#was into the story! just felt a little. blindsided i suppose

[lillydonfort]

okay them asking for money at the end just to double your rewards if you replay the chapter has made my impression go closer into full negative zone

[dollwritesarchive]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!prize!reader, dub con, manhandling, rough sex degradation / barou being mean, name calling ( whore, bitch ), all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ my toxic valentine masterlist. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading <; 3

“Con— gratu— lations!” you spat in between ragged breaths, your brows knit tight together, your features twisted in both pain and unwilling pleasure. each syllable seemed to erupt from your lips, shot out by the force of Barou’s hips pounding into yours from behind. each time, you bite back a hoarse squeak, your feet stomping on the floor. you could feel the grate in his locker imprinting against your cheek the harder he pushed your head against it, his other hand was clasping your wrist— the hand that you’d used previously to attempt to coerce him into a gentler victory celebration now successfully restrained.

Barou was snorting through his flared nostrils, dark eyes wild  with lust and adrenaline, and each time he bucks his powerful hips, he fills you to his hilt, and none too gently. “You don’t seem very excited for me.”

you bite down harshly on your lower lip; his voice was deep and raspy, and the hot puffs of breath on the back of your neck as he fucks you like a feral animal raised your hairs on end.

“I was promised an eager fucktoy,” it was a hiss, as if he were disappointed in your services. however, his body told a completely different story. he was throbbing in your guts, and each time he rams into your depths, you pull yourself forward against the locker. with nowhere to go, you tremble, impaled on him. “Instead, I get a whiny bitch that can barely even take me.”

your hand, the one not balled into a tight fist down and wrenched behind you, pushes flat against the locker, trying to push back against his strength— just to get your face off the harsh, cold metal. “I’m— trying—“ you whimper, indignant. you typically didn’t mind your stay or your contract in Blue Lock; most of the boys were needy, but never hurt you. this was your first time with the beast that was Barou Shoei, and you were blindsided by just how little he cared about your body. he twisted you up into whatever position he desired, like you were nothing but elastic, and fucked you so brutally that you knew you’d be sore for days to come. you could only hope that the next victor would be content with using your mouth instead.  “y—you’re being too rough, that h— hurts!” you felt as though you were being ripped open. with each, greedy thrust, Barou was battering your limit, and he didn’t seem to plan on stopping any time soon.

“‘Cause you keep trying to run from my cock,” Barou  released your wrist and your face simultaneously, both hands clamping against your shoulders to lock you in place. naturally, both of yours follow, nails biting at his forearms. maybe you were just trying to hold on to something as he drilled you with more aggression, as if emphasizing his following point. “I know it hurts, but I wouldn’t have to be so rough if you would just be still and take it, like you’re supposed to.” your calf muscles burned, and that when you realized you were struggling on your tip toes, the velocity of each thrust nearly sweeping you off your feet. “Come on, whore,” he snarls, grinding his teeth, “stick it out for me. Give it up.” you were practically screaming— the shrill moans hardly even sounding like yourself, but you obey. arching your back as tight as it would go, your feet dangled just above the floor as the strength behind his merciless fucking took over. as if you were perched on his lap, his lower half supports your weight so he can pound upwards, and you slammed down to meet him. 

“Fuck!” you cry out, planting your palms on either side of your ass, fingers pressing into the muscle pads of his lower abdomen. like caressing pure steel. if you could just get a moment of reprieve, push yourself up and away from his pistoning hips, you could try to regain some control over your own body. but he was granting none of it. 

his fists grip your waist instead, both hands so massive that you swear he can almost interlace his fingers around you, and he pulls you down harder. “That’s better,” he grunts in approval; the bestial edge to his voice in your ear eliciting a surprised mewl, “now you’re starting to sound like you like it.” 

[chikai-k]

We Need A Break.

•| Kaveh X Male Reader, hints of Alhaitham X Kaveh

•| Notes: So angst with the characters as parents right? I haven't written in a long time and all so this might be a bit janky in terms of execution. I feel like the ending is a little awkward but it's whatever, I just wanted to get something out 😞 It was originally gonna be Aether since my debut was an Aether fic but I decided I wanted to add my bbg Kaveh to my list of characters hehe also wrote this at 3-4am :)

•| CW: Kaveh is the baby momma🤧, male reader, cheating accusations, arguments, break? divorce?

Here we go.

It's unhealthy to subject your daughter to this.

She doesn't deserve to hear your problems.

You and Kaveh have tried everything in your power to keep the issue away from her attention, to make sure she can't see the cracks forming.

How Kaveh would tuck her to bed, holding back a grimace as he spots the time. He tries his best to stall, she can tell. Kaveh doesn't want to leave her side. How his sweet voice would read her bed time stories as slowly as he could, sometimes staring at her with soft eyes as he presses a goodnight kiss on her forehead. She is his baby. He loves her with every part of his being.

She knows something's wrong. She could sense it before but you two can't keep quiet when the arguments get heated downstairs. She can hear you two from the floor. She can hear you throwing accusations, hear the crack in Kaveh's voice when he says he's not seeing his co worker—but you just won't drop it.

"I see the way you two look at each other." You say, "I see the way you guys give subtle touches." You know that they're probably texting each other about things to do when you're working. "The neighbours themselves have testified that they've seen Alhaitham enter our home when I'm at work for fucks sake! Stop lying to me." You growl, teeth baring at him as your face is flushed in anger, fist clenching by your side.

Kaveh hiccups and shakes his head, "Please, I'm telling you, we're not! Why won't you believe me?" His hand is gripping his wrist and is tucked close to his chest as if protecting himself. He doesn't know what went wrong.

"Then tell me why he's been visiting so much when I'm out! It's not like he's here for our daughter is he? She's always in school, so what else could he be here for?!"

"I—I can't—" Kaveh shook, how was he supposed to explain? He's not cheating, he swear but...

"Bullshit. You and that Alhaitham guy—ugh—" You inhale, your hand shooting up to brush your hair angrily. Tempted to slam it down the counter but you'd risk waking up your daughter from the noise. Hm.

Kaveh eyes your fist warily. He never knew you as physical so he wasn't worried—hoping he didn't need to but with how the tension was going, he was afraid he'd get hurt."What's so different about him and me? Is it the muscles? The income? The looks?" You seethed through your teeth, blindsided by the jealousy that you'd missed the way he stepped back cautiously. "Or did you just fall out of love for me? Or is he secretly our daughter's real father?" You huffed, closing your eyes as you tugged at your hair.

Usually, Kaveh would give you a massage, whisper sweet things and gently pull of your fingers from your hair out of concern. But how could he when he was...scared?

"N-no, I love you." Kaveh hiccuped once more, "I..." He bit his lip as he couldn't help the the tears from spilling. He couldn't bring himself to mean it. It felt forced, like he was saying it to survive and saying it felt wrong. I love you is supposed to be affectionate and meaningful, not like this.

"I think..." He sighs as he watches you gaze back, once furious expression softening in realisation at what he was about to say. "I think we need a break. To cool our head...I'm sorry." He struggles to finish, flinching as you attempt to approach him. Right now, he didn't know who you were. Actually, he hadn't know who you were for the past couple of months.

He just needs some space to breath, to find the words to tell you why Alhaitham had been visiting...

[dollwrites]

𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐞𝐢

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!prize!reader, dub con, manhandling, rough sex degradation / barou being mean, name calling ( whore, bitch ), all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ originally posted on 02.15.2023. this will eventually be a reverse harem au just give me some time to set it up. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading <3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ the beast and the harlot by avenged sevenfold

“Con— gratu— lations!” you spat in between ragged breaths, your brows knit tight together, your features twisted in both pain and unwilling pleasure. each syllable seemed to erupt from your lips, shot out by the force of Barou’s hips pounding into yours from behind. each time, you bite back a hoarse squeak, your feet stomping on the floor. you could feel the grate in his locker imprinting against your cheek the harder he pushed your head against it, his other hand was clasping your wrist— the hand that you’d used previously to attempt to coerce him into a gentler victory celebration now successfully restrained.

Barou was snorting through his flared nostrils, dark eyes wild with lust and adrenaline, and each time he bucks his powerful hips, he fills you to his hilt, and none too gently. “You don’t seem very excited for me.”

you bite down harshly on your lower lip; his voice was deep and raspy, and the hot puffs of breath on the back of your neck as he fucks you like a feral animal raised your hairs on end.

“I was promised an eager fucktoy,” it was a hiss, as if he were disappointed in your services. however, his body told a completely different story. he was throbbing in your guts, and each time he rams into your depths, you pull yourself forward against the locker. with nowhere to go, you tremble, impaled on him. “Instead, I get a whiny bitch that can barely even take me.”

your hand, the one not balled into a tight fist down and wrenched behind you, pushes flat against the locker, trying to push back against his strength— just to get your face off the harsh, cold metal. “I’m— trying—“ you whimper, indignant. you typically didn’t mind your stay or your contract in Blue Lock; most of the boys were needy, but never hurt you. this was your first time with the beast that was Barou Shoei, and you were blindsided by just how little he cared about your body. he twisted you up into whatever position he desired, like you were nothing but elastic, and fucked you so brutally that you knew you’d be sore for days to come. you could only hope that the next victor would be content with using your mouth instead. “y—you’re being too rough, that h— hurts!” you felt as though you were being ripped open. with each, greedy thrust, Barou was battering your limit, and he didn’t seem to plan on stopping any time soon.

“‘Cause you keep trying to run from my cock,” Barou released your wrist and your face simultaneously, both hands clamping against your shoulders to lock you in place. naturally, both of yours follow, nails biting at his forearms. maybe you were just trying to hold on to something as he drilled you with more aggression, as if emphasizing his following point. “I know it hurts, but I wouldn’t have to be so rough if you would just be still and take it, like you’re supposed to.” your calf muscles burned, and that when you realized you were struggling on your tip toes, the velocity of each thrust nearly sweeping you off your feet. “Come on, whore,” he snarls, grinding his teeth, “stick it out for me. Give it up.” you were practically screaming— the shrill moans hardly even sounding like yourself, but you obey. arching your back as tight as it would go, your feet dangled just above the floor as the strength behind his merciless fucking took over. as if you were perched on his lap, his lower half supports your weight so he can pound upwards, and you slammed down to meet him.

“Fuck!” you cry out, planting your palms on either side of your ass, fingers pressing into the muscle pads of his lower abdomen. like caressing pure steel. if you could just get a moment of reprieve, push yourself up and away from his pistoning hips, you could try to regain some control over your own body. but he was granting none of it.

his fists grip your waist instead, both hands so massive that you swear he can almost interlace his fingers around you, and he pulls you down harder. “That’s better,” he grunts in approval; the bestial edge to his voice in your ear eliciting a surprised mewl, “now you’re starting to sound like you like it.”

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

John Price x Journalist Reader

Gaz conducts a plan to set his Captain back up with an old flame of his. He'd hoped to recruit help from Laswell. However, the CIA operative wasn't as optimistic about this whole "reunion" as the Sergeant.

Fluff, Banter, Light Reading, Sappy Romance, One That Got Away Trope, Setting up Dates, Gaz just being an inquisitive sort, slight Character Study on Price

WC: 1.5k~

Prelude | Chapter One | Chapter Three

Masterlist

So I'm sorry to say that Price and the Reader are not in this chapter, as it is centered around Gaz and Laswell.

However, Price and the Reader are the topic matter of the entire chapter. I'm legit trying to tell a story versus it being kinda self-indulgent and smutty like my other stuff. However, we'll get there at some point, maybe 😏

Please Enjoy!

Chapter Two

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Kyle."

Gaz gives Laswell a slack-jaw look, though it does little to sway the CIA operative on her stance -- this was just something she would not involve herself with.

Of course, the Sergeant hadn't been content with a simple no. In fact, all day he's been at Laswell's side, his presence just around every corner, lingering a little longer each time. Anything in the hopes of finally convincing her to see some worth to what he was trying to suggest. After all, this plan wouldn't work without her.

Or... at least, he'd have to come up with something new if this didn't pan out, and that felt like more work than this. Though thus far, convincing her has only been an uphill battle.

"Oh, come on Kate," Gaz begins to whine, rather childishly, brown eyes growing deceptively puppy dog-like, a hidden talent of his, or rather a subliminal quirk. "You're telling me you can't help at all?"

Laswell sets her fork down beside her salad, knowing she wouldn't be able to eat how she'd like with the Sergeant still seated in her office. The woman had hoped she'd finally escaped him on her lunch break; the building was usually dead at this hour, seeing as the others were off contending to their own devices.

It had been the perfect timing to finally have a proper sit-down if you asked Gaz.

"I mean, really think about it," Gaz tries to explain his plan to the woman one more time. "We just throw a small little get-together, nothin' too fancy. All you'd be doin' is hosting, which is nothin' new for you. Then, we just invite them both over and simply... let things play out. Easy."

"Except you would be blindsiding them," Laswell says.

"Not blindsiding," Gaz retorts. "More like... surprising them. Look, it'd be doin' 'em both a favor I'm sure, yeah?"

"Look, it's not that I don't want to," she starts. "I just know it's a lost cause. Think of this as me trying to save you some time."

"Sheesh," he sighs. "That bad then, huh?"

"And then some, Kyle."

Kate gets back to eating the croutons she'd been picking through her salad for. She didn't want to ask when it was that Gaz would be leaving, however, she wouldn't complain if he did.

Gaz continued to leisurely spin in the spare rolling chair in Kate's office, sighing to himself in contemplative thought.

That bad and then some, huh? He thought. Gaz struggled to imagine a scenario where such animosity could exist between someone and the Captain. And yet this supposed relationship between him and you had existed, and the Sergeant couldn't be more intrigued by it.

"Well, what happened?"

"She cheated on him."

Gaz's mouth goes agape, his tone completely defeated. "No... really?"

Kate smirks. "No."

Laswell laughs to herself once she sees the sigh of relief the Sergeant releases. The woman's career revolved around secrets and lies. It figures her idea of fun would be pulling the Sergeant's leg.

Of course, the man's a good sport about it, chuckling to himself once he realizes it's a joke. For a second there, he really thought this had all been a waste of time.

"Seriously though," he says. "What happened?"

"To be honest with you, I still don't know," Kate admits. "Neither of them felt too up to talking about it when it happened. I just know that some kind of argument occurred, and they split up the following day. But I don't want to be the one to air out the Captain's dirty laundry, Kyle."

Laswell sinks back in her seat, thinking back on those days after the split. She had seen war slowly harden Price over the years, as it had done to all of them. For a while, he went through great efforts to try and keep a healthy work balance between that and his personal life.

Losing you had made something in him turn to stone, however. As though some other part of him had died, made up abundantly clear by the increase of his work. More eager to take assignments, less so to be home. Ops that had him away for months at a time became his favorite, and when those ops had finished, he went out to find more.

And by the time he'd become Captain, that time with his former lover merely became a bedtime lullaby for him, growing fainter by the years. No one ever really heard him talk about love again. Not until Gaz brought it up.

"So who was she anyway?" he asks. "Price said she was a friend of yours."

Kate chuckles to herself, seeing how observant the Sergeant had been in his conversation with the Captain. "That's right," she confirms. "A family friend."

"What was she like?"

"She was... is... a very interesting woman, to say the least," Kate sighs. "I can't really describe her; she was a lot of things."

"Not even a little?"

Kate thinks to herself for a moment, having gone through all the croutons in her salad now. "She was definitely a firecracker, always getting into some kind of trouble. She spoke her mind freely too. It didn't matter what it was; if a thought crossed her mind, at some point, you'd hear about it."

"Hmm," Gaz grins. "I don't know if that's what I was picturing. But, I guess I can see the vision."

"I was just as surprised," Kate says. "But... they stayed together for a long time. Six years, if I'm not mistaken."

Gaz's eyes grow wide at that fact. Longer than any relationship the Sergeant's ever been in. Though, it hadn't been for a lack of trying. Six years. That's not just enough time to know someone, that's enough time to be another half of them, at that point. Not a lifelong love, but someone who did once matter.

"So who shit the bed?"

"That would be John." Kate didn't even have to think about that one.

Gaz shrugs, having not been too surprised by that answer.

However, she then adds only seconds later, "Though... it's complicated."

"How so?"

"From my understanding, it hadn't just been an argument," Laswell says. "Honestly, I'd almost say life is what ended their relationship."

“And you really think she wouldn’t want to see him again?” he asks.

Kate pauses, short of an answer for a moment. It gives Gaz the drive to keep looking her in the eyes and pressing the matter.

"Why do you want this so bad?" she asks. No doubt, she'd been curious as to what it was that was driving Kyle to go into full investigation mode about this.

The man pauses, trying to come up with the right words to say, as he already knew his answer from the start.

Kyle thinks back on the Captain, and all the times he's seen him alone while the others had each other, wanting to be content with that. Adoring their love from afar, so he'd have something to warm him on his lonesome way home.

He thinks about that look Price had on his face the other day when he finally told him about this mysterious woman for the first time. As though he couldn't wait to talk about her again, given the opportunity.

"I just think it would be good for him."

Kate's expression softens at the Sergeant's words. Understanding that want he held to be there for Price. She's been there herself, many times before. And it makes her wonder.

She’s moved passed her matchmaking days, having tried to find Price a good match since she’s known him. Gaz’s determination to take up the mantle had been admirable to see, however.

The woman sighs, having finally been broken down by Kyle's stubbornness to not drop the subject.

“Look, I can help,” she says. “But if this backfires, I’m leaving damage control to you.”

Gaz practically jumps in his seat.

“Deal!”

Chapter Three Here!

I wanted this to be both character and plot development, so I can set up where this story is going.

The next chapter jumps back to 10 years ago, maybe a day or so after the last chapter. Price and Reader are going to have yet another cute encounter. It will be much longer than this chapter, hopefully. Stay Tuned!

~Also, I'm quoting a poem from Charlotte Erikkson - You're Doing Just Fine. I was gonna credit them at the end of the series, but I just wanted you to know so it didn't look like I was stealing their quotes!

@embers-of-alluring @quincessimus @urfavsunkissedleo @lacunaanonymoused @deadbranch @poohkie90 @glitterypirateduck @homicidal-slvt @random-thot-generator

If you don't wanna be tagged, please let me know! And on the flip, if you do want to be tagged for the next chapter, also please let me know! I feel super awkward tagging people unless they explicitly state it (I don't like to impose, I just wanted to tag people I thought were interested in the next chapter 😭)

dividers from animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[shortpplfedup]

Chapter 4: The Midnight of Lifetime

Oy what a mess. Alan fully enters the story in this ep and we start to understand exactly what the hell is going on there. Newsflash: it's as heartbreaking as everything else in this show. We're at the halfway mark now, all the pins have been set up and it's time to start knocking them down one by one, because now we're invested.

We still don't know the inciting incident for the cold war between Wen and Alan, nor why they're still sharing a life despite being very clearly over, but we can guess at some of it. Wen's talked about living paycheque to paycheque, so it's very likely when the relationship ended he couldn't afford to move out. Alan is still trying to save the relationship, so he probably hoped that by letting Wen stay, proximity would breed forgiveness for whatever transgression he committed. It seems like partly for the sake of appearances, and partly in the hope that Wen will relent, he's asked Wen to conceal their breakup as part of the deal. Wen meeting somebody new is the destruction of all of Alan's hopes of reconciliation. Of course he would freak the fuck out. The whole thing's rotten, as resentment is heaped atop resentment, misery atop misery.

Meeting Jim was clearly a catalysing event for Wen. It's like he was sleepwalking and that night with Jim was a bucket of cold water dashed into his face. And every day since, every day he watches Jim live his life trying to do the best he can by the people he loves, he craves more and more to be one of those people. A situation that was unpleasant yet manageable has now become untenable, because he's seen how things could be. I appreciate that he didn't want to bring his mess to Jim's door, especially because 'complicated' is his line in the sand, but by not telling him anything he let him get blindsided instead. Wen's dad and Gong both warned him not to cross the streams, but he couldn't stay away from Jim until he could get away from Alan, he just couldn't.

To be fair to Wen though, he's not the only one who complicated things. Jim did that when he hired Wen, when he brought him into his little family even as he knew how Wen felt about him. Jim's a bit unfair, he clearly wants Wen around, he wants him in his life, but only on his terms, where he never has to risk his own feelings. He's clearly traumatised by what happened with Beam, to the point that he can't even contemplate a relationship that is both familial and romantic with Wen. In his mind, he gets to have one or the other but never both. Alan showing up shatters the illusion of a neat and uncomplicated divide between Uncle Jim and Jim the man. Because he shouldn't care right, there isn't anything between him and Wen. But he does care, very much.

That divide between Uncle Jim and Jim the man is also at the crux of his ongoing battle with Li Ming. I wonder how long Li Ming has been living with Jim, and why he's there and not with his mom. Jim named him, and he would've been about twenty when he was born, old enough to have some hand in his early raising. It's clear Li Ming sees him as a father figure; as much as they fight and argue, when Jim lays down the law Li Ming is immediately contrite. He respects Jim, he knows Jim cares, he knows Jim is trying. But he also sees the ways in which Jim has given up on himself and it makes him angry, especially at the idea that Jim did that for him. Nobody wants to be thought of as someone's burden to bear. And Jim's so focused on Li Ming's future he's lost sight of the present, of what both he and Li Ming need now. I don't dream he told Wen, you think Li Ming can't see that? That he's given up Jim the man to be Uncle Jim? Think he doesn't internalise it, feel it, blame himself for it? Li Ming doesn't want to be the reason Jim works himself to death in that diner, living hand to mouth.

Li Ming's frustration with his uncle is in such clear contrast to the patience, the unending patience he has with Heart. In a way I suppose it's easier, because Heart doesn't ask anything of him, unlike the mountain of expectations from Jim. Them waking up together was so darling, the way they were just soft and silly with each other, how they're not too worried about defining what's happening between them, just understanding that they care deeply for each other and they're attracted to each other and they want to see each other happy. Heart pulling Li Ming out of his funk was so beautiful, because it reiterates that this isn't one-sided, Heart can do things for Li Ming too. I know Li Ming starting to sneak Heart out of the house is going to come back and bite them hard, but it made me cry that he took this risk to give Heart community, to give him people to talk to who could understand him. Because Li Ming gets that Heart needs more than just him. As much as he cares he can't translate the world for him. Heart needs to be able to be independent to be free, and Li Ming doesn't know anything about it, so he goes to people who do. And then he also asks what he needs to do for Heart as well as seeing what Heart needs to do for himself and...these two are breaking me, I'm telling you.

Side Dishes

I appreciate Gong being a Gym Gay, we don't get enough of those in BL.

I really like the energy and chemistry between Earth and Papang whenever we flash back to Jim and Beam's relationship.

The passage of time in this show is neatly marked by the holidays, and it is proceeding apace. This ep spans from the morning after Loy Krathong to Christmas Eve, almost 2 months!

Please don't let Saleng have pawned Praew's dowry...

Oh no it seems like Ms. Hong is sick...what is Gaipa going to do it if he loses his mom?

Has Li Ming asked Heart to go abroad with him? Is that why Heart has the flyer?

Next week it looks like all the bubbles everybody's been living in are going to start popping one by one. I have a knot in my stomach just thinking of the fallout from that motorcycle accident.

[teaandcharchives]

Constant Ticking

Fandom: Homestuck

Pairing: Johndavekat

Word Count: 761

Rating: T (language)

Summary: Life on the new Earth C is weird, but Dave is starting to get used to it.

(part of my trans!dave series, but you don't have to read the rest to get this)

Read on AO3 Here, or read on tumblr under cut

I was cleaning up my fanfic folder and I found this. It was written in like 2018 and left to sit because I was planning to expand it, but it felt like a nice little snapshot where it was, so I just wrapped up the last chapter and am posting it now, because Homestuck is the fandom equivalent to the Hotel California. Anyway, pretend it's a late birthday present for Dave, I suppose?

I currently do not have any other snippets anywhere near this level of complete (though I have one other one that's like half done) so I'm not sure if this story will ever be updated again but, like I said, Hotel California of fandoms.

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

Time is weird as fuck here. It’s your thing, but when you got here the more broad sweeping parts changed. Hours, minutes, seconds, the lengths of time you usually hop around, are all the same. But days, months, years? On the meteor it was all arbitrary. There was no sun to say what day and night were supposed to be, so it was up to you and you kept it on Earth time down to the second. 

But here? Here shit’s different. Jade tried to get the angles right, but the planet spins too slow- It’s 25 hours each day now- and it zooms around the new sun too fast-350 of the new days, which is about 364 and a half of the old. So, like, it’s close. It’s just enough to drive you nuts. 

Well, okay, you’ve adjusted to that bit, but no one else seems to understand why you feel inclined to say “in 36 hours and 24 minutes” instead of “X time tomorrow.” That’s really what drives you nuts. So you know the age of this universe down to the millisecond, but John blindsides you when he tells you it’s your birthday. 

Well shit, you should have known, really. You were at Jade’s and Jake’s joint party up until 42.5 hours ago. 

“How old are we again?” You ask. Well, with the jumps you’re 167,270.43 hours with rounding for some uncertainty with states of limbo between dimensions when time is meaningless and beyond even your grasp. But you don’t think that kind of thing is useful for him. 

For any of them but you and Aradia. 

“Nineteen! Well, I mean, you are. I’ve got to wait four more months.” 

Two thousand seven hundred and fifty hours, your brain translates. 

Karkat throws a pillow at him because it’s the crack of dawn. 

“What the fuck, Karkat? I brought food!” 

Karkat grumbles and buries his face in your chest. You wince slightly, but you know he’s not thinking. Doesn’t mean anything. You take your pillow and carefully extract yourself from him anyway, busily telling yourself that. 

“It's too goddamn early," you inform John.

"Pfft, says you."

You shake your head sadly. “You are a broken teenager,” You say. “A broken fucking teenager.” 

He left twenty-five minutes ago. The clock said it was 6:32 new time. And it’s December. Which is a really fucking stupid thing since they decided to make the months even, so this is now month fourteen in the fucking calendar. But Quattordecember sounds even more fucking stupid. 

John sticks his tongue out at you. “Or maybe you should start learning to be a functioning adult. I mean, you won’t even have the teenage excuse a year from today!” He gives you a plate of pancakes. And as much as you want to sass him more, there’s fucking blueberries in this and you missed blueberries so fucking much. 

It’s the little things. Now you just need to get coffee figured out. Still, the sludge will do. Anything to get that precious, precious caffeine into your veins. You take an extra mug and waft it under Karkat’s nose until he perks up enough to snatch it. 

“How long until we have to go all the way to the Crockers’ place?” You ask. 

The curtains are open, and out of the corner of your eye you see Jane stop shoveling to wave good morning to you. 

John waves back ecstatically before saying, “It’s at one.” 

“And you woke us up at 7 why?!” Karkat demands. 

“I was hungry and I didn’t wanna cook twice.” 

Karkat steals one of John’s pancakes and takes a massive bite out of it. “None for you, then, asshole.” He says through his teeth. 

John just laughs and takes one of his, making sure to cover the rest of his plate in syrup so Karkat’s hands will get sticky if he tries to take anymore. Unfortunately for John, you are a little shit and you have a fork. All of the pancakes have probably been on every single plate by the time you’re done, and they’ve dripped all over the sheets. But most of it’s on John, so you still consider that a victory.

You realize you haven’t thought about time once since John came in. The clock is always ticking in the back of your mind, as it has been since you entered the game, but the sound is quieter when you’re not alone. It’s an adjustment, but as long as they're around you think you'll eventually get used to this. 

[theinyshlobster]

camp zero by michelle min sterling [review]

read from july 27th - august 2nd

review

first and foremost — YO I JUST MET MY 2024 READING GOAL! 60TH BOOK OF 2024 WHO CHEERED!

anyways i need to be real. this book was really confusing for my tiny little pea brain. i will admit i think i might have liked this story a bit more if i had read it at a different time. like im so serious i have no critical thinking right now. changing to a new antidepressant coupled with a cold? yeah i have about zero reading comprehension at the moment so take everything i say critiquing this book with a grain of salt. hell i might come back to this book in 6 months and give it an extra star cuz i did really enjoy this book at times! but idk i don’t think i can give this 4-stars when i was confused for a good chunk of the book 💀

most of my confusion i think comes from what the character’s motivations are and why they’re doing xyz. rose, judith, the barber, the foreman, garreth & merley or whatever the fuck his name was, none of their motivations made logical sense to me. yet again i am not one to talk about logic when i am literally noncoherent in daily conversations & my memory is of a goldfish. like gun to my head i cant figure out what the M guy’s actual goal was, or damien/damian (i’m gonna go with the ‘a’ spelling & if im wrong sue me). i am still confused by that.

i am also confused about the time period this takes place in, as well as the actual setting. yeah i know its in canada and its snowy and shit. but like do the girls live in a mall? where is gareth living? what even was the camp supposed to be?

the ending was lowkey kinda fire, i did not see those reveals coming (but tbh you could’ve given me a mystery novel where the killer literally confessed on the first page & i still would’ve been blindsided at the moment). i really loved the white alice chapters and as things slowly started to make more sense i was having the time of my life. but when those reveals only come with 20% of the book left….. i mean like i said i cant 4-star it.

the characters themselves were….. fine. rose was likeable most of the time. i really couldn’t work out her motivations or her true thoughts by the end. willow was also fine. judith was meh. the other blooms were literally non-characters. garreth was insufferable. the rest of the male characters were fine. i still don’t really get the barber’s motivations by the end regarding him & rose but 🤷 im not mad at it. same applies to M-guy what the fuck was he trying to do at the end. numbskull

the plot was… Ok! the actual story felt like it was going nowhere, but like i said i absolutely loved the white alice chapters. give me an entire book expanding on those chapters & im sold. those chapters kinda remind me of ‘i who have never known men’ and i adored that book so!

the preachy messages about the patriarchy and men sucking got tiring at times. yes i know men suck. they are opportunists and shallow and see women as objects and blah blah blah. sorry you’ve said your message to me, now do something with it. i mean the book kind of did at the end with white alice & rose but… idk more should’ve been done with that. i really liked the grimy vibe of this book. idk what more to say about that it had a real edgy vibe that i liked.

i have a feeling this review is all over the place (when are my reviews not) but anyways. i had a good time. i found this book average. probably shouldn’t have read this whilst my brain is mush. i defo want to come back to this in the future and see if i enjoy it more when i can actually think coherently. anyways off i go to increase my reading goal now that ive met it with *checks calendar* FOUR MONTHS LEFT OF 2024.

god speed

[dark-horse76]

Enfield and Me

(in which I ramble on... and on... and on about Enfield... and me xd)

The Enfield Gang Massacre is my favourite comic, and it lives rent-free in my head. Last time I wrote about Enfield, I wrote that the reasons I love Enfield have to do with Enfield itself (the story/artwork), some of which I could talk about but many of which I can't because I don't yet have the knowledge or the words, and personal reasons that for the most part I couldn't sort out and were just a big, messy question. Both sides have started to become a bit clearer. (Although, I suppose I have to caveat that there's not necessarily a very clear distinction between the two sides - they are definitely intertwined in many places xd.)

So, in this, I'm going to attempt to sort out some of my messy thoughts and feelings around Enfield. Buckle up, kids xd

Firstly, I think I should reiterate that I got Enfield not expecting to like it. It has the words "gang" and "massacre" in the title, and I'm fairly sure some of the early press around it described it as "brutal". These are signs that something will not be my kind of thing (not that I really know what my kind of thing is anymore rofl)! Then why, you might ask, did I add it to my subscription list soon after it was announced and read it in the first place?

Two answers: Because I'd read issue 14 of That Texas Blood (made by the same people, Enfield is set in the same universe but much earlier) and loved it a lot and because I'd seen an image (below) from the first issue of Enfield and loved that.

The writing in Enfield and TTB is in the vernacular, and I guess it made me realise how out of place I sometimes feel. I may've lived in Britain nearly 15 years, but I'm not from here. I never will be. I'll always be an outsider.

I think it all made me kind of homesick and looking at that artwork was/is comforting. I don't even... like, I'm not from West Texas - I've never even been to West Texas 😂 but... I don't know. It's home, nonetheless, I guess.

TTB#14 - and it's always felt strange thinking this, considering what goes in TTB lol but - also made me remember the good sides of Texas. I know Texas is a shithole, and it's wearying. TTB and Enfield, despite everything that goes on in them, helped me remember things I love about Texas. Both Chris Condon and Jacob Phillips deserve to be honorary Texans (and I'm still a little surprised neither of them is Texan lol because it's normally only Texans who talk this way about Texas).

I think going into it not expecting to like it made it hit all the harder when I did. That's my excuse anyway lol Blindsided by Enfield like I was blindsided by comics generally lol

And, like comics generally, I think one of the reasons Enfield has come to mean so much to me is because it kinda finished, or accelerated, what comics generally had started. I think I would have caught on eventually, but Enfield hit me with it in a moment of clarity when I was reading the first issue. Just. I'm holding it in my hands, looking at it, and all of a sudden I know with a certain panicky dread - I need to make comics. I tried to talk my brain out of it, you know, with logic, especially around the rather important not being able to draw bit, but... well, my brain won xd.

I think I would have gotten to that realisation eventually, because comics is definitely the closest to how I envision stories. When I was younger, I used to use film scripts as a guide because that's the only frame of reference I had for what I wanted to do - it wasn't what I wanted to do, but that was comics but I didn't know about comics... 😭

Enfield is also responsible for getting me to be interested in and like art. It started with Jacob Phillips's colours, which I love. Of course, I don't know anything about art, so I don't really know why I love it so much or why I think it works so well, but it made me want to go try to find out, to pay attention to what artists do and the choices they make, to look at as much art as I can, to learn everything I can.

I went to an art museum (or gallery, not actually sure and actually no idea what the difference is lol...) for the first time a few months ago, and that was fantastic. It's all comics' fault (mostly Enfield) xd

Somewhat coupled (but not completely) with the whole "I need to write comics" thing that reading Enfield made realise, Enfield also helped re-ignite my desire to learn how to draw, because there's a few panels in there that I frequently try to draw. I just can't help it even though it goes not very well every time lol

I've always thought "I wish I could draw" but never had much motivation to actually try, because I suck at it xd. Doesn't help that I pretty much stopped drawing when I was <10 years old. But I have to. My brain is giving me no choice. It's literally the hardest thing I've ever tried to learn, and I don't think I've ever sucked so bad at something ROFL, but...

Would this have happened without Enfield? Like realising I need to turn my writing-focus to comics, probably. It's a little hard to escape when being sucked into the whirlpool of comics, but.

So, basically, it feels like Enfield re-forged me similar to how comics generally did. I sometimes (okay, a lot xd) think of comics as a tsunami that unexpectedly ripped me from my peaceful, non-comics beach and half-drowned me whilst dragging me out to sea. Then once I stopped struggling, it deposited me on an island paradise. Where Enfield proceeded to crash into me like a meteor 😂😂😂

Was Enfield just in the right place at the right time? Maybe, though I'm not sure it ultimately matters if that's the case or not. I think my gut is that it's more than that. I read relatively a lot of comics last year, and it's only Enfield that had this impact.

If I could do comics even remotely like Enfield, I would be very happy indeed. (Do I think I'll be able to? Absolutely not, but it's good to have aspirations lol)

The other thing that gets me about Enfield is it's a Western. Now, as far as I know, I don't like Westerns. However, this thought was formed by being forced to watch like every single John Wayne movie known to man - which, fortunately, due to my absolute crap memory, I don't actually remember haha.

Enfield, I think I would call a subversive Western, in that it takes what I think of as the expected tropes (lawmen = good, outlaws = bad, usually mixing in some racism and imperialism for good measure...) and...doesn't do that xd. It's not inverted, exactly, Enfield's not, like, a Good Guy (TM), but the 'good guys' are not Good Guys. And THAT is far more interesting. It's complicated, like real life.

It reminds me of the moment I knew I was going to love the story:

You wouldn't believe the number of scenarios I came up with trying to figure out how the end of the story (Enfield dying, it's not a spoiler, trust me xd) could be not the real end of the story because of this page 😂

Anyway. I've probably rambled on about Enfield (again) enough for one day (for now) xd

So, yeah. I love Enfield a lot, and if you haven't read it, you should read it (and also TTB) it's really good, I promise xd

[loveisonaroll]

Things That Are Worth It

Things That Are Worth It

Jake x reader

Word Count: 5.6K

Warnings: little angsty; fluffy; talks of abortion; pregnancy (both forced and intentional); adoption; struggling teen moms

Summary: You and Jake tell your oldest child the story of their welcoming. 

A/N: I wrote this before the SCOTUS Roe v. Wade reversal. Although this decision was on my radar and we knew it was coming, I like many others still felt a little blindsided. If you need a safe person to confide in, please reach out to me, and if you need help finding abortion resources, please let me know. I can help research and connect you to the right people. 

Also, a quick disclaimer – I may have graduated law school and will (hopefully) be a practicing attorney in a few months, but I do not know how adoption/CPS/child custody cases work. Those are niche practice areas that have different rules in every jurisdiction, and so the “legal” pieces of this fic are purely fictional. 

------

You knew this moment would eventually come, and you had truthfully thought it would have come years before now. However, neither you nor Jake had imagined that she would have read it in a magazine. 

“How could you not tell me?!” your fourteen-year-old daughter exclaimed loudly, throwing her hands in the air. “All this time and you’re not even my real parents. I knew I didn’t look like either of you.”

“Baby, we are your parents. Just because Momma didn’t carry you for nine months doesn’t mean you aren’t ours,” Jake reasoned, grasping your shaking hand in one hand and fisting the magazine in his other.

“I feel like my entire life is a lie!” Vivy stormed out of the dining room, slamming her bedroom door at the top of the staircase. 

You looked over at Jake whose eyes looked almost as watery as your own. “We’ve talked about how we were going to do this so many times, but it’s so much more difficult than I thought.”

“I know, honey. I just wish we had been able to have control of it.” Jake looked away from you towards the rolled-up magazine. He had been voted Guitarist of the Year for the umpteenth time, and the new author jumped at the opportunity to write about your family at the smallest mention of Jake’s inspiration. “I mean, seriously. ‘Jake’s family is a heavy inspiration for his and Greta Van Fleet’s music. His wife, Y/N, and their three children, Genevieve, June, and Wiley, are his biggest muses.’ That’s where they should have stopped, but no. God, I wish I knew who this ‘source’ is.”

You looked down at the rest of the article. 

Jake’s family had quite the unusual start. Rumors started to swirl around Jake and his wife when a very pregnant Y/N was spotted with a very small baby towards the end of 2022. According to a source close to the pair, the couple adopted their oldest in 2022, and by June of 2023, the two had two children under 12 months old. 

You leaned over and pressed your forehead into Jake’s shoulder, letting some tears flow. “This isn’t how I wanted this to go. What are we going to do, Jake?”

Jake’s hand came across his body to stroke your hair. “I’m not sure, baby. I think we should give her a couple minutes to cool off and then we go talk to her.”

“I guess you’re right,” you sighed. 

Tonight was supposed to be a fun evening for you and Jake. The kids were to stay at Josh’s house for a sleepover, and you and Jake had plans to surprise your girls the next afternoon with their own separate bedrooms. At first, it was just easy to have the two babies in one room to avoid jumping from room to room throughout the night. Then, the girls grew to be the best of friends, and it broke your heart to even think about separating them. As soon as the girls became teenagers, however, they seemed to become slightly claustrophobic when it came to each other. You tried to ignore it, because watching your two baby girls grow into their own persons independent of each other was difficult to bear, but Jake was a realist. He convinced you once night while getting ready for bed that this could be a good thing, to have the girls become more independent. Plus, he reasoned, they each deserved to have a space they could call their own. Over the last couple of months, the two of you ordered new queen beds and other bedroom furniture that fit each of their personalities better than the matching accessories they had grown up with. Tonight was supposed to be the night the two of you would share a bottle of wine—and maybe a kiss or two—and put all of your girls’ rooms together in anticipation of surprising them the next day. 

You rubbed at your eyes as you stood from the breakfast nook and opened the dishwasher to put some dishes away. Junie and Wiley were already at Josh’s, but Vivy had had volleyball practice before she could be dropped off. When she rushed to Jake’s car afterwards with the magazine rolled up in her fist and a look of indignation across her face, you knew she wasn’t going to be making it to Josh’s for movie night. Her look of betrayal burned into your brain.

“Y/N, you can leave those for Wiley to put away tomorrow, it’s his day.” Jake pressed his front to your back, wrapping himself around you while you reach up to place a bowl on it assigned shelf. 

You sighed and continued reaching into the dishwasher to put more dishes away. “I need something to do, and they will start to smell like mildew if we leave them in here. Plus, I think it’s safe to say chores won’t be high on the list of priorities tomorrow.”

Jake gently took the mug out of your hands and placed it on the counter while pulling you closer to his chest. He placed a soft kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder blade and intertwined both of your hands. 

“Baby, we’re gonna get through this, you and me and our three,” he chuckled into your neck at his little rhyme. “Do you remember what you told me the morning after the night she came?”

You choked out a watery laugh and closed your eyes at the memory, nodding your head as you rested it backwards on his shoulder. Of course you remembered; ever since you had let the phrase leave your lips he had quoted them back to you and told all your friends and family the story of the snide remark you had made. 

“I think it was something like ‘if you wanted easy you shouldn’t have married me.’”

“That has always been my favorite part to tell, I had never seen you so fiery. It was the first time I had a glimpse of what you are like in the courtroom,” Jake laughed again. “But that’s only the first part. You said ‘of course it’s not going to be easy, but things that are worth it never are.’” 

You thought back fondly of that weekend. It wasn’t even when she became yours, but it was the weekend you and Jake had fallen in love with her. It had been a chaotic and difficult few days, but retrospect is always sweeter.

14 years earlier…

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” you chanted as you struggled to place your files into your work bag while you exited the firm. A last-minute meeting with your firm’s top paying client had kept you an hour past the end of your usual Friday. Although this was not usually a big deal, your in-laws were set to have arrived two hours ago and you knew your house was already swarming with Kiszkas and close friends. You had promised Jake that you would make it home in time, and the meeting and your phone dying in the middle of it had you in a panic. 

“Hey baby, are you leaving the office?” Jake answered your call as you exited the parking lot. 

“Jake, I am so sorry. I know I promised I would be home an hour ago, but we had a last-minute meeting with our biggest client and my phone died halfway through so I couldn’t text you. Is everyone there already?” 

“It’s okay. I checked your location when you hadn’t called and saw you were at the office still, so I figured something important had come up. Mom, Dad and Ronnie got in a little early, but the guys just showed up about thirty minutes ago. No need to rush, just get home safe,” he assured. “We’ve just been visiting and I’m about to fire up the grill. You’ll be just in time.”

“Okay, baby. I’ll be there soon. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

. . . 

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you explain, walking through the sliding glass door onto the patio where your husband’s family and a few of your friends were situated. You planted a sweet kiss on Jake standing by the grill and made your way around the group to greet properly. 

“It’s okay, dear, Jake told us you were called into a meeting. Where attorney duties call, boss babe attorneys answer!” You laughed at Karen’s words as you placed a kiss on her and Kelly’s cheeks. You had always loved the Kiszkas, and Karen had become like a second mother to you. You were sometimes amazed at the amount of pride and support they had left for you after how much they uplifted their hoard of children. 

“Yeah, it was last minute. Hopefully it calmed some storms for the near future, at least. How was y’all’s trip?”

. . . 

You caught up with the group briefly before it was time to eat, and your party moved indoors to the dining room for some more chatting over food. You were finally unwinding from your treacherous day, and Jake’s thumb rubbing patterns on the top of your thigh as his hand rested there helped soothe you even more. 

“Then, we went to this vineyard in France and it’s very interesting how they grow their grapes…” Josh raved on charismatically, speaking with his hands as he recalled the band’s most recent tour in Europe. You smiled as you remembered the warm French breeze wisping through your hair as your mind buzzed slightly from the amount of wine you had “sampled.” You remember watching Jake, his lips and teeth tinged a slight purple, listening intently to your tour guide, and the way his skin shimmered in the golden sunset light against his white linen suit.  You remember falling more in love with him in that instant 

A chime coming from both your and Jake’s phones simultaneously pulled you out of your memory, your Ring doorbell signaling movement had been detected outside your front door. You both looked over at each other with furrowed brows, but when Jake shrugged and resumed listening to Josh’s recount of European life, you let it go, too. Sometimes, a stray dog would throw off the doorbell, and everyone who could show up unannounced was already in your home, so it seemed of little consequence. However, a short moment later, the chime came again. And then again.

“Did you order something?” Jake leaned over to ask you in a soft tone, not wanting to disrupt the flowing conversation between his family and friends.

“I ordered those shoes I showed you at lunch today, but there’s no way they would be here already. And it’s 7:30 on a Friday night—I don’t think there would be any deliveries being made at this time,” you whispered back, brows furrowed once again in confusion. 

Jake pulled his phone out of his pocket and you watched as he clicked on the notification to open the Ring app. You expected to see a stray or two playing around the front of your home, but you did not expect what was transpiring on your front porch. 

At the top of the stairs, was a pile of items seemingly purposed for babies. Boxes of diapers, cans of formula, what looked like a diaper bag, and a few other bags that you could not see the contents of were stacked neatly against the railing of the porch. The most shocking part of the scene, however, was that a young woman was again opening the iron gate at the front of your yard and weaving a car seat through. 

Your heart raced as you shared a wide-eyed look with Jake, and you jumped up from your seat to make it through the house to the front door. Josh’s story cut off, and you could feel the eyes of your company on your back, watching you with Jake hot on your heels make your way to the front of your home.  You knew what was happening, it wasn’t hard to deduce the decision the woman had made, and the advocate in you kicked right in.

You turned towards Jake with your hand on the door handle, jerking your head to the side to tell him to back off. You knew this was going to be a delicate situation, and despite your surprise and the questions you had, you wanted the woman to feel safe to tell you. You opened the door just as the woman had reached the halfway point of the walkway to the porch. She stilled immediately, and you could see the inner conflict she was having shift across her face. Should she run? Should she drop the baby here now that she had been caught? Should she continue on to the porch to leave the child where she had initially planned to? 

You stepped out of the house, closing the door behind you and tried to give the woman the most reassuring smile you could muster. Now that you had a closer look at her, you could tell she was very young, maybe freshly eighteen. She looked at you quizzically and then back down to the sleeping baby she had in the car seat. It was clear she still hadn’t made up her mind of what to do.

“Hi,” you said simply, taking a seat on the porch swing facing the front lawn. You wanted to start gently, hoping to encourage the girl to speak with you. This one little word seemed to jump start her mind. 

“Oh my god. Mrs. Kiszka, right? Y/N? I’m sorry I just—I don’t know what to—I saw you on your website and—” she blabbered on, taking rushed steps to the porch and settling the car seat at the top of the steps. Tears were flowing down her cheeks, and she roughly wiped them away as they came.

“Hey, slow down! It’s okay, just take a deep breath and have a seat if you’d like. I’m assuming you found me through my law firm?” 

The girl nodded her head and wrung her hands together as she looked away from you. “I’m so sorry, I just can’t…your card fell out of someone’s pocket at the hospital, and I looked you up and I followed you here from your office.”

You looked towards the car seat to find what looked like a newborn who couldn’t have been more than a week old. “Okay. While you were at the hospital having baby…?” You looked up at the girl quizzically.

“Genevieve. Her name is Genevieve. Yes, on Monday.” She looked down at the sleeping baby, and more tears started to flow. “I just can’t,” she repeated, her breathing picking up again.

“That’s okay, that’s perfectly okay,” you tried to soothe. “Do you want to sit here with me for a moment? I can get you a bottle of water or something?”

She looked at you warily still, chewing on her bottom lip and pulling at the ends of her hair. 

“You’re not in trouble, and I’m not going to report you for anything. I just want to help,” you offered, hoping she would trust you. 

She sighed and sat on the top step with her back pushed against the pilar facing you slightly. She pulled her knees to her chest and pushed her face into them as she wrapped her arms around herself. You could see this situation was eating her up inside, and you held back tears yourself. As she sat, she also spoke. You learned that her name was Amelia, that she had just turned eighteen the week before, and that she had no one. She had gotten pregnant by some older guy who had only been in town a few weeks before the wind plucked him up again. She hadn’t known his real name, and any source of contact with him had led to dead ends. Abortion hadn’t been obtainable for her, and she had talked herself out of every attempt to speak with someone about adoption. She had gone through so many conflicting thoughts, thinking of keeping the baby and then realizing she couldn’t take care of her. The ultimate decision maker, she said, was when she got the acceptance letter to a university in the next state over with the opportunity to start her life over. She knew that she couldn’t go to school and raise the baby properly at the same time, and that if she stayed here she would just continue the cycle of abuse and desperation that would lead to her baby becoming just like her. When she saw your card, she looked you up and felt like you were the right person to leave her baby with. She had staked out your office since she had been released from the hospital, and today she finally drew up the courage to do what she had set out to do. She knew you would either love and cherish her daughter as your own or find someone who would.

“I will do everything I can to make sure she is safe and in a loving home, thank you for trusting me with her. But can I ask you why you thought I would be a safe bet for her? I can tell you care,” you asked, genuinely curious. 

“I do care, and it scares me that people will think I just abandoned her or threw her out like nothing,” she commented. “I just saw that you are really successful and you seem happy. And then I saw your husband bring you lunch the other day, and it made me think about all the times I wish I had grown up with two parents who loved each other and loved me. I don’t know, it just felt right. I want her to have the life that I never had.”

I nodded along with her. You heard the front door behind you open, and Amelia jumped. Jake emerged from your home with two bottles of water and a plate of cheese, fruit and crackers. He immediately paused as he noticed Amelia’s apprehension, but you just nodded.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, I just wondered if you were hungry or thirsty or anything,” he trailed off softly, taking a small step forward and holding out the water bottle. Amelia gave him a tight-lipped smile and took the bottle of water, opening it to take a small sip. 

“Amelia, this is my husband Jake,” you spoke out, accepting your own bottle of water he extended to you. “And Jake, this is Amelia.”

“Nice to meet you, Amelia. And who have we got here?” Jake questioned as the baby started to fuss. Amelia looked at the baby with wide eyes and then up to you quickly. It was obvious that even though she had spent a good three days with the baby, she was not prepared to be its caretaker. Jake noticed this, too, and you watched as he gestured towards the fussy baby to ask Amelia for permission to pick her up. When she nodded, he placed the plate of food on the porch next to her, gently unbuckled the infant and scooped her up. 

The baby started to actually cry, and Jake’s face showed you he realized he had miscalculated. You chuckled and took the baby from his hands, rocking her gently in your arms. “Amelia, when was the last time she ate? Maybe she’s hungry,” you pondered out loud. 

Amelia retrieved a bottle from one of the bags on the porch and Jake went inside to warm up some water. You spoke some more, letting Amelia eat what Jake had brought out and encouraging her to let you help her figure everything out before she left for school in a month. Eventually, she conceded, and you exchanged phone numbers and addresses before she left, giving one last kiss to the sleeping baby in your arms. 

Jake helped you carry the baby and her things into the house, meeting the bewildered faces of the people closest to you. You smiled warily and shifted the sleeping baby in your arms to give them a better look.

“What is even going on here? I am so confused,” Sam piped up first. 

“Well, I think we have another temporary guest tonight,” Jake airily chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. His parents and siblings flocked to the baby, 

You handed Jake the baby and excused yourself to your bedroom to call your friend Natalie at Child Protective Services. As vaguely as you could, you explained the situation and that you were advocating for the birth mother so that Amelia could get through the process smoothly and make it to school the next month. Natalie was familiar with this kind of situation, but she let you know that there were currently no foster homes equipped to take newborns on a Friday evening. She would have to come retrieve the baby to either take back to the hospital for the interim or to the CPS office until a foster home could be found on Monday. Something just didn’t feel right to you about that, so you suggested keeping the baby over the weekend. After some convincing, paperwork, and copies of drivers licenses of everyone in your home that weekend, Natalie agreed. As you were saying your goodbyes to Natalie, Jake walked into your shared bedroom.

“Y/N, what are you doing? Why did you ask for everyone’s IDs?” He crossed his arms while standing in front of you at the foot of the bed. 

“Well, I uh…so here’s the thing,” you started, giving him a sheepish smile. “They don’t have a foster home available right now and the only other option is for her to go back to the hospital or to be stuck in a CPS office with some random CPS officer until they can look for a home on Monday. It just didn’t sit right with me, Jake, so I said she could stay here with us for the weekend.”

Jake looked at you incredulously for a moment, sighing and running a hand through his locks dramatically. “Baby, you can’t just make that decision without asking me! She’s not just a baby, she’s like 5 days old!”

“But Jake, I promised Amelia I would make sure she was loved and cherished and taken care of! If they took her to the hospital, she would just be another baby among a sea of babies, and if she went to the CPS office, she would get the most minimum care she needs. I’m sorry I didn’t consult you first, but I couldn’t hang up the phone!” you tried to explain. You knew you should have spoken with Jake before suggesting it, and you knew you could have called Natalie back after doing so, but something about the situation felt emergent.

Jake sighed and sat down next to you, placing his elbows on his knees and hanging his head between his shoulders. He put his chin in one hand and tilted his head to look at you. “We have no idea what to do with a baby, Y/N. This is going to be really hard.”

“If you wanted easy, you shouldn’t have married me!” you snapped, eyes wide and slightly glossy. “Of course it’s not going to be easy, but things that are worth it never are.”

His mouth opened and closed as he looked at you, and a smile slowly crept across his features. “You’re right. I guess I wouldn’t have said no, anyways. She’s kind of cute.” You smiled at each other and shared a quick kiss before heading back out into the living room to mingle with your family and your newest house guest. 

The weekend seemed to drag on, you and Jake hardly getting any sleep. You had decided to place the pack-n-play Amelia had left in yours and Jake’s room, as it had been your decision to have her stay and it felt unfair to put your other house guests through her cries. You even felt bad for Jake, since it was your decision to host her, but he waived you off, reminding you consistently that he was your husband and that anything you chose to do you would do it together. So the two of you worked together to calm her nightly cries, change her diaper, cuddle her until she felt safe enough to sleep. Still, there was a lot the two of you did not know, and Karen and Kelly helped teach you and Jake how to take care of Genevieve. Ronnie kept her company long enough for both of you to shower and clean up around the house, and the guys came around throughout the weekend to keep everyone company.

Jake started calling her Vivy Sunday evening after she spit up on Sam’s new sweater. His laughter and “Atta girl, Vivy!” melted your heart, and your perspective started to shift. You and Karen watched from the kitchen as you prepared dinner, and she took note of your smile and slightly watery eyes. She knew you too well. 

“She’s a real cutie, you know. You sure we have to give her back tomorrow?” Karen laughed, bumping your arm with hers. You laughed along with her, but her words stuck in the back of your mind. 

“Babe, watch this!” Jake’s excited voice garnered your interest as he strutted into the kitchen with the baby in his arms. When he got close enough, he placed a couple kisses to the Genevieve’s cheek and in response she opened her eyes slightly and seemed to give a small smile. “She smiled!” He repeated the motion a couple times and smiled again. 

“Oh, sweet girl,” you cooed, gently rubbing your thumb across her forehead. When you looked up at Jake, you saw a look of complete awe as he stared back at the baby. You wondered if he had the same voice in the back of his head.

. . .

Later that night, you and Jake sat in your bed watching a movie with a sleeping baby held close to your chest. It was way past 3 AM, but Genevieve had just fallen asleep after a couple of hours of being fussy, and your mind was still racing. 

“What time is Natalie supposed to come get her?” Jake quietly questioned, turning on his side to face you and place a hand atop the one you held to the baby’s back.

“She didn’t say, she only said she would have to go to the office and make a few phone calls to find a foster home willing to take her first. I texted the partners and let them know the situation, so they can reach me on my cell tomorrow if they need to. Or today, I guess.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, and you looked down fondly at the sleeping baby once more. 

“Do you think—”

“I have an ide—”

You both started at the same time. You chuckled and Jake motioned for you to start first. 

“I just…okay, I know we talked about trying for a baby in like a year,” you trailed off, trying to find the words. “But do you think that maybe now is a good time? I mean, you guys are taking a break to work on the new album for a few months, and when you go back on tour maybe we could just come with you—”

“We?” Jake questioned, and you could swear you saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes when you looked back at him. 

“I mean, I don’t know, Jake. The past couple of days have been some of the hardest days of my life, but they were also so fulfilling. And then you came in the kitchen tonight and she smiled when you kissed her little cheek, and I just…I don’t know if I’m ready to let her go tomorrow.” You sighed and sat up enough to pull the baby from your chest and rest her gently on the bed between your outstretched legs. 

Jake was silent for a minute, and you were honestly afraid to look up at him to search his face for the words he hadn’t yet spoken. Maybe he didn’t feel the same way and this has just been a fun little experiment for him. Maybe he would rather you stick to the original plan of starting your family in a year. But when you finally built enough courage to look up at him, your worries dissipated. Jake had moved up to sit against the headboard, his knees bent as he looked over at you. His eyes were watery with joy and he smiled behind a bit lip.

“Y-yeah, yeah I think she should maybe stay here,” Jake responded with a cough, ever trying to hold on to his tough-guy demeanor. “And I think maybe we should make her ours.”

“Yeah, I think so, too,” you nodded. Jake stood up from the bed and took Genevieve to the pack-n-play to lay her down. You followed along behind him, and the two of you stood watching over her as she slept, hand in hand.

You called Natalie first thing the next morning after confirming once again with Jake that this was something you were sure you both wanted. Your families were delighted, and everyone helped the best they could over the next couple weeks getting your new daughter settled into her rightful place in your home. Amelia was ecstatic when you asked her if she would allow you and Jake to adopt the baby, saying that she had hoped you would say so. The three of you worked through the process together, and soon Amelia was off to college with the biggest weight lifted off of her shoulders. You didn’t hear much from her again, save for the graduation announcements from undergrad and –surprisingly—law school with little notes of appreciation and inspiration to you. You tried keeping in touch with her, but she kindly asked you to allow the both of you to live your lives separately. And you were proud to let her live out her dreams without you.

Two months after welcoming Vivy as your daughter, you found out you were pregnant. Terrified was a severe understatement, but when you showed Jake the test, he belted out the most elated belly laugh you thought you would ever hear from him. You remember him setting Vivy down in her bouncer and smashing your cheeks between his palms to kiss you deeply. He made sure to tell you all night how much he loved you, how much he loved your family already, and how much he was going to love adding a new little one to love. When you worried about handling two babies so close together, he would say he had two arms for a reason. He did so much to assure you that this was an exciting thing, and that he would be happy to have a busload more if you wanted them. When June came, and a 10-month-old Vivy smiled and clapped when she met her little sister for the first time, you felt like your heart would actually burst. Unadulterated happiness is the only way you could describe it.

Present time…

You sniffled as you remembered that weekend. It wasn’t easy, but it really had been worth it. 

“Yeah, it was worth it. Even the terrible twos,” you laughed. You could feel Jake’s smile on your neck.

“It was and still is. Do you remember when she cried the first time I put her in time out? Broke my heart. Her big round eyes and her puckered lip still haunt me to this day.” 

“Oh, my favorite is when she cried at the hospital when she found out Wiley was a boy and not another baby sister for her,” you laughed.

“Oh my gosh! Yeah, when I went out to go get them and tell everyone he was a boy she was not happy. But you should have seen Junie, she kept hugging and patting Vivy on the head and saying ‘its okay sissy, you still got me!’ and Vivy would just cry louder. It was the funniest thing, and I had to try so hard not to laugh at them.”

The two of you laughed some more, and you eventually turned in Jakes arms to lean your head against his chest. “Do you think we’ve given her enough time yet?”

“Yeah, do you want to lead the way or me?” 

The rest of that night was spent telling Vivy the entire story and showing her the graduation announcements Amelia had sent. The three of you cried together, laughed together, and Jake reminded her that families are made up of all kinds of people and that blood relation was not a requirement. He reminded her that Uncle Danny was not his blood brother, but that he would always be in their lives. He reminded her that she may not have the same physical features as you or Jake, but that she had your heart and his amazing style (to which she fell over laughing). He reminded her that sometimes people have babies that aren’t meant to have them, and that the best thing her birth mother did for her was giving her the life she had never had. He reminded her to be grateful to Amelia, and that if she ever wanted to meet her, he would hold one hand and you would hold her other. He reminded her that she was loved, and that she would always be your first baby girl. 

And he reminded you that your little family was worth everything and more.

-----

Thanks for reading!

[27emailsicantsend]

i’m so over the pws attacking the entire show just because their ship isn’t going to be canon 𝑕 i’m a rina til i die but it’s never that deep

I think I see it from both sides anon. I am not a p*w in any way, shape, or form BUT I can see where they are coming from. They might have felt a little blindsided. Like we did in 2B when rina stopped talking. It’s like there is all of this development (mind you, theirs was only a couple episodes worth compared to nearly a season and a half, but I digress), and they probably were thinking their ship was going to have more strong points this season than it did.

However, on our side, it is really easy to see that p*w was a means to an end more than anything. It was a learning lesson for gina and a representation of gina having literally the best she could have and it’s not enough because it’s not ricky. We knew that with the full story in tow, it was always supposed to be rina. So to say that the show is lying, ricky never had feelings, this rina ship came out of nowhere can be really frustrating to Rina’s because it feels like they’re ignoring the premise of the show and the writing leading up to it. And I guess if they want to do that, that’s their prerogative 🤷🏻‍♀️

I think the biggest thing is to recognize that people are going to ship who they’re going to ship. Even if their ship is going down in flames they still will hold out hope (this was absolutely me with Lucaya because if we got a s4 of GMW I genuinely think they would have been end game, but the stories got cut short). And it’s not easy watching your ship suffer, so sometimes that anger gets projected in other ways that don’t feel great to other people watching the show. I would take it with a grain of salt for sure (like you said it’s not that deep) and just enjoy our beautiful story of rina unfold! ❤️

[fireemblems24]

Why I Never Really Talk About Claude

Because there's nothing to say. As much as I hate to say it.

NOTE: I love Claude, and this is in no way meant to say anything bad about him, but Verdant Wind and how it handles him. I didn't tag him, but I want Claude fans to give me their amazing meta analysis and help me indulge in his character. So if you see this - no hate. Please send love.

Gronder Field was obviously a huge turning point for AM and Dimitri - and trust me, I'll definitely get to that - but ironically it was also an eye-opener for VW.

This game is four routes, and at first I tried to give all four their dues, but lately I've talked almost exclusively about CF and AM. With CF on hold until the other routes are also at their final chapter(s), it's become more apparent how little I mention SS and VW.

SS is obvious. It lacks a strong central figure. Rhea is MIA. Edelgard has no presence. Claude and Dimitri weren't supposed to be big characters here, and they aren't. Byleth is too much of a non-character (by design) to pull the weight of a route on his own (my SS is M!Byleth).

But what about VW? What happened?

Initial Impressions of Claude

Claude's writing, before any other character, got my attention. Edelgard I was already biased towards before even opening the game, fueled by her stark difference in design/unit type than other FE leading ladies and knowledge that her route had a split. Hilariously, Dimitri's the one I paid little attention too. But once I actually started the game and heard the characters talk and such, it was Claude who stood out the most.

Claude was witty, promising, and mysterious in a natural way and not the "yeah, sure" way I felt towards Dimitri's "darkness." 😅Edelgard turned out exactly how I expected (and not in a bad way); it was Claude who proved unexpected. It was his prologue dialogue I enjoyed the best, his class introductions that made me laugh.

But sadly that interest burned out.

Edelgard continued to demand my attention throughout part 1. I didn't always agree with her, but I did stay invested in figuring out what her deal was, what she'd do next, etc . . . She surprised me, intrigued me, made me want to discuss her ideas.

Dimitri blindsided me. He tore at my heartstrings without even trying. Ever since the Lonato rebellion, Dimitri got my attention and never let it go. His empathy and stark contrast with his revenge, the truth about his darkness, and so, so much more took him from "there's a third guy" to hands down favorite.

But what did Claude have going for him? Looks? Sure. A fun personality? Definitely. But what about plot, conflict, growth? Throughout part 1, I wanted to know more about what Edelgard planned behind the scenes and her ideals. And during that time, my heart ached for Dimitri as I watched a battle he kept losing and felt so conflicted about his desire for revenge.

What did Claude feel? What did he want? I still kind of don't know. Lack of prejudice between borders? Me too! But what does that have to do at all with what's happening in the game? Nothing. Nothing at all.

Gronder Field

Gronder Field made it just how apparent Claude and VW feels like an awkward third wheel.

During the cut scene, Dimitri and Edelgard had parts that made me (or would've made me) desperate to know what on earth was going on with them. Why is Edelgard invading everyone and, once again, trying to kill her classmates? If she's sad about it, why did she start this war? WTF happened to Dimitri? WTF is going on in the Kingdom? If I wasn't in the middle of it, I'd plan to get to CF and AM asap.

Claude says nothing interesting. Nothing intriguing. It's a throwaway line any character could've said about how this is such a bad class reunion. Honestly, it feels like he got dumped with the lines they needed for advertising because the other two were too caught up in having an actual storyline.

Throughout the game, there's moments that would've made me desperate to play CF and AM, but Claude really hasn't gotten the same treatment.

Claude Deserves Better

The thing is, I like Claude. Writing this reminded me what a fantastic impression he made initially. I love his drive for knowledge, the almost idealistic world he lives to create despite his world-weary character, and how he seemed far more mysterious than the other two (and still is frankly), and didn't get used as a tool to pander to the player self-insert nearly as much either.

But he's been given nothing to work with. Rhea, Edelgard, and Dimitri all have desperate stakes in what happens. Claude doesn't. Or it feels like he doesn't. Even more of the students and faculty have more going on than poor Claude. Things are desperate, emotional, full of conflict, growth, and action. This is what makes someone connect to a story, but Claude feels so disconnected that it's hard to invest.

VW feels less like a cohesive story that could stand on its own and more like a series of battles strung together. Claude has neither Edelgard's strong motivations and active presence nor Dimitri's strong motivations and dynamic development.

It's in the details too. In CF, people are fighting for Edelgard and the Empire. In AM, people are fighting for Dimitri and the Kingdom. In SS, people are fighting for Byleth, Rhea, and the Church of Serios. In VW, people are fighting for . . . Byleth.

I mean, even in FEH Claude doesn't get special treatment. It seems Legendary Edelgard got a giant advertisement video for her release, and Legendary Dimitri got his own mini-foreging bonds with full voice acting. Legendary Claude got nothing. Maybe he's not as popular are the other two (I've stayed out of the fandom outside of my blog for obvious reasons - so I don't really know), but maybe the reason he's less popular (I'm assuming) is because there's a lack of emotional resonance compared to the others.

Honestly, it makes me irritated. Claude has so much potential as a lead character. There's so much to work with, but the game just doesn't play to his strengths, doesn't connect his desires and goals to the plot, ignores Almyra, and has him remain distant from everyone - including the plot. He deserves better.

Claude Fans, I Need Your Help

That said, I know, for fact, I am overlooking parts of his character. Claude fans, please help! Send me your analysis of his characters, what you admire, what his faults are etc . . . (please just no spoilers post Gronder, if you let me know I need to read it later, I'll like it go back to it).

I'm playing all 4 routes at the same time, which means I'm doing monastery weeks back-to-back-to-back-to-back - which means lots and lots of supports all at once. It's impossible for me to retain all that information. There are definitely Claude moments I've overlooked and forgotten.

I also know, for fact, that when you love a character, you can write an entire essay off of one line of dialogue/scene (yes, I've done it 😅). Please send me those essays. I want more Claude love on here, because I'm quickly remembering how much I loved Claude.

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 9

@pocketramblr

.

Banjo took Hikage to the side while the other ghosts were still wading through their existential crisis.

"Man," he said, "Hikage, bro. You know I love you."

"You do?"

"Like... at least eighty-five percent of the time."

"Ah, continue."

"But next time you think one of us has a secret relative out there, you've got to say something so we don't get blindsided."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright, then. I couldn't help but notice that both Ninth's mother and 'Tomura' share a strong resemblance to Nana."

"... I've changed my mind."

.

Although Midoriya Inko had abandoned the tech conference as soon as she heard about the attack on the USJ, she, unlike the mist villain, could not teleport. Therefore, Izuku was stuck in the nurse's office even after he had woken up and paramedics had confirmed that his injuries began and ended at bruises and quirk exhaustion. (And a potentially fractured bone in his foot, but that wasn't worth mentioning.)

Sitting next to the police officer with nothing to do was... awkward. Very awkward. His hands itched for his notebooks, but everything they brought to the USJ was evidence, and he hadn't been allowed to go back to the classroom. He wanted to know what happened to his classmates and Mr. Aizawa, who he hadn't seen since he ran away from the plaza and left him with the hand villain, and Mr. Yagi, who had really taken a beating from Nomu. Danger Sense was quiet, relatively speaking, but Float was just waiting to be used and tested.

Plus, he really, really had to talk to Mr. Yagi about that. Loads of his classmates had seen him use Float. How was he supposed to explain having Float right after telling them he probably had a sensory quirk?

Plus, if he got Float, it stood to reason that he'd get all the other One for All users' quirks as well. So he had to figure out how to make Danger Sense, Float, Smokescreen, Blackwhip, and a strength enhancement all look like the same quirk. Which, maybe they were, technically, considering that Monoma had sensed One for All as a single quirk but whatever was going on with the mist villain as multiple quirks...

Point was, One for All definitely functioned as multiple quirks.

Would his friends think he was lying? No, he'd definitely proven Danger Sense existed by predicting, however loosely, the attack.

"Hey, Tamakawa."

Izuku and the officer looked up at one of the detectives who had come to take initial statements. His name was... Tsukauchi, Izuku thought. Mr. Yagi (as Mr. Yagi) was standing behind him.

"I can take it from here. I have a few more questions for Midoriya."

"Yes, sir. Midoriya." He nodded at them as he left the room.

"How are you feeling, Young Midoriya?" asked Mr. Yagi, taking the officer's spot with a slight groan.

"Uh, better than this morning, actually," he said. "But, um, but what about you? That Nomu guy kept, um..." His eyes trailed towards the detective.

"Ah, this is Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa. He's an old friend of mine. He knows... well, just about everything about me."

Izuku nodded slowly. "So, he knows about, um..."

"I know about One for All," said Tsukauchi.

"Oh," said Izuku. He rapidly gathered together his thoughts, trying to decide what the most important piece of information he had to impart was. "Do you know what happened to Mr. Aizawa? And Ingenium?"

That was most definitely not a piece of information. Stupid brain.

"The portal villain, Kurogiri, teleported Aizawa off UA grounds, but he was able to get help quickly after that. Ingenium had some injuries that need a specialist, so he went home. They'll be alright, but they'll probably have to take a few days off."

"Yes," said Tsukauchi, giving Mr. Yagi one of the driest looks Izuku had ever seen. "Because you heroes are so good about that."

"Teaching isn't exactly strenuous, Naomasa."

"Remind me again how you got injured this time."

Mr. Yagi made a face Izuku would have found hilarious under other circumstances. "That's different," he said, plaintively.

"Is it though?"

Mr. Yagi coughed. "Now, Midoriya, my boy... I'm sure you have things you want to talk about... I think I glimpsed you soaring through the air, earlier. Did you unlock the enhancement aspect of One for All?"

"No," said Izuku. "Not exactly."

.

"Well," said Mr. Yagi. "That's, hm. Certainly something."

"Sorry," said Izuku.

"You have nothing to apologize for, my boy," said Mr. Yagi, patting his knee. "In fact, it's a good thing that you got Float this time. I'd be at a loss about what to do with Smokescreen or Blackwhip. But I'm fairly familiar with my master's quirk, and, well, there's someone else who I should... get back into contact with..." Mr. Yagi force the words out as if they had physically pained him to say.

Which they might have. He did have the whole... coughing... thing. Maybe he was just trying to hold one back?

"Mr. Yagi? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Okay, are you sure?" He wasn't sure if he wanted to bring the next part up if Mr. Yagi wasn't feeling well.

"Yes," said Mr. Yagi. "I just, hm. It's just... history."

Izuku nodded. "So, um. Did you hear Monoma say that the mist guy - Kurogiri? - had multiple quirks, too? Like Nomu?"

The mood plummeted.

"Yes," said Tsukauchi. "He told me, and I told Toshinori. It appears that Kurogiri's warp quirk is actually several different quirks working as one. Merged together, almost."

Izuku nodded. "I was just wondering... One for All can be passed on, so... are there other quirks like that? Like, if the first person with One for All had family members or something? Or..." Izuku trailed off. Mr. Yagi now looked actively ill. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Toshinori," said Tsukauchi, "you mean you didn't tell him already?"

"In my defense, I thought he was extremely dead."

"What- Who are you talking about?"

"My boy... I think it's time to tell you a story of two brothers..."

.

"So, One for All comes with a built in nemesis? Who may be immortal?"

"That- He's not... It would appear so."

"I am somehow both surprised and not."

.

"There's one more thing I wanted to ask you about before your mother arrives," said Mr. Yagi.

"Please tell me it's not something worse, like me being a descendant of the guy," requested Izuku, picking the worst, most ridiculous thing he could think of.

Tsukauchi snorted, then covered the noise up with a cough.

"I seriously doubt that All for One could maintain a romantic relationship of any kind," said Mr. Yagi, "and even if you were, it wouldn't really matter. I mean, his own brother hated his guts."

.

"That's a bit extreme..." murmured Yoichi.

"Considering some of the rants we've gotten you to go on," said En, "it really isn't."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But the rest of it-" Yoichi promptly left to harass Second and Third.

"How can you two be so close and yet so far?" mourned Nana. "How are you so smart and so dumb at the same time?"

"In Ninth's defense," said En, "he doesn't know what All for One looks like."

"Surely he knows what his father looks like. He sees his picture almost every day," said Hikage.

"Admittedly, I could have phrased that better, but are you rubbing that in, or are you serious? I've known you for, like, half a century and I still can't tell."

.

Despite the example being a joke, Izuku felt much better after hearing that.

"But, no, this subject is relatively neutral and nothing so dramatic. I was hoping to get your permission to tell young Aizawa about One for All."

Izuku opened and closed his mouth several times. "H-huh? Why? And why do you want my permission? You don't need my permission."

"One for All is your quirk, now," said Yagi, "and your secret. It's up to you who knows about it. Outside of an emergency, I suppose. As for why in general..." Mr. Yagi sighed. "There are things young Aizawa needs to know about the villains with multiple quirks and All for One. I can't tell you the details right now, but with how One for All is manifesting in you, if he only knows about All for One, it would be very easy for him to make incorrect assumptions."

"Oh," said Izuku. He could certainly see how that could be dangerous. He didn't want his teacher to associate him with a villain like that.

"Also, if he knows what's happening, it will be easier for him to help you," finished Mr. Yagi hopefully.

Izuku thought about it. "I guess that would be alright. But... He's not the only person who'll know about my quirk being weird and All for One, right? I mean, the Hero Commission, at least..."

"To be entirely honest with you, I tell the HPSC as little as possible about All for One and One for All."

"What? Why?" asked Izuku.

"Well-"

"Izuku!"

"Mom!"

"I'll explain later," said All Might quickly.

.

Kurogiri passed a damp washcloth over the burns on his neck. The metal of his collar was a conductor, and the charge the young man with the electricity quirk had sent through it had been significant. It was only natural for it to get hot, for it to burn.

He should go to the Doctor... Some of the collar's functionality seemed to be damaged. He brushed his mist covered fingers over the cool metal.

Tomura wouldn't tell the Doctor. Kurogiri cared deeply for Tomura, but the young man was certainly shallow and unlikely to realize the extent of Kurogiri's injuries. He was more likely to focus on his own, not insignificant, wounds.

In contrast to those, Kurogiri's paled. He wasn't nearly as important as Tomura, after all.

It should be fine to let his wounds and the collar be. It would do what it was supposed to and protect the vulnerable areas of his body, internal damage or no. He just had to be careful of the burns becoming infected, especially since he couldn't see them.

Sometimes, he wished his body was like it was before...

Kurogiri frowned at the thought even as it faded from his consciousness. He had been created by All for One fully formed. His body had always been like this.

Hadn't it?

.

Shouta had been in and out of consciousness the past few hours. Apparently he'd never been in serious danger of dying, except from shock, which was just his body being dramatic and didn't count. All his major organs were free of serious damage. He just had to regain his stamina so that Recovery Girl could heal him up, and then he'd be fine.

Unlike Tensei, apparently, who had cracked one of his engines, which needed specialist help and surgery to realign the pieces. Or All Might, who had taken hits to his old injury, and needed to take time off or lose more time from his hero form. Or his students, who hadn't been seriously injured but who were probably traumatized.

The last time he had woken up, though, Hizashi had been there. Now, All Might, Nezu, and Detective Tsukauchi were there.

"Thought I already gave my statement," said Shouta.

"You did," said Tsukauchi.

"We're here to give you more information about the attack, I'm afraid," said Nezu.

"Information I won't like?"

"It can wait until you feel better, of course."

"That's illogical," said Shouta. "The sooner I get the information, the more time I have to process it."

All Might, Yagi, sighed. "Nomu and the portal-using villain both had multiple quirks."

Shouta frowned. "You mean, they had quirks with multiple aspects?"

"No," said Nezu. "As Yagi said, they had multiple quirks. This was confirmed by both the villains' comments and by Monoma, who made contact with the portal villain and was able to copy multiple quirks."

"Kurogiri," said Shouta. "That's what the other one called him. Shigaraki."

Nezu nodded. "Indeed. We weren't sure you had heard that." He tapped his paws together. "What we are about to tell you is classified. We are only sharing it with you because of your unique position and history."

"In the wrong hands, it could cause a lot of damage," said Yagi.

Only two things kept Shouta from leaping out the window and escaping: the fact that he was basically immobilized in plaster casts and the fact that his students were already involved in whatever this was.

"Great. What is it?"

"To begin," said Tsukauchi, "Monoma said he was able to copy three quirks from Kurogiri."

"That's up from what he could do before," observed Shouta. Stress did push quirks to improve, sometimes, although Shouta hated for the improvement to be associated with trauma.

Tsukauchi nodded. "He made note of that as well. He said he picked up a quirk that allowed him to turn his body parts into portals that led to other body parts, a quirk allowed him to temporarily teleport his body parts, and..." he trailed off.

"And a quirk that at the very least bears a strong resemblance to Shirakumo Oboro's Cloud."

"What are you saying?" asked Shouta, ignoring the way his heart had almost stopped.

"At the moment? Only that it is very strange that Kurogiri had a quirk like that, and sent you to the place where Shirakumo Oboro died."

"Oboro would never-"

"We're not saying that," interrupted Yagi. He coughed into his hand. "There's more context. Have you ever heard of the quirk bogeyman?"

.

"I can't wait to never sleep again I'm my entire life," said Shouta.

"Wait," said Tsukauchi, "it gets worse."

"How could it get worse?"

"Naomasa, you're supposed to be on my side," complained Yagi.

"I am. That's why I'll stop Eraserhead here from trying to kill you after you finish explaining."

"Well, it has to do with young Midoriya's quirk..."

.

"Let me get this straight, you gave the quirk with an immortal supervillain archenemy attached to a child... and didn't tell him that the supervillain existed."

"When you say it like that, it sounds really bad-"

"It is really bad-!"

.

"If I'd known he was still alive-"

"What part of immortal do you not understand?"

"Shouta, I, too, believed that All for One-"

"Shut up, Nezu! I don't have the energy to be mad at both of you right now!"

.

Yagi, Tsukauchi, and Nezu were all shown out by an irate nurse while a different but equally irate nurse replaced the plaster cast on Shouta's arm.

It had definitely been worth it.

.

Just because school was canceled, that didn't mean training was canceled.

... except it did, both because Inko was too stressed to let Izuku out of the house, and because Mr. Yagi had a meeting to go to about the attack.

But the second day after the attack was a different story!

That morning, Mr. Yagi pulled up in front of Izuku's apartment in Hercules (still so cool!) and picked him up.

Izuku bounced enthusiastically into the car and then froze. "Oh my gosh, what happened to your eye? Was it a villain? How hard did they hit you?" his hands fluttered. "I have some cream-"

"Oh," said Mr. Yagi, "no need, young Midoriya! I, er, sort of deserved it. It's a sort of reminder to take it easy, too. People would be disturbed to see All Might with a black eye, after all!" He smiled, then winced.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, very. You should buckle up, my boy."

"Oh, right," said Izuku. "So, where are we going? You said there was someone you wanted to introduce me to."

"Yes," said Mr. Yagi. "My old teacher. It's been a while since I've seen him. Hopefully he won't make up for lost time with a kick to the face..."

"What?"

"Don't worry about it."

When Mr. Yagi spent most of the way over muttering about kicks to the face and head, Izuku decided that he should, in fact, worry about it.

.

The broken-down building was not what Izuku had been expecting.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" asked Izuku.

"Absolutely," said Mr. Yagi, who was shaking somewhat. "This Pavlovian response only confirms it."

"Um." The building looked condemned. "Maybe he moved."

"One can only hope," said Mr. Yagi. "Maybe you sh- No. I have to see this through." He steeled himself visibly, squaring shoulders. "Please not a kick to the face," he said, under his breath.

"Is he really that bad?" asked Izuku.

"My boy, I guarantee you that he's worse."

.

"Poor kid has no idea what's coming," said Banjo. "Although we wouldn't have believed it either if we weren't riding along and watching."

"Nana," said En, "I just want to reiterate that I'm very glad you never thought about giving One for All to Gran Torino."

"Come on. Sorahiko isn't that bad," protested Nana.

"We know," said everyone else, "he's worse."

.

They walked up to the apartment building door. Mr. Yagi sighed heavily on seeing the door was hanging open, which was a radically different reaction than what Izuku would have expected.

"Is Danger Sense doing anything?"

"I don't think so?"

"Let me know if that changes."

"R-right," said Izuku. Mr. Yagi pushed the door in, and Izuku followed cautiously after him.

They went down a few hallways, peeking in rooms. Then they got to the kitchen, and Izuku covered his mouth with both hands with a gasp at the grisly, bloody scene. Gran Torino laid on the floor in a pool of red liquid. "Oh my gosh, he's-"

At the same time, Mr. Yagi said, "At least it's not a kic-"

The supposedly dead hero was suddenly airborne, and flying towards Mr. Yagi, foot first. Specifically, at his face. "You thou-"

Danger Sense spiked. It was a tiny spike, but still.

Izuku reacted. Specifically, with nerves shot by the USJ attack, he reacted violently, lashing out with a fist, swatting Gran Torino out of the air and back into the puddle of what was, in retrospect, probably diluted ketchup.

For a moment, everything was silent.

"Oh my gosh," wailed Izuku. "I assaulted a senior citizen!"

Gran Torino bounced back to his feet. "I like this kid, Toshinori!"

"I'm... glad?"

"Now show me what you've g-"

"Gran, please, we're only here for quirk help, not battle training."

"What's the difference? You're going to want to use it in battle eventually, right?"

"I mean," said Izuku, hesitantly, feeling like he had whiplash several times over, "yes?"

"See?"

"Just help with controlling Float. Please." Mr. Yagi pressed his hands together. "Please do not pick a quirk fight with a civilian teenager. Please."

"We are on private property."

"Assault is still illegal on private property."

"He's the one who hit me!"

"I know! I'm so sorry," said Izuku, doing his best to bow in the cramped space. "It was a reflex."

"After you attacked me!"

"Yeah, but you knew I was going to do that!"

"That doesn't make it better!"

Gran Torino turned to Izuku. "Kid, I don't know how you did it, but it looks like you made this big softy grow a backbone. Next step is to see if you can get him to do this with Mirai, too."

"Um," said Izuku. "I think he already had a backbone? He's All Might, after all."

"Nah, he's just a giant spindly amoeba who needs to take better care of himself."

Mr. Yagi slumped.

"But back on topic," said Gran Torino, eyes much sharper than before. "Do you really have Nana's quirk, kid?"

"Y-yeah. I think so. It was only a little bit, during the attack, but... yeah."

"Let's see what you can do with it, then."

"Um," said Izuku.

"Gran, maybe you should get cleaned up first? Young Midoriya and I can take care of the kitchen..."

"You don't know how to turn it on, do you?"

"Not really, no," said Izuku.

"We've got our work for today cut out for us, then, don't we, you zygotes?"

Wow. Gran Torino really did call people zygotes.

Wild.

[thebadboyfanclub]

Just Like You (Carlisle x Reader)

I haven’t written for Carlisle in such a long time, I am so excited for this concept, also if you wanna get in the vibe I wrote this while listening just the two of us by Grover Washington Jr. Also this is for my girl @little-diable​. Enjoy!

Teaching was something (y/n) wanted to do since she was a little girl, at the time of course she was not aware of the responsibility however she loved the idea of what a teacher was, a kind and clever individual that spend their time trying to educate and help the younger ones. 

Certainly teaching in history in high school was a whole different roster though she never complained, she had this charismatic way of commanding the crowd and luring them in to listen to her and pay attention to what she was hear to do, teach. She loved her work so much she neglected herself and scoffed at her body’s needs, that as anyone can presume did not end well, by not ending well meaning she passed out from dehydration in the middle of the class. 

“Miss (y/l/n), can you hear me?”

She had slowly started to open her eyes when she was met with one of the what anyone would assume was an angel, how else could you justify the porcelain white poreless skin, the blonde hair and those enchanting eyes. 

“What happened?”

“I’m afraid you fainted, dehydration was the cause”

“Dehydration?”

“It’s in our nature to need water miss (y/l/n), you haven’t been really kind to your body”

She felt like such an idiot, she was laying there in front of the most handsome man because she forgot to drink water. Perfect introduction, just what she needed

“Well at least I finally got to meet the infamous history teacher”

“Infamous?”

“Of course, everyone has been talking about the young, beautiful and smart history teacher. My son Emmett told me you are the only teacher that made history interesting”

“Your son is Emmett? What type of Botox do you do?”

As he laughed she felt her heart skip, how could someone’s laugh be so melodic? She never cared for men, from her point of view most of them had no substance and seemed completely incompetent without having anything to add in her life. Still here she was, swooning over a mans laugh

“I had adopted him, also you will be surprised what a healthy lifestyle can do. Let’s start by making sure you drink your water, we can’t risk your gorgeous facial bone structure to be overshadowed by dry skin now can we?”

-

Carlisle had asked her on a date a few days after she had left the hospital, he had used the excuse of coming to school to ask for his adopted kids and walked in her break to purpose dinner.

It was the first time (y/n) felt comfortable with a man, he was everything she wanted in a man, kind, gracious, smart, self made and also left her alone when she needed some quiet me time, she felt like no one was leading the relationship it just flowed. They actually hadn’t even talked about “being official”, they were just together, enjoying each other and being at each other’s life effortlessly.

“Tell me about your family, you rarely speak about them”

The shock of finding out his... nature was gigantic, it almost costed the entire relationship, she was blindsided and baffled by the new concept of a mythical creature being a factual thing and also the man she had feelings for. When she finally got to understand and respect it she got in contact with him, he was more than delighted to hear from her, he didn’t even care she had almost disappeared for so long.

Now she laid next to him, her head on his cold chest as the sheets covered her naked body, their legs intertwined while his one hand went touched her hair, carefully to not cause any discomfort.

“My mother unfortunately passed away while giving birth to me, from what I was told my father changed after that incident, the gain of a child was not enough to make up for the loss of a spouse”

“I bet she was beautiful, just like you”

His chest slightly vibrated as he let out a soft cackle. He adored her soft side that rarely made an appearance and it was only when they were intimate and alone, it was a reminder that he didn’t really know her unless she allowed him to.

“He was a pastor, however I don’t believe the world of the lord is to kill the supposed minorities in His name”

“Another reason why I don’t believe in God”

“He called it getting rid of evil and sin, for most of them he had little to no proof of being witches or werewolves or vampires, it was usually the outcasts that happened to aggravate the wrong people”

She could feel that he wasn’t really fond of those memories, she felt guilty of bring up his past, even though she blamed it at him being an alive Wikipedia. Her favorite time with him was when they would lounge like this, flesh touching flesh and he would talk about all his travels and historical events, this to a history teacher was the equivalent to a kid that went to Disneyland.

She lifted her head and now allowed her chin to rest on his chest, her eyes catching his, a soft and tired smile played on her soft pink lips, he knew she was tired and sleepy, she always was after and yet she would never admit it, she claimed the stories are the icing on the cake.

“Do you think the corsets would look good on me?”

“I think everything looks good on you, let alone a corset. A nice little tuck that would make that lovely cleavage of yours the star of the night.”

It was her turn to giggle at his cheeky commenting on her breasts. He took it as an opportunity to flip over and lay on top of her, a little squeak that was followed by a laugh was heard in the dimly lit room, it was just enough for her to admire that gorgeous face of his. She reached with her palm to touch his cheek, giving him a gentle little caress 

“I think you would love the 20s”

“You mean before during or after the market crash and the Jim crow laws?”

“I meant seen you dance to jazz music in my arms”

“I suppose that could occur as well”

That’s when he leaned in to place a kiss on her lips he so much adored. He had hoped to find his mate for so long, now here she was, standing proudly and showing him what love really means. Acceptance, she accepted his kind and he accepted her independent and introverted nature, no one tried nor needed to change anything to the other, they accepted and respected each other to a sacred level.

“You are an amazing woman”

“So I’ve been told”

[ibuki-says]

Lips of an Angel

Pairing: Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu x Mikan Tsumiki

Rating: PG-13 - swearing and mention of death

Word Count: 1,744

Spoilers: Spoilers for the entirety of Danganronpa: Goodbye Despair

Prompt: Loosely inspired by the song Lips of an Angel by Hinder

Everything still felt so fucked up. It’d only been about a year since Fuyuhiko and his classmates had been freed from the virtual hell that was called the Neo World Program. He involuntarily shuddered as the flashes of all of the dead bodies replayed through his mind once again. Sure, as a yakuza he was no stranger to death, but it wasn’t often those he saw dead were people he knew personally. In addition to learning the horrible truth that it all took place in a simulation and the state of the world, the heinous acts they’d all committed while drunk on despair…it was a hell of a lot to take in. He’d been slowly recovering, everyone in the class has, some better than others. One of the most difficult parts of this whole thing was seeing the classmates who had died…back up, walking and talking as if he hadn’t seen the lifeless eyes himself, or watched them being sent to their execution partly thanks to him. Those he even ended up mourning, back from the dead. He’d found himself plagued by nightmares, something that everyone reassured him as normal for someone in his position. Didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

Fuyuhiko had returned to as normal a life as he could, beginning to rebuild the Kuzuryu clan practically on his own with the help of Peko. He also learned firsthand that…Monokuma had not been lying when it came to the story about what happened to his sister. Progress had been slow, but he supposed that was to be expected when basically the end of the world would come about. The two of them had kept in somewhat contact with the rest of their class, but obviously with everyone dealing with their own issues and coming to terms with what happened, clearly they weren’t itching to organize a class reunion anytime soon. They were slowly rebuilding the world on their own terms, and while it wasn’t any sort of easy job, someone had to do it. However, recently, something happened that he never would have expected. Himself and Peko were discussing the future, particularly that of the Kuzuryu clan when she had asked him on a date right out of the blue. This very much blindsided the blonde yakuza, as he grew up with Peko, never really having considered that kind of relationship with the swordswoman. He loved and cared for her, sure, but was more akin to a sister if he was being honest. However, panicking a little bit and not wanting to embarrass her, he had accepted. Who knew anyway, there was a chance his feelings could change? Though if he was being truly honest with himself, there was another girl he considered himself to carry a bit of a torch for. He hadn’t spoken to her since they all departed the Neo World Program, god, he didn’t even know how to speak to her. He was sure everything they learned was just as, if not even more difficult for her specifically. Maybe he should check in-

“Young master?” A voice distracted Fuyuhiko from his thoughts, causing him to snap his head up in slight surprise. However, he calmed down quickly seeing that it was just Peko peeking her head in through his bedroom door. Fuyuhiko let out a sigh with a light ‘tch.’

“Didn’t I tell you to stop calling me that? Especially if we’re going on a…date. Feels weird.” He muttered, giving her an incredulous look. Peko looked down at her feet with a shrug.

“Sorry…it’s still a force of habit…”

“...I know. Anyway, what is it?” Fuyuhiko saw her face again as she lifted her head back up.

“Right. I was just wondering when we could do that. The date, I mean.” Fuyuhiko paused before shrugging noncommittally.

“Well..I’m…I’m not sure. I’ll have to check my schedule again and see when we don’t have anything going on. I’ll let you know, alright?” He told her. She gave him a nod, an imperceptible look on her face.

“Thank you. …I’ll see you later.” After a blunt exit, Fuyuhiko slumped down in his chair, running a hand over his face. A heavy feeling of conflict settled deep in his stomach. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her, but would it just hurt her more if he just pretended or forced himself? These troubled thoughts continued to plague him as he found himself quietly drifting off.

Fuyuhiko woke with a start, hearing a light buzzing coming from somewhere in the room. He rubbed at his eyes and cracked his back, quietly cursing himself for falling asleep in such an awkward position in his chair. Groggily bringing himself back to reality, he located the source of the sound, his phone sitting on a side table. He reached over and picked it up, stifling a yawn as he clicked accept. Before he could even say anything, he could hear sniffling coming from the other side.

“Fuyuhiko…?” Fuyuhiko instantly sat up when he heard the gentle voice that was on the other side of the line, all sleepiness he may have been feeling immediately leaving him. It was a voice he recognized. A voice he hadn’t heard since the day they parted after the Neo World Program.

“Mikan!?” The name instinctively fell from his mouth, hardly believing it was her. A stifled sob coming from the phone seemingly confirmed it, but he still waited for a response, just to be sure that he wasn’t just hearing things, or simply going delirious from the work and late nights. Just a moment passed before the other line crackled to life again.

“Yes, it’s me. I-I’m sorry for calling so late, I’ve been wanting to call and Hajime gave me your number but I had a nightmare and I just- You were the first person I thought of. I’m sorry, you can hang up, I don’t even know why I called-” Mikan’s voice trembled through the phone, though at the same time speaking incredibly fast so Fuyuhiko was barely even able to make out any of her words, not to mention the signal that was less than stellar. Despite being alone in his room, Fuyuhiko stood up and held his hands out in a calming manner as if she could see him.

“Hey wait! Slow down, Mikan. What’s going on?” A deep breath sounded from the phone before she began speaking again.

“I’m sorry. Uhm…Hajime gave me your number a while ago, He said now that things were getting better we might all meet up soon. I wanted to call before, but kept getting nervous ‘cause I know you probably h-hate me for everything that happened in the simulation, but I’ve been having so many nightmares and it’s been so scary and just needed someone to talk to even if you did hate me…” Mikan trailed off, leaving the line quiet for a moment. This much information took Fuyuhiko by surprise, the blonde yakuza needing at least a few seconds to process all of it. However, not wanting to make the anxious nurse think that he’d hung up, tried to come up with something to say first.

“I mean- I don’t hate you for that. Do you remember who I am? You would have to do a lot worse than a little murder to get on my bad side, you know?” He chuckled half heartedly before continuing. “...I’ve been having nightmares, too. Got told it’s inevitable considering what we went through.”

“You too..? I’m sorry, I just assumed since you were used to it… I keep reliving everything. The despair disease, k-killing I-Ibuki and Hiyoko, that awful trial, and then…” Mikan’s interrupted by her own sobs again, before slowing down and being replaced by a few tearful hiccups. Fuyuhiko was silent. He didn’t know what to say, what could he say? “...Fuyuhiko? Are you still there?” The soft voice on the other line took him out of his thoughts. He shook his head out as if to reset his mind before he answered.

“Yeah, I’m still here. …I’m sorry, Mikan. I can’t even imagine what it’s been like for you since then.”

“...Thank you. I haven’t really talked about it with anyone. Everyone else has been through the same awful things so I’ve been trying to help them deal with it since, yknow, I’m the nurse… It’s my job to help everyone. That’s all that matters.”

“I mean, I guess? But you’ve been through horrible things too, Mikan. You deserve to be supported just as much as everyone else. Maybe even more so from how much you help those lazy bastards.” Fuyuhiko let out a rueful laugh, knowing maybe it wasn’t best to joke right now, but he was never really the best at the whole ‘comforting’ thing. A few beats of silence before it was interrupted by another sob from the other line. “Shit- Sorry, Mikan. That was a fucked up joke to make-”

“No, no! It’s not that. I just- Thank you. No one else has really told me that before… I’m not used to it…”

“Hmmm. Well then, I guess I just have to do it more then? How ‘bout we try to call at least once a week? Maybe someday you can visit me in person, too? That is, if you think you can handle visiting the big bad yakuza den.” Fuyuhiko felt much more relaxed now, though feeling slightly surprised at how easily he invited her to visit him. …Hopefully she wouldn’t think it’d be too forward. A slight gasp on the other side of the line only worried him a bit more.

“Really?? Y-Yes!!! That would be wonderful!! A-As long as you promise you won’t get sick of me…and aren’t just offering out of pity…”

“Nah, I promise. Honor among yakuza, you can trust me.” Fuyuhiko promised, hearing Mikan give out a loud sigh of relief.

“...Okay. I look forward to it then. Thank you for listening, Fuyuhiko.”

“Anytime. Take care of yourself.” The pair exchanged goodbyes and Fuyuhiko could only stare at his phone in slight shock for a moment. Did that really happen? Flipping through his phone and adding Mikan’s name to the number that she called from, he had to confirm that it was real. He wasn’t sure where they were going to go from there. He had no idea what was going to happen next. All he could do was anticipate her next call.

[rosaliestark01]

Moral of the Story

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Requested by @itspetitfantomestuff: There's this amazing song called "Moral of the Story" by Ashe ft. Niall Horan, and in one of Niall's lines he says "Talking with your father he said that you could be mine" which gave me huge PeterXStark!Reader vibes, i was wondering if i can request an angsty story with Peter Parker and Stark!Reader based in that song pretty please?🥺❤️

Warnings: Angst, swearing, unhealthy relationship, the song made me cry 😢

So I never really knew you God, I really tried to Blindsided, addicted Thought we could really do this But really, I was foolish Hindsight, it's obvious

Peter Parker was a shoulder to cry on after your father sacrificed himself to save half the population. Neither of you had been particularly close to one another. You both went to different schools, had other friends, but you did have one thing in common. You were both mourning your dad.

"How are you feeling?" Peter asked as he sat down next to you on the dock at your father's eco-compound. The funeral had just officially ended, and the majority of guests were staying for the "reception."

"Numb," you mutter to him, not wanting to raise your voice in fear that he'd be able to hear how much pain you were really in. "You?"

Instead of answering, he began to tear up. In all the times you've interacted with him, he was always cheerful and happy to help anybody who needed it. For some reason, seeing him like this simply added to your pain.

"None of this should have happened," he finally exclaimed. He let his head fall into his hands, and you resisted the urge to hug him. You didn't have that kind of relationship with him. "If I'd been stronger, I could've-"

"You couldn't. He cared about you too, you know," you cut him off. You instantly looked away from him, not wanting him to see the tears welling up in your eyes from your sorrow and embarrassment that he heard the crack in your voice. "He did this for all of us."

"I know. I just wish I could've done something. It's not fair," He croaked. This time, you let yourself place your hand on his.

"Nothing ever is."

Talking with my lawyer She said, "Where'd you find this guy?" I said, "Young people fall in love With the wrong people sometimes"

You could still remember the way his lips felt against yours as he kissed you for the first time that night. You both needed something to cling to, so you clung to each other in hopes that you both could dull the pain at least a bit. By the end of the summer, you were dating, but it felt more like coping.

You still wonder if it was compassion that led to that kiss or if it was just the fact that nobody understood your grief better than each other. Either way, you couldn't bring yourself to regret it as much as you feel you should. You couldn't get yourself to care that it didn't feel like love.

Some mistakes get made That's alright, that's okay You can think that you're in love When you're really just in pain Some mistakes get made That's alright, that's okay In the end, it's better for me That's the moral of the story, babe

"I'm sorry, it just reminded me of him too much," Peter cried into your shoulder as he recounted what had happened. Apparently, he was going through some old photographs when he came across one of him as a child wearing an Iron Man mask. Your dad had been his hero, his idol.

"I know what you mean," you tell him, resisting the urge to cry yourself. You'd think that after a few months that it'd have gotten better. "It's like, no matter where I go, there's always something that reminds me of him. I don't know how to stop it."

This time, Peter was the one to comfort you. He knew that he'd been conflicted on whether or not this could be called love, or if it was even close, but he felt a need to tell you the one thing that kept playing in his mind at this moment,

"I love you."

"I love you too."

It's funny how a memory Turns into a bad dream And running wild turns volatile It's not funny how it changes Ended up like strangers We burned down our paper house

Peter couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't what love was supposed to feel like. Compared to other happy couples, the way that the two of you "love" each other didn't seem right. You were a shoulder to cry on, but he doesn't remember a single time since the two of you had gotten together that either of you had a memorably happy moment together.

Every single day, he worries that you'll realize this and end things with him. To everybody else, this probably doesn't seem like the kind of thing that is meant to last, yet he hopes to god that it does. He wants things to get better because, at one point, he believed that he really did love you.

Talking with your father He said that you could be mine But some people fall in love With the wrong people sometimes

Mr.Stark was well aware of Peter's growing crush on you. Although he had mixed feelings about you dating a superhero, he felt as though Peter would do right by you if only you weren't so oblivious.

"M-Mr. Stark!" It was funny to Tony how flustered Peter got after being caught staring at you as you work on some new tech with Harley Keener, one of your friends.

"Parker, you do realize that if you talk to her, you might actually have a shot," your dad stated, hoping that Peter wouldn't chicken out like last time. It was funny, but your happiness was more important than his entertainment.

"I wasn't-"

"Please, I've known about your little crush on her since the moment you met," Your dad sighs as he thinks about what to say next. He wanted to help Peter, but he didn't want to be too involved. "Look, I know I'm her father, and I'm supposed to scare boys off instead of encouraging them, but I figured I'd let you know that there's a ninety-three percent chance that she won't turn you down."

"I- You- she- she likes me?" Peter stutters at his idol, hoping that this wasn't some lie to get him to man up. He wanted you to actually like him before he asks you out. What Peter hadn't counted on was his feelings for you changing by the time he actually did.

They say it's better to have loved and lost Then never to have loved at all That could be a load of shit But I just need to tell you all

"I know things haven't been ideal between us, but you do mean a lot to me," Peter stated. The two of you were visiting your dad's old cabin for the weekend in a desperate attempt to grow closer to one another since you both started college.

"You mean a lot to me too," You sigh as you look out towards the lake. You began thinking about how you and Peter had sat in this exact spot as you comforted each other after your dad's funeral. "You've been there for me in ways nobody ever has."

"I thought that- I don't want to lose what we have," Peter didn't know why he thought that this was a good idea. Neither of you seemed happy together, yet you both cling to your failing relationship like your lives depend on it. "If- If you continue to have me, will you- maybe, marry me?"

"Yes." That was the answer that Peter had dreaded, yet he pulled you into a passionate kiss anyway.

Some mistakes get made That's alright, that's okay You can think that you're in love When you're really just engaged Some mistakes get made That's alright, that's okay In the end, it's better for me That's the moral of the story

You saw the way that he looked at her. It left a strange ache in your heart and pain that he'd never looked at you that way. Although another part of you felt relieved, you didn't feel ready to say goodbye. You were just starting to feel as though things were getting better. Like the two of you were getting better.

Michelle Jones wasn't broken like you were. She didn't need time, effort, or comfort. Maybe that was why Peter seemed to like her so much. Perhaps that was why you made up your mind on what you needed to do.

When Peter came home from college for the day, you ended your engagement. You were doing this for him, after all. He deserved to be happy. You'd move into the compound; he could keep the apartment and everything in there.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, not being able to look you in the eyes. He thought that this was what he wanted, but he felt a hollowness in his heart as you said those words.

"I'm sorry too."