#New York Times Irresponsible

[timbarrus]

Take notes. The old Monstrosity is going to shove this plan down your American throats. I am always kicked out into the street for saying this stuff, but it happens to be the uncivil truth. Moderators, grow up. You have no idea what it feels like to get your kids out of this invented mess. I lost my family because the Monstrosity reigns, and 2025 will rip our voices from our throats. Just like a moderator on a binge. No voices means the United States of America is in a civil war. A resistance will now emerge. It will have no head leader because it would be easy for the Monstrosity to kill any leader It wants. 2025's problem is called Erasing Your Voice. Americans want It. The New York Times is cowardly. The High Executive Committee Of Tea and Crumpets Declares (existential) Going Forward Politely. If Americans think the Monstrosity reads 2,000 pages, then I am Maria of Romania. It's ignorant. It has one goal, and that is to break the United States of America, and you are fine with this game plan to break the United States of America down to the status of a mote of dust. Eyes. Ears. Mouth. But no. That us little people would have a voice is trampled at NYT. The Monstrosity wants revenge and It will get it. He seeks to take away our voices, and so does the New York Times. Americans cower and shiver. We are undone. Americans want a civil war. The New York Times refuses to allow diverse voices. It wants a fake compliance of voice. You will swallow 2025 whole but politely.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 43

PREV

FF is a pretty good student. Solid Bs in his Gen-eds and As in regard to his major. With one C+ that he’s still working on with Captain Neil but it’s higher than the D+ that he had been pulling before Captain Neil had started to tutor him and he really just needs to pass the one gen-ed required math class.

There was many a deep breathing exercise before he made an appointment with his educational advisor for the next semester back in October but it hadn’t been that bad even though she was the one that had asked if he knew anyone good at math since it obviously was not a strong suit of his. So he dragged his grade up from a D+ to a C+ and he was pretty proud of that.

FF has a preferred spot in each and every one of his classrooms. In his Gen-Ed courses he sits in spots that the Professors don’t even notice and where there is almost always a gap between him and the next person. He arrives perfectly almost late every single day for every single class he can to achieve this feat.

For his Major classes he sits near the front with the few Foreign Language major friends that he has.

FF likes to be prepared. Studying was a nice way to prepare for the future. If he’s already read the entire textbook front to back and taken notes then a pop quiz can’t catch him off guard. He double, triple, and quadruple checks homework. He could probably recite the syllabus for any of his classes off the top of his head. He has read it so much to make sure he’s gotten everything and is on track.

FF kind of likes finals week.

For once, for one week, everyone is as anxious as him.

He sits next to Nicky patting his back as his friend sobs into a pillow. “I’m not going to graduate and it’s going to delay seeing Erik by an entire year!” Nicky yells as he brings his face out of the pillow.

“Nicky, you only got one flashcard wrong how about you shut the fuck up!” Aaron yells from his desk where he seems to have spontaneously developed ambidextrousness as he writes notes with both hands. “Fuck I am NEVER fitting all of this one one index card.” Aaron slams his face into the table.

“I don’t even need this degree.” Matt says looking down at a textbook that he has not turned a page on for the last hour. The fact that Matt had also not even opened that textbook before now was a bit of a cause for concern. “I’ve already got offers for professional teams. I can just play Exy. I do not need to pass a workplace psychology course.” Matt says.

“You think Dan wants an idiot?!” Nicky demands not wanting to go down alone.

“She thinks it’s cute that I’m stupid!” Matt exclaims.

“No she doesn’t!” Aaron points at him, “She said and I quote ‘I love it when you use that big ol sexy brain of yours.’ the last time you had her on speaker phone!” he uses a slightly more…effeminate voice when he impersonates Dan but FF had spoken with Dan and to his memory she did not sound like that.

“Fuck you’re right she deserves an all rounder!” Matt cries, head in his hands.

“Why do I even have to TAKE this Gen-Ed about history?” Nicky demands now holding onto FF as if he were a teddy bear.

“So that we’re well-rounded individuals with a wider perspective on-”

“Smithy, my sweet child, I was not looking for an answer.” he feels Nicky’s hand come up to his hair and maybe he’s being treated more like a favored pet?

“You’re having trouble with a Gen-Ed?!” Aaron asks turning around in his seat, “That’s embarrassing.” he turns his nose up.

“I’m having trouble with something that is going to be useless in my adult life.” Nicky says as if he were not currently an adult. “You are having issues with a class that will have huge ramifications on your future if you don’t manage to learn it!” Nicky points out.

“Eat my shorts Nicky.” Aaron hisses.

“Maybe I could study if you would wash your shorts Aaron. I can smell your laundry pile from over here!” Matt spits.

The fight devolved from there and FF slipped out of the dorm as Nicky was holding a chair over his head to seemingly throw at Matt for his ‘unreasonable number of sticky notes messing up the flow of Nicky’s studying’.

He heard a crash.

“It’s probably fine.” he says to himself and he has his index cards with the speech he has to give for and he really should go over to talk with Captain Neil.

He walks to Captain Neil, Andrew, and Kevin’s door and- “There faster-!”

FF walks away from Captain Neil, Andrew, and Kevin’s door, remembering only in this moment that Kevin had declared that he would be “Living in the library until this paper is done or I am.” to the team at the last practice of the year.

Captain Neil and Andrew were never the type to waste an empty dorm room.

He misses Pepto Bismol as he hears a particularly dirty line of Russian coming from his Captain’s dorm room.

***

Eventually Finals week is done and dusted with only 4-5 more blow-ups in his dorm room that result in Nicky, Aaron, and Matt stopping their fight to see if they accidentally had knocked him out with all of the thrown debris (only happened once when Aaron threw a textbook that Nicky ducked but he didn’t.)

FF came out of his final…final feeling pretty good all around. He had managed to get some extra tutoring time with Captain Neil after Kevin managed to finish his history paper a little early. Despite all of their fears and complaints Aaron, Nicky, and Matt all did manage to pass all of their finals and their classes.

The Tower was closing tomorrow for the rest of the year and despite checking almost every day with Nicky he still was invited to go to New York City with most of the team to stay at Allison’s house.

“Smithy, did you pack a swimsuit?” Nicky asks.

“Nicky, we’re going to New York for Christmas break. Do you think we’re going to swim?” Aaron asks incredulously.

“Two words, my fetus of a cousin: Hot. Tub.” Nicky holds his hand up and putting one finger up and then another. “Is hot tub two words?” Matt asks as he reaches for his own swim trunks.

“Yes Matt hot tub is two words.” FF says nodding.

“Thank you Smithster.” Matt says.

“I can’t believe you don’t know that hot tub is two words.” Aaron says with a huff.

“I can’t believe that you don’t know how to not be an asshole even after you started getting regular sex with Katelyn.” Matt returns, “Look at how not a thing that was when Smithster answered it.” he gestures to FF.

“You cannot compare Smithy to Aaron. Apples and Tomatoes.” Nicky dismisses.

“Whatever, so Allison got a hot tub at her place?” Aaron moves past the conversation.

“Aaron you just made fun of Matt for asking stupid questions.” Nicky says with a hand on his cheek.

“I fucking hate being part of your family.” Aaron says without any real heat.

“Yeah sure.” Nicky says, rolling his eyes and smiling as he saw Aaron packing swim trunks that FF knew he had bought for his cousin.

“Okay, I’ve got the packing list that Allison sent. Do we wanna run through it so that we’re all properly packed?” Matt says holding up his phone.

“Yeah, let’s run through it.” Nicky says with a sigh.

They went through Allison’s provided list twice and then zipped up their suitcases. Smith was going to be driving to the airport with Matt. Neil and Andrew were going to be driving the Maserati up alone while the rest of them were going to be flying up to New York City.

Now onto something that filled FF with far more dread than simply passing tests that determined whether or not he continued to get a free ride in college.

Meeting new people.

NEXT >>

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

[dkaymiscellaneous]

[mariacallous]

The first thing to say about the hate and scorn currently directed at the mainstream US media is that they worked hard to earn it. They’ve done so by failing, repeatedly, determinedly, spectacularly to do their job, which is to maintain their independence, inform the electorate, and speak truth to power. While the left has long had reasons to dismiss centrist media, and the right has loathed it most when it did do its job well, the moderates who are furious at it now seem to be something new – and a host of former editors, media experts and independent journalists have been going after them hard this summer.

Longtime journalist James Fallows declares that three institutions – the Republican party, the supreme court, and the mainstream political press – “have catastrophically failed to ‘meet the moment’ under pressure of [the] Trump era”. Centrist political reformer and columnist Norm Ornstein states that these news institutions “have had no reflection, no willingness to think through how irresponsible and reckless so much of our mainstream press and so many of our journalists have been and continue to be”.

Most voters, he says, “have no clue what a second Trump term would actually be like. Instead, we get the same insipid focus on the horse race and the polls, while normalizing abnormal behavior and treating this like a typical presidential election, not one that is an existential threat to democracy.”

Lamenting the state of the media recently on X, Jeff Jarvis, another former editor and newspaper columnist, said: “What ‘press’? The broken and vindictive Times? The newly Murdochian Post? Hedge-fund newspaper husks? Rudderless CNN or NPR? Murdoch’s fascist media?”

These critics are responding to how the behemoths of the industry seem intent on bending the facts to fit their frameworks and agendas. In pursuit of clickbait content centered on conflicts and personalities, they follow each other into informational stampedes and confirmation bubbles.

They pursue the appearance of fairness and balance by treating the true and the false, the normal and the outrageous, as equally valid and by normalizing Republicans, especially Donald Trump, whose gibberish gets translated into English and whose past crimes and present-day lies and threats get glossed over. They neglect, again and again, important stories with real consequences. This is not entirely new – in a scathing analysis of 2016 election coverage, the Columbia Journalism Review noted that “in just six days, The New York Times ran as many cover stories about Hillary Clinton’s emails as they did about all policy issues combined in the 69 days leading up to the election” – but it’s gotten worse, and a lot of insiders have gotten sick of it.

In July, ordinary people on social media decided to share information about the rightwing Project 2025 and did a superb job of raising public awareness about it, while the press obsessed about Joe Biden’s age and health. NBC did report on this grassroots education effort, but did so using the “both sides are equally valid” framework often deployed by mainstream media, saying the agenda is “championed by some creators as a guide to less government oversight and slammed by others as a road map to an authoritarian takeover of America”. There is no valid case it brings less government oversight.

In an even more outrageous case, the New York Times ran a story comparing the Democratic and Republican plans to increase the housing supply – which treated Trump’s plans for mass deportation of undocumented immigrants as just another housing-supply strategy that might work or might not. (That it would create massive human rights violations and likely lead to huge civil disturbances was one overlooked factor, though the fact that some of these immigrants are key to the building trades was mentioned.)

Other stories of pressing concern are either picked up and dropped or just neglected overall, as with Trump’s threats to dismantle a huge portion of the climate legislation that is both the Biden administration’s signal achievement and crucial for the fate of the planet. The Washington Post editorial board did offer this risibly feeble critique on 17 August: “It would no doubt be better for the climate if the US president acknowledged the reality of global warming – rather than calling it a scam, as Mr Trump has.”

While the press blamed Biden for failing to communicate his achievements, which is part of his job, it’s their whole job to do so. The Climate Jobs National Resource Center reports that the Inflation Reduction Act has created “a combined potential of over $2tn in investment, 1,091,966 megawatts of clean power, and approximately 3,947,670 jobs”, but few Americans have any sense of what the bill has achieved or even that the economy is by many measures strong.

Last winter, the New York Times columnist Paul Krugman, who has a Nobel prize in economics, told Greg Sargent on the latter’s Daily Blast podcast that when he writes positive pieces about the Biden economy, his editor asks “don’t you want to qualify” it; “aren’t people upset by X, Y and Z and shouldn’t you be acknowledging that?”

Meanwhile in an accusatory piece about Kamala Harris headlined When your opponent calls you ‘communist,’ maybe don’t propose price controls?, a Washington Post columnist declares in another case of bothsiderism: “Voters want to blame someone for high grocery bills, and the presidential candidates have apparently decided the choices are either the Biden administration or corporate greed. Harris has chosen the latter.” The evidence that corporations have jacked up prices and are reaping huge profits is easy to find, but facts don’t matter much in this kind of opining.

It’s hard to gloat over the decline of these dinosaurs of American media, when a free press and a well-informed electorate are both crucial to democracy. The alternatives to the major news outlets simply don’t reach enough readers and listeners, though the non-profit investigative outfit ProPublica and progressive magazines such as the New Republic and Mother Jones, are doing a lot of the best reporting and commentary.

Earlier this year, when Alabama senator Katie Britt gave her loopy rebuttal to Biden’s State of the Union address, it was an independent journalist, Jonathan Katz, who broke the story on TikTok that her claims about a victim of sex trafficking contained significant falsehoods. The big news outlets picked up the scoop from him, making me wonder what their staffs of hundreds were doing that night.

A host of brilliant journalists young and old, have started independent newsletters, covering tech, the state of the media, politics, climate, reproductive rights and virtually everything else, but their reach is too modest to make them a replacement for the big newspapers and networks. The great exception might be historian Heather Cox Richardson, whose newsletter and Facebook followers give her a readership not much smaller than that of the Washington Post. The tremendous success of her sober, historically grounded (and footnoted!) news summaries and reflections bespeaks a hunger for real news.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mad Season 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

Note: yes I'm being irresponsible.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

‘So sorry I’m running behind. May forgot her wallet’. You reread Peter’s message for the fifth time and check the time under the bubble. More than forty minutes ago. He has to be close. 

You thought of checking but you don’t want to pressure him. Besides, he is doing a favour by bringing you to Stark Tower to let you use the space with him. You turn and pace along the wall, out of the way of the New York pedestrians who wouldn’t even notice if you got underfoot. 

You thought of waiting in the lobby but that’s too much. You focus on breathing. You feel alright for the moment, but a few times, you’ve reached for your inhaler just out of habit.  

“Hey,” a voice draws you out of your mounting anxiety, bringing you back down to just above neutral. “Door’s open, you know?” 

You face Bucky as he holds open of the many glass doors. 

You nod and teeter on your heels. “I know, sir. Just waiting.” 

“Bucky,” he corrects you. Like last time. Oops. “Waiting on the kid?” You gesture affirmatively again. He waves you over casually with a gloved hand, “come on. I can get ya into the lab.” 

“Mm, ahem,” you clear your throat, it’s getting tight. You get closer as the noise of the street makes it hard to hear your own thoughts. “That’s nice but I said I’d wait here.” 

“Busy,” he comments and his eyes roll around derisively. “Should be out here on the street. Let the kid know you’ll be upstairs.” 

There’s no arguing with him, not that you would ever dare. You’re not afraid of him. Maybe intimidated but who doesn’t make you feel small. No, he’s Bucky Barnes, an Avenger. You have no ground to tell him no. Besides, he’s being nice even if his tone remains mostly indifferent. 

“Thanks, s—Bucky,” you muster a tight-lipped smile. 

He holds the door and you flit in ahead of him, your wool jacket flapping and brushing against him. He follows. You hurry ahead then stop short as you realise you don’t know where you going. As you do, a man in a suit huffs and nearly knocks you over with his arm. 

“Watch it, little girl.” He sneers. 

“Hey,” Bucky catches him by his tie, “what’d you say to the lady?” 

You spin around in shock, rubbing your arm at the suddenness of it all. 

“N-nothing, I--” the man blinks in fear. “Nothing, she just got in my way.” 

“You knocked into her and you can’t say sorry?” Bucky pulls him closer, glaring at him with a furrow of his nose. 

“N-no,” the man shows his palms, “no.” 

“Look at her. She’s half your size, pal. You think she could hurt you?” 

“No, no, look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” The man sputters. 

“Not to me,” Bucky slides his hand down the man’s tie and pulls him like a dog on a leash toward you, “her.” 

The man blanches and gulp, “look, miss, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you. I shouldn’t have... I should look where I’m going.” 

“Good boy,” Bucky’s snarl comes close to a smirk as he lets the man go and taps his cheek lightly. “Go.” 

He shoves the man by the shoulder and you bat your eyes dumbly. You watch him go as Bucky looms close. You look at him and reach for your bag. You unzip the pouch at the end of the thin strap and pull out your inhaler. You take a puff. 

His expression softens, “oh, is that me?” 

You shake your head, “too many people.” 

“Ah, right,” he points toward the elevators. 

You follow him as he bulldozes through the bodies and pushes the button. You stop beside him and fidget with your inhaler. You peek over at him again. He looks down at you and you wince. 

“Sorry... I...” 

“People usually only stare when I got the arm out,” he shrugs. “I got something on my face? Damn beard catches.”  

Brushes his fingers over the thicket of hair across his jaw. You shake your head again. 

“S-sorry. I... I...” you sniff as the doors open and he beckons you ahead of him. You scurry on and he follows as a slow pace. He spins and jabs the buttons.  

“Thanks for... for helping.” 

“Not at all,” he says. Silence rises with the elevator. He coughs. “You know, I had a buddy with ashthma. Still my buddy but he don’t got the asthma no more.”  

He snorts. You mull his words. You think know who he means.  

“The stuff or whatever... got rid of it?” You ask meekly. 

“Yeah, the stuff. Serum. Poison,” he scoffs. 

“Oh,” you hum. 

“Guess I take it for granted. Never had to worry about much of the being sick part. Sister did. Yeah, she used to always have something,” he clicks his tongue. “Tell me when to shut up.” 

“No, no, I wouldn’t... wouldn’t ever,” you stutter. 

Another lulls fills the elevator as it opens, but the tension remains trapped inside. He points you out first and waits to trail after you. You come out onto the floor. You vaguely recognise some of the acrylic decor and the stiff looking chairs but you don’t know where to go. 

“Left,” he directs you with a gentle caress down your sleeve. “Easy to get lost when you don’t waste your life here." 

You let him guide you. You’d lose yourself without him. It’s exactly why you’d been out on the street.  

That reminds you of Peter. You reach for your bag again and pull out your phone. You check for a message. 

“Kid standing a nice gal like you up?” He asks. 

You flinch, “uh, no, his aunt... there was an emergency.” 

“More important than you, huh?” He pivots and presses his finger to the keypad. The door opens. 

“I don’t... I don’t know. It’s not a big deal.” 

He looks at you, his eyes narrowing, “you’re not a big deal?” 

“No, waiting isn’t... isn’t that bad,” you stammer. “Uh, thanks, again.” 

“Well, you know, in my day, we treated ladies with respect. Let me know if the kid needs a lesson or two,” he taps the doorframe. “I’ll check in, just in case.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I know I don’t,” he says. “Go on,” he nods through the door. 

You don’t hesitate. You enter the lab with another thanks, eager to have some time to yourself. You go to the table and untangle your knapsack. You look back just as the door starts to slide shut. You only get a glimpse of his eyes before he’s blocked out by the metal barrier. You can feel his gaze staining you. 

You know it must be all in your head but he is so intense. Not as angry as last time but still... a lot. 

[zvaigzdelasas]

The Onondaga claim that the United States violated a 1794 treaty, signed by George Washington, that guaranteed 2.5 million acres in central New York to them. The case, filed in 2014, is the second brought by an American Indian nation against the United States in an international human rights body; a finding is expected as soon as this year.

Even if the Onondaga are successful, the result will mostly be symbolic. The entity, the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, has no power to enforce a finding or settlement, and the United States has said that it does not consider the commission’s recommendations to be binding.

“We could win against them, but that doesn’t mean that they have to abide by whatever,” Mr. Hill said in an interview.

The 2.5 million acres have long since been transformed by highways and utility lines, shopping malls, universities, airports and roller rinks.

The territory encompasses the cities of Binghamton and Syracuse, as well as more than 30 state forests, dozens of lakes and countless streams and tributaries. It is also home to 24 Superfund sites, the environmental detritus of the powerhouse economy that helped central New York thrive during the beginning and middle half of the 20th century.

Most notorious of these is Lake Onondaga, which once held the dubious title of America’s most polluted lake.

Industrial waste has left its mark on Onondaga territory, leaving the nation unable to fish from its streams and rivers. The history of environmental degradation is part of what motivates the Onondaga, who consider it their sacred responsibility to protect their land.

One of their chief objectives in filing the petition is a seat at the table on environmental decisions across the original territory. The other is an acknowledgment that New York, even if only in principle, owes them 2.5 million acres.[...]

Some Native nations have been willing to drop land claims in exchange for licenses to operate casinos. But the Onondaga say they are not interested in cash. Nor are they interested in licenses to sell cannabis or operate a casino — which they consider socially irresponsible and a threat to their tribal sovereignty.

There’s really just one thing that Mr. Hill says would be an acceptable form of payment: land.

The Onondaga insist they are not looking to displace anyone. Instead they hope the state might turn over a tract of unspoiled land for the nation to hunt, fish, preserve or develop as it sees fit. One such repatriation effort is underway: the return of 1,000 acres as a part of a federal settlement with Honeywell International for the contamination of Onondaga Lake. The United States has not contested the Onondaga's account of how the nation lost its land. Indeed, the lawyers representing the United States in the Onondaga case have centered their argument on legal precedence, noting that courts at every level — including the U.S. Supreme Court — rejected the Onondaga’s claims as too old and most remedies too disruptive to the region’s current inhabitants.

To the Onondaga, the logic required to square these contentions seems unfair. Why should the United States be allowed to steal their land and face no obligation to give some back?[...]

In New York, [...] Native people were not considered to have standing to sue on their own behalf until 1987.[...]

In 2005, the Onondaga filed a version of their current claim in Federal District Court in the Northern District of New York, naming as defendants the State of New York, its governor, Onondaga County, the City of Syracuse and a handful of the companies responsible for the environmental degradation over the past centuries. A similar case filed by the Oneida Nation was, at the time, pending before the Supreme Court.

But just 18 days after the Onondaga filed their petition, the Supreme Court rejected the Oneidas’ case. The decision referenced an colonial-era legal theory known as the Doctrine of Discovery, which holds in part that Indigenous property claims were nullified by the “discovery” of that land by Christians.

The “long lapse of time” and “the attendant dramatic changes in the character” precluded the Oneida nation from the “disruptive remedy” it sought, Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg wrote in the majority decision.[...]

[L]awyers for the Onondaga used the rejection as the premise for a new argument. They contended that the U.S. court system’s refusal to find in their favor proved that they could not find justice in the United States.

The petition filed before the international commission amounts to the most direct challenge of the United States’ treatment of Indigenous people to date in terms of human rights — and the first to apply the lens of colonialism.

“What the Onondaga litigation is doing right now is to force a political dialogue with the colonial occupier,” said Andrew Reid, a lawyer representing the Onondaga, adding that a favorable finding could prompt a political conversation about the United States’s treatment of native people on the world stage.

Representatives for the State Department declined to be interviewed and did not respond to requests for comment. But in legal documents, the United States contended that the Onondaga’s central claims have been rejected in prior cases; that they have had “abundant opportunity” for their case to be heard; and that they are merely unhappy with the outcome. It also contended that the commission has no jurisdiction, given that the bulk of the nation’s losses took place two centuries before it was established.

“The judicial process functioned as it should have in this matter,” the United States wrote in legal papers.

15 Mar 24

[tamayula-hl]

I have illustrated many Dad!Ominis, but as I have not yet published my headcanon on DadOmi, I would like to explain it in drawing and text because I am not good at English😳

In my headcanon, Ominis discussed this with his girlfriend, MC, while he was still at school, and they chose to drop the Gaunt name and elope together. The pair jumped ship on a steamer to the USA soon after graduation. As you know, the Gaunt family has ties to the USA, as the mother of the founder of the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the USA was born a Gaunt, and there is a Slytherin wand buried in the garden of that school.

(This is an illustration of that scene that I posted on Twitter in May, but there are lots of things I want to correct 😂)

They then started a new life together in the USA, where Ominis was lucky enough to get a job as an employee at MACUSA, which had just moved to New York and was short-staffed. (I have no idea of the details of how Ominis, under a pseudonym that presumably hides his Gaunt family origins, was hired as a permanent employee, and whether his obvious posh English could hide his identity in the US. Never mind the details!🤣)

And secondly, how Ominis became a father in the place where he eloped. In my personal opinion, he would surely be reluctant to leave offspring, even if he became a couple with the woman he loved. A witch named Rionach Steward, daughter of the founder of Ilvermorny School, has become so thick with Gaunt blood that she is rumoured to be a Parselmouth. She remained celibate for the rest of her life in order not to leave her cursed blood to future generations. Ominis is very serious and thoughtful and, like Rionach, would not want to leave the Gaunt blood flowing in his body to future generations.

Where Rionach and Ominis differ, however, is that he is a man. If Ominis were heterosexual and had a healthy body, it would be difficult for him to completely abstain from sexual desire for women. (As an aside, I think this dichotomy is the spice that makes Ominis' smut more attractive.)

Two young, loving people who are financially strapped and starved for entertainment are sure to indulge their carnal desires. Soon, they find out that MC is pregnant.

In other words, in my headcanon, ominis become fathers for the pathetic reason of contraceptive failure. I guess there are two sides to this, but of course I am convinced that Ominis is not the kind of irresponsible man who would run away from an unwanted pregnancy. Ominis will be very bewildered, but he will be cheerful in front of his pregnant wife and will support her with dedication, as in the manga and illustrations I posted the other day! During MC's pregnancy, Ominis will be repeatedly struck with anxiety, but as he sees his wife's belly growing bigger day by day, he will gradually develop paternal feelings for her. And after the birth of his first child, when he holds his baby for the first time, Ominis will be moved by the preciousness of the creature in his arms and the weight of life, and he will awaken as the best dad…!

I hope that Ominis, who became a father after unexpected events in his elopement, lives happily ever after, chewing on how precious a healthy family is😍.

Of course, it's all my headcanon, so I like different people's different ideas about Ominis' future! Anyway, I am happy as long as I see Ominis living a long and happy life..!

Thank you for reading my long story 🫶🫶🫶

A Japanese translation of the text is placed in undercut. (ほぼTwitterで書き散らかしていた妄想をまと���たものです。画像内の文章を和訳する元気はありませんでしたすみません…😂)

（機械翻訳にブチ込む用に書いた文章なので、ちょっと変ですがご容赦ください🙏）

私の脳内設定（headcanon）では、オミニスは在学中にガールフレンドであるMCと話し合って、Gauntの名を捨て、二人で駆け落ちすることを選びました。 二人は卒業してすぐにアメリカ行きの蒸気船に飛び乗りま��た。

その後二人はアメリカで新生活を始め、ニューヨークに移転したばかりで人手不足のMACUSAでオミニスは運良く職員としての仕事を手に入れました。 （おそらくGaunt家出身であることを隠している偽名のオミニスがどのように正社員として採用されたか、また、明らかなposh Englishを話す彼がアメリカで素性を隠しきれるかどうかについては、私は細かいことは全く考えていません。こまけえこたぁいいんだよ！）

ご存知の通り、アメリカのIlvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardryの創始者の母はゴーント家の生まれで、その学校の庭にはスリザリンの杖が埋まっているなど、Gaunt家とアメリカには縁があります

そして次に、駆け落ち先でオミニスがどのようにして父親になっていったかです。 私の個人的な意見ですが、彼はきっと愛する女性と夫婦になっても、子孫を残すことを嫌がるでしょう。 Ilvermorny Schoolの創設者の娘のRionach Stewardという魔女はParselmouthという噂があるほどGauntの血を濃く継いでしまいました。彼女は呪われた血を後世に残さないために生涯独身を貫いた。 オミニスはとても真面目で思慮深い性格なので、Rionachと同じように、彼の身体の中に流れるGauntの血を後世に残したくないと思うでしょう。

しかしRionachとオミニスが違うところは、彼が男性ということです。 Ominisが異性愛者で健康的な身体を持っていれば、女性に対する性欲を完全に断つというのは困難でしょう。 （余談ですが、この二律背反こそ、オミニスのsmutをより魅力的にさせるスパイスだと私は思います）

金銭的な余裕もなく娯楽に飢えた、若い愛し合う二人は、きっと肉欲に溺れるはずです。 そして間もなく、MCの妊娠が判明するのです。

つまり私のheadcanonでは、オミニスは避妊失敗という情けない理由で父親になります。 これについては賛否両論かと思いますが、もちろん、オミニスは望まぬ妊娠から逃げ出すような無責任な男ではないと私は確信しています。 オミニスは非常に困惑しながらも、妊娠中の妻の前では明るく振舞い、先日投稿したmangaやイラストのように献身的に彼女をサポートするでしょう！ MCの妊娠期間中、オミニスは何度も不安に襲われるでしょうが、日に日に大きくなる妻のお腹を見ていくうちに少しずつ父性が芽生える。 そして第一子が誕生後、初めて赤ちゃんを抱いた時に、オミニスは腕の中にある生き物の尊さと命の重みに感動し���最高のパパとして覚醒するのです…！！

駆け落ち先の予想外の出来事から父親になったOminisが、健全な家族がどれほど尊いものかを噛み締めて幸せに生きていてくれればと思います😍

もちろん、全て私のheadcanonなので、オミニスの将来については、色んな人の色んな考えも好きです！ とにかく私は、幸せに長生きしているオミニスが見れればそれで幸せなのです…！

長い文を読んでくれてありがとうございました🫶🫶🫶

[contemplatingoutlander]

Given what recently happened with the billionaire owners of The Washington Post and the Los Angeles Times preventing their editorial boards from endorsing Harris for president, it seems this excellent column by The Guardian's Rebecca Solnit is quite appropriate. Here are some excerpts:

The first thing to say about the hate and scorn currently directed at the mainstream US media is that they worked hard to earn it. They’ve done so by failing, repeatedly, determinedly, spectacularly to do their job, which is to maintain their independence, inform the electorate, and speak truth to power. While the left has long had reasons to dismiss centrist media, and the right has loathed it most when it did do its job well, the moderates who are furious at it now seem to be something new – and a host of former editors, media experts and independent journalists have been going after them hard this summer. Longtime journalist James Fallows declares that three institutions – the Republican party, the supreme court, and the mainstream political press – “have catastrophically failed to ‘meet the moment’ under pressure of [the] Trump era”. Centrist political reformer and columnist Norm Ornstein states that these news institutions “have had no reflection, no willingness to think through how irresponsible and reckless so much of our mainstream press and so many of our journalists have been and continue to be”. Most voters, he says, “have no clue what a second Trump term would actually be like. Instead, we get the same insipid focus on the horse race and the polls, while normalizing abnormal behavior and treating this like a typical presidential election, not one that is an existential threat to democracy.” Lamenting the state of the media recently on X, Jeff Jarvis, another former editor and newspaper columnist, said: “What ‘press’? The broken and vindictive Times? The newly Murdochian Post? Hedge-fund newspaper husks? Rudderless CNN or NPR? Murdoch’s fascist media?”

[See more excerpts under the cut.]

[...] They pursue the appearance of fairness and balance by treating the true and the false, the normal and the outrageous, as equally valid and by normalizing Republicans, especially Donald Trump, whose gibberish gets translated into English and whose past crimes and present-day lies and threats get glossed over. They neglect, again and again, important stories with real consequences. This is not entirely new – in a scathing analysis of 2016 election coverage, the Columbia Journalism Review noted that “in just six days, The New York Times ran as many cover stories about Hillary Clinton’s emails as they did about all policy issues combined in the 69 days leading up to the election” – but it’s gotten worse, and a lot of insiders have gotten sick of it. In July, ordinary people on social media decided to share information about the rightwing Project 2025 and did a superb job of raising public awareness about it, while the press obsessed about Joe Biden’s age and health. NBC did report on this grassroots education effort, but did so using the “both sides are equally valid” framework often deployed by mainstream media, saying the agenda is “championed by some creators as a guide to less government oversight and slammed by others as a road map to an authoritarian takeover of America”. There is no valid case it brings less government oversight. [...] Last winter, the New York Times columnist Paul Krugman, who has a Nobel prize in economics, told Greg Sargent on the latter’s Daily Blast podcast that when he writes positive pieces about the Biden economy, his editor asks “don’t you want to qualify” it; “aren’t people upset by X, Y and Z and shouldn’t you be acknowledging that?” [...] It’s hard to gloat over the decline of these dinosaurs of American media, when a free press and a well-informed electorate are both crucial to democracy. The alternatives to the major news outlets simply don’t reach enough readers and listeners, though the non-profit investigative outfit ProPublica and progressive magazines such as the New Republic and Mother Jones, are doing a lot of the best reporting and commentary. [...] A host of brilliant journalists young and old, have started independent newsletters, covering tech, the state of the media, politics, climate, reproductive rights and virtually everything else, but their reach is too modest to make them a replacement for the big newspapers and networks. The great exception might be historian Heather Cox Richardson, whose newsletter and Facebook followers give her a readership not much smaller than that of the Washington Post. The tremendous success of her sober, historically grounded (and footnoted!) news summaries and reflections bespeaks a hunger for real news.

[pearlfeline]

a peter parker halloween

peter parker x spider!fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i quite like this actually lol this is the first thing i’ve written where i think i ended things quite organically however since i like it so much please let me know if you’d like a part two because i’m willing to try but also would like some ideas! thanks for reading! happy halloween!!

Like many, Peter enjoys Halloween. The problem is, Spider-Man does not. He liked it at first. All the cute kids dressing as him and how proud it made him. Nowadays, his costume is so mass produced that there’s people in the subway wearing his face with no pants on.

Patrolling on Halloween kind of felt like he was being mocked. Also wearing what he would consider his uniform on a day where he’s supposed to literally wear anything else wasn’t as exciting.

Peter’s schedule was always scattered but never to his disadvantage. He could afford to be spontaneous by getting slammed by a bus and make it to class in twenty minutes.

This Halloween night, he had gotten his classes out of the way, finished his extra-curriculars, and submitted all his homework right before it was time for his nightly sweep across New York.

Peter reached his front door, weakly shoving his key in spots that weren’t the keyhole.

You hear his keys jingle and rush to the door, unlocking it yourself.

“There he is!” You teased. “Happy Halloween! Who are you dressed as? Percy Jackson?”

Peter smiles tiredly. “Thanks for cleaning my room but you really didn’t have to.”

“Well it would've been mostly for May, considering she’s picked up after you for years.”

Peter sheepishly picks up his backpack that he tossed on the floor.

He notices you brought your Adventure Time blanket and draped it over the couch. There was fresh popcorn and you left your stuffed turtle posed to look like he was eating from the bowl.

“What’s this stuff?” Peter didn’t wait for a response but rather walked to his room to suit up for the night.

You waited for him to come back to the living room before giving him an answer.

“It’s a set up. For a lazy Halloween night in watching scary movies.”

“Lucky you.” He chuckled.

“No. Lucky you.” You corrected, grabbing his suit from over his shoulder.

“Since I know how you usually get worried on Halloween because people like to be irresponsible and sometimes just plain evil, I thought maybe I could give you the night off.” You tug on the collar on your shirt, exposing your suit underneath.

Peter gives you an incredulous look.

“Oh and the room cleaning thing wasn’t real I hope you know. White lie.” You added.

“..Yeah it’s still kinda messy in there.” Peter scratched the back of his neck.

“Understatement of the year.” You mumbled.

“Y/N.. I can’t just let you go do that alone if anything I’ll come with you.” Peter reaches for his mask in your hand.

You groaned.

“Stop being selfless just for tonight.” You pleaded with your eyes. “I can handle this! I’m just as cool and possibly cooler than you!”

“Fine.” Peter hangs his head and made his way to the couch.

“Hell yeah. Okay, I left a sandwich in the fridge that I picked up before I got here. Soooo have fun with that and enjoy your movie.” You pull off your shirt and pants and shoved them in your bag.

Peter gives an appreciative smile, watching you pull your mask over your face and leap out of his fire escape.

What you did was a very sweet thing. Peter was finally able to do something Halloweeny on Halloween. He picked out a few movies to watch in order, but two movies in he was hyper aware he was alone in a dark apartment. Excluding the stuffed turtle he was talking to.

“The CGI sucks.” He muttered, squishing the turtle close to his face, his eyes locked onto the screen.

What if he saw a scary figure in the dark? And if he got up to get the light would it move and attack him? Would he see something he doesn’t want to?

He peered over the couch to stare at the darkness in every corner of the dimly lit living room.

Peter cautiously paused the movie and quickly climbed onto the wall, scattering to the light switch before flicking it on.

He landed back on his feet and still felt upset.

Not only was being alone scary but even if it wasn’t it was just sad. He could’ve complained about the bad CGI to you instead of that little turtle.

You handled your patrol pretty well. Not much was happening except one little kid got separated from his group and didn’t want to walk back home alone. He gave you a piece of candy as a thank you.

As you sat on the edge of a building, you took a bite of your sandwich you packed for the night, watching the busy streets below.

Swoosh. A figure lands behind you and sets your stuffed turtle next to you.

“Timmy? Peter why are you here?” You were muffled by bread in your mouth.

Peter sat beside you and unwrapped his sandwich.

You tuck the turtle in your arms so he doesn’t fall off the ledge and give Peter a look.

“It’s… lonely back there. Plus, I got all the Halloween celebration I needed. I’m ready to get back at it now.”

You stare at Peter with a suspicious expression.

“You can just say the movie scared you.” You took another bite and swung your feet.

“C’mon can’t I just help you? I thought I was selfless?” He smirked proudly.

“You would never leave Timmy Turtle to fend for himself in a paranormal situation! You brought him because you’re scared of the monsters!” You pointed an accusing finger at him.

Peter lifts his mask up half way, taking a bite of his sandwich to avoid confrontation.

“It wasn’t a monster it was a spirit out for revenge.” He sighed.

“Mhm.” You rolled your eyes.

“Busy night?” He asked.

You shake your head. “Oh, but this kid gave me a KitKat.” You dig in your bag to find it.

“Dessert.” You tap it on your temple like you were being clever.

Eventually, you both finish your sandwiches and split the chocolate.

“Is this gonna be a lesson later about how I don’t need to patrol every Halloween night like this?”Peter crosses his legs and accepts his fate.

You shake your head. “No. I mean, you shouldn’t be overworking yourself like that. But, if no one was here tonight, that kid would be going home alone and probably super scared.”

“And that’s the best case scenario, you never know what’ll happen.” You added.

You jokingly punch Peter in the in the shoulder. “You’re a hero Peter. I just thought you needed some rest.”

“Thanks Y/N.” He chomps on his half of the KitKat and leans back, the palms of his hands supporting his weight.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed.

“I should let you go out more often. It’s not that I don’t trust you I just…” Peter trailed off.

“I don’t want you to get hurt is all.” Peter turns to you.

You shrug. “That’s part of the job. But yeah I understand.”

“Though, I’m not opposed to helping you out more. The kid that I helped today called me spider sidekick.”

Peter snorts. “He’s not far off.” Peter pretends to stretch and flexes his muscles very unsubtly.

“Uh, I prefer apprentice and hopefully later on, partner.” You regret your choice of words as soon as ‘partner’ came out of your mouth.

Peter’s grin twitches a little, giving a small opened mouth smile that screamed “No, it’s okay I know what you meant. Don’t be embarrassed. Let’s pretend that never happened!”

Instead, he gives a small laugh.

“You’re already a great partner.”

You give Peter a short glance. That damn mask. What does that mean? Those dumb bug eyes were unreadable. The only thing you could see was his smile.

“A-Am I getting promoted?” You joked.

Peter takes his mask off. There they are. His eyes.

Were you crazy or was he being really forward all of the sudden?

“Truthfully Y/N, you’ve proven yourself a long time ago. You’re just as selfless as you think I am. I just needed to make sure… Even if that meant stalling the inevitable.” Peter takes a dig at himself.

“You’re pretty much faster than me at this rate, but stronger? Eh, I dunno.” He teases.

“I’m sorry I was being stubborn. You’ve been a partner for a long time. Training is officially over since tonight.”

Your heart sinks a little. Of course. He was just talking about work. Peter never flirts with you, he’s never done that before. Plus, this is a serious thing it’s never about flirting.

“Thanks Peter. You’re a real good mentor.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “Man, I thought you’d be more excited.”

“No! No. I am excited it’s just.. It’s nice to hear you care about my safety and all that. Nice that you trust me with sharing this… duty.” You clear your throat.

Peter nods, satisfied.

“It’s hard.” He repositions to sit crisscrossed.

“But I know you can do it. And… sorry for making you go out here when it’s nothing happened. I swear I trust you to do the crazy dangerous things too.”

You nodded. “I know. But you didn’t make me do anything. This was just a favor I wanted to do for you.”

“Happy Halloween.” You smiled.

“Happy Halloween Y/N.” Peter returns the smile. He knew this whole thing was a lot for you to adjust to. The silence he created was nice. Not awkward like it used to be. He watched as you curiously peer over the busy street in fascination. He thinks to himself that every night is going to be like this for you from now on. Like it was for him. Maybe the company would do him some good.

[hard-core-super-star]

bleeding me dry like a goddamn vampire [K.Bishop]

pairing: vampire!kate bishop x reader

summary: a failed mugging leads to you discovering kate's biggest secret...and her finding out yours.

warnings: yes, i still suck at summaries, shhh SMUT -> minors, you know the drill, walk away now [porn with almost too much plot; blood and fangs and all the stereotypically hot vampire things; so many neck kisses it should be illegal; fingering {R receiving}; kate being a tease and owning it; praise + degradation + two seconds of humiliation]

wordcount: 3.3k

a/n: do i have like ten requests sitting in my inbox rn? yes. was this idea going to leave me alone if i didn't write it? no. i've been trying to finish this fic since JULY, GUYS, AND I NEED IT OUT OF MY DRAFTS AND INTO THE WORLD! it wasn't supposed to be smut, but i couldn't help it. i don't think i'll have time to do any real kinktober-type fics so enjoy this little treat instead. ALSO, a lot of the vampire dynamics/lore in this fic was inspired by first kill so go check it out if you haven't seen it.

part two | part three | part four

* * * * * * *

You were working yet another late night at Bishop Security. A normal occurrence considering your boss’s distaste for coming into the office when the sun is high in the sky. She almost never comes in before 3 PM and almost always stays in until way past midnight.

Pretty much everyone who works for her hates her unusual schedule, claiming she’s way too new to her position to be slacking off so much. Everyone seems to share that view…everyone except you since being her secretary means you get to share her schedule.

Which conveniently means you get to sleep in most days.

She’s never offered an explanation, not that you’ve ever tried asking her about it, but the rumor swirling around is that she’s too busy partying and sleeping around to bother showing up at the office at a regular time.

You don’t doubt the validity of that rumor but you’re also sure it’s not the whole story. There have been times when Kate has forced you to leave at 2 AM while she’s stayed behind to write up a report or prepare for her next meeting.

She’s young and reckless and way too rich for her own good but she’s not completely irresponsible or arrogant. Unfortunately, the media loves making up stories about the ‘Tony Stark of Bishop Security’ almost as much as your co-workers love gossiping.

Maybe if those rumors held more truth to them you wouldn’t be where you are right now: speed-walking out of the building and trying to make it to your car before something bad happens. You’re aware of the irony of working at a security company yet being terrified of walking through the parking lot. But hey! It’s New York City, your fears are more than valid.

You’re too busy arguing with yourself about said irony to notice the person sneaking up behind you until they forcefully grab your shoulder and slam you into the nearest concrete wall. The force of the push forces all the air out of your lungs, leaving you unprepared for the right hook your attacker throws your way.

The ringing in your ears is the only thing you can focus on for a few seconds. You see their mouth moving and you’re barely able to make out the name ‘Kate Bishop’ before they raise their fist again. You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the punch to land.

Except it never does.

Your eyes snap open right as your shoulders are grabbed again but this time, the person standing in front of you is none other than Kate Bishop herself. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. Just focus on me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You’re pretty sure the pounding in your chest has more to do with the proximity between the two of you than your leftover fear after being attacked. “I just got pushed around a little.”

“More like punched around,” she says with a small chuckle.

“That’s not funny.” Despite your words, a noticeable smile spreads along your face.

Kate’s eyes trail down your face and hone in on your lips. The sudden attention makes you subconsciously lick your lips and a slightly metallic taste fills your mouth. You assume the look on her face is due to her concern over you until you notice the way her pupils dilate as blood gathers on your bottom lip.

“Um…Kate? Are you okay?”

Your voice seems to bring her back to the present moment. She leans back a little before she speaks again. “Yeah, we should probably get out of here.”

You hear her words but your gaze is glued right to her mouth and the two protruding teeth you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen before. For a second, you think you’re imagining things but it’s practically impossible to deny what you’re seeing with the way the light bounces off of her teeth.

You had always thought Kate was hiding something. Something that ran deeper than her long list of ex-lovers or weird schedules. But the place your mind is going to right now seems far too illogical. Superheroes, aliens, even the damn multiverse, everything else seemed much more plausible than vampires.

And yet, the proof is staring right at you with caring blue eyes and a nervous smile that tells you you’re both thinking about the same thing.

“I can explain,” she assures you before extending her hand out for you to take. “But you’re gonna have to come with me.”

“You’re insane.”

She shrugs, not at all phased by your comment. “Maybe a little…I promise I won’t bite.”

You don’t know whether to laugh at her joke or slap that look off her face for having the audacity to make it in the first place. Ultimately, your trust in her wins out and you reach for her hand. It’s just one small choice but you have a feeling it’s going to change everything between the two of you.

She starts to lead you toward her car, ignoring your protests like a real gentleman. You weren’t going to act like you had never imagined Kate taking you back to her apartment but you had imagined it under different, significantly sexier, circumstances.

You get into her car and ignore the way your heart is pounding in your chest. You tell yourself it’s only due to the leftover adrenaline from being attacked but you know it has more to do with the overwhelming smell of the archer than anything else.

A few minutes of silence pass before you work up the courage to start a conversation…even though you know you’re not going to like any of the answers you’re searching for. “What do you think that guy wanted?”

“What guy?” Kate’s eyes remain glued to the road ahead, not giving you a chance to decipher the look on her face. “The one who tried to mug you?”

“He wasn’t trying to mug me, he was looking for you.”

You notice the way her jaw clenches even with the darkness that envelops the car. “Looking for me? What are you talking about?”

“Kate, don’t play stupid with me. You can’t possibly think he broke into a highly secured parking lot just to mug the first random secretary he saw.” Her silence is enough of an answer. “So, who is he and what does he want with you?”

“I can’t tell you that. It’ll only put you in more danger.”

“More danger than that?”

“Yes.” You’re sure you’ve never heard her sound so serious before. “Believe it or not, you finding out about this wasn’t in my plans.”

You’re going to regret asking but your mind has been whirling with thoughts and ideas since you first caught sight of those fangs. “What exactly is…’this’?”

“Exactly what you think it is.”

Her tone leaves no room for questions or arguments. Despite that, the only thing that fills your mind is questions. And answers you don’t want to think about.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says, effectively cutting off your flurry of thoughts.

“Why?”

The hunger on her face when she turns to look at you tells you all you need to know. You should probably be scared considering the power she holds over you right now. Not only is she the one driving, she could probably crush you with her bare hands…or sink her sharp fangs into your neck and drain you dry.

Fear is certainly not what you feel at that thought though.

The corners of her mouth quirk up into the cockiest smirk you’ve ever seen. “You’re into some weird stuff, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“What else are you?” The way you shift in your seat doesn’t go unnoticed by the brunette. “Some kind of mind reader?”

“No need,” she replies. “Your scent gave you away.”

Your face heats up at her words but you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment or something else. Thankfully, she pulls up to her apartment complex before you can dig yourself into a deeper hole.

A weirdly comfortable silence surrounds you as you make your way out of the car and into her apartment. You’ve known Kate for a while and you’ve always felt safe around her, something that not even those sharp fangs can take away. Especially when she places a strong hand on the small of your back while she leads the way.

For someone who’s richer than most people will ever be in their whole life, her apartment isn’t extremely lavish or full of ridiculous decorations. It could even be considered minimalistic if it weren’t for the numerous bows scattered all over the living room, the chewed-up boots near Lucky’s dog bed, and the overwhelming amount of clothes piled up on the couch.

“Sorry, I don’t usually have people over,” she says almost as if reading your mind. “I’m not usually so messy.”

“You and I both know that’s a lie, Katherine.”

She makes a disgusted face at the sound of her full name, her expression somewhere between adorable and amusing. “You didn’t have to say it like that.”

You’re about to make another stupid comment when your brain short circuits at the sight of Kate unbuttoning her shirt, the black tank top she always wears underneath straining against her torso and all the muscles you know are hiding out of sight.

The corners of her mouth quirk up just enough to give away the fact that she knows exactly what she’s doing and she’s one-hundred percent doing it on purpose. You’re just grateful she doesn’t verbalize how obvious your breathlessness is.

You attempt to look away from her but she moves her arm just enough for you to notice the dark stain on her shirt. It takes you a second to figure out what it’s from and you mentally curse the brunette for not telling you she had gotten hurt.

“Kate,” you call out once you find your voice again. “You’re bleeding.”

“What?” She looks down at her arm, clearly pretending she hadn’t noticed the wound yet, before shrugging her shoulders. “Oh, yeah, it’s fine.”

“Fine? Why didn’t you tell me you got stabbed?”

“It’s just a scratch.”

She tries to wave you off but it’s too late. You’re already gripping her shoulder and pushing her down onto her overpriced leather couch. “You’re an idiot. Sit down.”

She grumbles something about being able to take care of herself but you don’t listen to a word she says. Instead, your hands reach out for the first-aid kit she keeps on her coffee table.

“Take your shirt off.”

“y/n, if you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask, baby.” Her voice carries that cocky tone that makes you want to punch her and kiss her at the same time.

“Shut up,” you mutter while attempting to look unaffected.

There are too many thoughts swirling around your brain and most of them have to do with Kate doing some very inappropriate things to you, with or without her fangs. The truth is, you can act like you’re only attracted to the danger that could potentially come your way now that you know her secret but she’s always been far too good at scrambling your brain with a few well-placed words.

She finally does what you ask, pushing her shirt off her shoulders and revealing inches of skin you’ve never seen from such close proximity before. You’re able to pass off your clear ogling as concern as you step closer to examine the small knife wound.

It’s only a few inches long but deep enough to have caused her to bleed the entire way here. You wordlessly open up the first-aid kit and start disinfecting the area, doing your best to ignore the soft groans that leave the brunette’s lips.

“Is all of that stuff true?” You ask a few minutes later, the smallest hint of a joke in your tone.

The corners of Kate’s mouth quirk up into a small smirk that tells you she knows exactly what you’re talking about. “What stuff?”

“You know, the stuff about silver and garlic and burning in the sun?”

“Yes to the silver, no to the garlic, and kind of to the sun. I sunburn really easily but I don’t think that’s due to the vampire thing.”

You laugh at her response, the sound nervous yet warm. It’s still too much to wrap your head around but at least she’s not beating around the bush anymore. “How long have you…?”

“All my life,” she replies with an almost inaudible wince as you start to bandage her up. “It’s a long, complicated story but my family and I are descendants of the first vampires to ever exist. We’re legacies.”

“Sounds fancy.”

She chuckles while she shakes her head. “It’s a pain in the ass.”

“I’m sure there are worse things to be.” 

You finish securing the bandage in place right as the words leave your lips. Now that there’s nothing to distract you, you realize how close together the two of you actually are. You’re standing right between Kate’s open legs, the heat of her body warming you up in ways that leave your legs shaky. 

“y/n, I…I’ve done a lot of things that-”

“You don’t have to tell me. I don’t need to know any of that to know I trust you.”

She looks up at you, her usually bright eyes looking soft and vulnerable for the first time in a long time. It’s almost startling how quickly she changes from the cocky and overconfident Kate Bishop everyone knows to this gentle and hesitant version of herself.

A version of her you can't help but love.

Your feelings must be more than obvious by this point but she doesn't push. You've never known her to be slow or patient or particularly sensitive to what other people want and yet she waits.

The seconds feel like hours until her eyes finally drift down to your lips…and the small amount of blood that still coats them.

You shouldn’t be doing this.

The few brain cells that aren’t completely focused on the brunette in front of you tell you to move away from her before you cross a line you won’t be able to come back from. A line that is unprofessional and stupid and full of problems and rumors that will probably ruin your life. 

Unfortunately, crossing that line is the only thing that’s been on your mind since the day you started working for her. And the urge to find out what her lips taste like and what her hands feel like on your skin has only gotten stronger since.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotions you don’t want to think about.

You lean in closer, your breath fanning across her lips while you grab her hands and place them on your waist. “Please don’t stop.”

“y/n…” Her voice comes out somewhere between a whine and a groan. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

It’s unclear whether she’s talking about her vampire side or her serial heartbreaker side but you ignore her warning all the same. You’ve wanted her far too long to let something that seems so irrelevant right now stop you.

“I’ll be fine,” you assure her, letting her pull you close until you're finally sitting on her lap. “I only need you right now.”

The weight and warmth of your body on her lap causes her to take in a sharp breath, one that leaves no doubts about what it is she wants to do with you. “Fuck…”

She leans forward, completely ignoring your lips and instead moving her face toward your neck, her nose brushing against your skin and making your heart skip multiple beats. Her grip on your hips tightens and you swear you can feel the smirk that adorns her features right before she attaches herself to your neck.

Your head tilts back to allow her free access while you do your best not to grind against her. You fail miserably the second her fangs start to nip your skin. She doesn’t bite down hard enough to puncture your neck but the feeling has you desperately bucking your hips in search of relief anyway.

 “Kate-” You gasp out, your hands holding onto her arms for support.

She chuckles while one of her hands starts its journey down inside your jeans. “I know, sweetheart. I can smell how much you need me…how desperate you are to feel me inside you. I bet you can’t think about anything else right now.”

You’re not sure when it happened but her hesitation has clearly gone out the window by now. All that remains is the current of need that flows eagerly between your two bodies.

You let out a soft moan as her fingers dip inside your soaked underwear and find the mess she’s turned you into with a few teasing words and restrained kisses. “Please.”

“Such a good girl,” she murmurs. “How can I deny someone as sweet as you?”

Despite her words, she still doesn’t give you what you truly want. Instead, she presses two fingers against your throbbing clit and starts drawing small circles, her movements slow and calculated. Your hips move in response and you suddenly realize what it is she wants from you. 

There’s no time for whines or embarrassment, no time for anything except desire and desperation. 

You grind down on her fingers and let out a string of incoherent noises that leave Kate groaning into your neck. “Just like that, baby. Show me how much you want me.”

You do just as she asks, rolling your hips and relishing the non-stop kisses she lands on your overheated skin. Her teeth keep teasing you and it’s all you can do not to beg her to bite you hard enough to make you dizzy.

She told you earlier she wasn’t a mind reader but you’re about to call bullshit on that considering the way she picks up on all your dirty thoughts without a single word from you.

“I could drain you so easily right now. You’re so desperate you’d just let me, wouldn’t you? You’d let me sink my teeth into you so long as I kept fucking you, wouldn’t you?”

Your sounds of ecstasy should be more than an answer but they’re not enough for the brunette. She picks up the pace of her fingers and turns your brain to mush long enough for you to let out the truth.

“Yes! God, yes. Please- Don’t stop.”

“Good girl.”

She plants a few more kisses against your neck before she finally bites you. Hard. Hard enough to make your eyes squeeze shut and your legs tense up. The pain borders on unbearable until she starts sucking.

Your mind spins endlessly as all the different sensations overwhelm you. You’re not sure what to focus on but your body makes the decision for you. 

You gasp, although the sound comes out more like a whine than anything else, and Kate takes the hint. She plunges her fingers inside of you right as you fall over the edge, the tips curled just enough to hit that one spot that has you seeing stars that weirdly resemble the color of her eyes.

You’re shaking and panting and dizzier than ever but it all feels far too good. The pleasure and the pain roll together to give you the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had and you suddenly wonder how you lived so long without knowing such ecstasy existed.

Kate detaches herself from your neck right as the ringing in your ears fades. You open your eyes to the sight of her, pupils blown wide and her lips stained red. You subconsciously clench around her fingers and she smiles.

“I was right,” she says, her voice low and far too controlled for your liking. “You taste as delicious as you smell.”

You don’t waste another second attaching your lips to hers and drowning out all her cocky statements.

You end up spending the rest of the night getting to know Kate in ways you’d only ever dreamed about before, completely oblivious to the way word already starts spreading about your intimate encounter outside the walls of her apartment.

[grlsbstshot]

NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters): Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Story Synopsis: 

R&B singer/songwriter, Jameson Lucas, is well known as a charming playboy. The latest in his line of ‘loved em and left em’ behavior? Imani St. Cirie, an emotive singer/songwriter herself. A common sense pulls them in opposite directions – friendships are tested, old flames resurface, and new opportunities threaten to tear them apart for good. In this industry, dreams can make or break you – but what happens when love becomes the gamble of a lifetime? Chapter I // Chapter II // Special Edition

Chapter Synopsis: Jameson finds himself in New York for work and gets distracted by an old friend. Warnings: toxic relationship, possessiveness, profanity, usage of the n-word (if you’re white and read it, you owe us $20), manipulation – if we missed anything, let us know! Word Count: 4.1k Divider Template: @cafekitsune Notes: The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

There will be alternating POVs between our leads.

Chapter III: Fade Away

the chatter at her weekly brunch with friends was distracting. sloane lennox glared down at her phone as if it was the reason she was so pissed. jamani back on? what a terrible title for an article. what a horrible idea for jameson. imani st. cirie was everything that jameson didn't need. he was irresponsible, childishly demanding, and easily distracted. he was an artist with an artist's temperament. from what she knew of imani, the woman was the same. they just weren't a good couple. anyone could see that. she didn't get why jameson couldn't.

sloane! we're out of champagne!

"am i your mother? do you need permission? just order another bottle." sloane snapped, rolling her eyes as she continued to scroll.

she got to the images -- proof that jameson was sniffing around his ex. this was bullshit. sloane closed out of the site, scrolling her contact list and finding jameson's name. it rang in her ear, her agitation increasing the longer it went on. his smooth baritone was nowhere to be heard. the phone beeped, indicating she should leave a message so sloane simply hung up.

she stewed in her agitation, forcing herself not to call again. this was critical. jamie couldn't be pushed. if she told him to do something, he went the other way. this was going to take some finesse but sloane knew she was up to it. she had loved jameson since the first time she saw him. she knew him better than anybody

fifteen years old and shy, sloane hadn't made friends easily. only one gravitated towards her: genie adesanya. genie took sloane under her wing, welcoming her into her life with ease. it was because of genie that she'd met jameson. he had been seventeen and practically genie's stepbrother. handsome, and he knew it, jamie had charmed sloane. he'd been flirtatious but never inappropriate. eventually it settled into him cracking jokes and playing protector with she and genie. for two whole years, jamie had been hers. her friend, her protector, her crush. it all changed when he released his first album.

then he belonged to the world. jamie became james lucas. the crooning falsetto that she'd known intimately had finally been heard by the world. jamie's career took off then. sloane never had a chance to make him hers fully. her crush lay dormant, unfulfilled, while he dated his way through hollywood. models, actresses, singers. they came and went. sloane always remained. he eventually left them but he never left her.

sloane had finally gotten up the nerve to tell him how she felt in 2020 -- the same night he met imani st. cirie. she watched him walk into another woman's life but knew it wouldn't last. it never did. three years later, sloane had gotten nervous. jameson rarely lasted a year with a woman and there he was celebrating three with imani. it had practically driven her insane...but then they had broken up. she'd been so relieved that she didn't bother hiding her joy from anybody who'd listen. it caused the destruction of her friendship with genie -- but jameson remained.

he jumped into another relationship and just like clockwork -- it ended before a full year was up. sloane decided not to watch anymore. 2024 was her time with him. he had to see for himself that she was the one and only constant in his life. the only woman he could rely on.

the phone vibrated in her hand and sloane peered down at the screen with a smile. jamie was calling. now all she had to do was...shift his perspective.

it had been years since jameson was inside the moma. he spent many afternoons sitting in front of claude monet's lillies canvas when he was trying to establish a career on broadway. it felt good to return to his old stomping grounds -- this time from special invitation.

sloane had fussed and pouted until he promised to stop by and see her after his gq interview. he was jetlagged after flying to new york the day before and only planned to have a short visit before collapsing into the expansive bed in his suite.

it had been so long since he saw her face to face that he had been successfully guilted into making the time. texts and calls here and there filled the void in their friendship but it always felt better to see her in person. twelve years after they'd met, sloane was different. at twenty-seven, she'd grown up like they all had. she was an art dealer, smart as hell and sophisticated. glasses had been replaced by contact lenses. hasty ponytails had been swapped for expertly styled hair. converse sneakers turned into muaddi heels. but no matter what, she was still the girl who was trying to find her place.

he waited for her on the first floor, hands braced behind his back as he watched bustling crowds of people behind his sunglasses. several slowed to peer at him and jameson easily avoided eye contact. he didn't mind being a celebrity but he was too tired to be charming.

"jamie!" he heard called out and turned to see sloane heading his way. she wore a bright smile, expensive clothes, and heels that he was sure cost as much as her outfit. jameson quickly moved towards her, not letting her pull him into a hug. he turned her around with his hand to the small of her back and quickly walked her up the stairs. "what are you doing?" sloane laughed and he glanced over his shoulder to make sure they weren't followed.

"why'd you tell me meet you at the front door? hella people were down there. i don't feel like signing shit today." jameson fussed, not surprised that she laughed louder. sloane did what she wanted when she wanted.

"i'm sorry." she said softly, grasping his bicep as they moved to the second floor. there were still crowds there but they were much more interested in the art than they were in him. "i'm glad you came." sloane continued. "i missed you."

"i missed you too." jameson grumbled, walking along the floor with her. "we both live in cali though. why'd i have to fly to new york to see you if that was the case?"

sloane quirked a brow at him. "you tell me. last i heard, you were working on album, completely locked in, but then i find out you got time to get imani back?"

he scoffed, shaking his head but not denying the accusation. he had seen the same article and didn't give a damn about it. he didn't feel he needed to explain himself to sloane either. "you called me here to talk about my ex?"

"of course not." sloane told him. "i called you here to talk about me. my favorite subject." she let his arm go, framing her face with her own hands and jameson couldn't help but laugh. "i didn't know you'd be out here anyway until you mentioned the interview. i just wanted to see my friend. make sure he's okay. you know?"

"i'm fine." he told her, stopping in front of a painting and peering down at the brunette by his side. confiding in sloane wasn't strange. he told her and ej everything -- even shit he didn't tell genie anymore. "me and mani aren't back together. she's thinking about giving me another chance."

"i'm happy for you, jamie." she said softly. "but..." "but what?" "it didn't work the first time..." "because of me. i fucked up." "even so. love shouldn't be hard. you and imani? your love is hard." "but worth it. i love her." "i know you do. and you should. she's a wonderful girl. but what about you?" "what about me?" "you're an incredible man. exceptional. singular in every way. i think you deserve to be happy. you shouldn't have to make yourself small to make it work." "that's not what's happening with imani." "no?" sloane questioned. "what is she doing to make sure you guys have another chance? is she reassuring you? is she talking to you? it takes two to be in love."

jameson was quiet for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. no, imani didn't seem to be enthusiastic about their chances of trying again but could he blame her? "you don't understand, lo. i...i cheated. when we broke up? i cheated. it's my fault."

he watched as her eyes go wide with the information and she lapsed into silence. it didn't last long though. she stepped closer to him, wrapping her arm around his waist as they stood together. "that doesn't change the fact that you're a good man. so you made a mistake. anybody who knows you knows that you're good."

her constant belief in and support of him was invaluable. jameson wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hugged him briefly. "thank you for saying that. but anything she says or does to me, i deserve it. and i'm going to take it -- if it means we can start over."

sloane gave him a brief nod of her head and leaned her body against his. "i understand. i still don't think she's right for you. you need someone to believe in you. i think too much has happened between you and imani. i don't know if she's that woman for you anymore."

he hoped like hell sloane was wrong. imani was the only woman he'd genuinely loved. his selfishness had robbed him of love and he was feeling the consequences heavily. she walked ahead, pulling him with her and jameson went -- his mind on imani and if he was fooling himself by thinking they were going to get it right the second time around.

"c'mon. let me buy you lunch. i made reservations at gramercy tavern." sloane told him sweetly as she wrapped both arms around him, stilling his movement. "i didn't mean to upset you. i just want what's best for you."

jameson peered down at her to say no, to make his excuses. he was exhausted and wanted to sleep but one look at her pouting face -- and he couldn't do anything but laugh. "i know you do. let's go eat now. i'm tired." he said softly, pressing a kiss to her head and wrapping his arm around her shoulder before leading her down the grand staircase.

with a kiss to her head and a brief hug, jameson had left her outside the st. regis hotel. as she made her way upstairs, her phone pinged yet again in her purse and she ignored the sound until she crossed the threshold of her suite. once she was comfortable, she unlocked her phone and stretched across the couch.

[ e. ricardo ] : he's not here yet [ e. ricardo ] : if this is bullshit, i'm going to write my next column about you and you won't like the details i give [ e. ricardo ] : he's in place. my photographer is there. [ e. ricardo ] : snapped you two. how cute. [ e. ricardo ] : where are you going with him? [ e. ricardo ] : hello?? my photographer lost you two on 53rd st

sloane sighed, deleting all the texts from her phone. calling the paps wasn't out of the unusual for her but this one was a pushy bastard. she did it when she worked with particularly high profile clients and when she just wanted her name circling with people who could boost her career. but she had never called them about jamie. ernest had practically salivated at the idea of getting exclusive pictures of jameson doing anything. even if it was just a lunch date with a friend.

she pushed call on the contact, listening to it ring. when he answered, sloane didn't bother acting friendly. "are the pics good?"

ernest quickly reassured her they were. he even offered to send them to her but she quickly denied. the less proof they had of a connection to one another, the better. she told him she wanted them up online before the next morning and he obliged before they ended the call. the pictures weren't scandalous but she knew it'd shake imani. cheating boyfriend in another city with pretty friend? wrapping his arms around her? she knew it'd do something to the other woman.

was it a move that could backfire on her? yes. imani could decide to fight for jameson but sloane was okay with that. she had decided to fight for him -- why not have a worthy opponent? she knew jameson would be asleep soon. he probably wouldn't see them when they were posted. even if he had, she could always pretend to be just as dismayed as him. she'd even take to social media to help clear up any rumors.

the pretty, kind hearted friend of james lucas. the classy girl that people would make people say "well why isn't he with her?". that was going to be her new image. and she knew it'd change if those pictures looked as cozy as it felt being with him. suddenly, people would wonder about them. he would wonder about them. all she needed was for that switch to flip in his mind.

sloane rose from the couch and went to run herself a bath. she ignored the buzzing of her phone for the next few hours -- realizing the article had clearly come out. now she had to be careful if she was going to make this happen. jameson would never forgive her if he knew she was going to do her best to stop a reunion with imani.

the familiar ringtone echoed throughout the room and jameson smiled in his sleep. it was the song he'd written for imani. he played it as the ringtone anytime she called. it'd been so long since he heard it playing from his phone. imani didn't call him anymore. he called her. he texted her.

still -- he could hear it and it stirred him from sleep. jameson stretched across the bed, sitting up in the darkened bedroom. he fumbled across the bed, reaching for his phone. by the time he snatched it up, the ringing had stopped. he could see the time on his screensaver and blinked the sleep from his eyes. it was six in the morning...which meant it was around noon for her in italy. they had exchanged texts since she'd been gone. it had only been three days but he had missed her deeply.

seeing he had two missed calls from imani made him frown. he wanted to hear her voice. he unlocked his phone to call her back but then the text came through. he opened it -- thinking it was more of cute and humorous conversation they'd been having for the past few days.

[ mani ]: i don’t know what type of bitch you take me for, but a stupid one, you know i’m not that. i told you no more bullshit so why i’m seeing pictures of you cuddled up with sloane at the fuckin moma? like i said i’m not a dumb bitch. you want to cuddle up with her, then be with her. i’m done.

jameson read the text twice, confusion making his brows furrow. "what the fuck?" he muttered to himself. it felt like somebody had put his ass in the blender and he was all mixed up. he immediately tried to call imani. no ringing. straight to voicemail. he'd been blocked by her enough to know the hallmarks of it. "fuck!" he cursed angrily, pulling the phone from his ear to send her a text that he knew she wouldn't see.

baby, i don't know what fuck you're talking about. ain't no bullshit with me and her. you know that. call me back.

he waited a few minutes but with no response, jameson climbed out of bed as he clicked his way through social media. it wasn't hard to find the 'just in' and tmz articles complete with computers. he and sloane talking. he and sloane laughing. he and sloane hugging. the kiss to her head. jameson groaned. actions he thought of as friendly definitely looked like something more. even he could admit that. reading the comments would do him no good but he saw that each had thousands.

even his instagram had an influx of activity. people commenting on pictures from months ago. even sloane had issued a statement of sorts where she asked people not to speculate about her personal life. this was bad. and he knew there was only one move he could make now.

he scrolled through his contact list and looked for genie's number. it rang -- a sign that she hadn't blocked him -- but she didn't answer. jameson left a terse message, telling her to call him back before he hung up and called ej.

sloane had played her part well. she'd been shocked and aghast. properly outraged on behalf of her famous friend. she scrolled through the comments with relish. for every one that called jameson cheating scum, there were two that said they looked cute together. for every comment that said imani deserved better, there were two asking what sloane's instagram was.

she had posted to her story, demanding an apology for the invasion of privacy and ensured that she named jameson as her 'close friend' -- nothing more, nothing less. that was enough to set speculation off once more. not the conversation wasn't just about "jamani" -- it was about imani, jameson, and sloane.

just as she was about to scroll more comments, a call came through on her phone. genie's name flashed across her screen and she froze before answering it. the two girls hadn't spoken in a year. sloane's opposition to imani had put her on the wrong side of genie. for some reason, genie had chosen imani over her and sloane never forgot it.

still, she answered the phone with a kind, curious tone -- interested in what her former friend could possibly have to say.

"are you sleeping with jameson?" genie asked abruptly and sloane laughed. no hello. no how are you? no fake bullshit. she got right to the shit and sloane knew she had to handle the other woman carefully.

"are you out of your mind?" "that's not an answer." "genie, you know jamie and i aren't like that." "no. but i know you want to be."

sloane frowned, annoyed at the fact that genie would so bluntly state the facts. she couldn't have genie running around telling anybody that. especially jameson. not before she could fully get imani out of the picture.

"that was a stupid crush, genie. and it's cruel of you to bring it up. jamie and i have a real friendship and you know that. or you would if you hadn't cut me off for imani." sloane disputed, pleased when genie didn't say anything for a minute.

"he loves imani, sloane." "but does she truly still love him?" "that's for them to figure out." "i don't think it's hard to decide if you love someone or not." "that is for them to figure out, sloane. you cannot get involved." "i'm not involved. he's my friend and i'm going to protect my friend. just like you're doing now." "it's not protecting him if people think you guys are fucking. if you care about jamie, help him."" that's exactly what i'm doing."

sloane hung up the phone, taking a deep breath as she tried to regain her composure. she wasn't wrong. jameson and imani were too ill matched to make it work. she was just helping him face that fact. the sooner he did, the better it would be for him.

"yerrrrrrr" ej answered the phone unseriously, already knowing why jameson was calling. he had seen the articles and the posts. he'd seen the comments and wondered -- was his best friend holding out on him? jameson and genie and sloane had a shared childhood that ej didn't quite get. but he didn't try very hard to understand. he didn't really care.

"mani blocked me. i need you to call her for me."

ej snorted, shaking his head. "nah." he heard his best friend sigh loudly, frustration covering every inch of the sound. "i don't want to get cursed out by proxy. it did look like something was up with you and sloane."

"it's not! at least call her then click me in on the call."

he could hear in jameson's tone that he meant it. there was nothing happening with sloane. that was good. sloane was a pretty girl but ej could tell that if jameson broke her heart, she'd never recover. she'd never be able to give him what he got from being with imani. what that was...only jameson knew. still...ej denied him. "that'll be a hell nah."

"ellington, i swear to god..." "nigga done forgot his manners and everything, that's crazy." "mani is about to walk away from me for good. and you not gone help me?" "calm your ass down. you said nothing happened so that's one point in your favor. just...gimme a minute. i'll call you back."" i'm serious, man. i gotta -- " "i know, bruh. just...trust me. give me ten minutes."

reluctantly, jameson agreed. it took ej five minutes to calm him down. he had to promise to call back within ten minutes. ej went down his contact list and landed on the only one without a name. she simply had glasses, needle and thread, and a purple heart emoji where her name should be. it was foolish but it summed up their relationship pretty well.

she answered within three rings and ej smiled as he stretched across his bed. "ms adesanya. how you doing?" ej heard her sigh and knew she was already annoyed with him. good.

"let me guess. jameson told you to call?" "how'd you guess?" "she doesn't want to talk to him." "i figured. i had to give it a shot tho. that's my boy." "tell your boy to stop cuddling with bitches in public." "oh, she's a bitch? i thought you and sloane were cool." "we were. then we weren't." "shame. i remember when yall were the three musketeers. you, her, and jameson." "was there anything else you needed, ellington?" "yes, imogen. i'd like you to convince imani to let jameson explain."" i'll take it under consideration. anything else?" "yeah. are you in la? let's grab a drink. we gotta figure out how to help our dumb ass friends." "i'm out of the country. we'll be back next week." "we? you in spain with imani?" "not spain. italy. we're in rome." "oooh. yeah yeah. i remember now. rome. hotel...the fancy place with the birds and the steps." "what? there are no stairs outside here." "yes, there are. they're on the east side of the hotel." "ellington, there are no stairs here." "baby, i googled the hotel. it's hotel danieli, ain't it?" "he told you wrong. we're at the st. regis rome." "ohhhhhh. oh shit. that was somebody else i was thinking of. well -- we should get a drink when you're back. our best friends stress us out. let's relax together." "um...okay. sure."

he could hear the confusion in her voice and ellington grinned, knowing that he had agitated her into telling him what hotel they were at. he'd always thought genie adesanya was gorgeous. everything was beautiful about her. her grace, her kindness. even the way she got her damn nails down. nothing but pure elegance. she stood on the fringes of his friendship with jameson. they never truly got to know one another. so he settled for being the annoying friend of a friend.

over the years, he'd periodically pop in, send her an annoying text, and then pop right back out. she probably didn't even know he liked her and ej wanted to keep it that way. friend groups mixing were messy -- clearly evidenced by the newest round of bullshit with imani and jameson. he was content to tease and provoke genie until she furrowed her pretty eyebrows. that would have to be enough.

once he got her off the phone, ej called jameson back -- two minutes before the ten minute deadline was up. he knew his friend was close to a crashout and figured the only way to stop it was for him to get active. a phone call wasn't going to get it.

"get your ass on a plane, fix it, and then get back before the weekend is over. we got shit to do."

[postcardsfromspace]

An Open Letter to New York Times Subscribers

Hello,

I am writing to encourage you to cancel your subscription to the New York Times, in light of their consistently aggressively biased, irresponsible, and shoddy reporting on trans issues and stacking of their op-ed section with transphobic voices.

This is not a new problem, but it's one that the NYT has compounded and doubled down on over the last few years. The open letter published yesterday is a remarkably civil overview of the issues with their reporting and the material harm that reporting has done; it doesn't even touch on the op-ed stuff, which is absolutely vile. The NYT's official response was to dismiss the signatories--including hundreds of NYT contributors and thousands of readers and other media professionals (including me)--as "activists" working at odds with the NYT's nominal goal of journalistic integrity. The next day--today--they headlined their op-ed section with a defense of J.K. Rowling, who has done more to misinform and stoke the fires of transphobia--in both practice and official policy--than any other public figure, comparing her "persecution"--being correctly identified as transphobic--to that experienced by Salman Rushdie, and repeatedly misgendering trans men as women.

As a former journalist, I consider the NYT's reporting on trans issues unconscionable; as a trans person, I find it incredibly scary. NYT articles--ones misreported to an extent that has triggered open criticism from major medical organizations--have been used to justify some of the most aggressive anti-trans legislation this and last season. That the "paper of record" has decided to advocate for our dehumanization puts the dignity and lives of people like me in active jeopardy, and regardless the quality of their other work, I don't think there's a conscionable way to continue to support them. Yours, Jay Edidin

[dezelies]

Quackity as ur bf.

Headcanons

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆ NOTES: my version of Quackity as ur bf!!! not proofread :d

VERSION ONE (shy type?)

It definitely took you almost a year for him to, say yes to you or realize his feelings for you because he is hotheaded and unbothered with romance.

After he said yes, he might have ghosted you for 2 days because he was so shy and didn't know what else to do so you came over to his house to hangout and so he can warm up to you.

Then after warming up to you he showed you a side of him you never saw,

He would be the one to take you on dates by surprise,

he would give you roses, bouquets, pretty jewelry that doesn't have to be expensive, chocolate, etc as a gift.

When he fully warmed up to you he became more comfortable with doing things he never really thought would happen to him.

Constantly checks up on you and asks what your doing.

SHOWERS YOU WITH COMPLIMENTS!!!! even if you look like a rat from new york that fell in a sewage, he would call you pretty and loves to hug you!!

Nicknames would definitely be considered in the relationship, you would call him nicknames out of the ordinary.

Third image, definitely him!!!

NOTICES SMALL THINGS ABOUT YOU BECAUSE HE THINKS YOU'RE SPECIAL

If you guys had a fight he would give you space but reminds you that he's still there and won't leave you. He would apologize with gifts and affection.

After you guys fought and made up, the clingy side of him would spawn and not leave for months until he knows that you and him are okay.

VERSION TWO (ewan type)

He was the one who courted you and it didn't take too long for you to say yes because he was constantly next to you and you already had feelings for him before.

After you said yes, he immediately warmed up to you but was still shy doing things with you, you and him decided to take things at a slow pace and not rush everything as there's still time.

The first date you and him had was somewhere expensive because he felt extraordinary, but the next dates that occurred were not too expensive because you told him that he doesn't have to tale you on these expensive dates every month, so every week he takes you on road trips whether it's from one city to another city vice versa. He definitely likes taking you to Baguio city or any city that's either cold or hot. Give him a weather, he's taking you there.

Emotionally smart and Street smart fr.

Sings for you!!! Or makes songs for you, the very first song he sang to you was a Daniel padilla song because he found out that you were a fan.

He loves hugging you and calling you his girlfriend, also loves complimenting you because he's great with his words. Treats you like a princess!!!

Nicknames are a must for him, "love". "pretty". "babe" any nicknames that are considered cheesy by single people

Very responsible and mature, so if you're being irresponsible and acting not so mature in a serious situation he would snap you out of it and act non-chalant.

Very seloso! (jealous) sometimes overprotective over you, like if you were talking to someone he doesn't know, his eyes would be focused on you and the person, he would observe everything the person is doing and would try to scan their personality based on their movements.

He's scary but gentle, honest, caring, loving, basta alam niyo na.

minsan di mo na alam kung pogi typings ba 'to or wala talagang pake.

If you guys had a fight he might ghost you for 4d-2w laging nagtatampo siguro, parang aso namin. But he would apologize with words while hugging you, he would gift you something as an apology.

After making up, he vows to not fight with you again because he didn't like that and he would be clingy and takes you on roadtrips.

[rxmqnova]

First school day

Y/N: 5 years old ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV It's Y/N's first ever school day today and Natasha has been super excited for her little one to start school, especially when Y/N's in her classroom. It's not a coincidence though. Natasha made sure Y/N would be in her class as the little one has quite a problem staying with anyone other than her mommy.

The tiny girl has never spent a day without the redhead. Her father left before she was even born, so Natasha's the only parent Y/N has. And Natasha's parents live in Ohio which is quite a way from New York, so they can't babysit Y/N either.

Well, and Natasha's younger sister is the only one Y/N stays without Natasha if it's necessary. But knowing how irresponsible her sister can be, Natasha doesn't use Yelena's babysitting services very often.

"Wakey, wakey, sweetheart" Natasha smiles, sitting down on Y/N's bed and running her fingers through her daughter's hair.

"Mama" Y/N whines, turning her back at her mother. "Sleepy" She mumbles, tightening her grip over her teddy bear.

"I guess I gotta go to school alone then" Natasha teases, poking Y/N's side which makes the little one squeal.

Y/N sits up, rubbing her tired eyes and doing grabby hands towards Natasha on which the redhead smiles and sits Y/N on her lap, giving her daughter a cuddle.

"Did you have a good sleep?" Natasha asks, kissing the top of Y/N's head.

"Mhm" The little girl just nods and snuggles up to her mommy who stands up and carries her to the kitchen for breakfast. "Can we have peanut butter sandwiches?" Y/N mumbles.

"Is that even a question?" Natasha asks playfully, lifting a plate full of peanut butter sandwiches she prepared before she went to wake Y/N up.

"Mommy, you are the best!" Y/N gasps, bouncing on Natasha's hip happily while kicking her tiny legs on which Natasha smiles and kisses her baby's head.

The pair eats their breakfast, though Y/N's been blabbering about how she's excited to make new friends the entire time and Natasha's just been happily listening.

"Okay, my little pumpkin. Let's brush your teeth, dress you up, do your hair and we're ready to go" Natasha smiles, booping Y/N's nose which makes the tiny one giggle.

———

The pair arrives to school early. Y/N's holding Natasha's hand while happily looking around as the redhead's leading her little one to the classroom.

"Where would you like to sit, baby?" Natasha asks, looking at the still empty classroom.

"Can I sit there?" As expected, Y/N points at the desk in the first row, the nearest one to Natasha's desk.

"Of course" Natasha smiles softly and leads her daughter there. Y/N climbs the chair, looking around at all those pictures and other stuff that are hanging on the walls while Natasha takes Y/N's school supplies out of her bag.

The classroom is soon starting to get filled with children which is making Y/N a bit uncomfortable.

"Hi" A girl approaches the little Romanoff, a warm smile playing on her lips.

"Hi" Y/N mumbles out shyly, looking at the little brunette.

"Do you want to be friends?" The girl asks on which Y/N nods her head happily. "I'm Haley"

"I'm Y/N" Y/N says with a little smile, not noticing her mother who's watching them with a huge smile on her face.

The lesson starts soon though, so all of the children are sitting behind their desks and listening to everything Natasha's telling them.

But a knock on the door interrupts soon, revealing the principal of the school when it opens.

"Miss Romanoff, can we have a word?" The principal Fury asks, Natasha nodding her head and telling the children she'll be back soon before walking out of the classroom.

Y/N watches her mother walk out, her eyes filling with tears. "Mama" She whispers to herself, not liking at all Natasha's not here with her. "Mama" She cries out, burying her face into her hands.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Haley questions, now standing next to Y/N's desk.

"Want mommy" Y/N cries out loudly.

The little brunette takes matter into her own hands and walks out of the classroom, bumping into Natasha who only just said bye to Fury.

"Where you're going, sweetheart?" Natasha asks, bending down to Haley's level.

"Miss Romanoff, Y/N's crying. She wants her mommy" The little brunette explains, Natasha's eyes widening.

The two walk back into the classroom, Natasha rushing to her crying daughter and kneeling down beside her.

"Y/N/N, it's okay. I'm here" Natasha sighs, wiping Y/N's tears away with her thumb.

"Mommy" Y/N hiccups, wrapping her arms around her mother and crying into her neck.

"Honey, I was just outside the door" Natasha sighs, pressing kisses to Y/N's cheek and rubbing her back. "Let's go out for a little bit, yeah?" She asks softly, not wanting to upset her daughter even more.

Natasha lifts Y/N up, telling the class they'll be back soon while carrying her daughter out of the room.

Y/N eventually calms down after a little while, now just resting her head on Natasha's shoulder and twirling her finger around a strand of Natasha's hair.

"It's okay now, sweetheart. You're okay. Can we go back in? I promise I won't go anywhere anymore" Natasha says softly, trying to avoid another potential tears.

Hearing a nod Natasha walks back into the classroom with hope to finally start the lesson. Surely she'll have to work on Y/N's separation anxiety which seems to be bigger than she thought. And she'll definitely need to have a talk with Y/N about this little incident, but that will have to wait until the two arrive back home.

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

Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Masterlist

[sonicscrewdriverstantz]

Headcanons, Being Ray Stantz's Child

gender neutral!reader, child!reader

Being born during the groups college days, and just adding a dose of daily chaos to their otherwise uneventful studies.

Three men and a baby. Enough said. It's absolute pandemonium.

Ray being the mother hen. Egon being the irresponsible father, and Peter being the fun uncle.

You have an entire family, even if not by blood.

Ray bringing you to college with him, and multitasking because he can't afford childcare.

Him using you as someone to rattle off all his theories about the occult and paranormal to before you can even crawl.

Peter uses you as a 'mini wing-man'. Women flock to him because they think you're his child and find the fact that he's a seemingly decent single dad attractive. (GIRL, IT'S THE BARE MINIMUM) Peter being himself, of course, doesn't bother to correct them.

Constant compliments being directed towards you by women, to which Peter's reply is always the same.

'Mhmmm, yeah, they get their looks from their father' *insert cocky, arrogant smirk*

Ray then reminding him that he's not actually the father.

'Oh, no, I know, I was complimenting you, honey' *cocky, arrogant smirk still in place, this smug guy knows exactly what he's doing*

Ray immediately becoming quiet and turning a bright, red colour, stumbling, tripping, collapsing over the English language, of which he's usually quite eloquent with. Then picking you up in his arms, and walking off muttering variants of profanities and insults directed at Peter

This section was greatly inspired by a ficlet my friend, @xraylovers wrote for me :) Thanks for letting me use your idea bestie.

Egon views you as a science experiment... problems ensue.

Days spent leaning over old occult books, the dusty aroma worn like a birthday badge as a testament to the age of the journal drifting into his child's face as Ray carefully reads each line.

Him having no concern as to whether this is proper bedtime story material for a 5 year old, as long as their happy, which, judging from the small inquisitive smile and plethora of questions asked, they most definitely are.

Ray is so excited to have a mini replica of him, just as interested in the occult as he is, someone to share his special interest with and experience the excitement and wonder of it all for the first time through their eyes.

Peter looking upon Y/N as his niece/nephew and calling them 'Baby Stantz' or 'The Littlest Ghostbuster' or variations upon. All the while, Y/N constantly complaining about wanting to be a Ghostbuster now.

Naturally, Peter buys a mini Ghostbusters suit with 'Baby Stantz' custom inscribed as the name tag, as well as a toy replica proton-pack. Which Egon promptly turns into a miniature, but fully-working proton-pack... until Ray confiscates it, sharing some harsh words with Egon about children's safety.

'Ray, I was merely teaching Y/N the proper way to operate a proton pack to prepare them for when they become a Ghostbuster'

'EGON! You can't give a child an unlicensed nuclear accelerator!'

Winston becoming the only semi-normal parental figure you have: Egon knows nothing about children, your dad is an extreme mother hen, and Peter is... himself.

Your dad would often take you out in the Ecto-1, wheels spinning, sirens blaring (after you begged ro have the sirens on, and every time he agrees because he has no backbone when it comes to you). You roll down the window and hold your hand out, letting the air rush through your fingers in quick succession as you take in the sights of New York City.

Despite his initial protest, when you became a little older and he realised how serious and passionate you were about following in his footsteps, your dad taught you how to use a proton pack and ghost trap (while supervised of course!) in the basement. While others your age were playing sports or video games, you were being taught how to wrangle ghosts and spirits.

Despite the dangers and challenges of being a Ghostbuster, you've always been proud of your dad and your family. They're not just heroes to the world, they're heroes to you, too.

[czennieszn]

the magic of christmastime | l. castellan ❆

part 2: we're like snow on the beach

child of aphrodite reader (Y/N) x luke castellan (fluff, angst)

It's snowing in Camp Half-Blood, the morning you and Luke are going to NYC. Like the snow that settles on the beach of camp, you two are so extremely different. Yet when paired together, it feels unreal yet so perfect at the same time. Yet will that perfectness last forever? You think to yourself, as Silena Beaurguard's unusual warning keeps nagging at the back of your mind.

w.c. 2.8K taglist: @songofthesuns @ellaisafrog

______________________________________________________________

You knew life was going smoothly when you had woken up after a night with no nightmares. Zero. Ziltcha. Nada. You were eternally grateful for the lack of dreams because the last thing that you needed was a looming shadow of a thought plaguing your mind like a sorrowful afterthought on such an eventful day. To cut to the chase, you were extremely excited.

Brushing your teeth, you felt a grin started to creep up your face. It seemed silly, at first. You and Luke had been dating for a while, yet you still got excited for dates? That was the magic of dating Luke, you felt warm and safe in his presence, always giving you flutters in your stomach and making you stutter when you spoke. Noticing your unusually chipper mood (as well as the blooming blush across your face), Silena nudged your shoulder as she gave you a cheeky grin.

"What's got you smiling like that? Or rather, I wonder who?" She teased you. Of course, it was Luke who was the cause behind your adoration, but she still liked to tease you. 

You must have had a noticeable blush on your face because Silena laughed out loud, catching your expression. You tried to put a grimace on your face, trying to deflect her teasing, but the edges of your mouth refused to do so and curled into a laidback smile.

"I'm going on a field trip today with Luke" you carefully started. "Mhm," Silena waited.

"To New York City".

"Oh!" Silena gasped, surprised. Sure, it was known to camp that you and Luke had dates at least once a week, and sometimes, almost every day (once you were finished with cabin duties of course). But it was the first time that you two were leaving camp together. Alone, just you two. Albeit, still together, but with the freedom from annoying campers and annoying authority figures. 

Safe to say, you were literally knawing at the iron bars of your enclosure (yes, a joke, you weren't locked up) to get alone time with Luke.

"And Chiron and Mr. D just let you go?" Silena questioned.

"Yeah… last night Luke and I asked and it took quite a bit of convincing, but they gave us permission to go," you responded.

"Wow, that's…pretty nice," Silena dejectedly said. Her head hung low as she avoided your eyes while spitting out her toothpaste. That was pretty unlike her, to not look you in the eyes while you two spoke.

What's wrong?" you said, noticing the fault in her voice and her abnormal behavior. As she continued to avoid eye contact, Silena hesitated before answering your question.

"It's just that, there have been so many dangerous things going on. So many dangerous monsters are regenerating quickly after being sent to Tartarus. To be frank, I'm quite scared for your safety," Silena quietly said. She fiddled with the silver chain bracelets that adorned her wrist. Unsure if what she said was too harsh to you, you could see her gulp nervously.

"We will be safe, I promise," you urged. Before you could continue, Silena looked up and cut you from justifying your departure.

"Honestly, it is a bit irresponsible that Chiron and Mr. D are letting you leave camp, I mean. Is that the best decision?" Silena was now getting heated. "Can't you guys just have another one of your dates at the lake or in the mountains, or something? Just within camp boundaries, of course," Sensing her concerns, you tried your best to alleviate her stress. 

"We are senior counselors, we can take care of ourselves. Thank you for your concern, Silena," you soothed her. (Or at least tried, it wasn't soothing because you still had some toothpaste in your mouth. You probably looked and sounded silly, as you were still eye-crust-ridden and half asleep.)

"It doesn't matter that you two are senior counselors, it's still unsafe out there!"  Silena said, and you could hear a slight shake in her voice. Quickly spitting out your toothpaste, you could see that she was genuinely upset and worried. 

Her face was etched with lines of disappointment and dissatisfaction clouded her vision. Hugging her, you could hear her voice hitch as she tried to swallow her worries. She was nearly about to break down and cry in your arms. You knew that same god-awful feeling of holding your tongue at the roof of your mouth to prevent the tears from escaping you. 

Trying your best not to smudge her eyeliner, you took your freshly manicured nails and wiped a spare tear that fell from her right eye. "You're my sister, you know that right?" She quietly whispered.

"I know, Silena," you whispered back, squeezing her arm.

"And I would rather die than let anything happen to you," Silena buried her head in your neck.

"I know, Silena," you whispered again.

"Please, please, please promise me that you won't be distracted and that you will stay safe," she continued, her voice muffled as her head was tucked in the cashmere fabric of your turtleneck. (I know she was crying but if she got a bit of snot on my turtleneck I would be moderately pissed off)

"I promise you," you hugged her tighter. 

She looked up at you, her voice now clear. "There will come a day where Luke won't even be able to protect you, and you have to stay safe and protect yourself. You hear me?" Silena said as the tone of her voice suddenly became even. It scared you because you had no idea what she was talking about. But to appease her from droning on about her sudden, strange insinuation, you nodded vigorously. 

"Promise me please?" She said, her voice now back to an uneven tone.

"I promise you, Silena. I will stay safe, I will protect myself," you said. You couldn't tell what was wrong with her, but you knew that she needed a hug.

"Okay, I trust you," she said as she released you from the tight embrace you had held her in. Just like a light switch, her demeanor changed from the expression of a worrisome mother to the cheery smile she always had on her face every day. The quick change was unnerving, and your smile faltered from your face. 

What the hell, you thought. Is she genuinely okay? The question died on the tip of your tongue, as you refrained from asking her that. Yeah, that's probably the last thing she'd want to hear right now, as you knew she still didn't want to talk about her most recent breakup with this guy from the Hypnos cabin.

"What do you plan to do in the city?" Silena asked, snapping you out of your inner monologue. You were extremely disconcerted, as she had pretended like she wasn't two and a half seconds away from having a mental breakdown in front of her. 

Masking your confusion on your face, you answered her. Gods, you two were such great pretenders. Little did you know, Luke was a great pretender as well.

Babbling on about the stores you planned to go to and the foods that you hoped to try, you could visibly see the tension leave Silena. Her shoulders started to sag as she became comfortable and her voice when responding to your inquiries started to relax. Once she laughed, you were at ease. 

The girl talk seemed to go on for a while, and you quickly realized you needed to meet Luke at the Dining Pavilion for an early breakfast. Bidding Silena a quick goodbye and an extra-special extra-tight hug, you gathered your belongings and neatly put them in your purse.

You spedwalk to the Pavilon, noticing you were a bit late. You arrived there soon, noticing that it was only Luke, you, and a few other older campers who had gotten up for an early breakfast. A girl from the Athena cabin waved to you, and you smiled, waving to her back.

Noticing a new presence, Luke looked up from his eggs. His demeanor changed from stoic, deep concentration, to a laidback smile that rested on his face. Walking over, his arm wrapped loosely around your waist as he squeezed it. You could see his face up close, his bright brown eyes twinkling like flying saucers from another planet. His face was angled to the sun, and you could see specks of green in his eyes. Like an aurora borealis green, he looked breathtaking, as he was beautifully sculpted by the Gods. Gods, you had never seen someone so beautiful they were lit from within.

"Good morning, Princess," he drawled, whispering in your hair. Your hair tickled your ear, and you shuddered, knowing the effect he had on you. Smirking -as he also knew the effect on you- he continued his greeting. "How was your sleep baby?"

Gods of Olympus, you loved his morning voice. It was deep and raspy, and it never failed to give you butterflies. Every day that you spent with him made you feel youthful, forever a teenager who was stupidly in love.

"Not bad, no nightmares," you excitedly responded, putting one hand on his chest. He automatically flexed, feeling your palm on his sweater. Such a silly boy, but that's why I love him.

"Mhm," he said, and you could tell he was still under a drowsy spell. He's so cute when he's tired.

"You tired, babe?" You nudged him awake. He shot up, widening his eyes as if to show you he was not dozing off on your shoulder.

"Nope, not at all!" he sassily retorted. You just looked up at him and smiled. Grabbing your hand, he led you to the Hermes table that he sat at. Looking around, you scanned the area for Chiron or Mr. D, knowing that they would immediately lecture you once they saw you sitting at the wrong table. You two had done this before, sitting at each other's tables when you weren't supposed to, but you never got caught. If you two got caught today, it would be the absolute worst.

"Sorry I was a little late," you said as you sat next to Luke. Breakfast had already been set in front of you, courtesy of Luke asking the dryads to prepare both of you breakfast. He knew what you liked to eat, and what you couldn't stand eating. Taking a bite out of your avocado toast with tomatoes and eggs, you smiled at the satisfying crunch. 

Thinking into the enchanted goblet, you wished to have hot cocoa. Magically, it appeared in your cup. A winter day deserved a winter breakfast.

"Did you sleep in because you were dreaming of me? It's not the first time it's happened you know" Luke raised an eyebrow, and you playfully smacked him on his chest. You knew exactly what he was talking about. 

A while back, a child of Hypnos was stalking your dream (as a child of Hypnos can magically appear in one's dream, that is so not fair!), and blabbed to Luke you were having a dream about him. Quite frankly, it was embarrassing, as Luke had confronted you the morning after having the dream. Your relationship was still pretty new, and you remember you turned a deep shade of beet red after hearing Luke's accusation while he smugly crossed his arms and smirked.

"No!" your face burned red although the accusation wasn't true. He pointed at your reddened cheeks and it took all your willpower not to smack him in his chest again. (Damn, his chest is hard!)

"I was talking to Silena, she was worried about me leaving camp," you said.

"Oh," Luke responded, suddenly very intrigued by his hard-boiled egg. Paying no mind to the flicker of emotion that crossed Luke's face, you continued.

"Yeah, she was worried and acting really strange for some reason. If this happens again, I might want to bring it up with Chiron," you continued.

"Why, did she say some weird stuff?" Luke curiously asked as he began to rub circles on the small of your back. Soothed, you were tempted to repeat the conversation verbatim to Luke, but you decided otherwise, remembering what Silena had said.

"No, not really. Just told me to be careful of monsters, and all of that stuff," you trailed off, hoping Luke wouldn't notice that you had hesitated to answer his question. 

But he had noticed. He had noticed that you suddenly stiffened up and stilled when he rubbed circles on your back. Something that he deliberately did, to catch you if you lied. He noticed that your eyebrows were furrowed when answering him and that you nervously twisted the gold ring your mother, Aphrodite, had given you. He noticed that you chewed on a piece of toast, longer than usual, almost choking on it after he had asked you that question. 

He noticed everything about you, the one thing that you had grown to love would soon be the thing that you would quickly loathe. He knew you too well, and he saw and felt everything that you felt.

What you did notice though, was the change in expression on Luke's face. His face hardened for a quick second, and you couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Penny for your thoughts," you questioned, sipping your warm hot cocoa.

"I just can't wait to spend the day with you, Princess," Luke said. For a moment, his smile didn't match his words. As if he realized that the image he was projecting to you didn't match the image he curated for you, he quickly brightened his smile. Luke stared at you, hoping you didn't notice his smile. He internally sighed in relief as he realized you were busy chugging the goblet of hot cocoa, too thirsty to even look at him.

"I can't wait to spend the day with you, Luke," you genuinely smiled. 

You two quickly ate the rest of your meal in silence, wanting to get the most out of the day. It was only seven in the morning (a bit too early for your taste), but you felt so alive. Looking forward, you two had the perfect view of the ocean. Although Camp Half-Blood was surrounded by protective magic, Mr. D had allowed certain weather events, such as snow, to be allowed through the barrier. This resulted in magical moments where you could see the soft snow settle on the grass of the lawn.

From your view, snow slowly fell and settled near the ocean, creating snow on the beach. The feeling that you get from being hot and cold at the same time is like looking at the snow on the beach. Snow mixing with the sand, it looked like an unreal scene, something that only happened in movies. As you two ate breakfast, the snow started to come down harder, clouding the beach in a white powder. 

Strangely, you didn't feel that cold because Luke was by your side.

In a way, you realized that you could describe Luke and your relationship as an analogy to the snow settling on the beach: It was undeniable that you and Luke were falling for each other at the same time, barreling all your love towards each other at an accelerating speed. You two crashed together in fury kisses, passionately worshipping each other every day, but especially every night. Every time you two kissed, it felt like a cataclysmic, unreal, and faded moment where you realized that you both felt the same way for each other in the same moment. It was so unreal that it felt like your little moments together belonged in a museum of emotions that were impossible to experience with someone else. Something that you only saw in the movies or on a farfetched television show. There was a nagging bit in the back of your mind that constantly reminded you that you didn't deserve to be loved. Every day, Luke dispelled that notion, feeding you love with every conversation and kiss.

Just like snow on the beach, you two were extremely different from each other, so far on other ends of the spectrum. You two were weird, but fucking beautiful together, like snow on the beach. Complimenting each other, you almost made a perfect whole.

"You ready to go to New York City, Princess," Luke said, snapping you out of your daydream as you swallowed the last piece of turkey sausage. 

"Of course, only with you," you reassured him with a cheeky smile.

In that moment, you two were frozen in time like a photograph. Laughing, you held onto his bicep as you two walked on the sandy beach to reach the barriers of camp. The snow mingled with the sand and you looked down and smiled as if you won a contest. You couldn't help it though, you had won the best prize, the love of Luke. To hide your smile would be dishonest, and you couldn't ever do that.

I was inspired by the lyrics of Snow on the Beach sung by Taylor Swift and Lana Del Rey. A lot of the latter half of the story is pulled from Genius.com and their analysis of the lyrics of this song. Hope you all enjoyed part two!

comment to be a part of the taglist for part 3!

xoxo,  cznszn 𐙚₊❤︎

© czennieszn on tumblr. do not repost, translate, plagiarize, or claim any of my works as your own.