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SimpliTools - Change Text Case by SimpliTools Via Flickr: Change Text Case is one of the 160+ tools, available at SimpliTools.

[dreamescapeswriting]

The Dragster League ~ BC

WORD COUNT:4.4K

GENRE: Motorsport AU, established relationships, angst, moody chan taking his anger out on everyone around him, yn being there for him no matter what, cute, fluffy ending, arguments. @preciouslilmonster

PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

They say one second can change your life forever and it was Chan who knew that saying better than anybody lately. One second had completely derailed his life and his career and none of it was even his fault. 

"We the jury find the defendant...." The whole of the room seemed to drown out around him as Chan focused on the jurors, some looked guilty while others smirked at one another and nodded their heads as if they were proud of their answers. 

All year long Chan's life had been put on hold for this moment and it was going to be a life changer either way. The clock on the wall seemed to tick by slower as Chan swallowed the lump in his throat awaiting the verdict that could potentially ruin him. 

Chan lay there in the hospital bed staring down at his wrist in silence, everyone in the room was drowned out as he just stared down at the cast that now covered his right hand and wrist. It was a black colour - fitting since he felt as though a part of him was dying, ever since that damn accident he couldn't shake the feeling that nothing was ever going to be the same again. 

"He'll more than likely never be able to drive again," "We don't see it being a possibility for him to get complete function in that hand again"

He'd been pretending to be asleep while the doctors spoke to his parents about his condition, although it was 26 years old it didn't change the fact that his parents were always going to be there supporting him and be his emergency contact in cases like these.

"We can recommend some physiotherapy but it might not be able to get back to 100%" The doctor explained making Chan's stomach sink to the floor, if his hand wasn't back to 100% he was never going to be able to race properly again. The judges who determined whether or not he could race would disqualify him, and replace him with someone new and someone who wasn't broken.

"I came as quickly as I could-" Your voice broke Chan out of his daze as he stared over in your direction, your outfit was dishevelled and you looked like you were sweating. You'd been running, running for him? Your keys jangled in your hand and he smiled a little, he knew those keys well. They belonged to the car the two of you had built together four summers ago when you first started dating one another and it still ran like a dream.

Mostly because you and Chan would fix anything that went wrong with it, not wanting to lose something the two of you held so close to you. But now that he thought about it, it made him feel sick he was never going to be able to make a car with you again, not with the same strength he did before. His life was over and he knew it.

"What happened?" You whispered rushing over to Chan and looking down at him, his heart picked up a little as you smoothed your hand over his cheek and placed a warm kiss on his forehead. You'd been working when you got a text telling you Chan had a small accident and you put everything down and ran out of the shop without a word to your employees. You must have broken about 16 traffic laws trying to get to the hospital but you didn't care, all you wanted to know was if Chan was alright.

"His car was faulty, he crashed-" The doctor explained calmly as if it was the most normal thing in the world but you cut him off.

"Crashed?! And I just got a text?! How?! H-How did it- How fast was he going?!" You'd been at work when you got a text letting you know your boyfriend had an accident and was in the hospital. You'd expected that he'd fallen over or something not a crash.

"I wasn't going fast, I was doing a test run on the track. I went around the corner and my brakes-" Chan tried to explain but someone cut him off,

"His brakes were fine." A man's voice cut off from the door, you glanced up to see the manager of the race track - Ryan- staring in his direction, Chan physically tensed from beside you. 

You knew he didn't like him and with good reason, not only was he the manager of the race track where most of Chan's races took place he was also the father of one of the racers Chan beat every single race. Ryan was a sleazeball and an unnerving feeling made you think he might have had something to do with it, especially with the way he was trying to gaslight Chan.

"We checked the car, nothing was wrong with it. You must have hit the wrong pedal." Ryan said as if it was the easiest thing in the world for someone to do, but when you'd been driving as long as Chan had it was damn near impossible for that to happen.

"I've been driving for 10 years, I didn't hit the wrong pedal!" He growled out, your hand squeezed his shoulder a little as you stared at Ryan something didn't feel right about any of it.

"My brakes were cut," Chan mumbled and you looked down at him, taking in the tear-stained cheeks and blood-shot eyes he was sporting. It wasn't like Chan to cry over something so you knew he must have been telling the truth about the car brakes, Chan knew when something was wrong with a car and you KNEW he wasn't one to push the wrong pedal. 

"I'll have my men look at the car-" Ryan tried to say but you weren't going to let some creep take the car and ruin any chance of finding out the truth.

"I'll do it," You shot out quickly, not wanting anyone to tamper with the evidence if what Chan was saying was true.

"Excuse me? I'd rather have a fully qualified team look into it, luckily I have those on hand." Ryan snapped out, and Chan's mother let out a low chuckle at the thought of Ryan calling you unqualified to do your job. Something you'd been doing for almost 10 years of your life now, you'd been raised to do this job.

"All due respect, Ryan. I am a fully qualified mechanic, I will look at the car with MY team." You shot him down and the man narrowed his eyes at you,

"You're a woman." You blinked at him, as did Chan's parents who seemed to wonder what significance it had to the subject. Meanwhile, Chan was smirking to himself on the bed, this was going to be the best entertainment he was going to get for a while and he was going to soak up every second of it.

"Yes, and you're a man...I'm so glad we could establish this," You scoffed sarcastically at him, reaching for your phone and already calling your Autoshop,

"But-" The phone rang as Ryan tried to come up with something he could say while you - along with everyone else inside of the room - stared him down,

"Are you trying to tell me women can't be mechanics?" You arched a brow at him and one of your workers on the other end of the phone answered but you stayed silent,

"No...But-"

"Are you trying to avoid me looking into my boyfriend's car because you have something to hide?" The other line of the phone "Ohh'd" and "Ahh'd" listening to you and you did your best to hide the smirk,

"No..."

"Then I suggest you stay out of my way and I will stay out of yours," You turned away from Ryan and began talking to your team on the other end of the phone while Chan watched you with a proud smile on his face.

After a few days of being in the hospital, Chan was finally released and let home, you were doing everything to make it accommodating for him but that didn't mean he was doing the same for you. 

Since the accident Chan had turned into a mean old man, snapping at everyone whenever they'd bring up the accident or even mention his wrist being broken. You'd managed to stay out of his line of fire...until tonight that was.

"Have you managed to look into the car yet? My brakes weren't working," He told you as you bought him some hot chicken noodle soup. He wasn't sick but you still liked to make him this meal whenever he was upset, sometimes it felt like a warm hug to you so you wanted to do everything for him.

"Not yet, Vinny and JJ are going to help me look tomorrow,"

"You should have been looking at it before now!" Chan yelled a little and your whole body went numb. In the last five years, Chan had never once raised his voice at you, not even to yell for you to bring something down from upstairs and it made your stomach churn.

"Chan-" You tried to speak but he cut you off, yelling once again,

"You've done nothing but sit around and play fucking nurse and I'm sick of it! You should be figuring out what was wrong with the damn car!" Sighing to yourself you placed the bowl of soup down onto the bedside cabinet and tried your best to stay calm with him.

You knew he was only taking his frustration out on everyone else but that didn't mean he got to do it to you.

"I've been trying to make sure my boyfriend is okay!" You argued with him, losing your cool a little but not yelling half as loud as he was.

"Try doing your fucking job first," He hissed out bitterly in your direction, staring over at the TV that was at the end of the bed where it had been since he came home playing the same reruns of his races again and again while he laid there. The doctors had been offering him physiotherapy for his wrist once the break was fixed but he was refusing everyone's help. He chooses to feel sorry for himself instead of actively trying to fix the problem or even accepting that he might need a little help with it.

"You're lucky it's only a break Chan, we can get it sorted." As soon as you said it you knew it was the wrong choice of words,

"Lucky?! You think this is fucking lucky?!" He screamed out, losing his temper as he held up the cast that was on his wrist,

"I'll never be able to race again! I'll never be able to build a car again! This isn't fucking lucky!" You flinched at the way he yelled, you knew deep down that Chan would never hurt you but you hated when people screamed. It made you feel like you were 1 inch tall and you felt sick to have your own boyfriend doing this to you.

"You could! If you just accepted that you needed help from someone for once in your goddamn life!" It was wrong to yell at him but his screaming at you had been the straw that broke the camel's back. You'd put up with a lot from him, watching him push everyone around him away or refuse to help himself when the doctors offered him it.

"Get out!" He barked out and you felt your whole body drain itself of its blood, you felt cold at the thought of him kicking you out of your shared home.

"Chan-" You pleaded, you knew you shouldn't have yelled back at him. It was never going to stop him from yelling it would only make him double down,

"Get. Out." He bit out, staring at you as he turned red in the face.

"Please...I-I just want to help you," Your voice cracked as tears welled up in your eyes threatening to spill out,

"Help me but figuring out what's wrong with the car." He grumbled as you stared at him and over at the clock at the wall. It was the middle of the night you had nowhere else to go but the shop.

"Call me when you decide to apologise, Christopher." You mumbled grabbing a coat from the back of the bedroom door and going to the wardrobe to fish some spare clothes out and shove them into an overnight bag.

Part of Chan wanted to beg you to stop packing but it was dulled down by the stubborn part of him that just wanted to push everyone away from him. He didn't want help, he didn't want to feel like a burden to you or to anyone else he wanted to be the one to fix this all on his own.

As much as he loved you and the caring side of you it only made him feel worse for you to sit there and wait on him hand and foot, to be there whenever you thought he needed you. It was the last thing he wanted and he knew he was going to have to do a lot of making up to you to make up for the way he had yelled.

It had been a week of constant calls and texts from Chan asking you to come back home, he'd even had Changbin drive him down to the shop so that he could come and see you but you refused to come out of the office when he was around. You were doing what he told you to do, trying to figure out what went wrong with the car, and you'd been strictly instructed to have no contact with him or anyone else from the race track.

"Anything new?" You glanced up at Chan who was standing in the doorway to your auto shop, you were hanging over the bonnet of the car. In his hand was a bouquet of your favourite flower and your favourite take-out in a bag. Anxiety bubbled inside of your throat as your head shot around to look for anyone suspicious that could be looking this way.

"You can't be here," You whispered moving away from the car and ushering him out of the shop. It wasn't because you wanted him to feel bad anymore if anyone saw him here and reported it everything would be thrown out of court,

"If investigators see you're here they could try and say I was swayed into taking your side, I can't discuss the case with you," The police officer that had been around that morning told you the rules pretty clearly and you weren't going to give them any reason to throw his case out.

"Case? What case?" The look of pure confusion on his face made your stomach drop and you pulled him into the storage shed you kept on site and you blew out a breath.

"You don't know?" You assumed his lawyer would have been in contact with him long before now.

"About what Yn, you're confusing me."

"That slimey little fucking weasly." You hissed out losing your cool more and more with every passing second.

"Ryan took your case to court. I assumed you knew. You need to get a lawyer and you need to get one quick." You told him as you glanced over at the crack in the door to make sure no one was listening in.,

"He what?!" Chan's heart began to pound as he thought about it. Second guessing what happened that day on the track like he'd been doing since it happened, did he hit the wrong pedal? Did he push it hard enough if it was the right pedal? 

Those questions had been swimming around in his brain for days now and it was something he could never answer unless there was footage of the inside of the car.

"He's trying to prove he had nothing to do with the accident, which only makes him look more guilty. I have four days left with the car before I hand it over to the police who then do their own tests."

"Did you find anything?" He looked down at you and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Chan, I can't discuss it with you, they'll throw it out."

"Okay. But there's a camera inside, it usually records everything. Footwork, my face and the speedometer." You frowned a little, you'd been all over that car with a fine-toothed comb about six different times and hadn't found a single camera inside the vehicle.

"I haven't found any cameras in the car..."

"Someone tampered with it before you got it." He whispered, he knew someone had fucked with the car but it was going to be hard to tell who with the cameras being gone.

"There's a little box under the hood. It's like a plane's black box, it records everything. Every pedal pushed, every speed, it tracks everything. Records everything. It won't have footage but it'll tell you if I hit my brakes or if they failed." You'd worked on many cars in your life but motorsport cars were something completely foreign to you which was why you hadn't figured it out yet.

"Chan-" You were going to tell him it was against the rules for him to tell you any of this but he shook his head at you.

"I was never here, you got this information from someone else." He whispered to you as he put the flowers and food down on the table inside of the shed.

"I love you...Okay? They're not letting me go near you until the invitation is through," You whispered as you reached your hand over and gently touched his cheek. The court had put you up inside a nice hotel until the investigation was over, and you'd promised to stay impartial to anything you found inside the car.

"I love you too, I'm sorry I yelled." He whispered before leaning closer and kissing your lips softly, god he'd missed getting to touch you like this.

"I'm sorry about everything." You whispered but Chan stepped back and shook his head at you.

"No. Don't, YOU have nothing to apologise for. It was me, you're right. I need to stop feeling sorry for myself and accept help," You nodded a little and glanced over at Vinny who was coming toward the shed.

"Vinny will take you home, keep your head down in the back of the car until you're in a safe spot." You whispered to him before quickly kissing him and darting over to Vinny explaining the situation.

Throughout the entire trial, the defendant's team had been trying to get your statements and professional opinion thrown out of the case. First, they'd tried to claim your relationship with Chan was going to make you biased but once the prosecution relayed that your findings matched with theirs that was thrown out. Then they'd tried to play the "woman" card because you couldn't possibly be able to do your job since you were only a girl.

"How long have you been working at Vinny's, Miss yln?" Chan looked at you but you'd been instructed not to look at him throughout the whole trial which was hard since you missed him. It had almost been four months with no communication with one another besides small glances during meetings or the occasional letter that Vinny passed along for you which had been meticulously read through by officers to make sure you weren't passing information about the case to each other.

"Could you please repeat the question?" You leaned forward and stared at Ryan's lawyer who appeared to be smirking to himself.

"How long have you been working at Vinny's Autoshop?" Chan bit back a smirk as he hid his mouth in his hand and looked down at the paper in front of him.

"I think the correct question to that would be, how long has Vinny been working for me? Sir," You stared at him as he appeared taken back. You weren't about to sit here and let someone else take credit for your own auto shop, something you'd been working from the ground up since you were nineteen years old.

"I own Vinny's Autoshop. Vinny's sounded better than "Yns" Autoshop." You told them plainly making a few of the jurors laugh at the fact that the defendant team got something very wrong.

"How is it, that a woman of your nature could run an auto repair shop?" Mr Can was starting to rub you the wrong way but you weren't about to let him get to you.

"Objection," Chan's lawyer yelled out, staring at the judge who seemed to be tired of this case, after all, it had been going on for almost two weeks now.

"Mr Cane, relevancy to the case?" The judge questioned, staring at the lawyer who shrugged his shoulders,

"Trying to determine how she could run a place and look too good. I mean, her hair and nails are done up, she doesn't appear as though she could work in such a tense environment dominated by men."

"Proceed." The judge watched as you looked at Mr Cane and smiled sweetly, if you had it your way you'd have ended him harshly days ago when he tried to dismiss you.

"Mr Cane. If you believe a girl can't look good while working in a "tense" environment then how do you explain women who are lawyers?" You countered his statement but he didn't appear taken back by it,

"What do you do? Make them coffee while they do all the work in the shop?" He chuckled making your blood boil. You were told to appear calm on the stand but that didn't mean that you were going to be able to.

"No, but I could tell you how to do a tune-up, oil change, brake relining, engine rebuilds and I could even instruct you how to make a car with scrap parts." You stared at him as he stared at you in silence, blinking a little.

"But is it true you aren't an expert on motorsport cars?" The air turned thick and you stared at him. After Chan's visit to you, you'd done every single bit of research that the world had to offer on the cars.

"Yes, that's true." You glanced over at Chan's lawyer who smirked and nodded at you. You had them right where you wanted them now and you were able to bring out the hidden gem you'd been storing away, 

"But I am fully qualified enough to be able to find the black box that has all of the recorded data on it from the car in question." Instantly the court began to gasp out and murmur to one another as Mr Cane wandered back over to Ryan who appeared to be looking more nervous as time went by.

"Order!" The judge boomed out as he stared around the room, glancing at you and back over to Mr Cane who was shaking his head.

"The court will take a quick recess. Mr Cane, I suggest you figure out another line of questioning." He grumbled before leaving the courtroom. 

"We the jury find the defendant...." The whole of the room seemed to drown out around him as Chan focused on the jurors, some looked guilty while others smirked at one another and nodded their heads as if they were proud of their answers. You looked over at Chan and smiled weakly, you knew he was putting everything he had into this being a guilty verdict and you'd prayed for the best outcome for him. 

"Guilty. Guilty on one account of tampering with the brakes. Guilty on one account of removing the cameras from the vehicle and guilty of inflicting grievous bodily harm because of tampered vehicle." The court screamed out and you ran over to Chan throwing your arms around him,

"You did it, baby!" You screamed, kissing him all over his face and he let out a small chuckle.

"We did it," He whispered before kissing you deeply, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck as you pulled him closer to you. Moulding together perfectly as you made out heavily in the court room and Ryan was taken away in cuffs.

It had been a constant battle inside of Chan when he was in physiotherapy, everything inside of him told him to quit but if he had he wouldn't be here right now and on top of the winning podium accepting a trophy.

"I wanted to do a quick speech, to my friends, my family and just everyone who supported me throughout the whole trial." He spoke into the microphone as you watched him from the sidelines.

"None of this would have been possible if it wasn't for my future wife pushing me," You stared at him, your whole body burning as he called you his future wife when the two of you weren't engaged...yet. 

"If it wasn't for Yn pushing for me to go past what I thought I was capable of I never would have gone through therapy for my hand and I never would have won this race." He breathed out heavily as he opened his arms for you to come onto the stage and you slowly walked over you him and into his waiting arms. Whining a little as you realised just how many people were watching from the race course and at home,

"I love you and without you, I wouldn't be here," He told you - and the rest of the world that was watching live on TV.

"I wanna spend the rest of my life with you and with racing but with a twist." He told you before turning back to the cameras,

"As of today this is my last race and I'm retiring."

"But your hand is back to 100%" You reminded him but he turned and smirked at you, it was true his hand was better than ever but it didn't mean he was going to race forever.

"I want to pass the racing torch to someone else while I focus on my future with Yn. But I'll still be here, we...will be," He smirked before a curtain dropped behind the stage and people began screaming and cheering wildly.

The track - previously known as Delmar Racing - was changed to "The Dragster League" making you giggle a little. The dragster was what you and Chan had named your car.

"Channie," You whined out before he kissed you deeply, erupting cheers around you, all of it fading into the background as you continued to kiss the love of your life.

[cunning-frog]

Black Dogs In English Folklore

[image id in alt text]

Citations at end

What are Black Dogs?

In English folklore Black Dogs are (usually) solitary spectral dogs that often appear during or before storms, sometimes at the same time as a flash of lightning, and at night. They can be differentiated from normal dogs by their looks and behaviour. Usually, they are large with shaggy fur and large, unnaturally red- or yellow-coloured eyes, or sometimes eye, that may glow. There are also cases in which the dog has no head, or even rare still, two. Some are shape-changers with the ability to change their size or even turn into another animal. They often act oddly, walking on their hind legs, or backwards, talking, etc.

Black Dogs are usually either creatures in their own right, a manifestation of the (Christian) Devil or, on occasion, a ghost. Black Dogs are most often seen as malicious and as omens of death. There are even some accounts of them killing people. But, on the other hand, they are also reported to be harmless or even helpful and protective, such as the Black Dogs of Lincolnshire. The sound of chains sometimes accompanies the Black Dog.

The Black Dogs’ Habitat

Black Dogs seem to commonly appear at roads, rivers and other bodies of water, bridges, and fields, they also commonly appear near older sites, such as ruins, standing stones, and burial mounds. Black Dogs are also commonly reported in places associated with death such as graveyards (see Church Grim), lone burial sites, and places of violent death, i.e. sites of execution; there are multiple reports of Black Dogs haunting the places where accused witches were put to death. They seem to patrol these places or haunt them. Sometimes they will haunt a person or group of people, often being an omen of their death or other misfortune.

Black Dogs as an Omen

Black Dogs are often seen as an omen of bad luck, death, and crime. If a Black Dog sits on the front step of a home or howls below a window it means one of the home’s occupants will soon die.

Black Dogs can also be an omen for less dreadful things. If a black dog is seen by a pregnant person, it means their child will be a boy.

Striker

Striker, also known as Trash, is a Black Dog and shape-changer seen in northern England. He most often takes the form of a large Blak Dog with large paws, ears, and eyes and shaggy fur. Striker also sometimes appears as a white cow or horse. Like many other black dogs Striker if often appears to a person as a death omen.

Citations:

Simpson, J., & Roud, S. (2003). A Dictionary of English Folklore. In Oxford University Press eBooks. https://doi.org/10.1093/acref/9780198607663.001.0001

Sherwood, Simon J. 2006. Black Dogs of England. Australian Folklore.

Theo Brown (1958) The Black Dog, Folklore, 69:3, 175-192, DOI: 10.1080/0015587X.1958.9717142

Harland, J. H., & Wilkinson, T. T. (1972). Lancashire folk-lore. http://gutenberg.org/ebooks/41148

Photo source:

Paget, Sidney. “The Coal-Black Hound (Hound of Baskervilles),” WikiMedia Commons, Aug. 1901, commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Houn-53_-_The_coal-black_Hound_(Hound_of_Baskervilles).jpg. Accessed 24 June 2024.

[pippytmi]

Hey there! I absolutely loved your Kacy Post Breakup AU stories. I was wondering if you could write "Cop AU where I've been undercover for years" or the one with the ring. It would make my day, but seriously, no pressure at all!

(this is. 100% an excuse for me to write a kacy + fast & furious au)

///////

The first time Kate gets a breakthrough while undercover, it’s in the form of a cryptic text which only reads: meet me at the bar. 2 PM.

Jane Tennant’s bar is the worst-kept secret of the street racing community, and though Kate has been there dozens of times already, being invited is a game-changer. And being invited by Jane Tennant herself? It might as well be a neon sign—Kate is in. This could be the invitation that can crack the whole case wide open.

But with every push, there’s the demanding pull from the universe which demands equilibrium, because when Kate walks into the bar none other than Lucy Tara is the one behind the counter.

Their eyes inevitably meet. Kate tries to smile; Lucy only stares back, expression carefully blank, and Kate’s smile falls.

“Hey, Whistler.” Ernie—Lucy’s best friend—is the only other patron in the bar, and he makes no attempt to hide his obvious surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Tennant asked me to come,” Kate says, uncomfortably placing her hands in her pockets as she walks over. “Is she here?”

“She’s in the back,” Lucy answers for Ernie. “You can wait for her here.” It’s not a suggestion, so Kate slowly takes a seat. Without asking, Lucy pours her a club soda, and Kate accepts it gingerly.

“Thank you,” she says, but Lucy makes no indication that she’s heard, just turns and continues talking to Ernie about whatever they had been discussing before Kate arrived. Kate only catches a few words here and there, something about slashed tires and mangled gear shifts, before she tunes them out and starts scrolling through her phone instead.

That is, until Ernie says, “Wow, you went on an actual date?” and just like that, Kate’s stomach twists into itself. “Let me see. Hello Skylar…” He starts swiping through Lucy’s phone, which Lucy only makes one halfhearted attempt to steal back. “Points for the can’t wait to see you again text. I like that there’s a heart emoji, too. Carla is always saying something about heart emojis and kind auras.”

Lucy shakes her head. “I call bullshit,” she says. 

“I might be paraphrasing a little. But you get the point.” Ernie lets Lucy snag her phone back, and she’s laughing as she cradles it to her chest, face alit with such joy that Kate’s stomach twists for a whole new reason.

All Kate can do is drink in the sight of that joy, utterly helpless—helpless to the way Lucy’s eyes crinkle at the corners, the softness of her smile, the genuine mirth that makes her whole body shake when she laughs. Suddenly, Kate wishes her drink was something stronger. 

Thankfully, Jane pushes her way into the front from the mysterious back door, and Kate welcomes the chance to redirect her attention. “Thanks for coming on such short notice, Whistler,” Jane says, leaning over the side of the bar next to Lucy. “Can I get you a beer?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine with soda,” Kate declines.

Jane smiles in an unnerving way, like she knows something Kate doesn’t. “I heard about the race yesterday.” She tilts her head towards Ernie and Lucy, effortlessly inviting them to join the conversation. “Ernie wouldn’t stop talking about it, actually.”

“It was glorious,” Ernie says, nodding vigorously towards Kate. “Kai’s still sulking about it, but hey. All’s fair in love and…automobiles…” 

Lucy winces. “Oh, you need to workshop that one.” 

“I know,” Ernie sighs, dejectedly sipping from his little straw in whatever tropical mixed drink he’s been nursing.

Jane pointedly clears her throat and they both shut up. Kate would be in awe of how Jane commands a room like that under any other circumstances, but then Jane is surveying Kate again, one eyebrow quirked but the rest of her face inscrutable. “I’m not trying to poach you from Curtis, but I do want to make you an offer.”

Kate nearly holds her breath. “What kind of offer?”

“Work for me when you’re not working at Curtis’s,” Jane says simply. “I can always use a fast driver on my team. We make deliveries from time to time—special cases. The pay per run is guaranteed to be more than whatever Curtis is paying you.”

“Deliveries for the bar?” Kate asks, and Tennant gives her that secret smile all over again.

“Among other things,” she says. “Are you in?”

For a single, fleeting moment, Kate glances at Lucy. She doesn’t know what she’s looking for—not even sure what reaction she wants. When Lucy gazes impassively back, though, Kate gets a sinking feeling in her stomach which she can’t possibly rationalize. 

“Definitely,” Kate answers at last, trying to feign as much enthusiasm as she can.

Jane doesn't seem to notice the pause. Or at least, she doesn't question it. “You’re family now, Whistler,” she says, sealing the deal with a firm handshake. “Lucy will give you all the details about the next job.”

“Me?” Lucy blurts out, panicked, before she quickly tries again with: “Boss, I’m sure Kai or Jesse could do a much better job.”

“Your shift’s over, isn't it?” Jane asks.

“Yeah…?” Lucy trails off like she isn't sure what the right answer is.

“Then it works out, you're already here,” Jane says. “I’m sure Kate can give you a ride home. You can discuss everything on the way.” There it is again: the unquestionable authority in her voice, the kind that means Lucy doesn’t try to argue.

So that's how Kate and Lucy end up alone—sitting in the flashy red sports car which was previously seized at a crime scene—in complete silence. Kate doesn’t start the car, and Lucy doesn’t ask her to. Through the window, Kate sees Kai and Jesse pull up in a blue pickup truck, but Lucy doesn’t even comment on that.

Kate clears her throat, finally. “If you want one of the guys to take you home, you can go.”

“One of the guys?” Lucy repeats, shakes her head disbelievingly. “Wow. Already jumping right in, aren’t you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.” Lucy won’t face her, just keeps her eyes firmly on the window. “This is your dream, huh? All this time, I never guessed.”

“My dream?” For a brief, sickening moment, Kate thinks her cover is blown.

“Oh, come on, Kate.” Finally Lucy whirls around to glare her down, and she’s so openly furious that Kate does a double-take. “You wanted to be part of this team all along. That’s why you walked into the bar the first time, isn’t it? That’s why you kept following me around like a lost puppy?”

Lucy’s words sting, and Kate swallows thickly—hears the anger, but also hears the quiver of Lucy’s voice and knows what it means. “It’s not what you think.”

“People always say that in the movies and it is, it is exactly what they think!” Lucy exhales sharply. “You used me.”

“That’s not what happened,” Kate says desperately. She has an explanation on the tip of her tongue. Hell, she has the entire confession just waiting to explode. That she has been in deep cover in pursuit of Jane Tennant and her team for almost a year—that she met Lucy by accident, and didn't know she was part of said team—that the reason Kate broke up with Lucy at all was because she knew it was the right thing to do, and not because she wanted to. But it would be worse than just self-sabotaging to tell the truth; it could ruin countless lives. So Kate can't say anything.

“How else would you describe it?” Lucy demands. “You’re the one who kept chatting me up, asking about the bar and the races. So what is it you want? Money? Protection?”

“Lucy—”

“No, tell me! Tell me what was worth stringing me along for? What was worth giving me some dumbass excuse to wait for you while you ‘figured things out’?” Lucy’s voice sounds choked now. “Did you figure it out, Kate? Huh? Did you get what you wanted?”

“I want you!” The first sharp prick of tears aren’t a surprise, but Kate still tries not to let them fall. “But I can't—I— “

Lucy’s expression softens, just a tad, like a thought is occurring to her she hasn't considered. “Are you in trouble?”

The question is unexpected, and Kate discreetly wipes at her eyes. “What?”

“You could've told me,” Lucy continues, “if you were in trouble. You didn't have to—” She doesn't finish her thought, but Kate can fill in the blanks. “I could've helped you.”

Kate knows, logically, that the “help” Lucy is referring to would likely be of the not-so-legal kind. But the fact that Lucy is willing to offer it? It makes Kate’s heart hammer in her chest like a lovesick teenager and she just doesn't understand. How on Earth is she supposed to betray Lucy Tara?

“It's complicated,” Kate says at last, which is true. “I can't talk about it.” Also true.

Lucy sighs. “Well, whatever you’re into,” she says. “It’s not going to get back to Jane, is it?”

Kate sucks in a shaky breath. “It won't,” she lies. 

“Good. Because I can totally kick your ass if I have to.” Lucy drums her fingertips against the car door like she wants to say something else, but doesn’t. “Can we go now?”

“Yes, of course,” Kate says quickly, starting up the engine. “Do you want to just tell me where to go?” Though she still remembers where Lucy lives, she also doesn't want to be presumptuous and start driving there either.

Lucy seems to begrudgingly accept this turn of events, in any case. She goes through the motions of giving directions, but the entire drive over she still does not broach the specifics of the next job like Jane asked her to. 

Kate has the sense not to push. She dutifully parks at Lucy's apartment complex when they arrive and just waits—lets Lucy take the lead on where to go next.

“We're doing a delivery to a warehouse on the south side next Friday,” Lucy finally says. “We go in pairs. I'll pick you up at eight.”

“What kind of delivery?”

“Nothing to worry about,” Lucy says. “Jane won't say it, but this is a test run. No details until she’s sure that you're trustworthy.” She turns to make sure Kate is looking at her, then asks, “Are you?”

Faced with the rawness of Lucy’s voice—of the guarded frown on her mouth—Kate can only nod ever-so-slightly. “You can trust me, Lucy,” she says softly, and wishes more than anything that she could mean it.

She wishes a lot of things, actually. Selfishly, for the chance to reach across the center console and hold Lucy’s hand, press a kiss to her knuckles like she used to, because it would make Lucy smile. (And also make Lucy try to push her luck at every red light back to Kate’s place). But she mostly wishes that she could go back in time and fix everything.

“Then I’ll see you on Friday,” Lucy says. “Are you still crashing in Curtis’s back room?”

“Yeah,” Kate says, thinking wistfully of days where Lucy used to squeeze into the makeshift bed along with her. “Do I have to meet you anywhere, or—”

“I'll pick you up,” Lucy says, but pauses just before she reaches for the door handle. “Is your phone number the same?”

“Since three months ago?”

“Don’t—try to be cute,” Lucy huffs. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

Kate feels the burgeoning twist of a smile try to form, unbidden, and she has to bite it back. “Okay,” she says. “Um, goodnight,” she adds, so as to not say something stupid like I still love you.

“Night,” Lucy mutters, throwing open the door without so much as a glance back.

Kate watches her leave, and only when she is sure Lucy is safely inside does she allow herself to look away, down at her phone where Lucy’s smiling face is still her screensaver. She thinks about it once or twice, but ultimately gives in and calls Curtis. “Hey, it’s me,” she tells his voicemail. “I’m joining Jane’s team for something next Friday. Can you get everyone together tomorrow? I’m going for a drive tonight, don’t wait up for me.”

And she does exactly that: puts her windows down, lets her music blast loud, drives and drives and drives until her fingers are numb against the wheel in an attempt to make her inner turmoil go away.

(It doesn’t).

[short-black-diamond]

The other woman. (part 2)

Previous: part one 

Next: part three, part four- Izuku’s end

Heya, I am doing part two, no idea how it’ll go, but uhm, yeah. 

Warnings: suggestive content-but nothing really happens, cheating, lots of angst for izuku, hate-love, you slowly fall out of love with Deku, Izuku feels guilty and shit, timelaps, suicide thoughts, you feel a little guilty, but not too much, LONG CHAPTER 

summary: As Izuku thinks about how he should tell you and admit how he cheated on you, you are finishing your last preps to completely break him. Now, all he can do is think about where you might’ve headed off to. 

Also: Did I write this all with a resting bitch face?

Yes.

Word count: 4k words

Have fun reading!

...

{...Last time : }

You gently pushed him away from you, his heart breaking at the sight of you avoiding body contact with him. you looked at him with a sad and dissapointed expression and looked away, going to sleep in the guest room. Now that the young man was alone, he thought about your behavior.

You and him didn’t really spend time together, the last time being him and you fucking last night. Before that, you were busy looking for evidences of a new case you could work on alone since you got your promotion.

...

...

He thought about you real hard then. You were always there for him. Always. You always stood up late at night to greet him. You oftentimes came to his office and brought him lunch, which then ended in a hot make-out session or even a quickie in his office.

You often talked about kids, how many you’ve wanted, how you speculated on what they’d look like, what they’d become afterwards. 

You weren’t a person of words, but of action. you kissed him at least a hundred times more than he did, you held him oh so delicately whenever you could. you were always gentle, soft, comforting for him. I mean, you could be rough when he wanted to, but you preferred a soft and calm relationship. 

He...

He didn’t deserve you. 

...

In the guest room, you took a look at your phone. This time, the unknown person wrote a message. 

‘Why are you still hanging onto that cheating bastard?‘

You smirked. You didn’t really know who that person was, and if you’d sent the wrong text, then they could do whatever they wanted with it. So, you played dumb.

‘I think you are mistaking him with somebody else. He would never do something like that! I know my husband better than anyone else!!‘

The person didn’t take long to send something back. A voicemail? Let’s check if it’s a man or a woman...

“Well sweetie...guess I’ll have to show you myself...meet me at musutafu train station. Next saturday. 4 o’clock. Dress up for me, pretty. A’ight?“, the stranger said, having a voice changer and you couldn’t tell the gender. 

Then, the messenger went offline.

You didn’t have time to ask who they were or why they wanted to stop your relationship with Izuku so bad. But, you were quickly pulled out of your thoughts when Izuku knocked on your door. You had to think of something to answer.

SHITSHITSHITSHIT-

“D-darling...?“ He was met with the sound of whimpers and crying. Izuku felt like killing himself. 

...

The next few weeks, you felt like shit, but it was because of your pregnancy. luckily, it was summer, then fall, and then winter, so you could put on more and more sweaters or large shirts to hide your growing stomach. 

You went to the doctors regularly to get some meds, and when they asked you if Deku knew-you shook your head no with a mischievous smile that they only interpreted as a surprise. 

...

Izuku didn’t feel any better. He looked like he hadn’t slept in months, his hair was messier than usual. He had a days-old beard, and if he wouldn’t have cheated on you, you’d latch onto him and fuck him until next week. 

The guilt of cheating on you was plaguing his mind so much that he even forgot to eat. He forgot to take care of himself. When he roamed around the city, he didn’t tell the villains to make a better person out of themselves with a smile on his face like he normally would. 

No. 

He used them as a punching bag and beat them up with a monotone expression. He felt like really committing suicide. 

The idea became more and more interesting as he noticed more and more things in his every day life that he didn’t think of before. Once he even drank a little bleach, but he vomitted out his entire dinner that he had with you. 

The dinner was a complete disaster.

In that dinner, he tried to try it again, tried to talk with you. He noticed that you were covering up more and more. you also looked a little more chubby to him. You didn’t really eat anything, only looked to the side with your arms crossed.

Also, he couldn’t touch you how he liked anymore.

You didn’t let Izuku touch you because he cheated (but he didn’t know that you knew) on you and also because if he would’ve touched your tummy, he would’ve guessed that you were pregnant right away. Who knows? He might even be relieved that you wanted to hide that surprise from him. 

But you didn’t let him come closer to you than arms length. And he was only allowed to hold your arms and hands or your head and face. Not more. 

Izuku thought of that distance as your dissapointment towards him. He knew that you didn’t want to make love with him. But he didn’t know for how long. and honestly? It was snapping every single heart string of his. 

Maybe he’d get a broken heart syndrome and die already. But his prayers went ignored as time went by. 

He felt numb.

Then he went numb. But you didn’t really care. It was his fault, after all. 

... 

The brown haired woman, Uraraka, has tried to contact him more than a few times everyday, but he blocked her. Izuku felt like a traitor-which he was-but he felt much more than that. 

You didn’t deserve such an ungrateful bastard like him. He felt like a whore. He took you for granted. He was fucking another woman behind your back. He was kissing another woman. In another bed. 

When you should be in Uraraka’s place. When you should be the one he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. When you should be the one he’d meet at the end of the day. Not her. 

Uraraka was the other woman. 

But she was a woman who didn’t care if her target was taken or not. She didn’t care that you and Izuku were theoretically inseperable. She tested that theory. 

She found out that the theory was wrong. Or only temporary.

She broke a perfect relationship with a devillish smirk. 

Uraraka is a bitch.

...

You met up with some music and model agencies. You gave the music agency some of your music for when you were younger. Songs about love. Breakup. First date. Arguments. Everything. Nothing. 

They accepted your music. You even gave out your most recent song, but you wanted to sing that one. It was about cheating. About you, Izuku, and the other woman. And you even mentioned your two months old baby in your tummy in it. You’d sing it after your son, daughter or baby would come to the world, not sooner. 

if some other person, no matter if man or woman, would sing it, and Izuku would hear the lyrics, then he’d know that it was your song. You loved mistery, but also being simple and obvious. He knew that. so, you’d sing that song and the whole world would know about your and Izuku’s relationship being over before it could actually really blossom. 

The head of the music agency was thrilled about your plan and loved it. She even organised a concert for you to sing on. Live. And Izuku would be your guest of honour.

In the model agency, you gave the people some of your old modeling photos. Now you’d be a model for pregnant ladies. They also accepted. But, you insisted on cutting of your face in every pic, but only digitally. When you’d give birth to your child, then could they publish your photos. and Izuku would see how much he’s fucked up.

...

The case was finished. It seemed like the burglar was actually a group of middle school kids that had fusing quirks which they used to form into a thief and steal important or expensive stuff. 

After that case, you got another one. You had to find a mysterious person who likes to stalk people. It could be your internet friend who sent you the videos of Izuku and the other woman. 

Today was saturday. Time to meet the stranger. You contacted one of your close friends for safety reasons and made your way to the station. Your stomach got heavy with each week passing by. Now, your stomach was a little bigger than a basketball, but you could cover it up perfectly with one of Izuku’s hoodies. 

Yes, you still used them. Only to let him think that you still wanted this...whatever it was the two of you had. Now, you passed half of the path you had to take when Izuku called you. 

“Hey sweetie, where are you going?“

“Huh?“

“I’m up here.“, he whispered and you looked up. You saw him standing on a low rooftop, gazing down at you with a smile only a real lover could have. Too bad he wasn’t your lover anymore.

But, you noticed his growing beard and hair, his eyes having big, dark circles under his eyes. He also looked like he could eat something. He should eat...

You smiled. “Aren’t you coming down? I don’t feel that safe right now.”, and just after you’ve finished that sentence, he jumped and landed on his feet next to you. He tried to be subtle, but you pretty much aknowledged the pained wince his left eye had when his feet met the ground.

You smiled again. “Thanks.”

You put your mobile away, and took his hand, swinging it around a little. That made Izuku uncomfortable, and you knew that. “N-no problem...where are you going anyways?”, he asked, giving you a curious look. 

No need to lie, right? “Well, there’s this person who began texting me, and I thought they’d be a nice friend, so I’d agreed to meet up with them.”

Izuku looked at you for a few seconds before squeezing your hand. “would you like me to come with you?” 

Don’t you have other bitches to look at?

“Don’t you have patrol?”, you asked instead, biting your tongue internally. He shrugged, looking at you with a sly smirk. “I can always come a little late.”

‘I can always come a little late.‘, my ass! He probably said that to that other bitch he’s fucking!

You looked at him with a resting bitch face before you looked straight ahead. Your phone began ringing as you went. You stopped in your tracks and took your phone out. 

The unknown number. You wrote ‘MY BESTO FRENDO!! <3’ in the contact list so that your poor excuse of a husband wouldn’t suspect a thing. “Oh, ‘my besto friendo?’ Isn’t that from Jujutsu Kai-” “Heyyy~! Where are you?”

Oh. O-okay..

Izuku visibly deflated when you interrupted him by picking up the phone and went ahead and pulled your hand away from him. He felt shitty. 

“huh? over there? Ah, I see you, you can stop waving now, hahaha...yeah, okay, I’ll come now! Bye!“, you said after you ended the call. You then looked at the man whom you’d swore to never leave. But you would. In less than a year. 

“You can go now, Izuku. I can take care of myself.“ “I can still accompany you-“ “There are your fans, I don’t want them to come closer than they already are. Bye Izu.“

And without smiling at him, giving him a kiss, touching his shoulder, or cheek, you turned around and went into a nice caffee. Izuku lookes after you with a look of longing. He missed you. 

With a sigh, he turned towards his eager fans who questioned him about everything that had happened between you two. With each question that involved you - which was every single one the six kids asked him about - he felt more and more like crying, screaming, or throwing himself into a nearby river. 

“I-I’m sorry kids, it was nice talking to you...!“, he croaked out before he took off and dissapeared. 

...

“Huh, so, you’re the one sending me those videos.“, you mustered the handsome but tired looking male in front of you. 

He had nice purple hair, eyebags of tiredness, and a sexy smile. 

“Shinsou Hitoshi.“ “Aren’t you an underground hero?“

He looked at you with surprise evident on his face. “How...?”

“You think I don’t know about people like you? I am a detective in that area. I know everybody here. And now tell me; Why did you send me these videos?“

He furrowed his brows. “Do I really need an explanation? You are living together with your CHEATING husband, isn’t that enough?” 

You smiled coquettishly at him. “No, why do you think that this is going to change anything?”, you scoffed, ”Do you think I want to leave him?”

He hesitantly nodded, which made you giggle sweetly. “Dear Underground hero, I am not planning on divorcing my husband. He may have had come slip ups there and there, but don’t we all do mistakes sometimes?”

“I...shouldn’t you be hurt by his actions? How can you still be so...carefree?“, he murmured, sizing you up. To him, you looked like a completely normal citizen, but he still questioned your relationship with Izuku.

“Say...are you happy in your relationship?“

If you were taken aback, you didn’t show it. You were a mistress when it came to faking your emotions around other people now. You sighed. 

“I wish I was...I am still a little mad at him for spending some nights with another woman, but he promised that he’d never do it again.”, and you had a sad expression on your face, but it was real in this fake relationship.

Shinsou nodded, giving you the illusion of the conversation dying down. But, you were wrong. Deku just had to break your heart more, didn’t he?

“I’m sorry for...putting my nose into your business, but Izuku’s been meeting up with the same woman over and over again until it suddenly stopped.”

You stopped breathing for a second. You don’t have to tell me that, you idiot-

“And I really want to know why-like, don’t get me wrong or something! I am questioning your...husband’s...moves right now.“

“Please, Shinsou. Leave it. Okay? I’ll try and talk to Izuku about it, all right?“, you only answered with a bittersweet smile.

He didn’t look like he’d believe you and you wouldn’t even believe it yourself, but here you were, lying to people who only want the best for you.

“I-just...ugh. Let me tell you, that I will be there for you when you need help, all right? Also, it’d be the best if you’d leave him already.“

You sighed for the last time before standing up, thanking him for the nice time, and walking home, with thinking about how you should approach your nearly final step.

...

“Phew. Onto the next step.“ 

Carefully, you put out some wine glasses with some bottles of beer and other drunk-making potions for your plan for tonight. Since it was sunday, and you had free for today, it was the perfect chance of taking it into action. 

You had prepared some nice dinner, candles and other romantic stuff and with your quirk, making plants, you let plenty of flowers bloom from the walls of your shared house.

“I’m home...“, you heard your “husband’s“ tired voice. He was later than usual and he looked like he’d need a bath-right now. Luckily, you let in a nice warm bath for him with plucked pectorals from some flowers an put them on the nice-with bath bombs and soothing bathing salts filled- bathwater. 

Now, as Izuku was stripping down to his underwear, you prepared the most important part: The divorce. You needed his signature, after all. 

You then put on his oversized hoodie-an all might themed one, of course- and went over to him, ignoring the stomach ache your growing child gave you. “Hey, Izu.”, you smiled softly at him, spoiling him with your tender, fake love.

He looked at you surprised. “O-oh, hey...”

You giggled. Okay, something’s wrong here. Why were you all happy and shit right now? With him? Even though it was nice to hear your happiness, Midoriya felt like something was completely wrong.

“C’mon, I made dinner, and the bath is also not waiting for you.“, you ushered him into the bathroom, which was lit up by the numerous candles and gave him a nice vibe. He stepped into the bathroom and groaned. His muscles relaxed after what felt like forever and he felt like taking a nap. That was what he was really missing. 

Meanwhile, your core still responded to his touch and you cursed your body for still aching after the cheater who was having a good time in the bathtub.

Your hand on his scalp brought him out of his dreamland and he sighed. Still, things were nagging him. “Hey...are we...are we good?”, he asked cautiously, testing the waters with you. 

Your smile faded. “I wish we were, Izuku...it’s actually my fault that I neglected you, you know? You’re so busy, with saving everybody...and helping people when they need help...”, you trailed off, talking about all the times you longed for his touch, his voice, his warmth, him. 

And with each word falling from your lips, he felt like drowning himself into the bathtub. “I just...I wished we could...you know...try again?”, you asked, a hopefull glimmer in your eyes. 

Who was he to deny you. 

Who was he to even think about answering that question. 

Who did he think he was for even looking you in the face after all the time he has spent countless times in other women’s places, blowing their backs over and over again?

“Yes. Let’s do it.“, he instead answered, a determined expression on his face and you smiled seductively at him. “Okay, Izu. But I am hungry, so we’ll eat first, okay?“

...

“Ya wan’ me dodo *hiccup* wha?“, he only asked, his mind far too gone, but he tried to seem like he’d know what you were talking about. 

You held the divorce papers in front of him, smiling devilishly down at him. “It’s so that I can get more money, sweetie...”, you whispered, grinning happily when he signed off without another care. 

“averythin’ for’ya, swee...anythin’“, he called, his red face making him drowsy and soon, he fell asleep. 

He didn’t even see you taking your clothes and leaving. He didn’t see you putting your wedding- and engaged ring into their respective boxes and placing them on the dinner table, where everything was left the way it was after you two ate and drank. You onlay drank water but he mistook it for whitewine and said cheers before drinking full-on. 

He thought about having to become confident before rearranging your gut again, but he never got to do that; with you talking about how you solved the case, your friends having kids, you solving another case and him having to get better at saving people again. 

He never got to touch further up your arm than intertwining your and his fingers and gazing into each other lovingly. He never saw you again after he signed the paper. But what was it again?

It was morning as he threw up all the bile from yesterday, even your delicious food, and the expensive liquors. He felt miserable, and when he called for you, you didn’t answer. 

As he kept calling your name, he noticed that something was wrong, again. All your belongings were gone. Your clothes, lewelry, but only the ones that you personally owned-not the ones he bought for you. Your shoes, also only from your own credit card, were gone, and so was your entire presence. 

Sure, there were still the parfumes and other belongings of yours that Izuku purchased for you, but you? You were nowhere to be seen. Izuku got scared that something might’ve happened to you. 

He searched for his phone and found it on the uncleaned dining table. There were two boxes, dangerously equal to the ones where he had his engage and wedding rings in, and to his horror, the rings were inside the boxes. 

Underneath was an envelope. He opened it and read a letter which you wrote for him. 

“Dear Izuku Midoriya. 

Dear Izu, Zuku, Mido, Midori, sweetheart, love, handsome, sweetie, darling. 

Dear Deku, 

As you might have noticed, I have vanished. Am I going to tell you where? Out of your life! Now, you can fuck as many women as you want. 

But-”

Izuku flinched as if he heard you say those words. Your words, and you found out he cheated on you. How long?

He looked down again, and continued. 

“But, you’ll surely try and stalk me or investigate where I have gotten off to. Well, spare it. You’ll never find me. 

I do have some questions though. 

Why did you cheat on me? 

Was I not enough? Not sexy enough for you? Not pretty enough for you? Not tidy enough for you? 

Too lazy? Too brat-ish? Too much attitude? Not enough confidence? Not enough attention? Not the best looking woman? Not the best cook? Not the best lover?

Tell me. why did you cheat. and why did you stop? Exactly after the night when you fucked me? 

Did a lightbulb go on over your head and you thought, ‘wait, I’ve adtually got a spouse, I don’t need a side chick!’?

Whatever your answer might be, it’s over. 

that...paper you signed yesterday. It was our devorce. and we are leaving. who do I mean by “we”?

Well, me and my son of five months.

I hope that he’ll never see you and become like you, Izuku Midoriya. I’ll raise him as a real man. 

Until never, 

Not your lover anymore.”

You were pregnant? A son? And you didn’t tell him, he also doesn’t know where you are. 

I mean, sure, he broke you, but you broke him back, you guys are even...right?

As tears ran down his eyes and his sobs echoed in the now empty and cold appartment, void of your nice and warm presence, the pro hero unlocked his phone, only to be bombarded with news and questions from all sides. 

Japan news! - Deku’s bride divorced with child, what happened to our sweetest...tip to read more

Kacchan - the fuck did you do?! Your girl left you while pregnant?! Did you cheat on her...tip to read more

Uraraka - Are you okay? should I come come over? We can talk about it if you want...tip to read more

+ Notifications - tip to read more

His phone trembled when he listened to Katsuki screaming his ear off, the news reporting about how you modeled for numerous model companies and released tons of relatable and heart wrenching songs, with an invitation to her freshly divorced ex- Izuku to be a gust at her upcoming concert. 

then, he listened to Uraraka’s voice. calming, soothing, comforting. 

Bullshit. 

He blackmailed Uraraka, blocked her, and then tossed his phone away, thinking about where you might be. 

...

It was cold at this hour, but Izuku didn’t want to fakk asleep after two o’clock. You heaved your luggage down the last stairs of the house you’ve lived in  for the past few years. 

Now, you were ready to leave it all behind. 

Shinsou, your chauffeur, packed all the suitcases into the car and let you sit in the passenger seat. Only then he noticed your noticable bulge. 

“You-you’re pregnant?!”, he yelled, eyeing you with owlish eyes. You winced from his loud voice and shushed him. 

“I fucked him a few months ago and now I’ve got the baby. Now drive me away from this shitty place. Please.“

After some while, you felt Shinsou trying to say something  and you sighed before urging him to tell you what’s been on his mind as he drove you into your new house-but...could you even call it a house? 

It was...so much more than that. (I’ll explain it later.)

“Well, i think that after you two had sex did he stop meeting that other woman. what was her name again? Uraa- Uraka-“

“Uraraka Ochaco. And you’re the person who’s fitting perfectly in my case. Please, Shinsou, for the love of god. Register yourself and tell your underground-hero friends to to the same or my job will only consist of tracking down my own collegues. You guys are taking that whole “underground-hero” thing way too seriously.“

“A-ah..shit, sorry.“

[to be continued...]

...

HOW DID Y’ALL FIND IT?!

was it angsty enough? Because I am still bad at it I think 

please comment on my posts so that I can improve my writing and make better stories in the future...PLEASE!

Taglist:  black-bhabie-2000

[amphibianauthor]

Ao3 Coding References

I recently made a code-heavy choose your own adventure fic, and I wanted to compile all of the really helpful resources I've found along the way. I know little to nothing about HTML but having all of these resources were amazingly helpful.

Basics:

This Ao3 Posting Doc converts Google doc into HTML, adding bold, underline, italics, strikethrough, paragraph breaks, and centered text. Major game changer for heavy HTML works

The Fic Writer's Guide to Formatting by AnisaAnisa: This is a masterpost in itself, covering links, images, boxes, borders, fonts etc. So I'm putting it here since it's amazingly helpful

HTML References by W3 schools- I've linked the HTML colors here, but this is a platform designed to help people learn/reference HTML

This got long: Text resources, fancy formatting & other website formats below the cut

Text resources:

Font's chapter: The Fic Writer's Guide to Formatting: okay I know I already linked it above, but listen it's very good so I'm linking again

Fonts colors and work skins oh my by Charles_Rockafeller takes fonts to a different level.

Multicolored text skin by ElectricAlice GRADIENT TEXT

All the Emoji by CodenameCarrot while Ao3 has signifigantly improved on hosting emojis, this code helps with using some more unconventional emojis. Amazing resource.

Upsidedown text and Zalgo text generators - these specific text generators allow for you to see their direct HTML codes

Workskin for showing and hiding spoilers by ElectricAlice makes text appear when hovered/clicked. Amazing for Trigger Warnings

Make text appear when you click [Work skin] by Khashana clickable end notes buttons for your work, similar to the spoiler button text

Desktop/mobile friendly short tooltips workskin by Simbaline

How to make Linked Footnotes on Ao3 by La_Temperanza

User-selectable Names in a Fanfic work by fiend Ever want people to select between different names in a fanfic? I could also see this used as ability to switch gender in a fanfic.

AO3 Comic Text Effects using CSS by DemigodofAgni Ever want a giant comicbook POW in your fic?

How to override the Archive's Chapter Headers by C Ryan Smith

Fancy Formatting:

Embedding youtube videos on ao3 to scale with the screen by pigalle add youtube videos mid fic

Conlangs and Accessibility by Addleton this fic instructs how to have accessible translations in fic

How to mimic letters, fliers and stationary without using images by La_Temperanza Really helped with box formatting

Decorations for Fic (HTML/CSS): Fanart, Dividers, Embedded Songs and More by Jnsn this has SO MANY cool coding features, including a chessboard that moves when you hover over it

How to make a News Website Article Skin on Ao3 by ElectricAlice

Screenplay skin by astronought

How to make custom Page Dividers by La_Temperanza

How to make Images Fit on Mobile Browsers by La_Temperanza great image adding code

How to Wrap text around images by La_Temperanza image text wrapping

How to insert Gmail emails in your fic by DemigodofAgni

How to mimic Email Windows by La_Temperanza

How to make a Choose Your Own Adventure Fic by La_Temperanza allows for clickable links and hidden text.

Personal Experiment with HTML and CSS by MohnblumenKind This has a variety of help, Chapter 6 & 7 were great for choose your own adventure, Chapter 4 talks about columns and skins, and Chapter 10 even has a newspaper made entirely from site code.

Learn to Microsoft Excel by ssc_lmth insert a spreadsheet in your fic

Ao3 Work skin: a simple scoreboard by revanchist shows how to code a scoreboard

Colossal Cave Adventure by gifbot Working Keyboard anyone?

How to make a rounded playlist by La_Temperanza Ever want to show a character's music playlist within your fic

Tabbing experiment by gifbot (clickable tabs)

Repository by gaudersan google searches, ao3 stats, instagram and text messages galore

Workskin for in Universe Investigative/Mission Report with Redaction by wafflelate case files/CSI reports

CSS in Testing/Bleed Gold by InfinitysWraith Masterclass in cool formatting, including overidding default headers, Doors opening animation, Grid interactive photos, Hovering to change a photo, Retroactive text etc.

CSS in Testing:Second in Series by InfinitysWraith: Interactive keypads, Mock news site and interactive locking mechanism.

Other Websites:

Texting

--How to make iOS Text Messages on Ao3 by CodenameCarrot, La_Temperanza

--A Quick Generator for Embeddable iOS Text Messages by 221b_ee

--imessage Skin by Adzaema

--Retro imessage by Adzaema

--Basic Text Message Work Skin by ProfessorMotz

-- Bubble platform [workskin] by Khashana

Tumblr

--Tumblr style CSS Tweaks by Aposiopesis

--Ao3 Workskin Testing and Tutorials by junietuesday25 tumblr DM

--How to make Tumblr Posts on Ao3 by phyyripo

Twitter

--Repository - Twitter by gadaursan

-- How to mimic Social Media in an Ao3 work by aerynevenstar

--Twitter Work Skin Template by etc e tal

--Twitter Workskin: Tweets and Profile by starskin

--Twitter Mock-Up by TheBrookesNook

Ao3

--How to mimic Authors notes and Kudos/Comment Buttons by La_Temperanza

--How to mimic AO3 Comments by bittermoons

--How to add mobile Ao3 in your fic by DemigodofAgni

--How to make a fanfic style header Ao3 style by ElectricAlice

Facebook/Instagram/Whatsapp

--Whatsapp Group Chat builder by FestiveFerret

--How to make Facebook Messenger Chat on Ao3 by ran_a_dom

--Whatsapp Work Skin Template Revamped by etc e tal

--Whatsapp group chat skin by ovely

--Instagram DMs for Ao3 by monarch_rhapsodies

--How to make Instagram DM mockup by xslytherclawx

Snapchat

--Snapchat skin by Azdaema

--Snapchat Template for Ao3 by starskin

Reddit/Forum

--UPDATED Reddit Skin by diamine

--2020 Reddit Work Skin by timstokerlovebot

--Reddit Work Skin CSS & HTML by knave_of_swords

--How to mimic Social Media in an Ao3 work by aerynevenstar

--template Reddit Skin by spookedcroon

--Ao3 workskin for Forum Thread by fencesit

--How to mimic 4chan posts without just taking screenshots of 4chan

Twitch/Youtube

--Mimicking Twitch Chat for fics by Ultraviollett

--Workskin testing by tohmas [Youtube comments]

Discord/Slack/Zoom

--2023 Discord Theme Workskin by TrojanTeapot

--Discord Work Skin by unpredictableArtist

--Discord (Dark Theme) Workskin by Heterochromia_Mars

--Ao3 Workskin Testing and Tutorials by junietuesday25

--Slack Workskin by Khashana

--Zoom inspired Ao3 skin by mystyrust

Video Game Dialog Mimics

--Dialog [workskin] by Clover_Zero

--Dialogue Workskin (with parallax BG effect) by mystyrust

--My S Ranks--System Windows by unpredictableArtist [computer dialog workskin]

--Tutorial: Ace Attorney Work Skin by QuailFence

--Among Us Ao3 skin by mystyrust

--How to Mimic Undertale Fonts on Ao3 by La_Temperanza

--Tutorial:Rain Code Work Skin by faish

Misc. Sites

--How to mimic Deadpool Thinking boxes by La_Temperanza

--FetLife Skin [Work Skin] by Khashana

--Replika workskin by FaeriMagic

--Disco Elysium workskin by SarunoHadaki

--StarTrek PADD workskin by duskyspirit

--Wikipedia article work skin by styletests

--Yelp Reviews by kiwiana

--Amazon Reviews by kiwiana

--MDZS-themed letters by allollipoppins

--A Newbie's Guide to Podficcing by Adzaema [skin for podfics]

Bonus: Ever wanted to see how crazy HTML can be on AO3? Try playing But can it run Doom? or Tropémon by gifbot

Happy Creating!

Last updated: Aug 19 2024

[eebydeebyderby]

Keep you Safe (REVISED)

In which Reader returns to field calls after a three-month recovery, and Egon struggles with past trauma.

A continuation of this one-shot, but it can be skipped without missing any context.

General info:

Egon x fem!Reader, established romantic relationship, hurt/comfort, the boys are dorks, good vibes

Part 1 of 5

Content warnings: blood mention, a spooky little guy

~5.1k words

(I was unhappy with the previous version of this chapter, but I'll leave it up so that people can see the huge improvements that two great proofreaders (@bookswinalways and @mirandamnit(derogatory) can make between drafts.)

You gasped in delight. That’s it.

You closed the book in your hands and trotted across the room to Egon, who was peering intently into his microscope. “Spengs," you said, a smile spreading  across your face, "I think I’ve identified your ghost.”

He pushed his chair back and looked up at you, openly adoring. “Tell me.” 

“It sounds like a revenant of Buer to me,” you said excitedly, handing him back his field book. 

He furrowed his brow a bit, and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not familiar with that entity.” 

“It’s a lower level demonic entity associated with healing and eternal life." You scuttled over to the bookshelf and pulled out your large, tattered copy of Pseudomonarchia Daemonum, its spine held together by several layers of yellowing clear tape. “I’ve always wanted to get my hands on a Buerian ectoplasmic sample,” you said as you flipped through the withered pages and handed Egon the textbook, “but it’s assumed they went extinct when the Shandorian cultists slaughtered the only remaining nest back in the twenties.”

Egon shrugged, reading over the text. “Perhaps we were wrong in our assumption. The description seems to fit perfectly, and this is entirely unique from cases we’ve previously had.” 

“Egon.” He couldn’t suppress the small smile creeping over his face from the giddiness bubbling in your voice. “If this really is Buerian, and if we could secure a live ectoplasmic sample and construct a viable protein expression vector plasmid, it would be an absolute game changer in our research. Just imagine if we could isolate the enzyme production responsible for Buer’s regenerative properties.”

“This creature is a Class IV quasi-corporeal specter,” he said, reading over your notes written in the margins of the tattered pages. “I'm sorry to say that I don’t think it’s possible to get a fully serviceable sample back to our lab on time for it to be of any use. It would destabilize far too quickly. The site is almost eighty miles out.”

“Well,” you said a bit hesitantly, “I should be able to stabilize it in the field long enough to get it back here in workable condition, but only…but only if I go on the call with you guys.”

Egon’s head shot up from the textbook and he locked eyes with you. You saw the split second of panic on his face before he almost immediately forced it back. It took him a moment to summon his voice. “If you believe that is best.” 

For just a few moments, a tense silence smothered the lab. 

"Yeah. I'm coming to the next call with you guys," you said, trying and failing to sound firm. “I could show you or one of the guys how to stabilize the sample long enough to get it here, but it’d take a few weeks. The entity will disappear after Sagittarius passes tomorrow. We’d have to wait at least another year for it to come back.”

You searched his face as he kept his gaze intently on the textbook, avoiding your eye. “You don’t seem too thrilled about me going.” 

He swallowed. “It’s something I’d have to get used to again,” he said. “That's all.” 

You sighed. "You used to get so excited when I'd go on busts with you…"

His eyes flitted to the thick scars torn along your forearm.

You followed his gaze and yanked your sleeve down to your wrist, your face burning. “I think more than enough time has passed for me to start going on field-calls again, don’t you think?”

He stayed quiet, his gaze still on your arm. After a moment, he cleared his throat and glanced at his watch. “It’s 2:58,” he said, a bit strained. “Our debriefing for tomorrow’s call is in two minutes, so we’d better head upstairs.”

“Please don’t avoid my question.”

He fiddled with his collar and clenched his jaw, avoiding your eye. “Can we discuss this later?”

You sighed again. “Alright.”  

The other boys were already seated around the kitchen table and munching on snacks when the two of you entered. The homemade rat-trap Egon designed sat ominously beneath the table, sizzling quietly. 

Winston popped open a can of seltzer and leaned back in his chair. “Any updates on identifying our mystery ghostie?”

“We’re looking at a revenant of Buer,” you said. “It’s a low-level demonic entity. Pretty mellow.”

“I thought the Shandor freaks killed them all off seventy years ago,” Peter said.

“I did, too,” you said. “But I think this one may be the last of its kind. In all honesty this call can be skipped because the demon is gonna disappear once Sagittarius is over tomorrow.”

“‘But’?” Peter prodded, sensing your excitement. 

A small smile crept across your lips. “But I really, really would love to get an ectoplasm sample off it. So if you decide to keep it booked, I’m gonna tag along on this one.”

Excitement exploded between the three boys, their cheers and delight deafening in the small kitchen. Peter accidentally kicked the rat trap in his excitement and yelped with the jolt of electricity that shot up his foot. Egon remained quiet, his face a bit pale. Winston cracked open another can of seltzer and forced it into Egon’s hand, somewhat concerned that Egon was about to vomit next to him. 

Once the boys tired out their celebrations, Ray asked, “What sort of danger are we looking at?”

“None, really. It won’t attack unless attacked, but it’ll try to scare the crap out of you. It’s really only a two-person job, so a few of you could stay behind if you’d like." Your gaze momentarily flitted to Egon, but he averted his eyes.

“Are you kidding?!” Ray asked eagerly, practically bouncing out of his seat. “Your first bust after three months and a one-night-only one-of-a-kind ghost? We should all go! If Janine was here then we’d make her come, too!” 

“Anything special with this demon?” Peter asked, rubbing his foot, “Or is it just the typical ‘trap it in a salt circle’ routine?”

“We’re just gonna trap it in a salt circle and harvest some goo,” you said. “Nothing special.”

Winston finished his seltzer. “Anything else before meeting adjourned?” 

“Yes, actually,” Egon said, his voice uncharacteristically authoritative, but a bit cracked. He cleared his throat. “I want you all to re-read the first-aid protocols and be especially cognizant of emergency procedures. I myself am taking the time to do so as soon as the meeting’s over.” 

Peter cocked an eyebrow. “You’re giving us homework? Don’t you think that’s being a bit—ow!” he gasped when Winston kicked him under the table. 

“We’ll get it done, doc,” Winston said brightly, getting to his feet. “Good chat, everyone! I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

The meeting ended and all the boys went their separate ways: Winston, Ray, and Peter headed home, and Egon returned to the lab. You decided to stay in the kitchen and make yourself something to eat, both because you were hungry and because you wanted to give Egon a bit of space. 

Egon had all the medical kits out on a lab table when you went back into the lab, a clipboard next to each one.

“Whatcha doing, Spengs?” you asked, placing a full plate on his desk. 

“I’m double-checking the first-aid kits’ inventories to make sure everything is in-place.” 

“Oh, I see. What’s that one you’ve got? I don’t recognize it.”  

He tilted the ampule in his hands so it was a bit so the label was easier for you to read: Norepinephrine intramuscular injection. “This is for only the most dire of situations. It increases blood pressure in the event of severe but controlled blood loss to prevent hypoxia and subsequent organ damage. In layman's terms, it temporarily makes the remaining blood in the body more efficient at moving oxygen.” 

"That’s a pretty intense little item there."

He placed it back into the kit. “There was a time where it was needed and not available. That is a scenario that must never happen again.” 

The remorse of his voice made your heart sink a bit. “Makes sense,” you said, not wanting to make him pursue the topic any further. “Anyways, who’s your connection for all this kind-of-not-legal medical stuff you got a hold of?” 

“My old roommate in my undergraduate dorm.”

You cocked your head a bit. “I thought Ray was your undergrad roommate.”

“Yes, he became my roommate after the first one went to jail.”

“Why?” 

“Crime, presumably.” 

You grabbed one of his coats off the coat rack and pulled it over your shoulders. "It's getting late. I'm gonna head home before it gets dark out."

"Alright, sweetheart." He walked over to you and pulled you in for a kiss on your brow. "I'll see you in a couple of hours."

Egon was still rummaging through the medical kits when Peter came trotting down the stairs. Egon, figuring that he was simply down there to swipe a treat from the sweets’ drawer, said, “Careful with the rat trap, Venkman. I don’t want you getting burned again.”

"Spengler." Egon turned around to see Peter standing in front of him, uncharacteristically serious. “How are you?”

The question threw Egon for a bit of a loop. “I’m doing well, thank you.” 

Peter planted his hands firmly on Egon’s shoulders. “Eegs, bud, I love you,” he said in a surprisingly tender voice. “And I don’t want to sound like an ass, but I’m calling BS. You look like absolute shit. Winston is keeping emesis bags in his pocket because you look like you’re ten seconds away from throwing up. We’re worried about you.”

Egon sighed, suddenly looking very tired. He reached forward and grabbed Peter’s shoulder, returning the gesture in a rare moment of affection. “I think that, once tomorrow is over, we’ll all be better off for it.” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Egon's face was stuck to the pillow in a mess of dried tears when he awakened, exhausted, his heart pounding in his chest. He instinctively reached forward to feel your warmth, but your side of the bed was empty and cold. The bedroom was bathed in the deep, rich blue of the cold early morning, illuminating its interior with a soft glow.   

He stumbled into the restroom and cringed with the sharp ache that settled behind his eyes when he switched the light on, not yet fully shaken from the waves of sleep, his hands tightly gripping either side of the sink. He squeezed his eyes shut to give them a moment to adjust to the harshness of the fluorescent light and soon managed to open them without fuss. The reflection in the mirror was somewhat blurred without his glasses, but he saw the redness and swelling around his eyes, the rawness of his nose and the flush in his cheeks. He blew his nose with some toilet paper, splashed water on his face, but it did little to conceal his congestion or the discoloration on his cheeks. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He stood completely still for a moment, trying to calm the blood pounding in his ears. 

He saw your silhouette sitting on the couch in the dim morning glow when he entered the living room, curled up near the armrest. You were scribbling equations in your notebook, trying to clean up the stats of your most recent experiments as your hot morning cocoa steamed on the nearby coffee table, perilously close to the portable computer. You were in pajamas, bundled up in his old coat that was far too large for you, cozy in the chilly winter morning.

It was really you this time. Warm, loving, safe.

And alive.

“You’re up early,” you said simply, switching your focus to your clunky laptop.

He came up from behind and snaked his arms around you, rested his chin on your shoulder, his flushed cheek pressed against yours. The position would very quickly grow uncomfortable for him, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to be close to you, to feel your presence pressed directly against himself, despite the muscles in his back already searing in protest. 

You reached over your shoulder and ran your fingers through his plushy hair, still typing with your free hand. “Hey, Spengs.” You awkwardly craned your neck and quickly planted a few small kisses on his face, nipping a bit at the bridge of his nose, but it didn’t yield a reaction, as if he didn’t register it. You chalked it up to him still being half-asleep and resumed typing on the laptop. 

"I can’t seem to get this ANOVA to run properly…” you muttered to yourself, staring intently at the laptop screen. “I’ve got the fixed effect models running. I’ve got all the means programmed in. I’ve got the confounds accounted for…” You idly flexed your wrist and stretched your arm up to relieve a bit of tension starting to build up from hours of typing. “The CSV is running. I double-checked all the data sets. Something is wrong…” you grumbled, unaware that your sleeve slipped down to your elbow, fully revealing the long, pale scars torn along your forearm. 

The sight sent a harsh jolt of dread down his spine. He squeezed his eyes shut. 

You were completely engrossed in your work as your fingers flashed over the keyboard, whispering obscenities at the numerous error windows popping up. 

He reflexively tightened his grip around you, almost painfully. He started shaking and his breath hitched in his throat. You stopped typing. He felt the immediate change in your demeanor and he knew he'd been found out. 

“Bad night?”

He didn’t answer.  

You gently shut the laptop, its fans angrily whirring, and propped it up so the vents would cool. “Let’s get back to bed.”

In the bedroom, you slipped into the bed behind him and wrapped your arms around him, throwing your leg over him to pull yourself as close to him as you could, tucking his head under your chin. “Hey, Spengs.” 

He grabbed one of your hands and pressed a kiss to your palm, held it against his cheek, feeling the slightest bit of the tension in his stomach unwind from the warmth of your touch. 

You knew the answers to the questions you were about to ask, but you wanted to hear them said in his own words. “What are you feeling?”

A moment of silence passed. 

His voice was thick and quaking when he was finally able to summon it, breaking the tremulous silence. “Dread.”

“About?”

“Tonight.” He cleared his throat. “It isn’t my decision to make for you, nor should it be,” he said, holding your hand to his chest. “And I really, really want to try and convince you to reconsider, but I shouldn’t, because objectively, your choice is perfectly rational.” He swallowed. “But, I’m terrified, and I want to want you to go, but I don’t. To be perfectly honest, I think yours is the best idea for putting a new foot forward, but I’m absolutely dreading it with every fiber of my being.”

 "Maybe you should sit it out."

He shook his head. “I think I need this call much more than you do.”

You were inclined to agree, but you kept that to yourself. “I think it’ll be good for both of us.” You adjusted your position to one a bit more comfortable. “Try to get some sleep, Spengs.”

He stayed quiet, holding your hand tightly to his chest. He trembled from the tension radiating across his body. 

“I’ll stay here for a while, if you’d like.” 

He took a breath and sighed deeply, and you felt some of his tension relax.

“Thank you.” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Ecto-One was parked just outside the large tunnel of a decayed storm drain covered in layers of  faded graffiti, with sickly pale yellow weeds growing in its numerous cracks. The day was just passing into evening, the sun sat swollen and red on the horizon as everyone readied their gear. The smog caused the glowing skyline to flicker, blurring the boundary between the city and the darkening sky.

All the boys now had their own emergency medical kit strapped to their proton pack, which added an additional five pounds to its heavy bulk. You opted to skip carrying a proton pack, instead carrying a large bag with refrigerated canisters and numerous tools for sample collecting. You stuffed a freshly harvested rabbit from the butcher into one of your oversized jumpsuit pockets, along with a few stones of Aztec turquoise. 

Winston finished strapping on his equipment and looked around. “It’s exactly as we left it,” he said brightly. “Disgusting.” 

“Oh, hey!” Peter trotted to the front of the tunnel and pointed to a large scorch mark. “This is where I blew up that one cult lady!” He put his hands on his hips. “Can’t believe it’s still here three years later,” he mused. 

“Do you mean a ghost?” you asked as you prepped your streptolysin solutions. “Or did you blow up a live person?”

“Oh, I absolutely blew up a person. Oh!” He trotted over to another, much larger scorch mark. “And here’s where Egon nailed two at once!” 

You snickered and glanced at Egon. Ray was muttering to him as the two readied their gear. Egon's hands were violently shaking as he struggled to secure the straps of his proton pack around his chest. Ray gently put his hands over Egon’s and held them steady until each strap was buckled into place. You turned away,  providing them a bit of discretion.

“Why do I have to be the one to lure it out?” Peter whined.

“You volunteered for it,” Winston said. “But I’ll do it instead if you’d like.”

“No,” Peter said. “I want to do it.” 

You held up the PKE meter, and it started glowing. “It’s resting in the tunnel.”

Peter poured out a half-circle of blessed salt with about a ten-foot radius, and stood just behind it, with its open end facing the tunnel. 

“You remember how to lure it out?” she asked. 

Peter nodded, rubbed his hands together, and cupped them over his mouth. “Oh, boy!” he hollered. “I would sure love to make a deal to acquire some supernatural knowledge in exchange for my delicious, tender Kosher-friendly flesh!” 

You cocked an eyebrow at his crass phrasing, but now was not the time to acknowledge it. 

The PKE meter flared in your hand just as the scent of rancid meat flooded the clearing. 

Something began stirring from within the tunnel. Slowly, the demon uncurled from its sleeping position and stood up. Its flesh was partially rotted away and hanging from its skeleton, wet and gangrenous; it stood on gangly lion-like paws, emaciated; its arms dragged on the ground as it moved forward, painful and slow, very hesitant to put weight on one of its legs. The creature was grotesque, deformed and decaying as it slowly limped towards Peter, walked into the center of the circle and halted a few feet from him.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said pleasantly. “You  don’t really look like the picture you placed in the Singles Newspaper ads.” 

“Reddite carnem vestram, desertam a pastore vestro te ducere cognitionis deo,” the creature growled at Peter, its breathing labored and ragged between its words, unaware that you were rapidly pouring salt on the ground and closing the circle. 

"Oh, I'm very flattered. But, I'm married. Dana already has claim to my flesh. You’ll need to take it up with her before we go through with anything." 

You gave him a thumbs-up and he nodded back at you. “She’s trapped in there, right? No way to get out?” 

“She could decorporealize her form and remanifest in her home realm,” Egon piped up, his deep voice somewhat strained. “But, in our world, she’s limited to the perimeter of the salt circle.”

“Good. I wanna see what will happen if I say something Christian-y to her.”

“Don’t say something Christian-y to her!” you, Ray, Egon, and Winston all exclaimed at once. 

Peter stood at the edge of the salt circle and locked eyes with the beast, his mouth twisted into a devious sneer. “Bless you.” 

The creature shrieked in outrage and Peter yelped as he was showered with a harsh downpour of ectoplasm. He stood rigid for a moment with his head ducked, absolutely drenched in thick, hot goo as the creature paced in the salt circle, shaking its head. “You never mentioned that she could slime the hell out of us,” he said, dripping ectoplasm on the ground. “Would’ve been useful info to have. Thanks.”

“I didn’t know Buerian entities could do that!” You couldn’t hide the excitement in your voice. “This is going to be the first documented report of it ever happening.” 

“Guys, I’m gonna tap out on this one,” Peter said flatly. He walked a few paces, every movement accompanied by a wet squelch, and laid down on his back with his arms outstretched. “Goodnight.” 

You started walking towards the salt circle. The creature snarled at your approach and Egon instinctively seized your forearm with an iron grip, but immediately let go when you gasped, “Ow!” 

“I’m sorry,” he stammered quickly, struggling to keep the quiver in his chest from reaching his voice. 

The beast cackled in delight. “Ab hoste maligno defende me, Anima Christi,” it croaked jeeringly, baring several rows of filthy human teeth. 

“We don’t mean you harm,” you said, walking up to the edge of the salt circle and bowing. “Do you speak English?”

The PKE meter in your hand whirred excitedly and rapidly flashed through different color signals, jerking back and forth in your hand like a captured fish and almost jumping out of your grip. 

The creature hissed again and backed itself as far as it could within the confines of the salt circle. "What is that?!"

"Spectrometer. It helps us find spirits." You silenced the PKE meter and stuck it in your back pocket, your head still bowed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m actually very excited to meet you.” 

After warily eying you for a moment, the creature lowered its hackles and bowed its head in return. 

“I brought you some gifts, and I have some questions if it’s okay with you,” you said, stepping into the salt circle. The creature cocked its head as you laid the rabbit and turquoise on the ground. “Who is your master?”

“I serve my Lord and Shepherd Buer, master of knowledge and power,” it growled, lifting the rabbit up by one foot and looking it over. “Commander of The Fifty Legions and the greatest of Kings. Praise be to Him.” 

“Are you the last of his legion in our world?” you asked. 

The creature hungrily sank its teeth into the rabbit’s belly with a sickening squelch and tore out a mouthful of innards, swallowing them without chewing. “Yes. Until my Lord ascends from the depths and lays claim to this world as an expansion of His kingdom.” 

“Thanks for the heads up!” Ray piped up from behind the salt circle. “That is incredibly foreboding.” 

The creature cackled in amusement, its teeth and chin filthy with gore. “It is upon the nature of your shepherd to keep you sheep ignorant of your impending slaughter. My ilk is that of knowledge, which you so scornfully cast away as the original sin for fear of what it may unearth.” 

“How many languages do you know?” Ray asked.

“My good and generous Lord blesses me and my brethren with knowledge of all tongues of Man. Can you truthfully say the same for your Lord your kind so desperately grovels to?” It bit the head off the rabbit with a swift crunch and swallowed it whole. “Can you even guarantee the merit of your beliefs?”

“That’s a pretty loaded question,” Ray said. “We vacuumed up a chumbo out of a Caribbean restaurant last month, and an oni at the Shinto temple four days ago, so I don’t know what the heck is happening on your guys’ side of the realm. You should consider unionizing.” 

“The sun is due soon," you said to the beast as it gnawed on its rabbit, "and you can't stay here. I don't want to leave you trapped here to cook at dawn, and I don't want to lock you away in a box to decay for your last few hours. Sagittarius will be over today. You should go home."

“Did she just tell it to go to hell?” Peter muttered to himself. 

The beast chuckled at Peter's remark, but kept its attention on you. "You are the most cordial of exorcists. Perhaps the fearful grip of your Lord is slipping? Why does He so jealousy forbid knowledge in His domain?” It bowed its head again. “For your generous gift of flesh, I shall take my leave per your request back to the domain of mine Lord Father upon this dying breath of the sigil.” The beast quickly devoured the rest of the rabbit and crossed its arms over its chest. 

“Nearer mine God to thee, oh great Lord of Buer. May it serve thee well.”

A pop, a flash of black flames, and the creature was gone, leaving behind a scorched mark in the dirt. 

You pulled the PKE meter out of your back pocket and switched it back on, but it remained silent. “It's gone.” 

"Woo!" Ray hollered, pumping his fist in the air. "A bust can't go any more perfectly than that!"

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard as much blasphemy as I did tonight,” Winston mused. “But she was very polite.”

You bent over and pocketed the turquoise, now colored black. “Oh, yeah. Higher intelligence demons are pretty affable. It’s easier to sway people by being friendly.” 

“Yeah, I found her to be incredibly friendly, YN," Peter said bitingly. "Just like you said."

You walked over to Peter, who was still lying flat on his back with his arms outstretched, absolutely filthy with ectoplasm, and crouched down next to him. “How are you doing, Pete?” 

"She slimed me…" he said flatly.

“That’s great!” Winston and Ray said in unison.

"Stay still," you said, pulling out a field sample kit from your bag. 

"You and Janine are the experts," he said as you swiped a swab across his forehead. "How can I get this stuff out of my hair in time for our dinner tomorrow?"

"Let it soak in unrefined coconut oil for about two hours, then wash it out twice with lukewarm water and a shampoo with sodium laureth sulfate as its main surfactant. Don't use hot water because the slime will cook in your hair like scrambled eggs and be a nightmare to wash out."

Peter sat up. "Do you swear by this method?"

"Yeah." You snapped off the swab inside the collection tube and screwed on its lid. "It works pretty w—”

Plap. 

“Ah!" you yelped when Peter slapped a handful of ectoplasm on top of your head. "My hair!" you whined. You ran your hand through your hair and pulled away a handful of hot, stringy slime, absolutely disgusted. "Peter!" 

"You're a Ghostbuster again, girlie. Get used to—AAAAH!" he yowled when you tackled him over with a vicious snarl, spattering slime all over the place as you wrestled him to the ground. 

“Alrighty, kids. Break it up before I have to call your parents.” Winston tapped your heel with his boot and you released Peter. 

“Second time this month I’ve had to rescue you from your own sister, Venkman,” Winston said as you got to your feet, completely covered in a thick, mucousy layer of slime from head to toe and smiling like a goon. 

You turned to Egon, who no longer looked like he was seconds away from becoming violently ill, and handed him back the PKE meter, now absolutely drenched in filth. He was still trembling a bit from residual nervousness, but the familiar gleam that had been missing for the past few  months had partly returned to his tired eyes. "I'm proud of you. You did well." 

You grinned at him with absolute delight, globs of fluorescent ectoplasm dripping off her head like raw egg whites. “I got my Buerian ectoplasmic sample.” 

“Yes, I see. You’ve got about a gallon of it dripping off your head.”

“I think you need a hug, Spengs.” 

"That won't be necessary. I feel much more reassured and my stress will greatly decrease in the coming hours once the cortisol in my blood is metabolized an—Oh…" Egon muttered in defeat as you pulled him into a tight hug with a sickening squelch, trying to get as much ectoplasm on him as you could. A smile slowly crept across his lips. "Oh, yes. Thank you, sweetheart. Yes, I love you, too." 

"I also love you, Eegs," Peter said as he approached Egon with open arms.

"I love you as long as you stay at least five feet away from me right now, Venkman."

Peter put his arms down. "Yeah, alright. That's fair." 

Part 2

[bredforloyalty]

could you possibly elaborate more on how you found that ao3 fic that was previously deleted? i’ve lost soo many memorable ones over the years & if there is a way to find them via backup it would be such a game changer

of course!!! i don't know how you are with computers, i feel like tumblr users in general are pretty good at tech stuff or whatever and people in my circles are within the age range that uses computers or learned how in school so,, forgive me if there are too many details and you feel like i'm talking to you like to a toddler hdsgxy ((my sister, who's only a little younger than me, for example is very very online but not on her laptop and the lessons at her high school weren't very helpful, so she's just not very good at computer. so i tried to be thorough and make this friendly to someone who doesn't torrent, doesn't use excel, etc) <3

first, if you still have the link to the deleted fic (like, say, from a fic rec post or a forum), you can try searching on the wayback machine, but you probably tried that already! or you don't have a link! i just didn't want to leave it out ^^

so what actually helped me is there's this post, that uh i got this from, take a look at it, it might seem long or intimidating but i promise it's not complicated! BUT in case this helps, i'll also write down roughly what you need to know here (and then you can maybe read or skim that post looking for this info if you want): there is an archive of text files from ao3; the zip files of many many fics come with two sqlite files of metadata, basically databases that you can download and view/search with the appropriate program (db browser for sqlite is what op recommends and that worked just fine for me). and what you will be able to see, if you download the metadata, is whether the particular fic you're looking for is in the archive at all + where exactly you can find it in the zip files (so,, which batch of files has the file you want)

then op says that once you know which zip you need, you can download that and extract only the fic(s) you want. but this isn't always necessary actually, more on that in a second, it's just the general idea. i mean the idea is: get sqlite browser → download one of the sqlite files (takes time) → open it in the browser (file → open read only) → filter for whichever column you want to find what you're looking for (you can do the author or the exact title or a relationship and just browse too, ofc) → look at the first column that shows the path, this is where you can find the fic → download that zip (takes more time) → use winrar or another compression program/extractor to get that file and voilà

ok so, when you click on "show all files" on the internet archive, you'll be able to see that 'ao3_old_files' is 6.5 gigabytes, while 'ao3_current' is 18.3. if you're looking for a newer fic, it should be somewhere within the latter batch of zip files, which is hmm not ideal because it took me a while to download just 6.5 gb lmao so i don't know how much time 18 would take.. however !! if you look in the replies, you'll see op (and others?) helping whoever doesn't have the storage space or the stable internet or the time or patience to download bigger files. it's definitely worth a shot to ask them personally to look for what you want (unless it's vague, bc then it might be too much digging to ask a stranger to do but yeah otherwise op seems to have ao3_current.sqlite3)!

and if you want to look in 'ao3_old_files', i have that so obviously i'll check for you! and let's say i check and i find the fic you want. then i can do this

so the zip file (a bunch of excess data) doesn't even have to be downloaded. it just opened the fic in plain text for me 👍 unfortunately i don't know if there's a way to skip steps with the zip files that are queues, as in the ones that contain current fics and mainly epubs.... sorry </3

i hope you can find what you're looking for!! let me know if i can help with anything

[bluelizze]

I DECIDED TO MAKE A POST ABOUT MY GENERINE REACTIONS TO ACCIDENTAL BF PT 4 (omg pls read this series it’s a gem by the wonderful @tenkover)

also i was just causally looping this edit while i was doing this

"You reach up and fix his crooked septum. He blushes. That damn thing."

SINCE WHEN DID TOMURA HAD A SEPTUM (ngl I actually looked up what it was bc idk what it was and I WAS SHOCKED MY JAW DROPPED)

“Why would I want to,” Tomura smiles and kisses the top of your head. He wants to absorb you… you can crawl into his ribcage any day and make yourself at home."

HEAD KISSES >>>>

“The Izuku thing, for example, like, we started off as friends just getting to know each other and out of the blue he gets handsy. It felt like all the friendship building was just… fake– and it was. His entire personality changed when I told him I won't be with him. I've had that happen before. It makes me feel… so alone. Or just generally talking to men. If you're nice you are flirting and they feel entitled to your… well, body. It hurts. And if you aren't nice… you put yourself in danger. My dad taught me to always be polite– well, too much because…. I was nice to my stalker. It's dumb– I am. That's also why I always do what people want… it is the path of least resistance.”

OH SHIT IZUKU LORE WITH READER

also reader being real here bc I always feel like I have to put on a mask around certain people so I sometimes have identity crisis (that’s why I relate to furina and mafuyu A LOT)

“He's always late!” Himiko sighs. “I'd never let you wait, (Y/N)-chan! If Tomura ever lets you wait– just text me, kay?”

HIMIKO BEING READER’S NEW BESTIE

“Really? Voice changer? Cmon, man,” Tomura says and pinches his nose.

OMG DABI BEING MYSTERIOUS BY USING A VOICE CHANGER XDDDD (I know who you are dabi LOLOL)

“Is it because… your friend who got a girlfriend?” He sobs.

OMG????? Does touya love reader?!?! (I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case)

“Y-Yes. Sorry. I… I wanted to ask if I can soft launch you on Instagram?”

SOFT LANUGH 🥹🥹🥹🥹

“When I'm back… can we maybe go on a date? Get Boba and sit in the park?

BOBA DATE BOBA DATE BOBA DATE (I’m drinking one rn)

“Please just leave… go to your boyfriend.” You frown and a lump grows steadily in your throat. You look at the back of his head. His light hair looks badly tangled. “Touya… is that the problem?” “Yep.”

OH I AM RIGHT!!! (not but surprised but STILL THE REVEAL 😤😤😤)

Yes. Thank… you. Hey, one more thing… you're not a serial killer?” “When does it become serial?” “After 5?” “Oh no then we're good.”

OMG I SEE YOU USED THE REFERENCE IM SO HAPPY HDHROWCHOAFNNQ

“During semester break he showed up here and introduced himself as my boyfriend to my dad. I don’t know if you know how charming Izuku can be… my dad loved him. And… I had to play along because if my dad knew that I have a stalker he would never let me go back to uni. So… when he finally pissed off I tried to do damage control and told my dad that I was planning to break up with him– this is so stupid.”

IZUKU you mother fucker 🙃

He snorts. “Talk later… honey..?”

HE CALLS US HONEY 🥹🥹🥹 (I love nicknames like those)

Toshinori wraps his arms around you, almost smothering you with the intensity of his embrace. “Kid, you don’t ever need to justify coming home.”

HOW COME IM SURPRISE THAT ITS TOSHINORI (FOR SOME REASON I THOUGHT IT WAS SOMEONE DIFFERENT BUT I SHOULDVE EXPECTED IT DAMN)

“You love him,” Toshinori chuckles and wipes his hands on a kitchen towel before starting to chop up some tomatoes. “You should see how your eyes are sparkling right now.”

TOSHINORI BEING A BEST DAD 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭😭😭

“You are Dabi!” You wave the phone.

OMG THE REVEAL DABI AND TOUYA R THE SAME PERSON (but not surprised bc cmon)

“Holy shit. Now I get what you were saying– Tomura is the guy you have a crush on."

OH SHIT WAIT HOLD UP WHAT A FUCKING PLOT TWIST WHAT WHAT WHAT IDURJDJDJGOMG

OMG YOU HAVE TWISTED THE PLOT EVEN MORE BY HAVING TOUYA CRUSHING ON TOMURA INSTEAD OMG THATS PRETTY REFRESHING I LOVE IT OMG

omg first spinner and now touya. everyone having a crush on tomura on this fic and honstly, that's valid

"Dude, I thought you were confessing TO ME!”

I THOUGHT SO TOO

“No– did you just forget I am gay or what?! Be for real.”

YES I DID FORGET OR I MISREAD IT SOMEHOW

Tenko doesn't remember and Tomura can't face the truth.

OMG WHY U GOTTA END IT LIKE THIS OFRMC EQOJVCUOWDVIPQEBPIBCWDPI

[thelocal-alien]

Gravity Falls would make a really fun D&D campaign.

Dipper is a wizard, Mabel is a bard, Stan is a rogue, Ford is a warlock, and Soos is a monk

The DM normally likes to run big, intricately planned storylines, but it gets draining. For this game, they decide to relax and just do a fun monster-of-the-week game without much overarching story.

Soos's player isn't much help because he's new to the game & has a busy schedule irl, but no one minds. He isn't as much into the game as he is into hanging out with his friends, so he's fine just being the party's moral support.

Dipper's player took character creation more seriously, while Stan and Mabel were silly joke characters. Their players are the only two brave enough to do character voices, though.

Ford's player was a member of the friend group that moved away. She texts the group chat to announce she's moving back; can she join the campaign when she gets the chance? The DM asks her to send Ford’s character sheet & backstory to them before she joins, “just in case”. She texts “I hope you don’t mind me having a homebrew patron 🫣” before sending the DM 5 pages of Ford backstory and a full stat block for a homebrew Great Old One named Bill Cipher. The DM’s urge to make huge intricate plots kicks in. “OMG I have so many ideas already. Can I use Bill as a character in the campaign?”

Stan has a long lost twin brother, but the DM hasn’t been able to work that into the campaign yet. Suddenly, Stan’s player gets an idea. He frantically texts the DM and Ford’s player. They come up with a scheme together. This is SO going to blow everyone’s minds.

For Ford’s player’s first session, she mostly sits on the sidelines. Everyone keeps asking the DM when her character gets introduced, but they never answer. Then Stan says “The author of the journals. My brother.” Enter Ford. The whole table goes ballistic.

The campaign is suddenly a lot more plot focused, and the players are hooked. The DM keeps trying to lean into cosmic horror, but the players are DETERMINED to goof off. DM is really good at building tension, though, so sometimes they get into the serious RP despite themselves.

The DM has A LOT of fun playing Bill. They pull out an actual voice changer for him during Weirdmageddon, and it gets almost as big of a reaction as the Ford reveal. During the final session, they literally scream themself hoarse acting out Bill’s death. It’s awesome. Long after this campaign ends, yelling “STANLEEEEEEYYYY” is an inside joke among the friend group.

[tomtenadia]

Detours to you - ch 5

I have a day off and it's the perfect time to post. I wrote a lot thins morning and I think I am about 2 or 3 chapters away from the ending.

For now I' ll leave you with this chapter

The following morning Rowan stood in front of a fancy building where his friend Vaughan had his law firm. He had texted him the night before for help after the exchange with Aelin. He wanted to ask an opinion to his friend and see if there was a road available without going through a full custody battle. He wanted to be in his daughter’s life but Aelin was settled on fighting him on that front. 

He took a deep breath and entered the building. In front of his friend’s office he knocked and waited to be invited in.

“Rowan! So the gossip is true, you are back!”

“Indeed I am.”

“Look at you,” Vaughan pointed at his uniform “Chief nonetheless. How does it feel?”

“Still adjusting,” he admitted.

Both men sat down and Vaughan relaxed in his chair “Before we start, it’s my obligation to tell you that I deal in criminal law. If you decide to really go ahead with this, I would suggest you to get a family law lawyer and I can help you with that.”

“I just need some counselling for now.”

Vaughan nodded “Your situation is complicated. In case of divorce or separation the parents can agree on joint custody, physical, legal or both. But you and Aelin are not divorced or separated which complicates things.”

Rowan nodded.

“As it stands now Aelin is the sole legal guardian which means that it’s up to her to decide how much access you can have to Maya.” He explained “As it stands you have a very weak claim.”

“Surely the fact that I was lied to will count. The fact that I want to be involved in my daughter’s life must weigh something. I was robbed of five years of her life.”

“If you go to court you will have to prove that your presence in Maya’s life would be beneficial.”

Rowan groaned “Of course, I am the father.”

“Yes, but the judge will consider how this will affect Maya. I assume you haven’t told her yet?”

Rowan shook his head “No, Aelin wants me to be just a friend for now.”

“They will consider all of this. Assess if your job will allow you to look after her, if you can provide for her. But more importantly,” he paused “if Maya does not want you in her life that will likely block any kind of access to her.”

“How on earth am I going to build a rapport with her if I can’t be with her?”

Vaughan nodded “I suggest that you and Aelin take some time to discuss all of this. Try to create a plan, a schedule, but most of all tell Maya as soon as possible that you are her father.”

“Aelin will not agree to that.”

“In my humble opinion at the moment she sees you as a stranger who knows her mum, with a very superficial relationship. The moment you tell her the truth that’s when the real thing can develop.”

Rowan let out a ragged breath “This is so fucked up.”

Vaughan chuckled “Oh yes. That’s why I’d rather put criminal behind bars than witness parents fighting over who has the right to the children. It was enough to hear the horror story from Lorcan’s parents divorce battle to actually put me off family law completely.”

“One more thing, do you know if Aelin has added your name to the birth certificate? Because that could be a game changer.”

Rowan shook his head then looked at his watch “I have to go to work. I have a meeting in an hour. Thanks. I have a lot to consider. And I will do some investigating on the birth certificate.”

Vaughan stood and patted him on the shoulder “Talk it out Ro. Do not involve lawyers and keep me posted.”

“Will do.”

Rowan left the building and went back to work mulling over Vaughan’s words.

*

That morning Aelin’s bookshop had a special guest. Maya was staying at the shop with her. She had kept her home from school for a day. She hadn’t slept much because of her injury and when she suggested to go to her grandparents, her daughter had refused so she took her to work. Maya loved the bookstore and presently was sitting at the children’s table and showing off her cast to other kids. She was holding court that it was a hockey injury.

Aelin smiled but her protective senses kicked in. She had also spent the night thinking about the argument she had with Rowan. She had not liked the comment with the telescope, as if he was inviting her to his place. Maya was her responsibility and he should pass any ideas through her first. She was going to allow him in but on her own terms. 

Maya ran to her “Mama, look at my drawing!”

Aelin grabbed the paper and gasped. It was a drawing of her and Rowan on the ice “Can you give it to Rowan?” Her heart raced. One meeting was that all it took for Maya to get attached to him?

“I will do the next time I see him. I am sure he will love it.”

“He is funny.” Maya grinned and walked away happily back to the drawing table.

“What is that?” Asked Lysandra walking to the counter and noticing the drawing.

“Maya drew a present for Rowan.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Torn. He is too pushy.”

Lysandra sighed “Or maybe he is just a father eager to spend time with his daughter,” she added “You can’t blame him for being smitten already. She is the cutest.”

“That she is.”

“Or maybe it’s all down to the fact that you still have feelings for him?”

Aelin scoffed hard “No.”

“Ae, you two had been together almost forever and I am sure that if he hadn’t left, you’d be married by now. Aeds told me that he caught Rowan looking at jewellery stores online for engagement rings. I think that he confessed him he was waiting for the store to be completed and then propose in here.”

Aelin froze. Rowan was going to propose in her store. Her hand went to her mouth and stopped the sob that was fighting to be let free.

“Why you never told me?”

“He was away, it seemed pointless, but now…” added Lysandra quietly “Maybe it’s worth try and pick up from where you left off. For Maya’s sake too.”

Aelin ran a hand through her hair “my mum said the same thing.”

Lysandra grinned “we all know that Evalin is a wise woman.”

“Ae, you two broke up because he had to leave and long distance was going to be hell, not because you stopped being in love,” Lys spotted some customers “Think about it.” And walked away.

Aelin stared at the computer and at the order that was still open and ready to be sent.

Lys was right they had broken up because the situation was difficult, not because they had fallen out of love. It had taken her a long time to stop missing him and she had a feeling that with time she had only pushed him at the back of her mind but never forgot him. How could she? Rowan had been the love of her life and her home. And in that instant she felt an ache in her soul that she had thought had gone forever. 

Her soul was missing its other half and Aelin knew that everything was all of a sudden a lot more complicated.

*

Rowan went back to his office after his meeting with the commissioner. Chin on his folded hands he stared at the screen in front of him. He was looking at the proposal they had discussed together but his brain was not focusing. He kept thinking about the fight he had with Aelin and the chat he had with Vaughan. His friend had given him some good suggestions. 

He was about to type something on his keyboard when someone knocked at the door.

“Chief, I bring some of the reports from yesterday from the firehouses.” The woman dropped the documents on his desk.

“Thank you, Lyria.” 

Rowan ignored the pile of documents staring at him and started doing some research on family law and the rights of the father in an unmarried couple. He read a few websites and all told the same line. Unless he was married to the mother or had obtained a parental responsibility agreement by a court he would have no rights. He wanted to scream. Then he remembered what Vaughan had said about the birth certificate and started to investigate on the city council how to access the registrar for births. He knew the date so at least he had that. It took him a good fifteen minutes of digging before finally finding the registrar. He registered, followed all the steps and reached the portal to retrieve the certificate. He typed Maya’s name and surname and then her date of birth. A moment later a document appeared in front of him. On the mother line there was Aelin’s name. He was ready for an empty space near the father’s section but he gasped in surprise when he saw his name. Rowan Whitethorn stood there in black capital letters.

He saved the document quickly and then sat back against his chair. Aelin had registered him as the father. It really was a game changer. The law stated that if the father appeared on the birth certificate he’d have same rights as the mother. Why had Aelin added him? He was even more confused, but at least now he knew that he was not totally powerless. A sense of relief washed over him. He still had to convince Aelin that he was serious about wanting to know Maya. It had only been a few days and they were all still adjusting to the new situation. He might give her some days to think about it. 

A small break before trying again. 

*

After Maya was fully asleep in bed, Aelin climbed in the attic and grabbed a box that had not touched in five years. It contained some of the things that reminded her of Rowan. Of the years they had lived together in that house, the dreams. After the break up she had stashed all the stuff away.

She sat on the floor and removed the lid and their past flooded back like a tsunami. A green foam finger of the first game of the Stags they had watched together, the CDs he had burned for her, movie tickets and photo albums, a lot of them. She picked one and opened it. It was their first trip to Wendlyn, when she had met his parents. His clan had welcomed her in with open arms. One one page there was a picture of Alasdair, Rowan’s dad, hugging her. Tears welled in her eyes. She had loved the man, he was caring and had loved her like a daughter from day one. There were pictures of their trip the the southern islands when they had rented a boat and explored the continent. She scrolled through the photos and saw one of her sitting on the bow of the boat while still docked and then noticed the name Maya. Memories came rushing back of the night when, while moored in the middle of the sea, they lay on the deck, made love under the stars and Rowan confessed that he liked the name and they should use it if they ever had a daughter. After her daughter was born the nurse had asked her if she had a name and Aelin had blurted out Maya almost on instinct.

Then, at the bottom of the box she found a letter with a sonogram attached to it. With trembling hands she read it.

Dear Rowan,

While I am writing this, you are probably on the boat towards Wendlyn, towards home.

I am sorry. I want you to know that breaking up things was not easy. I wish I could take it back because it hurts like hell. You are my home and should be here.

But I had to let you go because your mum needs you and I can’t be selfish, not when you have just lost your father.

And now, more than ever, I understand this since I discovered that I am pregnant with your child. I am mad at fate. We had dreams of a family and now that is happening I had to let you go.

I am sorry.

I hope one day you will be able to forgive me.

I love you,

To whatever end.

Then another letter with a picture of a newborn Maya

Dear Rowan,

You are a dad. Maya is born and she is the most beautiful gift I could have asked for.

Yes, Maya like the boat. I listen, see?

She is just like you, her hair is silver as yours as she has your piercing green eyes.

A bit of you, when you are away.

I miss you but I am too scared to call you because the secret I kept from you is too big.

I miss you so much.

And another with a picture of an older Maya

Dear Rowan,

Maya turned one today.

It’s been over a year since I let you go and… I miss you. She said her first word and she crawls all over the house. I baby-proofed our flat because in my head I had your voice telling me to make the house safe. You are always with me. 

I am sorry. I don’t know if you will ever read these letters but I just need to tell you that I am sorry. I hope that you are happy. That your mum is fine.

And the dreamer in me hopes to see you again.

I love you. I will always love you.

At the bottom of the letter there was a small hand print. It was Maya’s.

She had forgot of all the letters she wrote to him. Most of them had pictures of Maya and tales of some important milestones.

One by one she grabbed all the letters and set them aside.

Then she climbed back down and placed the pile in the drawer of her nightstand.

To whatever end… she whispered.

A promise that they had exchanged a long time ago.

A promise that she had broken.

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[transmutationisms]

Repeat anon from before talking about bodily superiority and piss <3 I can't believe you picked up SO spot on. I've been reading Kropotkin's Mutual Aid for a couple years, revisited it the other day, and I owe that exact read of Succession to the dude. What you said about the show presenting a sharp analysis of the characters' ethical motivations tracks with me too. I did get ahead of myself tho, 100%. I get your point now, Succession really has refrained from telling a clear cohesive politic to imagine different worlds, like anarchism or communism. Came to my next conclusion more after chewing on your reply: its core philosophy runs incompatible to liberation. This has been stuck in my head since I heard it, Jesse Armstrong in Controlling the Narrative for the S3 finale goes, "People's essential selves don't change. In a way that's what makes drama and choices interesting." I do witness that bleed throughout the show. I love that the writers put capitalism and fascism under a microscope through the characters' intimate, erotic relationships with each other. But the thing is, they tell us stories over and over of their failures to change. Like, if Succession's a tragedy about characters stuck in unbreakable cycles of failure, then is it also a tragedy that considers capitalism and possibly all forms of domination unbreakable cycles, too? If so, not a cute vibe! Genuine Q that lingers since day 1, that I don't think the show answers... yet. Unless Waystar crashes at the end with no reiteration in sight, I wouldn't be surprised if the show sticks that landing more firm for the big finale. At best I could read a core story of Succession being that the characters' circumstances (nuclear family, corporation, capitalism) keep setting them up for tragedy precisely because of their more basic senses of cooperation, and the show's input ends there. And I'd love that, honestly. But I have a feeling the show will bring us to a more hopeless place, I only don't know where yet.

ok i knew it.... yeah kropotkin had such a major influence on basically all left-leaning understandings of evolutionary theory. i mean prior to him the options were basically bourgeois darwinian malthusianism or some strain of lamarckism, which latter was 1) increasingly hereditarian anyway, 2) not emphatically structured around 'natural selection', and 3) fundamentally drawing from sensationalist psychology, which meant moral sense tended to be presented as a result of habituation rather than as a rational social interest. so you can see why kropotkin was such a game-changer for anyone invested in defending any version of evolution-by-natural-selection as a non-teleological, non-theistic, materialist view of nature---but without the addition of british capitalism lol.

anyway, to answer your actual question: yeah, this is a huge tension in the show imo, and it follows from it being a huge tension in marx. in interviews jesse has quoted the marx line right out of '18th brumaire' about circumstances constraining men, and talked about how he doesn't think people fundamentally change. there are obvious reasons why, in that particular text, marx was especially pessimistic about the possibility for people to defy their circumstances lol---1849 was his case study in history 'repeating itself' because of (what he saw as) essentially the same class tensions as in 1799 rearing their heads again. but at the same time, marx's entire political project was predicated on the notion that true revolution is not just possible but expected, as an outcome of the historical development of the productive forces in conjunction with increasing labour estrangement and alienation.

frankly i don't think the show will end with waystar destructing or anyone meaningfully changing their social, political, or economic positions. and this would be fine, IF the read is, like you said, that the continued imposition of structures of capitalist production constrains the characters to acting in this selfish, dominance-seeking, antisocial way. like, i'm fine with the notion that the entire show is a tragedy and always has been, and that the characters are incapable of change as long as their circumstances remain the same. but i agree with you that there's a risk of implying (or outright stating, lol) that people are simply and intrinsically incapable of meaningful change for reasons predating capitalism and grounded in some kind of bio-psychological discourse. i would hate this ending and this moral lol and i have been hoping for 3 and a half seasons now that the writers' room is too smart to take us there. we really will have to see how these last few episodes play out.

i'd add that i think this sense of hopelessness and helplessness can add to the show's psychological writing, for example in the cynicism and nihilism of roman. roman essentially sees capitalism as an alien force he can't control or counter in any meaningful way, so why bother? which is certainly true to how many people (even literal billionaires) feel in the face of such a complex and entangled system. and it's not like i expect the show to end with some kind of raising of revolutionary consciousness, but i also don't want it to end with a total denial of the possibility of human cooperation and mutual aid as governing behavioural principles in different circumstances. i don't believe that as a species we're doomed to the way logan roy capitalism encourages us to act, and it'll really annoy me if that's where the show lands after all this time lol.

that said, i do think no one on this show is escaping their circumstances in any material way. i don't think any of them actually want out (certainly not the kids, tom, greg, or the old guard) and i do believe that the broad outlines of the ending have been pretty clear since day one. whether or not they keep waystar they will continue to operate in logan's world because his empire was always just one articulation of this broader capitalist discourse on domination and 'survival of the fittest'. even if a character on this show tried to cash out and dip they'd still be caught in this global financial web, and none of them are inclined to do that anyway because [class interests and family business]. which is i guess to say that i don't think we will see any of these characters change on a deeper level, but i think it's possible for the show to end that way and still frame it in a way that allows for alternate readings of human behaviour and sociability IF placed in different material circumstances. we'll see whether jesse and the writers have the subtlety to stick that landing, though. ultimately yes, the show is a character study and not a political polemic, but i will be really very irritated if it turns out to be a character study premised on a fundamentally reactionary, essentialist understanding of 'human nature' and social behaviour lol.

[fieriframes]

[♪ Nothing grows right anymore. Scars on every stalk. Whose mouth should I use to talk?]

VI - Les Secrets de Dieu Caché dans la texture de la montagne, se trouvait un code QR. J'ai pris mon portable, zoomé et scanné le code. Ça n'a pas marché. J'ai réessayé. Pas cette fois non plus. La caméra l'ignorait simplement. Je n'ai pas compris. J'étais sûr que c'était un code QR, j'ai regardé ce motif un million de fois ces dernières années. Après un moment, j'ai remarqué quelque chose: le code manquait un détail important. En fait, trois détails importants. J'ai trouvé un éditeur de photos rudimentaire en ligne et ouvert la couverture de l'album. J'ai dessiné un carré en haut à gauche, en haut à droite et en bas à gauche du motif pour compléter le code QR. Avec mon souffle retenu, j'ai ouvert la caméra et essayé encore une autre fois. Quelque chose se passait. En dessous du code apparaissait une carré jaune avec le texte I Tego Arcana Dei et une flèche pour ouvrir le lien du site Web dans un navigateur. J'ai longtemps regardé ces mots et finalement décidé de cliquer sur le lien.

Devant moi se trouvait un site web dans une langue que je ne comprenais pas. Une langue pas familière, un peu comme les hiéroglyphes anciens. En fait, les lettres étaient vachement jolies, très fluides et artistiques. J'ai pris une photo pour envoyer à un de mes amis et j’ai commencé à enquêter sur le site web. Au-dessus de ce texte que je ne comprenais pas, il y avait une case. J'ai commencé à écrire dedans. Des cercles sont apparus. Un mot de passe. Un coup d’épée dans l'eau, mais j'ai essayé leonora. La case s’est mise à trembler, comme pour dire non. Leonora avec un L majuscule. Non. Arcana. Non. Tarot. Non. La même avec tous les noms des cartes de tarot. Je me suis endormie en tapant La Rêveuse et je me suis réveillé quelques heures plus tard pour cliquer sur Entrée. Juste pour faire trembler à nouveau la boîte.

J'ai même envisagé de rendre une autre visite à Amélia, la lectrice de cartes de tarot, pour obtenir des conseils sur la façon de procéder, mais j'ai décidé de ne pas le faire après m'être souvenu de la façon dont j'avais laissé les choses la dernière fois.

Les jours suivants, c’était un panel de différents mot de passe et j'ai essayé et réessayé, même mon propre nom, sans aucune chance. J'avais besoin de changer de tactique, donc, j'ai décidé de rechercher la phrase I Tego Arcana Dei. En latin, se traduit par "Partez ! Je détiens les secrets de Dieu." Comme si ce n'était pas assez menaçant, c'est aussi une anagramme pour Et In Arcadia Ego, une citation latine qui signifie "Moi, je suis aussi en Arcadie". On dit que le "moi" dans cette phrase est la mort. Même au paradis, nul n'échappe au destin des mortels. Cette phrase est souvent associée à un célèbre tableau de Nicolas Poussin portant le même titre, également connu sous le nom Les Bergers d'Arcadie. Dans ce tableau, on voit une scène pastorale avec des bergers idéalisés de l'antiquité classique. Quatre bergers étaient réunis autour d'un tombeau austère portant cette inscription. Le tableau est conservé au Louvre.

Naturellement, je suis allé au Louvre. Après 30 minutes à être perdu à l'intérieur de ce musée géant, je l'ai trouvé. Les Bergers d'Arcadie. C'était immense. Je me tenais face à face avec les bergers qui pointent la tombe avec l'inscription. J'ai remarqué l’environnement, le paysage pastoral et les mêmes montagnes que la couverture de l'album (selon toute vraisemblance une coïncidence). Trois bergers étaient clairement préoccupés par la tombe et son inscription Et In Arcadia Ego tandis que la bergère semblait être dans son propre monde. Profondément dans la pensée. A quoi pensait-elle ? Que savait-elle ? En regardant ce tableau en personne, j'ai ressenti quelque chose que je n'avais pas ressenti en regardant des photos en ligne. Familiarité. Les visages, l'endroit, tout semblait étrangement familier. Pourtant, j'étais presque certain de ne pas être tombé sur ce tableau auparavant.

Alors que je déroulais mes souvenirs, ma concentration a été perturbée par un ami qui m'a appelé. J'avais oublié que j'avais envoyé une photo du site avec les symboles étranges à mon ami Paddington qui s'intéressait aux langues anciennes et à toutes les choses cachées dans le passé. Paddington s'excusa d'avoir pris autant de temps, mais comme ce n'était pas une vraie langue, iel a dû se renseigner. J'ai demandé ce qu'iel voulait dire, et apparemment, c'était un alphabet qui n'avait jamais été déchiffré. Une langue utilisée uniquement dans un livre mystérieux du début du 15e siècle appelé le Manuscrit de Voynich. Comme la langue elle-même n'avait jamais été déchiffrée, l'auteur du site Web avait utilisé une cartographie visuelle du Voynich qui contient l'alphabet latin. Après avoir identifié cette cartographie, iel a pu traduire le petit texte.

Paddington a pris une profonde inspiration puis m'a lu la traduction.

[swordatsunset]

left my phone on the desk and i dont feel like getting up to text u so it comes in the ask box instead but basically i have a larger problem with current d20 in this way of like. ok i think fhsy was an anomaly in terms of the way d20 was done; it was only one play session per week, and there was time to see the (small fandom) response in between episodes and marinate on plot beats and such. the way d20 is done now (and has been for a good while) is that they pump out a ton of it in a short span (the rpdr problem. girl i dont need another season the last one JUST ended) & it has become largely formulaic.

d20 was never truly pushing the boundaries of actual play and has had problems since its conception -- problems that largely were ignored bc they were noobs, the fandom was new, and the collegehumor->dropout transition was new.

when we now get an intrepid heroes season its essentially fan service. as much as i love TUC (tho i have a lot to criticize abt TUC) and the original FH hit a lot of notes for me, there's just simply better actual play out there that isnt swallowing the wotc boot and are filled with new voices who are choosing to be in the space to very little return...

i enjoy dropout. i miss the scripted content a lot, and i enjoy game changer and the occasional um actually. i think falling victim to nostalgia is not always a good thing, and i try to be critical of the ways in which i think of certain media as "the good ol' days".....i think d20 can take a lot of lessons from other actual play media tho. and while i dont hate everything thats come out in the past year from them, i dont love it either, and thats fine. theres a lot of (looks up at the wall of text) WHOA. ok i think you get the point. (this is the point at which i added paragraph breaks)

Hi Sroel!!!! Hmmmm well I dunno while I agree with you on some points I don't feel like this is a d20-wide problem inasmuch as it is a d20 main cast problem; I say that because the non-main cast episodes are much less formulaic since they generally have varying episode lengths/different play systems/different styles of episodes that aren't story-battle. That plus the fact that they're filled with different cast members makes it so that any criticism of those seasons are going to be pretty divorced from my criticism of main cast seasons which are the quote unquote flagship seasons tbh.

And I would say that like, I don't think d20 was ever trying to market itself as revolutionary as much as fans began to approach them that way. The way I remember it is d20 was pitched as comedians telling 'shorter form' actual play stories. Different in the actual play landscape, yes, but not revolutionary imo! My problems w d20/the main cast aren't really affected by their place in the wider, like, actual play landscape since I think there's a pretty big diversity of stories being told in d20 and dropout as a whole. If it was marketing itself as a singular campaign I think things would be different, but the fact that I can pick up and put down different shows makes me feels like criticisms of it should be more specific to specific shows if that makes sense.

I guess most of my problems with d20 are aimed at a different place than yours, which is totally fine! I think my problems come down to a case by case(cast by cast?) basis more than any overarching problems with d20 the 'franchise' since I haven't seen much that's formulaic in the way that main cast d20 sort of 'has' to be. And I do think a lot of that is because of the fans more than anything, as well as the way playing with the same people makes you stagnate!

[lesbianchemicalplant]

New Super Mario Land is a [SNES] homebrew created by M. Nagler and released in 2019. This is version 1.5.

So apparently, in 2019, someone released a SNES homebrew recreation of the 1989 gameboy game Super Mario Land

They made it from the ground up (there’s not much in the way of homebrew dev tools for the SNES) as a gift for their friends

Incredibly, it also features multiplayer support for up to 4 players simultaneously:

(A physical SNES can handle 4 controllers via a multitap peripheral. The above video is recorded from netplay, though)

Interview with the creator, from the day after it was initially posted online: [nintendolife link]

This game was intended as a personal Christmas gift for my Nintendo-loving friends to commemorate the 30th anniversary of Super Mario Land, which may not be the best, but is the first Mario game I owned, and it definitely was a game-changer for seven-year-old me. I produced 30 cartridges and I have sent most of these out via mail by now.

[...]

Just to be perfectly clear, this is not a ROM-hack or modification of an existing game. I also did not reuse any data or code from the original Super Mario Land. The game itself was developed just like the bulk of commercial SNES games were developed back in the nineties: programmed from scratch in Assembly language using a text editor on a PC, with custom-made tools to convert data such as graphics, music and levels into a format the SNES is able to use. The crucial difference is that today, we have powerful SNES emulators that speed up the build and test iteration and have tons of useful debugging features.

The tools used were the excellent SNES emulator bsnes, Blender for 3D modelling and animation, Gimp for graphics editing, Tiled for level editing, MilkyTracker for music composition and so forth. Also used was a Map Editor called Land Forger for the original Super Mario Land as a reference to make sure the level design and enemy placement was faithful.

Furthermore, I keep a variety of different revisions of SNES/SFC consoles for testing to make sure the game works fine on every version of real hardware. I have never developed a modern game, so I can't speak with confidence on this one, but nowadays in the age of engines like Unity, all the low-level-stuff is usually taken care of and you can concentrate on actually implementing your game.

The library/framework situation on the SNES ranges from dire to nonexistent in comparison. Even by contemporary standards, the slow SNES CPU doesn't help either and makes generalization and adding abstraction layers difficult because you usually have to hand-optimize your code pretty aggressively to your specific use case to get even moderate performance.

Archive.org page with the latest version (1.5): [archive.org link]