lot. The world still seems grey, but that’s an improvement over the black sucking hole his life had become after Alex rejected his proposal and sent him spiraling toward the grave. 

Oddly enough, the thing that helped the most was getting shot. That had also sucked, but the way the team had rallied around him after has helped to sharpen the edges of the fuzzy world he’s been living in. They care. They love him. They’re family.

And now he’s finally back on active duty. He’d shown up last week to his first shift and found a banner and a cake and decorations all over his locker. For a moment the world had flickered into color again, just a flash of what life could be if he was, you know, happy. It had gone away as quickly as it had come, but it had given him just a tiny bit of hope. Like maybe things could be okay again. Maybe he could be okay again. 

Paul has finally run out his turn and Marjan is trying to get Judd to give her nines that he obviously doesn’t have. T.K.’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, frowning at the unfamiliar number on the screen.

Random Number

[8:32pm] Hey, I had a good time the other night. Would love to hear more about that trip to Croatia sometime.

“Well that’s a face.” His dad’s voice cuts through the ribbing of the game as he joins them at the table, an espresso in hand. “What could possibly be in that text message that’s got you looking like that?”

“Some random person texted me the other day and they just did it again,” T.K. says. “Must be a wrong number.”

“You sure?” Mateo asks. “One time I thought I was getting random texts asking me on a date and I kept deleting them. Turns out it was my dentist reminding me of the date of my appointment. I missed it and they charged me like a hundred bucks.”

“Yikes probie,” Marjan says with a grimace, shuffling through her cards again.

“It’s not my dentist,” T.K. tells them.

“Just ignore ‘em,” Judd says. “No point in wasting your time wondering. Delete the text.”

“Or text back and ask who it is,” Paul says. “Could be a Nigerian prince who thinks you’re very beautiful and will give you many riches if you just send him a check for a thousand dollars first.”

“Shut up,” T.K. says with a roll of his eyes. 

“Just text them back. They should know it’s a wrong number,” Owen says.

T.K. considers this then starts typing.

T.K.

[8:34pm] Who is this?

Random Number

[8:37pm] Carlos. From the bar. We kissed, remember?

Carlos? T.K.’s mind goes completely blank. He’s not sure he’s ever met anyone named Carlos in his entire life. And he definitely hasn’t been kissing guys in bars lately. Things have been…incredibly dry in that department. Getting shot sort of sucks the libido right out of you and so far he hasn’t had the energy to try and find his dating mojo again.

He frowns and types back.

T.K.

[8:38pm] I don’t remember kissing anybody at a bar recently…

“T.K., your turn,” Judd prompts him.

“Sorry,” T.K. says, watching distractedly as three bubbles pop up on his screen and then looks hurriedly at his cards. “Marj, any aces?”

“Go fish.”

He grabs a card from the pile and adds it to his hand then glances back down at his phone. Holy hell.

Whoever this Carlos guy is, he’s sent a selfie and he’s hot as fuck. T.K.’s eyes take in dark, wild curls and a set of broad, muscled shoulders. Below that is a six pack worthy of an Oscar that tapers to a cut V along this guy’s hips, disappearing into his low slung shorts. His pecs are so defined they look photoshopped. He’s gorgeous. T.K. has never seen anyone like him.

“Whoa.”

T.K. startles when he realizes Marjan is leaning over his shoulder so she can stare at his phone. “Who is that?” she asks, nearly as awed as he is.

“The guy that’s been texting me,” T.K. says, trying to cool the blush that’s heating up his face. He’s not even sure why he’s blushing. It’s just a picture. 

“Ooh lemme see!” Mateo gets up in a flurry of cards.

“Hey! Aw hell,” Judd says, throwing his hand down, the game now ruined.

“Damn. That guy is BUILT,” Mateo says. “Text him and ask him what his workout routine is.”

“Better yet, text him back and ask him out,” Paul says, crowding in behind T.K.’s chair. 

“I’m not going to ask him out,” T.K. says, pushing the words past his throat and wishing he’d chosen somewhere more private for this. “I’ll just tell him I’m not whoever he thinks I am.”

“Are you crazy?” Marjan asks, shoving his shoulder. “Who cares if he thinks you’re someone else? That man is gorgeous. If you don’t do something about it, you’re stupid.”

“I agree,” Paul says.

“Me too!” Mateo pipes up.

“Do I get a vote?” Judd asks.

“Well apparently everybody else does, so why not?” T.K. huffs.

“I vote we get back to this game and stop gawking over some guy’s picture.”

“I believe the kids call it a ‘thirst trap’,” Owen says, joining the throng and peering down at T.K.’s phone. “It’s mean to attract potential sexual partners by increasing desire.”

“Okay thanks Dad,” T.K. says, pushing his chair back and forcing them all to scatter. “I think I’ll handle this on my own.”

They all protest as he heads to the bunk room, but he ignores them, grateful when the door closes and there’s nothing but quiet. 

He sinks down onto his bed and studies the text again, pulling the photo up and zooming in a little, his eyes drinking in perfect bronze skin and muscles. God. Whoever this Carlos thinks he’s texting is extremely lucky. T.K. reluctantly texts back.

T.K.

[8:49pm] Hey, sorry, I really have no idea who you are.

Hot Guy Carlos 

[8:50pm] This isn’t Deacon?

Deacon? T.K. snorts. What a pretentious asshole name. Then again, Tyler Kennedy isn’t exactly your standard Kyle or Chris either. But good to know Carlos is as gay as he looks.

T.K.

[8:51pm] Nope. I’m T.K.

He sends a selfie for good measure. One where he knows he looks hot. He’s wearing his AFD t-shirt and his eyes are doing that flirty sparkle thing he uses to drive men crazy. Because if Carlos is going to start texting the real Deacon instead, T.K. would at least like him to know what he’s missing. 

Three little dots pop up and second later a text comes through.

Hot Guy Carlos

[8:53pm] Oh my god. I’m so sorry.

T.K.

[8:53pm] No worries. 

And that’s the end of it. Right? Because when a random person texts you and you graciously explain that they have the wrong number, you don’t continue to text. No matter how breathtaking they are.

T.K. pulls up the photo again and his heart clenches in his chest. Everything around him seems grey, but this photo is stunning technicolor.

He saves it to his camera roll.