#also i guess i should uh. tag this. for the sensitive. it's all good my buddies i just don't want you to have to read things that upset you

[margindoodles2407]

more wips for youuuu

@seeking-elsewhither

“Do you have a cigarette?”

“Fox, I don’t think smoking–”

“Do you or do you not have a cigarette?”

His voice is sharp and harsh and clipped and raw. Thorn doesn’t hear that tone often, and when he does it’s nothing good.

So he reaches into the drawer of his desk and pulls out a box. He hasn’t touched it in months, and neither has Fox, but even so it only has one stick left. He pulls it out and hands it to his brother, who puts it in his mouth and produces a lighter from one of the pouches on his belt.

His hands shake so violently that he almost drops it.

With gentle hands, Thorn takes the lighter from Fox and lights the cigarette for him. Fox looks at him reproachfully.

“Shut up. Not gonna let you burn yourself. Or worse, fumble a lit cig and torch the barracks. If you wanna deal with lung cancer down the road, that’s on you.”

Fox takes the first drag. Smoke curls from cracked, chapped lips. He says nothing.

“…Did something happen?” 

(Of course something happened.)

But still, no response. Just another deep, slow drag. He seems to relax, just a little; walks out and over to the open hangar platform and sags against the wall. 

Hesitation. 

Thorn follows him out. Puts a tentative hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t even try to shrug it off. Just sighs, a little. 

(In the brighter light of the planet-city, Thorn can make out the faint, salty residue of long-since-dried tears. Tears shed unwillingly, silently, and alone. He knows better than to pry into their origin.)

And then– Fox brings a shaky hand (oh, his hands never shake) to rest on Thorn’s, and laces their fingers together. Squeezes, gently. There’s a heartbeat, and then he buckles into his brother. Not a sound. Just complete and utter collapse.

And Thorn holds him. 

They stare out into the cityscape in silence.

[trashbins-stuff]

Hello. I have seen that you have been tagged by @neobixiscool on one of their posts. I am planning to make a rant post on them. If you can provide some background info and your side of the story, that would be great. If you feel uncomfortable discussing this, that's ok. Have a good day/evening.

rub hands together like flies. my time has come/silly 😋😋

and thank you for coming to me :3 i appreciate it/gen also i get to go all cabby on this hehe

oh and, im not really hurt-hurted by them, i feel like mocha (mochablogger), liam (moonmxple) and mac (blairdrawzstuff) are most affected. They did have a book with my character in it but in a different universe or something (without my consent nor credit btw). Anyway under the cut is my observant. Honestly i think i might have jsut make the rant post for you lmao hrgbnhe 😭😭

the background/before:

mocha was working on a little story and xe said we could be in it! so obviously me and my friends signed up for the fun, not really expecting anything, the story was called "The Traumatized Cup", thats when we first meet him.

In one of the chapter mocha had introduced rubix, at first i didnt really think much about him, i was just aware of his presence, i do notice him and mocha started to become friends and i thought that was great :)

something that you should probably contact cuppy for more info:

so rubix (or according to rubix, "jasp" was roleplaying) and mocha were friends on facebook, and they roleplayed there i think, this i just know but apparently he said crap about liam (mocha's platonic partner and my best friend). Mocha is very sensitive and even in roleplay xe's still uncomfortable with what rubix said

"bezel's" divorce headcanon (and possible influence on further problems):

i heard people talked about it but never knew where it came from, but thne i found out and,,

tdlr; 1st one is about mocha and rubix, i dont know if mocha consent to it. 2nd one is uh a bit weird i i guess like he could have ask facemoji to make another one ;-;. 3rd ah yes the divorce that i had heard about!/vneg

rubix said bezel forced him into making the 1st one, even if thats true, rubix said the divorce was bezel's headcanon but hes the one that decided to post the 3rd one ("okay i asked facemoji again..")

seem kinda sus not gonna lie..but what do i nose right :-)

bezel probably influence more but even after all these months im still not sure if he really did do those things, idk lul, it is pretty weird that bezel's blog was a sideblog though (liam told me)

heres a bunch of words with link attach, those r my opinions lmao:

these u can just click to read so i hope thats okay

on wattpad he have a book in which he painted mocha, hazel and blair as manipulative (admittedly his writing was good, he could have used it for something different though)

he also uses some of our characters (such as mocha cuppy, hazel, blair, harp, blueberry, winter, bin (mine btw), seedling, galaxy journal,...etc) he did the delete that book tho, anyway heres more screenshot proof (credit @moonmxple )

mocha asked liam and neobix said its cringe

i remember this one also

the one where he tried to ban pet name and online dating (in 2023) (check the comment and other reblogs also theres alot, its practically a goldmine/silly)

and can i say he barely knows our friend group? like sure he knows mocha but hes trying to fit into our group (very poorly)

please read what cass wrote in the comment (thanks cass for speaking out about it ily)

the ask i sent him

NOT to get all bitchy here but mocha blocked you therefore you literally dont appear anywhere on xer dash, you're out of xer life and xe had no reason to pester you, not everything has to be about mocha. You guy's relationship (or supposedly lack there of) had change but honestly? thats okay they dont have to like the same people that they liked yesterday. You might think you know that's them but it wasnt, mocha in real life is kinder and better than the version inside of your head and they're happier now and its so sad that you cant see (because you're blocked)

and again, not everything has to be about YOU

he also made it all about HIM like excuse me ???? can i not complain for little bit without you coming in and nag about your problem ??? if you're suffering go talk to someone dont talk to online strangers ??? :)))???????

bro cant even read a long paragraph post like go back to elementary school lmao, also reporting ppl just because they use their right to not forgive you is such a sore loser move, it make you sound like petty six year old (also max be spitting facts tho)

bro brought out HIS right (reporting mocha, which he actually cant do if he doesnt have a valid reason) while ignore MOCHA's right (not forgiving him, which isnt a valid reason for him to report xem). The definition of petty is literally complain way too much about unimportant things that could have and should have ended already

"you dont have to relate to everything you see on the internet, somethings are simply not about you" :)

did you know that to report someone you have to click alot of buttons??

common salad W <3333

oh yeah, this doesnt have links but jasp/neobix is being so casual abt bezel's death but also uses it as a way to make people feel bad for getting upset with what he did

Sorry for playing the dickhead role, but you wouldn't be laughing if you knew how we felt about every single one of you. (why it sound serious all the sudden lol)

why i still doubt (uh and heads up, galaxy brush, kodu, cuppy,..others who think @/rubixisanidi0t was saying the truth, im not saying he isnt but you cant blame me for not trusting can you? please skip this part if you're sensitive):

naw so if this was suppose to be jasp then whats jasp motive lmao :/..he dont gain anything from this + who tell people their secret plan publicly?? + how did jasp know about rubixs hallucination?? rubix please dont tell such personal things to jsut your friends and please just talk to an adult in real life. And jasp, dont let these kind of things on the internet its not safe/srs

this is just straight up weird and also why did neobix/jasp said "old friend" like hes rubix?? when he supposedly told rubix and i quote "yeah.. Soo.... This person named @/mochablogger seemed like some cool person, and when I tried to talk with them... Nothing happened, so when I figured they didn't care... It all happened at once." neobix/jasp and mocha werent even friend to begin with why was he SO obssess over getting mochas forgiveness when they supposedly barely interact much??

aint it a bit weird how this is supposedly jasp/neobix but why would they make this video??? it???doesnt make any sense?? and like were rubix and jasp still good friend??? why wood bezel make jasp of all people do it??? unless yk

HOL UP, WAIT A MINUTE..if rose jelly dated rubix but rubix tunred out to be jasp then..WHO IS ROSE JELLY ACTUALLY DATING??????

if @/neobixiscool is suppose to be jasp then how did he get a screenshot for a show rubix was making???

i translated it and head up. it has death threat in it

you know, if someone stole my account and ruin my reputation i wouldnt be following them and be mutuals with them :)

i appreciate him saying hell save us but like..why would @/neobixiscool linked the real rubix's yt and discord knowing full well that the real rubix was there and could told joiners the truth??? that seem kinda dumb ngl also on the channel you can find a video called "waitng for forgiveness" which @/neobixiscool had talked about. and lets do a bit of timing here, if rubix really was telling the truth and havent been on social media since his alst post on @/rubixcuix (last posted in august) and the divorce arc and the roleplay thing and EVERYTHING had started in september, and if the yt belonged to rubix, then he shouldnt have known that mocha didnt forgive him and make that video????? bc he wasnt suppose to be there since august??? bc if anything he shouldnt be waiting for forgiveness bc if jasp really did steal his tumblr account then its not his fault?? like i find it absoltuely HILARIOUS that the evidence agaisnt what rubix said was on both the account @/neobixiscool AND @/rubixisanidi0t's PINNED post?? and it boggles my mind how no one talks abt this???/lh/nm i mean its quite obvious maybe im jsut really observant though idk

if you got your account stolen and jasp supposedly brought back a wattpad book, i dont think you should be continuing it?? and didnt you said your reported him on wattpad?? on the same account where the book is?? why are you acting like "yes i did promise them this and im fully aware of what happen even though i supposedly havent been here since august and i will continue this book" has it hit you?

uh yeah so these are just my silly little takes, but hey! what do i nose? :-)

[ktisherelol]

Finally ~ Ricky Bowen X Reader

Summary: Y/n is trying to lose her V card, trying to find the right guys and all. Ricky has been in love with Y/n for a long time. Y/n tries to get with a guy, which fails miserably. Then, Ricky and Y/n meet, and things get heated.

Pairing: Ricky Bowen X fem reader. (Change if u want)

Warnings: Strong language, inappropriate touching, and smut.

Tags: None, I ain't popular, but lmk if u wanna be added.

Notes: K, so, I actually wrote this whole chapter, and Tumblr deleted it. Now I have to rewrite it. Like wtf?

"Are you coming over today?" asked Emma, she and I had been friends since Kindergarten.

"Is it ok if I don't? I'm meeting up with Ethan, and we might get things heated," I said

"All you talk about is Ethan. Ethan, Ethan, Ethan, like he isn't even that good, he's an F-boy, you deserve better. How about Peter? He's cute and single!" said Emma

"Isn't he gay?" I asked

"*Sigh* true. You do you,'' said Emma, going back to her house.

I then thought about it and decided to call Ethan.

I ran his line, and he picked up on the 3rd ring, "Hello?"

"Hey, Ethan!" I said

"Hey... Uhm, who is this?" asked Ethan.

Is he fr?

"Uh, it's Y/n," I said

"Oh... OH! Y/n, hey cutie, how are you?" asked Ethan

"I'm good... How bout you?" I asked

"I'm good. So, uh, what's up?" he asked

"I wanted to say... Wanna hang out today?" I asked

"Uh... Sure, how about in... An hour?" asked Ethan... Sounds fishy...

"Babyyy, come back?" I heard a voice

"Who was that?" I asked

"Oh, that-- That was my mom, she still calls me baby, like omg stop," said Ethan

"Alright. I guess I'll see you soon?" I asked

"Sure. Bye, babe," he said, as he hung up

I'm not letting this slide. That did not sound like his mom. Moms don't moan while saying "baby".

I'm showing up early by 15 minutes, I'm going to see what he's up to.

I mean he said he likes me, like a couple days ago. Who would get mad about the person they like showing up a little early?

~15 Mins Later~

I went to Ethan's house, and knocked on the door. Also rang the doorbell in case he didn't hear.

"I'm coming!" I heard, and smiled

After a few seconds, Ethan opened the door, his expressionless face turned into a shocked face, "Y/n? What are you doing here?"

"I just decided to show up a little early. Why is something wrong?" I asked

"Uh... I'm kind of busy..." said Ethan

"Ethan... Who are you talking to?" I heard a voice say

"That was definitely not your mom. What's going on?" I asked

"Uhh... Y/n, how about you go for today, and we can hang out some other time. Just you and me? Sound good," asked Ethan

I scoffed, shaking my head, "No, what the fuck is this?" I got in the house to see a half naked girl on the couch...

Katelyn??? The school's popular girl?

"Um, who the fuck are you?" asked Katelyn

"I was supposed to be hanging with Ethan today, well, he seems busy," I said

"Y/n, I'm sorry. Uh... How about I make it up to you, tomorrow?" smirked Ethan

"Hello? I'm right here!" said Katelyn

"I can see that," said Ethan

"You said you liked me..." I said

"And I do. Why are you being so awkward?" asked Ethan

"You call this awkward? You're the one hooking up with Katelyn, and also expecting to hang out with me! It would have been better if you just said no," I said

"Uh... Sorry? Should I make it up to you or no?" asked Ethan

"You're so stupid. Come on, Katelyn, we can do better than this punk," I said

"Uhh... I don't even know you. Besides, I'm horny, so I'm staying. Chop chop outta here," said Katelyn, unbuttoning Ethan's shirt.

"Ok, so you're both hoes. Got it. Have fun," I said, sarcastically

"Oh, we will," said Katelyn, biting her lip at Ethan.

"Whores," I said, getting outta Ethan's place.

I'm a pretty sensitive person when it comes to being stood up, boys, or just things. I'm new to it, but not at the same time.

Don't cry. Don't cry. A guy was about to play you, did you expect it? Yes, well... No. But don't cry!! They're stupid. They always do the same crap.

They don't deserve you, you deserve bette than an f-boy. Gosh, Emma was right. I have to start listening!

"Y/n?" a voice cut me off, I looked to see... Ricky Bowen?

"Hey, Ricky. What's up?" I asked, tears almost spilling out of my eyes

"Whoa, are you ok? Your eyes are red," he said

"I'm fine. Or uhh, I will be," I said, my voice cracking the slightest bit as tears threatened to get out.

"Here, come inside. My parents are out," he said, as he got me in his house, and into his room.

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

"So... What's bothering you?" asked Ricky.

"There was this guy... I thought he liked me, and we were supposed to hang out, but when I went to his place I saw some half naked girl on the couch, who was Katelyn, by the way. Gosh she's such a hoe. How is she popular?" I asked

"I'm sorry to hear that. You deserve better than him," said Ricky

"That's what I get for trying to lose it. I'm so sick of being a virgin, I get horny a lot... And I'm not even a good masturbather! Gosh, I'm 16, well, basically 17, but I wanna lose it so bad," I said

Ricky paused... "Remember in 5th grade? When I liked you?"

"You did? Haha, I thought you were pretty cute," I said

"Really?" he asked, I nodded.

"Do you uh... Still think that?" asked Ricky

"I mean, if someone asked me smash or pass, I'd say smash," I said

Ricky smirked, "What if I said... I never stopped?"

"Oh... For real?" I asked, he smiled and nodded

"I honestly... Don't know what to say. A part of me kind of wants to like you back, but the other part doesn't know what the fuck to do. Gosh life is filled with drama," I said

Third Person POV:

Ricky scooted closer to Y/n, "Yeah. You just gotta see where it leads you, and make smart choices." he cupped ran his thumb across her cheek without knowing.

Y/n looked up and blushed the slightest bit. He's got pretty eyes, she thought.

Ricky's eyes travelled to her lips. He'd been in love with her for a long time, and wanted to kiss her so bad.

They were getting closer without knowing, every second. Ricky wanted to just close the space and Y/n was thinking, Maybe I should kiss him? I mean, I should give him a try, he can't be that bad...

I don't want to play with his feelings, at the same time, I kind of wanna give in, but I don't kno--, thought Y/n, but then Ricky closed the space between them and they kissed.

Wow... Y/n's first kiss. It felt magical, honestly. She was kissing a cute guy. And the cute guy really liked her.

Did she like him? Kinda? She needed to figure it out, so she did it. She gave in.

On the other hand, Ricky was living his dream, he was thinking, chill, we're just kissing, but no. There could be more.

Ricky pulled Y/n closer, and she got onto his lap. Ricky was getting harder each second, he gripped her ass and licked her lower lip for entrance, which she granted.

Ricky's tongue explored her mouth, she's perfect, he thought.

Y/n moaned into Ricky's mouth as he groaned into hers.

Ricky started to move Y/n up and down on his lap, Y/n noticed he was getting hard and smirked.

Ricky then switched their positions and made Y/n be the bottom, as he went on top of her and started kissing down her neck, looking for her weak spot, which he found and nibbed at it. Leaving a few hickeys.

Y/n moaned and tugged on Ricky's hair, making him groan.

Ricky reached to the ends of Y/n's shirt, eventually taking it off and doing the same with his own.

Y/n took a moment to stare at Ricky's abs, running her fingers down his stomach.

"Like what you see?" he smirked, Y/n nodded.

Ricky then took a moment to look at Y/n's chest. They were average size, but also looked filled and squishy, he attacked them with his mouth, leaving kisses and hickeys before getting permission from Y/n to take it off. Which she accepted.

After a little, when he was done with her chest, he moved back up to her neck, then got one of his "needy" hands, and put it inside her underwear, slowly drawing little circles on her clit, making her moan.

"You haven't been ripped yet, right?" he asked, she shook her head

"You know you don't have to do this," said Ricky, she gave him a small smile, "I want to."

"Can you handle 2 fingers?" asked Ricky

"I don't know. But I'll try," she said, Ricky smiled, and inserted 2 fingers slowly, Y/n moaned, moving her hips signaling that she wanted more.

"You like that?" he asked, she moaned and nodded. He went a little faster, causing her to moan more.

He went faster and faster, til she couldn't take it anymore.

It won't hurt as much, Y/n thought. I've been a little stretched now.

"Can I take it off?" asked Ricky, Y/n nodded.

Ricky removed Y/n's underwear, and took a moment to look at her pussy. He was getting super hungry, but Y/n decided to speak up.

"Ricky..."

"Yeah?"

"I need you..."

"To do what?" he smirked

"Get inside me," said Y/n

"As you wish," he said, as he took off his boxers, revealing his super hard dick that was taking him a lotta effort to not get more hard.

"Whoa," said Y/n

"You like it?" he asked, she nodded

"You're big," she said, he laughed, and pecked her lips

"Tell me if it hurts too much," said Ricky, Y/n nodded. But she was so horny at this point, that when Ricky entered her, she felt pain, but it was numb.

Ricky entered her slowly, but fast. Y/n moaned, and he started to go in and out of her.

The room filled with moans and groans

"Faster," Y/n said, and Ricky did as she said.

After a minute of going in and out, "I'm close," said Ricky

"Me too," said Y/n, feeling the liquid form inside of her

"Cum on me, babe," said Ricky, Y/n smiled as she felt her liquid coming to the tip of her pussy. She held it in a few seconds because of the pleasure. However, Ricky was desperate.

He went faster and faster, making Y/n moan more.

"Please. Cum on me, I wanna feel you on me. I know it sounds like total cringe but I wanna feel you so ba-- AAGHH," moaned Ricky as his Y/n's walls tightened up around him, and she cummed, causing Ricky to do the same

He then pulled out of her, and they cleaned themselves up.

~5 minutes later~

"That was good," said Ricky, laying down next to Y/n.

"Yeah," she said, putting her head on his chest, as Ricky blushed and put an arm around her.

"So... What are we? Just fuck buddies, or is this gonna be a 1 night stand?" he asked, secretly hoping she'd accept him as a boyfriend instead.

"Well... I don't know about you, but-- I mean, you being my first time. This meant something to me..." said Y/n

"Well... Do you wanna be my girlfriend then?" asked Ricky, Y/n went silent, thinking about it.

"Shit, sorry. That was a stupid question, I mean you barely know me and--" Ricky trailed off

"Sure," Y/n smiled

"--and you're probably thinking that I'm one of those guys that just use girls for his needs and the next day-- wait... What did you say?" asked Ricky

"I said, sure," said Y/n, smiling

"So... We are dating?" asked Ricky

"Yeah, I mean, I barely know you, but I don't not know you. You're cute, and... Maybe this could work," she said

"Well, from what I know about you, we have a lot in common," Ricky smiled, and Y/n did too.

"Rick! I'm home!" a guy screamed, probably his dad.

"Ok! I have my girlfriend over, if that's ok," said Ricky, looking down at y/n who laughed

"Alright. Glad you were able to move on," said his dad.

"Hey, uh, is it ok if she spends the night?" asked Ricky

"It's fine by me," said his dad, Ricky smiled kissing Y/n's forehead.

Y/n POV:

So... I finally found my guy, Ricky and I are dating now. Let's see where this goes, lol.

Ricky POV:

Best. Day. Ever.

I finally got the girl of my dreams. I'll do anything it takes to not lose her.

Pt. 2?

[vendettaparker]

What a Dumbass [P.P]

Summary: Peter’s mistake leads to you being injured. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Swearing, like a substantial amount, suggestive content kinda, gun shot wound, and flustered!Peter 

a/n: I really liked writing this. I couldn’t stop laughing at some of the dialogue. and the mistake peter made to cause the whole set-up of the story is so funny to me. like i can legit see him making this mistake. also, i’m gonna make a permanent tag list, so please send me an ask or message me if you want to be on it! <3

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Peter Benjamin Parker is a fucking dumbass. All the time mostly. Most of the time his dumbassery leads to a lot of annoyed avengers, a lot of clean up, and a lot of spilled secrets. Hence why like three people who definitely shouldn’t know he is Spider-man do. But every once in while his idiocy can lead to an unexpected happily ever after, at least until he fucks something up again. 

     This particular fuck up has yet to be determined as a happy accident or your new 13th reason. It all started when that spider bitch decided it’d be a good idea to watch some explicit content on his laptop. Now, this wasn’t particularly an unknown activity for him to partake in, since we all know about his little impromptu purchase in Germany, but unbeknownst to this dork, his aunt was in the next room over working on a tear in his suit. And to make matters worse, he accidentally just so happened to purchase a subscription using said aunt’s credit card that was pre-setup in his laptop. 

     Now May is a very understanding woman. Very sex-positive, very loving, and inclusive; the whole shebang really. So when she happened to catch this idiot doing what he most certainly shouldn’t have been doing, she wasn’t mad, just thoroughly disturbed. Then she got the notification about the purchase. That was a bit more taboo in her eyes. So Peter was grounded from patrolling for a week and his laptop privileges were revoked for two weeks. That was fucking merciful compared to what this whole fuck up put you through. 

     At the school that following Monday, Peter spent the whole first, second, fourth, and lunch period trying to convince you to take over patrol for a week. Sure, you could definitely handle it, not to pat yourself on the back or anything, but you were significantly stronger than Peter, so it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But you just really didn’t want to. Peter had his ‘Peter Tingle’ to help him find danger, while you’d actually have to look. It just seemed harder for you to do than it would be for him. 

     “Why are you even grounded?” You sighed after Peter's 3rd time bringing up the possibility of you patrolling for him at lunch. 

     “He got caught watching and buying p—” Ned started laughing.

     “Ned! Shut up!” Peter yelled, slapping his hand over his friend's mouth. 

     “How has your identity not been leaked yet, Jesus Christ.” You mumbled, giggling. You flipped through your chemistry textbook, writing notes to prepare for Friday’s quiz. 

     “Yeah, and how come you didn’t know May was home?” Ned pushed Peter’s hand away. “Where was your ‘Peter Tingle’ then?” 

     “She’s not a threat, dude. But shit, I really wish my tingle detected her.” Peter groaned, a deep blush covering his features. “Please (Y/N). I really, really don’t wanna leave Queens without any protection for a week. I’ll try to convince May to let me go out on the weekend, so really it’s only five days.” 

     “I guess I could help you out, but you owe me. I should really spend this time studying for my chemistry test. Iron bitch is gonna have my head on a spike if I fail another chem test.” You said, highlighting more notes. 

     “Okay! Delmar’s for a week, anytime, anywhere.” Peter said putting his hand out for you to shake. 

     “Make it a month, I know my worth.” 

     Peter hesitated, but eventually gave in, “Fine, but you better do a good job.” 

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     So now you were stuck patrolling from 8:30 to 11:00 every night. It wasn't bad per se, and nothing too eventful happened. You stopped a small convenience store robbery, gave a few kids some tips at the skatepark, ran some errands for an old lady, and saved a cat from a tree. Thursday night was the real kicker though. Your night had barely started and you accidentally got in the middle of a drug deal between some smaller mob and a real messed-up junkie. This should’ve been an easy takedown, only six people in total that needed to be taken out, but like was mentioned before, you don’t have Peter’s goddamn, stupid fucking tingle. So after taking all six of the perps out you started to walk away after alerting the police. Unfortunately, one of those assclowns had come to, and grabbed the gun a few feet away from him and shot it towards you. The bullet went through your thigh and out the other side. Screaming in shock and pain, you used your own throwing knives and knocked the gun out of the mobster’s hand, then you proceeded to knock him out again with a few good punches to his noggin, maybe a few more, just for good measure. But this wound would need to be cleaned and stitched up. And if you went back to the Tower, Steve and Tony would give you an earful about “watching your surroundings” and “being more careful”. So in a moment of pure adrenaline and desperation, you texted Peter. 

You: are you home

Spider-Dork: Yeah, why?

You: i’ll be there in 5 

Spider-Dork: What? Why? Is everything ok?

Spider-Dork: Hello??? (Y/N)????

(Y/N) declined (3) calls 

Spider-Dork: Answer my calls idiot. 

     Peter’s texting and constant calling was cut short from a crash in his room. 

     “(Y/N)? Is that you?” Peter called from the couch in the living room. 

     “Yeah, can I borrow a t-shirt?” You called, fumbling around accidentally knocking over another lamp. “Oops, sorry!”

     “Uh, yeah sure. In the closet!” Peter called back pausing his show, prepared to make his way over to you. 

     “And some sweats?” You called back, blood dripping all over Peter’s hardwood floor. 

     Peter got up to make his way to his room. “Yeah, second drawer on the left side.” He said as he made his way to his bedroom. Knowing you were in there, most likely changing, he knocked. “You decent?” 

     “Nope, not really. I need a pair of your boxers too, though.” You called through the door, now seeing that the blood splattered on your underwear as well. “Also, bring the first aid kit when you come in.” 

     ‘What? Why?” Peter said in a more stressed tone, pushing his way into the room, completely ignoring the fact that you were very much not decent. “Holy shit.” He said seeing you out of your suit, in your bra and underwear, blood dripping down your right leg, pooling onto the floor. Your hand, red and bloody, pressed onto what he only assumed was the wound and blood seeping through your fingers. 

     “Bring a mop too.” 

     Peter ran out of the room to grab the first aid kit, plus some extra bandages and a cleaning solution. When he came back in he found you in the same state, standing in the middle of the room, eyebrows furrowed in pain, clutching your right thigh. 

     “What the hell happened?” He gasped, motioning for you to sit on his bed. You hesitated, not wanting to mess up his sheets. He seemed to notice your thought process quickly adding, “I have to wash my sheets anyway.” 

     “Gross.” You mumbled, scrunching up your face in disgust and finally settling down on his bed. 

     “Move your hand and tell me what happened,” Peter said kneeling on the floor next to the bed, positioned right at your hips. You removed your hand, bloody instantly seeping onto the bed. Peter winced looking at the hole in your leg, quickly grabbing the peroxide and dumping heaps of it onto your leg, much to your distaste. 

     “I got shot.” You stated as he cleaned the blood around the hole with alcohol pads.

     “Well, no shit. I mean by who and how?” 

     “Mobster. Sneaky bitch got me while I was walking away.” You winced as Peter inspected the wound further. 

     “I need to stitch this up. Did it go all the way through?” He said lifting your leg to look underneath for an exit wound. 

     “Yeah.” Peter found the exit wound and held your leg up with one hand, pouring peroxide on the back of your thigh with the other. 

     “You have to be more careful, (Y/N)! This looks really nasty.” Peter scolded, setting your leg back down and prepping the needle and sutures. “What if this was in your chest? Or—or if you didn’t get here in time? You could’ve bled out!” 

     “Well sorry that I don’t have your stupid tingle to help me out when I’m being fucking shot at!” You yelped, gripping the bedsheets. 

     “You don’t need spidey sense, you need fucking common sense,” Peter mumbled, stitching his first suture.

     “What the fuck did you just say?” You looked at him incredulously. 

     “I— uh, nothing.” Peter huffed, focusing back on stitching you up.

     “This is your all your fault, to begin with!” You accused, shifting uncomfortably, due to the needle constantly being stuck into your leg. “You’re the one that begged me to go on patrol for you! You’re the dumb bitch that got caught watc—” 

     “Ok! Shut up! For God’s sake, you’re never gonna let me live that down.” Peter groaned, finishing up the last stitch. “Flip over.” He commanded, pushing at the side of your waist to help with the movement. 

     “Well, it was fucking dumb. Don’t you check to make sure nobody’s home? God, we all know you’re a vocal bitch too.” You said, fully situated on your stomach. 

     “What the fuck is that suppose to mean!?” He gasped, prepping another needle. 

     “You’re a sensitive boy.” You shrugged, wincing when Peter started his next stitch. 

     “I-I am not sensitive! I’m emotionally and physically staunch!” He defended, going in for another stitch. 

     You just raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Sure, whatever you say, babe.” You winked at him, blowing an exaggerated kiss. 

     “You're a jerk,” Peter mumbled, finishing up his stitching job. “A jerk with a fucked up leg.” 

     You hummed, quite amused. Peter got up and started to collect his medical supplies. He shuffled out of the room to put everything away. When he returned you were trying to get up and walk, wincing at every slight movement. 

     “Here, let me just—” Peter lifted you up, bridal style. A small yelp coming from you when a sharp pain shot through your leg. “Sorry.”

     “It’s fine. Can you help me get dressed?” You said as he walked you over to his desk and set you down in his desk chair. 

     “Sure.” Peter blushed, painfully aware of your lack of clothes. He picked out some clothes from his closet and drawers. He helped you into them, wallowing in the uncomfortable silence, taking in each whimper and wince from you whenever he brushed against your thigh. 

     “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He sighed after you were all dressed. “This is my fault.” 

     You looked at his distraught face, feeling bad for initially blaming him for the events of tonight. “No, Pete. It’s fine. I should’ve made sure all of the guys were knocked out.” You put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

     “No, I should’ve been more careful when I was watching that stuff. I have my spidey sense, I would’ve been able to avoid getting shot. It’s not your fault that you didn’t get bit by a radioactive spider.”

     “Pete, really, I’ll be better by next week anyway. It’s fine.” 

     Peter shook his head, sighing. “I just feel so bad, I shouldn’t have forced patrolling on you.” You hugged him and rubbed his back soothingly. “It’s my fault you got hurt.” 

     “Peter stop. It’s just an unfortunate accident.” You mumbled, hugging him closer. “It could’ve happened to anyone.”

     “But it didn’t happen to just anyone (Y/N), it happened to you. And I caused it. I-I don't know what I’d do if something ever happened to you. What if it was worse?”

     You sighed, pulling away from Peter and cupping his face, seeing the regret and shame pooling in his eyes. Without much thought, you pulled him closer, slowly connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. Truly getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the feeling of perfection. 

     Peter’s eyes widened in shock for a moment, before he was kissing you back, reveling in the feeling he’s been dreaming about for months. You finally pulled away to catch your breath. Peter flushed at your actions, unable to stop the wide smile crossing his features. 

     “Sorry,” You mumbled sheepishly, “just needed to shut you up for a second.”

     “Maybe I should talk more, just to see what happens,” Peter smirked, pulling you in for another shorter, but just as sweet, kiss. 

     You hummed against his lips. “I really like you. Even when you're a dumbass.” You sighed against his lips.

     “The feeling is mutual.” 

     “Rude. I’m not a dumbass.” You gasped in faux offense. 

     “You’re the one with a bullet wound.” he deadpanned 

     “You’re the one who got caught watchin—”

     “(Y/N)!”

[the-squeege]

i was writing down some notes for my infected!leon and this came to me

uh before I ramble holy shit thank you all for your nice comments and tags I REALLY APPRECIATE IT!! I was not expecting people other than me to enjoy him 👉👈

So! Here are my silly little notes about him!

- the reason for this meme is he gets cold pretty easy despite all his plating! so if youre cold, he is cold. And you should take care of him.

-addition to this. His bug instincts kick in and he loves being cocooned in blankets…I just think it’s really cute….lil bundle of bug….

- the general story I have really isn’t tooooo different from 4…I mean aside from the big 7 foot bug in the room.

- leon doesn’t gradually turn…he just fuckin. Goes. It’s soon after he meets Ashley, when they’re escaping something triggers his form to fuck up and go nuts. I mean he’s lucid but uh. His form…

- when he first transforms, he can’t communicate outside of clicks and chitters and general bug sounds. he gets frustrated by this pretty quick, especially since he has to try and convince ashley that he’s not gonna kill her

- Ashley is freaking the fuck out at this point. I should mention when Leon transforms he just. Grabs ashley and takes them to safety so to Ashley that’s uh. Pretty fucking terrifying.

-I’m not sure how, but somehow Leon convinces her he’s still lucid. Probably doing something sweet…Leon doesn’t know what he looks like and he really doesn’t wanna know, he just knows he’s uh. Pretty scary. (I think he’s cute though)

- a quick note about ashley since she kinda bothers me sometimes! She’s a lot nicer to leon in this au cause she can see this poor guy is going through some shit. She feels guilty she lead leon into this situation :(

- when the two meet up with Luis (WHO LIVES IN THIS AU SO HE CAN HELP LEON AFTERWARDS) he gives Leon the pills that’ll help slow the infection. he sits leon the fuck down and helps him regain his speech and bipedal movement (since his legs were too wonky for him to even try walking/running normally) He also gives Leon a jacket because this poor bug is fucking cold

- after he can walk and kinda talk again, leon tries to carry on like normal. he can still use guns pretty decently all things considered but the harder things get, the more likely his new body is to revert back to bug stuff (since human stuff takes a little extra effort now!)

- this leads me to some more general notes about Leon since tbh I’m bad at writing story stuff! So

- he chitters and clicks a whole lot, even when he’s talking!

- since his face isn’t super expressive, there are other ways of telling his emotions. his bug noises are a sure indicator of this, as well as his antennae and quills, which can lower and flatten. functionally they’re kinda like whiskers, they help leon sense things

- he’s super great at seeing in the dark. unfortunately though this means he’s pretty sensitive to light and gets headaches because of it :(

- this bug is fucking FAST. his legs are real powerful and good at jumping so he can zip around pretty quick and is a very talented climber. he may be existentially mortified but at least he can have fun running and jumping around!

- as for how Leon’s feeling he’s uh. Hanging in there! he’s ashamed and horrified of what he is but at least while he’s dealing with all the shit in 4 he’s kinda able to push these feelings aside so he can focus on protecting Ashley.

- he knows he’s pretty spooky looking so he acts a little nicer/more affectionate to others because he doesn’t wanna scare them :(

- throughout his journey, people like salazar will demean and mock him and be like “oh you’re really one of us now…” and tbh it makes leon feel kinda shitty! But Ashley and Luis (since he’s alive and sometimes shows up I guess) come to his aid and are like no! No mean to him! And through the power of friendship Leon makes it through okay :)

- the infection never really spreads to his brain so he doesn’t get too feral…sure he’ll get stressed and maybe go on all fours or forget how to speak for a little bit but nothing too crazy…any sort of feral he goes is based on his own choices and emotions… but for the most part he’s really docile and kinda sad

I think those are most of the notes I have so far…..I wasn’t planning on actually posting a lot of these but since y’all seem to like him….. I am happy to share the brainrot….

[duuhrayliegh]

male chivalry

warnings: okay so there is a trigger warning of sexual harassment and attempted sexual assault, language, men being gross, protective!bucky, angst a bit, i think that’s it, if you see anything else let me know

word count: 3230 :)

a/n: idk why it took me so long to finish this, but it’s here now!!! also this is based off this post from @teaboot (just the op bc the rest of it pissed me off :)) i hope y’all like it. i hope it’s what y’all expected idk, i’m proud of it.

i really hope i did the topics justice, if you don’t think i did, please shoot me a message and help me figure out how to do better. <3

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open! also this is not beta read, so all mistakes are my own.

xoxo ray

ray’s m.list

************************************

It had been about three weeks since Bucky had first met the group of four at the protest. Bucky made sure to check in with Steve and let him know what he was doing. Steve was always worrying about Bucky, which was totally understandable because of everything they had been through.

Bucky’s day was a relaxed one with little to no time to dawdle. Over these three weeks, he had learned more from an eighteen year old than he ever thought he would. It was easier to open up to her, for some reason. Bucky hadn’t fully figured that out yet either, but he wasn’t going to question it.

Bucky had been going to his court mandated therapy with Dr. Raynor, to say they were making progress would be a lie. Honestly, Bucky was making more progress with the new individuals in his life. They knew what he did as the Winter Soldier-- no they know what the Winter Soldier did, Cassie made sure the distinction between the two was crystal clear. Bucky was still a bit cautious around them, not wanting to hurt them or be a burden to them.

It amazed Bucky how open they were with each other. Back in the 40’s, you didn’t express your feelings. Especially if you were a man, for fear of being labeled something unsavory. Even stranger still to Bucky was the encouragement and support that everyone gave to those in hard times. It warmed Bucky’s heart to see Penny comforting Freddie after his recent break up.

“Freddie and Ted had been together a little over six months,” Cassie explained to Bucky one night after the group had dispersed from the dining table. Bucky and Cassie were standing over the sink washing the dinner plates and cutlery. “Freddie was so in love with him. I thought Ted felt the same, but I guess that’s just how it goes, right?”

Bucky shrugged, this was one of his first experiences with modern romance. Dating in the 40’s was very rigid, which was to be expected, but nowadays everything is very fluid. It truly fascinated Bucky.

“I honestly don’t know.” Bucky shrugged as he dried the pristine plates. Just as he began to get lost in thought, Evie pulled him into a subject that he hadn’t thought of in a real long time.

“What was it like with women in the forties, Buck?” Bucky blinked at her and considered his answer carefully. The group had been teaching him how to handle some subjects sensitively.

“To be honest? The last date that I went on was to the World Expo of Tomorrow in 1943, the night before I shipped out to England.” He turned, leaning his weight on the counter behind him and crossing his arms over his chest. “I went with Steve, this was before he was Captain America, so when he was a little ol’ gangly thing. I had hooked us up with two women, one for me and one for Stevie, their names were Dot and Connie, I think.”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean, Buck. What was it like with women?”

Bucky tilted his head in question.“What do you mean?”

“What was it like with them? Like, how were they treated as a whole?”

“Oh, uh I think they were treated well? My Ma always told Steve and I to treat women with respect, so we did.”

“Right, but what about everyone else? How did they treat women?” Bucky was confused by the question and he began to think that he was giving the wrong answers.

“Um, I guess I don’t know. I guess they were treated how they are today?” Both of the girls in front of him released disdained scoffs.

“Well, that’s unfortunate, right Cas?” Cassie nodded at Evie and dropped her head in disappointment.

“Why do you say that?” Bucky asked. He was genuinely curious about what the girls were referring to. “I mean, I get that the treatment of women hasn’t always been good but it’s not that bad right?” The girls shared a knowing look, and then Evie sighed. She hauled herself out of her chair and nodded to Bucky.

“Alright, let’s go take a walk, just you and me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Oh, just a couple blocks away to the Walgreens. Sound okay?” Bucky agreed, grabbing his jacket and waiting for Evie by the doorway. “We’ll be back soon, Cas.”

“Uh, are you sure that’s a good idea, Evelyn?” Bucky had only ever heard Cassie use Evie’s full name when she was getting in trouble.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine, Cas, I swear.” Evie glanced at Bucky, “Besides, I’ve got a Sargent escorting me, so we’ve got nothing to worry about.” She threw a smile to her older sister whose face was just a veil of worry and doubt.

Bucky and Evie exited the apartment building and neither of them had said anything since. Bucky was wondering what this whole exercise was all about, but he wasn’t going to say anything until Evie did. The pair walked up onto a crosswalk, causing them to stop and wait so Evie was able to turn the man beside her.

“So, before we go any further, I just want to set the scene for you.” She took a calming breath and it was now that Bucky realized that this was the first time that she was noticeably scared. His brows furrowed and he nodded as she continued. “It’s ten o’clock on a Wednesday night and you’re in Brooklyn, walking to your local Walgreens because you need tampons.” Bucky huffed out a small laugh as Evie playfully glared at the man.

“Yeah, yeah. The female menstrual cycle is hilarious as is the pink tax that is put on feminine hygiene products. Laugh it up, James.” She shook her head and pulled Bucky closer to the front of a building. “I’m trying to tell you something, ya asshole. So, you see that it’s dark outside because it’s late but you decide to risk it anyway because you have a flight to catch at four the next morning. You leave your apartment and you are greeted with this.” She gestured to the expanse in front of her.

“Alright, let’s go. And just a word of wisdom real quick before we really get going. Women are considered fragile but I’ve never seen anything as easily wounded as a man’s ego.”

“Wow, that’s quite a pearl.” Bucky caught up to Evie as she made her way down the street.

“So being a woman and even more so, being a woman at night, means that you have to constantly be on guard.” As they were walking, a man in a greasy white tank top passed them. The man’s head turned and he scanned Evie’s body.

“Goddamn, that’s a sweet little body there, baby girl.” Bucky’s head snapped around to the man, but Evie kept walking. Bucky looked over to Evie with concern riddling his features.

“Hey, sweetcheeks! Let me talk to you for a while!” The greasy man was now following Evie and Bucky. “I bet I can show you a better time than he can, baby girl. Come on, let me talk to you.” He reached his hand out, gripping Evie’s arm and pulling her to face him.

“Please don’t touch me.” “Get your fucking hands off her, you dick.” The man took a step backwards away from the pair.

“Well, fine you bitch! I didn’t want you anyway, fucking fat ass.”

“Hey, you don’t just get to fucking walk away, you jackass! Apologize to her.”

“Why should I apologize to her? I was giving her a compliment.” Bucky’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. Did this guy just fucking--

“Okay, buddy.” Bucky went to approach the man to settle their disagreement when Evie stopped him.

“James, leave it. Let’s go.” She kept walking and Bucky didn’t want to leave her alone, not after that whole debacle.

“What the fuck was that Evie?” He questioned quickly, she shook her head in response but never verbally responded to him. A few paces later, the pair was about to pass a group of men leaned up against the brick wall behind them. Brown paper bags crunched around bottles were grasped in their hands. Drunken laughter was ringing out through the near empty streets.

“Hey baby! Why don’t you come on over here so we can talk to ya!” One of the men began to step in front of Evie effectively stopping her movement. The eighteen year old took a few steps backwards, coincidentally into Bucky’s chest. His arms came up to meet hers, about to move in front of her in a protective stance.

“Woah, you got a bodyguard baby?” The man tilted his head and stared at Evie. “You know you don’t need him sweetheart.”

“Damn, baby girl. You’re fine as hell.” Another man walked to stand next to the first. “What do I gotta do to get you in my bed?”

“Please leave us alone.”

“No, baby girl I don’t think that’s what’s going to happen.” Bucky stepped in front of Evie protectively.

“I think she told you to leave us alone.” The two men in front of Bucky didn’t waver. Two raised brows and a fit of laughter later, they still maintained their ground.

“Why? You guys going somewhere to fuck? Already got a piece of that ass and don’t want to share it big man?”

“That’s just cold. You gotta share sometime. And it’s just easier to do it now rather than later.” Evie trembled behind Bucky and leaned up so only Bucky could hear her.

“Come on Bucky, let’s just go back to the apartment.” She tugged on his right arm, fingers digging into his soft flesh. Bucky was sure that he would have crescent shaped indentations where her nails laid in because of how much she was gripping him.

Bucky’s eyes flicked up and down the two men in front of him, assessing how much of a threat they were. They were clearly enough of a threat to frighten Evie to the point of wanting to go home. Bucky gave Evie a stiff nod, not taking his eyes off of the men.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going baby? We’re just getting started!” One of them yelled at the pair as he reached out to grab Evie’s forearm. A split second later, Bucky’s left hand balled into a fist and he launched it at the man’s face. A loud crack resounded and a groan left the man’s mouth as he hit the ground. A look of shock fell across the other’s faces as they saw Bucky standing over their fallen comrade. The group took several steps away from the pair, holding their hands up in surrender.

“Don’t you ever touch a woman without her permission, you fucking prick.” Bucky then turned quickly, grabbing Evie’s wrist tightly and hauling her away from the men. Several paces later, Bucky still held a tight grip on the girl's arm.

“Bucky, you’re kind of hurting me.” Evie’s voice broke through Bucky’s barriers. He let up on how fast he was walking and then dropped Evie’s arm.

Worried eyes scanned her body for any bruising, “I’m so sorry, doll. Are you okay?” Evie laughed as she was rubbing her sore wrists.

“Bucky, that’s normal for any woman. Ever.” Shaking her head, she began walking back towards the apartment. “We could’ve kept on going to Walgreens, but I wasn’t sure your fragile heart could take it.” Bucky drew in his brows and a deep frown etched itself into his features.

“What the hell do you mean that’s normal, Evelyn?” He thrust his arm behind them, gesturing to what they just went through. “Nothing about that was normal.” Still shaking her head, the eighteen year old shrugged her shoulders.

“It’s normal for women.” She glanced at Bucky as she continued on her way. “Also, I know that you were probably just defending my honor or protecting me or whatever, but I want you to really think back, Buck. Think about when you were picking up women in the forties, did you ever push when they didn’t want to have that drink with you? Did you continuously ask for them to dance with you?”

“No, I told you. My Ma raised me the right way.” They walked up to the apartment building and Bucky reached for the door handle. Evie began making her up the stairs, Bucky not far behind her. She stopped suddenly, a few flights before Cassie’s apartment.

“What about your friends?” Bucky was taken aback. His memories were still a bit fuzzy about those times, but he could remember clearly enough. Although he wasn’t quite sure what she meant by the questions she was asking.

“What are you getting at Evie?” He huffed while opening the door to Cassie’s apartment. Freddie and Penny were lounged on the couch with an almost empty bottle of wine. Cassie’s head shot up at the sound of the two walking in the doorway. Evie dumped her things off on the granite countertop and turned on her heel to stare at Bucky.

“Did you ever stop your friends when women said no?” The quiet laughter between Penny and Freddie stopped suddenly as Evie’s question hung in the air. All eyes were on Bucky as he gulped and thought back to the times at the bars. Out with Steve and the other Howling Commandos, did they ever do that? He tried to think of a time when they pushed for what they wanted to happen. Of a time when the woman they were pursuing reluctantly gave in because they wouldn’t leave her alone. Evie didn’t wait for an answer, she could see that he was processing everything.

“So why did you stop those guys back there?” Her brows raised and her head tilted in question. Bucky took a deep breath and was about to answer when Evie cut him off. “By punching that guy out there, you’re a hero and we should all thank you and congratulate you for doing the right thing.” She stepped closer to Bucky and the three in the living room understood where Evie was going.

“What do you think would have been said if I would’ve punched him? Sure, you would’ve said something snappy and nice about how I can take care of myself. The general public though? They would say that I overreacted.”

“Easy Evie, he’s still learning.” Cassie said quietly. Bucky was thankful for that, he still did have a lot to learn but it felt like Evie was attacking him. That’s the point, you fucking dumbass. If you had been berating her for putting herself in danger by punching that guy, you would think she was reckless.

“Her point, Bucky, is that the double standard for men and women goes beyond what we expect. Everyone goes crazy for the knight saving the damsel, but everyone hates the damsel for saving herself.” Freddie explained from the comfort of the couch. Bucky nodded, starting to understand the concept. “And her questions about your old buddies. That has to do with the fact that you’re part of the problem.”

“What problem is that?” Bucky was honestly scared to know the answer but he knew to fully learn, he had to get all the facts, both good and bad.

“Stunting the growth of feminism. Being one of the people perpetuating the fact that it’s okay for men to be violent, but not for women.”

“Violence in the form of defending oneself in any capacity.” In Bucky’s line of work, he sees tons of capable and strong women. Natasha, Okoye, Shuri, Sharon, he could think of so many. Then he tried to think of when any of them got the limelight like Steve or himself.

“So it’s like anytime that there would be press releases for the team, and the interviewers would come and ask us questions,” he paused to think how to word what he wanted to say, “they always ask the guys about like super important things like how we’re keeping the city safe and stuff. But when they talk to the girls, they ask about their workout schedule and if they can wear underwear under their suits?”

“Yes, it’s exactly like that Bucky. That’s just a different form of it.” Evie replied quickly. She came up to hug Bucky. “I didn’t mean to attack you or anything, but this is something that we all feel is really important for you to grasp now that you’re back out there.”

“And now that you can recognize when it’s happening, the next important step is to stop it before it happens.” Penny yelled from the living room as she downed the last of the bottle in her hand.

“I’m so sorry, Evie. I didn’t know.”

“I know, I’m sorry too. You’re still figuring stuff out, but I needed you to see what it was really like for women.”

“Okay.” Bucky nodded. “How can I help this situation?” The group exchanged proud looks.

“Well, educate everyone around you. Don’t let it happen when you’re around.” Cassie said as she walked into the kitchen to crack open another bottle of wine. “And just support women. Push our problems into the public’s eye.” Bucky smiled, he could handle that, he was good at that.

Considering he was on his way to becoming a member of the Avengers, he would be able to influence from up high. He could openly support groups that were run by women, for women. He was used to standing in the background for things he didn’t believe in, so standing for something that he did was going to be a cakewalk.

A concern floated into the forefront of Bucky’s mind. He looked down at Evie, who had just recently released him from her death grip of a hug. “You know how to defend yourself right?”

Evie’s brows raised in a challenging manner, “Do I look like I don’t know how to defend myself?” The man shook his head and smiled as the surrounding group laughed. Cassie poured a glass of wine and cracked open a bottle of beer for Bucky.

They all made their way to the comfy couches to snuggle in for a movie night, satisfied with their teachings for the night.

“What are we watching tonight?”

“Well, in the spirit of feminism, we are going to watch Legally Blonde.” Penny commented as she picked up the remote. “And it’s Freddie’s favorite so yeah.”

The lights clicked off as the opening credits ran for the movie. Bucky looked around his group of friends as they giggled at the screen. Evie had her head in Cassie’s lap and she was stretched across the sofa with her feet tucked under Bucky’s thigh. Freddie and Penny were curled up in the loveseat across from where Bucky was. Pieces of popcorn and glasses of red wine were being passed from person to person, with the exception of Evie who was still underage. The energy surrounding the five of them was something Bucky hadn’t experienced in a long time and he wasn’t going to give it up anytime soon either.

A large grin overtook his face, although today was one of the harder lessons for him to learn, he wouldn’t want anyone else to be teaching him.

***********************

@mishaandthebrits

[serenadeonacanoe]

Honestly, I'd piss him off on purpose. (Namjoon x OFC)

Pairing: Namjoon x Original Female Character

Genre/Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, too tired to beta

Tags: Artist!Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae are the best flatmates, Enemies to Lovers I guess... more like brats to making out in the storage unit, OFC is an idiot.

Summary:

"Wow. Is that that grumpy artist behind you? Jesus. He really looks like a bit of a dick. And you are right. He really is hot..." Oh no. Speakerphone. Namjoon was standing behind me and was staring at me. Then at my phone. He let out a little laugh, then raised his hand to wave at Tae and Yoongi outside who were now also staring at him as if frozen, before turning around in unison. As if that would help. As if he couldn't see them. Or better even... couldn't hear them.

[...]

Mister Darcy has nothing on Kim Namjoon - that new and upcoming artist you probably already heard of (You haven't? How dare you? At least have the decency to pretend you have!). He is cold, serious, and rather good at making other people believe he is a prick. Especially Elizabeth Bennet - uh... Charlotte - is about to lose it because of him. Maybe in a good way. Man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

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CHAPTER 1

Even the sound of my own nails rhythmically tapping on the top of the counter was annoying me. To be fair, it didn't need much today to blow my fuze that had never been particularly long in the first place. But after a week consisting of being belittled by old white men and endless hours of unpaid overtime I about had it. Welcome to the art world. You know well before you enter that the hours are horrible and the job market is more than frustrating, but you love art and you have good organisational skills, you are resilient, charming when it counts and tend to romanticize things even when you know you shouldn't. It's too late to turn around now.

"That is why I don't use an agenda or notebook. If something is important enough for me to attend I simply won't forget. I know you youngsters are all about the bullet journaling and expressing yourself by mapping out your life but it really is just another way to procrastinate instead of getting to actual work." For a second I considered throwing my damn notebook in the buyer's face, but that probably wouldn't have helped my CV and the new job I would have to look for starting tomorrow. At least I should have screamed at him a little. Mainly, that I didn't care, that I was on my period and my shitty shower in the shitty flat i shared had broken and no dry shampoo in the world had fixed my hair this morning and that god damn it, how the hell was I supposed to remember every phone number, every call my boss had to take, every art handling transport I had organized if I couldn't write it down somewhere. Instead, I smiled. Died a little on the inside and complimented him on the gift of his exceptional memory and asked whether he would like another cup of coffee.

"What a dick." Samantha murmured, more to herself than me, after the guy had finally left, which made me snort under my breath. She usually didn't say much but when she did it was usually pure gold. In the end, it didn't matter that he was. Didn't matter that everyone at the gallery thought the art he had bought from us over the last couple of months had neither been smart nor impressive purchases. Mainly expensive. And flashy.

"Doesn't matter now." I said in a sigh after a quick glance at the clock. It was Friday night and we were about to close. Since it was my birthday on Monday I had taken two days off, about the longest break I had had this year and I was looking forward to being the lazy slob for a few days I was maybe always meant to be. In silence we answered a few last emails, tidied up the desks and counters so that potential buyers that would come in over the weekend wouldn't have to suspect anyone was actually working here. - A white desk. A huge Imac on it. That was all they needed to see, folders and pens and apparently especially agendas to be hidden away in drawers.

At five to eight I threw on my coat and Samantha just gave me a tired smile. Probably happy for me, just exhausted. "Have fun then? Don't get too wasted?" "Oh..." I said with a huge smug grin on my lips. "You have no idea... gonna take a bottle of Moët with me from the bar and drink it in my bathtub after eating a huge pepperoni pizza by myself and dancing to only the finest of 90s Euro Trash." I couldn't help it, apparently, I felt it necessary to give Sam a little demonstration, waving my arms up and down while swaying my hips in a way that I'd probably would not have if it hadn't been for a bit with an audience of a single person. Or maybe two?

A quiet scoff behind me and I quickly turned around, slowly lowering my arms, Sam biting her lower lip at the sight of me standing there like an idiot in front of HIM of all people.

Men didn't have to be old to annoy me. Or white. Yes, those were the ones that pissed me off most usually, but no one had managed to do so as much as Kim Namjoon recently. And now he was standing there, looking me up and down and stopping at my hair. The crazy too-much-dry-shampoo-because-the-shower-broke-hair. "Nice." He just commented and then looked over at Sam. "I'd like to take a last look before Sunday's opening if that is okay?" I stood there, my shoulders dropping, completely ignored.

"Uhm, actually, my babysitter has to leave in about an hour and I will have to be home before that." Samantha replied and I was impressed by how calm she stayed. "Of course." Namjoon said and gave her a slight smile. "Anyone else still around? Chris maybe?" Of course Chris hadn't been in today. It was Friday and unless important guests had announced themselves the owner of the gallery wasn't around on Fridays... "I am afraid not. But maybe Charlotte has a few minutes?" Well. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I felt a little betrayed. "Wouldn't want to keep anyone from their important Moët-Pizza-Dance Party plans." Namjoon replied before I could say a word. His voice once more dropping to a hushed, deep disapproval and his hands buried in the pockets of his rather expensive looking coat. Silence for a few moments and then he just walked off towards the room his exhibition had been set up all week. Showing without a further word that I would have to stay anyways if he wanted it that way.

"Well thank you for pushing me under the bus like that. Really appreciate it." "I am so sorry. But I was serious, I can't lose this babysitter. She got Jamie to eat vegetables. VEGETABLES!" Samantha suddenly seemed in a rush, grabbing her jacket and purse and showering me in promises she would make it up to me. Even though we both knew that wouldn't happen and wasn't necessary. Suddenly having to stay longer was normal. I just hated that it had to be today. And because of him.

I heard the door close behind Sam and I stood there for a second before putting my bag down again. Usually, I would have followed the artist, asking if I could somehow help, but nahhh... my ego was bruised up enough now, especially remembering the little dance. I closed my eyes. Fucking hated the guy. Always had. Well, not quite. I had thought he was cool for about five minutes when he had come in the first time. We had heard about him for quite a few months before, I think I had even seen pictures of him at some point, but those were nothing compared to him in real life. He came in all cheekbones and sharp chin and an all grey outfit, quick pace, observant gaze. Incredibly hot. He had also completely ignored me.

That's how it had started - a bruised ego. He couldn't know that it was my weak spot. Having studied art and its management and now feeling like a better secretary at times, when my colleagues and I were doing all the behind the scenes work while Chris worked very little hours and ended up with all the money and recognition. I was aware this wasn't the only field of work where this was the case, but it still frustrated me... I had imagined my life in the last years of my 20s to be a bit more glamorous than living in a tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city... spending my Friday night waiting for some rude artist dude to leave so I could lock up.

But what I perhaps hated most about him... was that I admired him. - Purely for his art. Really. Even the fact that he kept acting as if I wasn't around every time he came in didn't mean I couldn't admit that. At least to myself. The stories behind his huge colleagues were clever and thought through, but even without context, the pure aesthetics were mesmerizing. It was the kind of art that touched something deep inside of you and standing in front of it I always had a hundred questions. Whenever he brought in a new piece I was the first one to sneak a peek in the back rooms before it was hung.

"I don't get why you have such a problem with him. He is just... quiet. I think he might even be shy... stop being so sensitive and just ask him out already." I had almost strangled Sam for that comment a couple of weeks back. Stop being so sensitive. What did that even mean? Comments like that made me want to cry and scream at the same time, which probably would have been perceived as even more sensitive, but when had insensitivity become something to strive for? I had only kept quiet because I liked Sam and I knew what she had tried to say. At least I thought so. That I might have given less of a shit if I hadn't been rather attracted to Namjoon. Even though I had never mentioned it, she just knew. She knew if I didn't care about something I didn't waste my time on it. But if something made me angry or upset there was usually more to it. I hated that she could read me that easily. But he was still a dick and I still wanted to go home.

He took his sweet time. After an hour I walked up to him, a little speech prepared in my head about how he could come back first thing tomorrow. But when he turned around he just raised a hand between us to keep me from interrupting and turned away again. I hadn't seen that he was on the phone. "No, it's nothing, just one of the gallery employees." I heard him say and okay... if I wasn't about to explode before I was now. I stood there for a minute, fuming, and then simply walked back to the office area, my hand shaking when I started turning off the gallery lights one by one. It wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped but still felt good. Two minutes later the only lights still on were the one above my head and the one in front of the door. I would at least give him a clear direction where to head, he seemed to need it.

When Namjoon appeared out of one of the dark corners he looked even more annoyed than usual. Looking my direction through squinting eyes and his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. "Seriously?" he yelled my way and almost walked into one of the little flyer shelves. Wasn't the first time I had seen that happen to him though so maybe that had nothing to do with the light.

I felt oddly triumphant. By the time I had put on my coat and turned off the remaining lights, ready to finally lock up, Namjoon had almost found his way, standing in the open door, still on his phone. A little groan from my side when he didn't even notice that I was standing behind me went by unnoticed. Or simply ignored. But instead of the appropriate clearing of the throat or the maybe less polite squeezing past him, I just put my hands on his back and gently pushed him forward a bit, until his feet hit the pavement and he turned around. Dropping his hand with the phone in it, for a second he looked like he wanted to push back. Or trample me.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem, Charlotte?" His voice was hoarse. His eyes dark. God, he was hot. I hated him so much. "You." I simply replied and stared at him for a second, then turned around and locked the two locks on the door before stepping over to the alarm system. I couldn't help feeling smug because apparently, he knew my name. I imagined him staring at the back of my head because he was flustered, but couldn't be sure. All I knew was that when I turned around again a minute later he was still standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips pressed together forming a straight line and watching me.

"Do you always act like that at work around people who could get you into trouble?" He was right, he could get me into trouble. But I was too fired up now, my heart racing. "Is that a threat?" "An observation." "Only around the ones I don't like." "Cool." "Great." "Enjoy the dance party. Sounds shit."

And with those words he had turned around, coat flying open in the wind, unfortunately making him look really cool as he walked away and I ABSOLUTELY HATED HIM. I kept my mouth shut and just walked off in the other direction, realizing minutes later that my car was parked the other way, but I kept walking for a while before I finally turned around. It took a while to calm down and only cuddling up to my cat on the couch to trash tv finally did the job. But by then I had realized something I wasn't sure I liked too much. Yeah, I thought he was a prick. And yeah I should have just played it cool. Would have been much smarted in many regards. But I also had somewhat enjoyed myself in the most fucked up way.

Seeing that stern look, that intense posture as he was towering over me... man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

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[tinyboxxtink]

"Broken" A Sharky ANGSTY O/S

So I made a one shot called Baby Shark where Sharky and Rafael get pregnant and after some bumpy conversation, decide to have the baby and she grows up to be a great kid, and you love being a mother.

However, at the time I also had an idea for the OTHER outcome of the pregnancy. But I let it go, and then I got a request from-- someone, I don't know if they want this out in the world-- to write a fic about a miscarriage. So, I figured I'd go with the idea I had already planned out.

AND SO,

I present to you, the alternative outcome of "Baby Shark".

Warning: VERY angsty, dealing with abortions and miscarriages. Also religion, if you're sensitive about that.

Read at your own discretion.

If you would like to read the happy version of this story, it is here.

Tag List

@objection-argumentative

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

You stared at the four pregnancy tests on the counter, waiting on the fifth. Plus signs and “Pregnant” words were sitting there, mocking you. You heard your phone alarm go off and picked up the last test.

Positive.

“Dammit!!!” You threw it across the bathroom. This was your worst nightmare. You didn’t want kids right now, you weren’t sure you wanted kids EVER. But you knew Rafael did, he probably wanted them as soon as possible.

“Mi Amor?” Rafael slowly opened the door.

“Raffi!” You spun around angrily. “Don’t you knock?!”

“Well I heard you yell…Oh my god,” Rafael suddenly noticed all the positive tests. “Y/N, are you…are you pregnant?”

“Yeah, well obviously,” You scoffed, gesturing to the many positive tests. You weren’t trying to be mean but he walked in just when you were trying to wrap your mind around this.

“…Why are you angry about this, carino?” He looked at you confused. “You…you do want kids, don’t you?”

“We really should have had this conversation before we got married, god why didn’t we have this conversation…”

“Oh my god,” Rafael stepped back. “You DON’T want kids?”

“I don’t know!” You threw your hands up. “Rafael I had given up on being a wife a long time ago, let alone a mother,”

“I can’t believe this,” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Look I just don’t want to have to make this decision right NOW,” You tried to act softer, lowering your voice. “You know we JUST got married, and we JUST started the practice. I just wanted some time to BREATHE,”

“So…you want to abort it?” Rafael’s voice was soft and sad.

“Christ Almighty Rafael it’s not ‘aborting’ it’s…” You paused, noticing his face was getting more horrified. “What?”

“I thought when you were defending me, your whole ‘cold medical’ argument was a tactic…”

“Yeah well,” You ran your fingers through your hair. “Look, baby,” You took his hand again. “If I…got rid of it,” You saw him flinch. “It would just be taking a pill that rips apart cells and tissue. It doesn’t disintegrate arms or legs, or a tiny beating heart,”

“Yeah I get it, Y/N” He dropped your hands and walked out of the bathroom, you ran after him.

“Rafael, come on!” You chased him through the apartment, grabbing his hand and making him face. “At least hear me out,”

“Why? Why should I? You clearly won’t hear me out! You’ve already made your decision, I bet you weren’t even going to tell me about it,”

“That’s not fair,” You replied, hurt. Of course you would have told him, wouldn’t you?

“And…it’s not just this,” He sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you don’t want kids right now is one thing, if you don’t want kids EVER, then…” He wiped his eyes. “Then we’re just delaying the inevitable,” He said softly, you could hear the tears in his voice.

“What?” Your heart fell into your stomach. “What are you saying?”

“I want kids, Y/N,” He looked at you very seriously. “I want kids and I’m not going to give up that idea,”

“So, you would just walk away from me for some hypothetical kids you might have some day?” You were getting upset now. How dare he threaten you like that.

“I don’t…” He ran his hands through his hair, tears still falling from his eyes. “I don’t want to,”

“Then DON’T,” You crossed your arms.

“Why should I appease you when you won’t even THINK about it?” He suddenly went from sad to angry, matching your attitude.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t think about it, I said I really don’t want to decide NOW,” You yelled back, as you sat down on the couch. All of this yelling was making you dizzy.

“Then when do you want to decide, Y/N? When-- when our baby actually has fingers, toes? Is that going to change your mind about killing them?”

“Oh my god, you are so--” You stomped out of the bathroom and through your living room.

“Where are you going?” He called after you.

“To prove to you I’m not a heartless bitch!” You yelled back as you stormed out, slamming the door behind you.

=====

You drove to the clinic that Dr. Ramoray worked at, pulling into the parking lot and rushed into the waiting room.

“I need to speak to Dr. Ramoray,“ You informed her.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but we’re old friends,”

“Excuse me?” She looked at you quizzically.

“Can you-- can you just tell him Y/N is here and really needs to talk to him?”

“....Okay…” She looked at you skeptically but stood up and went to find the doctor. After a few minutes Dr. Ramoray walked out and greeted you.

“Hello, Y/N. Nice to see you,” He shook your hand. “Don’t tell me you have another case--”

“No, it’s personal this time doctor,”

“Personal?”

“I...can we…?” You motioned towards the rooms.

“Well...sure, Stella hold my appointments,” He informed his receptionist.

He walked you back and into a patient room. It was lined with charts of the different stages of pregnancy, lists of do’s and don’t during pregnancy, things like that. You took a seat in the regular seats as opposed to the patient stirrups.

“So, how can I help you dear?”

“Well, you know that man I defended?”

“The ADA? Well of course, that’s one day I will never forget,”

“Well he’s my-- husband,” You looked down, hoping that wasn’t a lie.

“I see,” He nodded. “Well, that makes a lot of sense now that I think about it,”

“Right,” You nodded sheepishly. “Well, see we uh-- I got us in a...situation,” You put a hand on your stomach.

“Ah,” He nodded again. “I see,”

“Yeah..”

“And guessing by your argument in court, you’d like to get rid of the...zygote?”

“I don’t know,” You shook your head. “I...I didn’t have the greatest role mode of a mother growing up, and I have no idea how to--” You rubbed your temples. Too much detail.

“Look my husband has the opposite stance on my...views, of a zygote,”

“Well that’s ironic, isn’t it?” He chuckled.

“Yes haha. I just want you--- I just need a picture of this thing to show him it’s just cells, it’s not a--”

“A baby,” he finished for you.

“Right,”

“Well, as you must know due to your research Ms. Y/N, depending on how far along you are it might be impossible to even see the zygote,” He explained.

“Well that’s even better,” You half smiled. “Then it will really prove to him I’m doing nothing wrong-- if I decide to get rid of it,”

“As you wish,” He nodded, gesturing for you to get on the patient table. You laid down on the table and pulled your shirt up, while the doctor got the gooey gel and rubbed it on your stomach. He pulled up a screen that recorded the sonogram, as he ran the scanner over your uterus.

“....Hmm…” He studied the screen intently.

“Hmmm?” You asked. “Hmmm doesn’t sound good,”

“I...well, there seems to be an...issue,”

“Excuse me?” You sat up. “An issue? What kind of issue?”

“Well Ms. Y/N according to this, your uterus is what we would call-- hostile,”

“Hostile?” You half laughed. “Why does that not surprise me…?” You shook your head. Of course you, the cold hearted shark, would have a hostile uterus on top of everything else hostile in your body.

“Yes, see all of this extra tissue? It’s not ideal for a fetus to grow and develop,” He pointed out clouds of white almost filling your uterus. “To be completely honest with you, it’s a miracle you even got pregnant,”

“...Oh Jesus…” You put your hands over your face. “Why...God why…”

“If you decide to terminate this pregnancy, there’s a slim to none chance this will ever happen again,” He continued.

“Great,” You chuckled sarcastically. “So now even NATURE is forcing me to make a choice right now,”

“Well,” He pushed the screen away. “If it helps your decision, there’s an 75% percent chance the baby will even survive full term,”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You laughed harder. “So, even if I decide to concede to my husband and go ahead with this, there’s a 25% chance that he’ll get attached to it, and then it will die anyway?!”

“Look Ms. Y/N,” He put a hand on your shoulder. “In my experience, more often than not women with hostile uteruses that do actually get pregnant, end up having perfectly healthy babies. Granted most are preemies, but with today’s technology that’s almost never an issue,”

“...Right,” You shook your head with a dry sarcastic smile, still in disbelief this was all happening.

“And if you don’t mind me saying,” He added. “I really think this is something you should discuss with your husband,”

“I actually really do mind you saying, Doctor,” You said curtly. “I just...I need a minute, can I have a minute?”

“Sure, take a minute. Call him, maybe ask him to come down,”

“...Yeah, right,” You shook your head with a smile as you walked out of the room and down the hall through the waiting room and outside in front of the clinic. You walked over to a small bench off to the side of the walkway into the clinic and sat down, and before you could think your body just erupted in a loud, angry scream.

“....Do you think this is funny, huh?!” You yelled up at the sky. “Is this, what is this, some kind of TEST?” You stood up now as you continued your rant.

“Are you-- are you trying to test how much I love Rafael? Testing just how much I’ve REALLY changed? Or are you just trying to prove to me that I can’t be happy? I can’t have the nice, perfect man, with a perfect family? That I’ll just lose anything good that I touch? You’ve turned my own BODY against me?!” You started to cry in the middle of the grass.

“Why would you do this, huh?” You asked Him. “You know the kind of mother I grew up with, you know I have nothing GOOD to reference on being a mother!” Tears streamed down your cheeks.

“Why would you do this to me? Have I been that shit of a person? Really? I went through...I went through hell and back my entire life, and then I fought like hell for Rafael, for someone who actually loved me, for the very first time in my life! And now-- now you want to take that away from me? Or are you giving me a second chance? TELL ME! TELL ME WHAT I’M SUPPOSED TO DO!!!!!!!” You screamed, falling to your knees sobbing.

“....Y/N?” A soft voice made you leap to your feet and spin around to see Rafael standing there, his mouth slightly open with a confused look on his face.

“Rafa,” You quickly sucked the rest of your breakdown back into your body, wiping tears away and clearing your throat. “W-What are you doing here?”

“I...I came to support you,” He said softly as he walked closer to you.

“Support me?”

“Well I figured, you came down here to--”

“To what, kill our baby? Without even discussing with you?” You scoffed.

“No!” He cried. “Well, maybe..”

“Right,” You shook your head with a dry laugh.

“But I was going to support you no matter your decision!!” He defended himself.

“Oh well, that’s really big of you Rafael. Coming down here to hold my hand while I abort our child and then breaking up with me as soon as we walked out of here,” You scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

“That’s not--” He shook his head. “Look, I think-- I think that what matters right now is your little...soliloquy there,” He gestured towards the bench where you were having your screaming match at God.

“...Right,”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me about your mother, carino?”

“Why would I, Rafael?” You rolled your eyes with a laugh. “I already inadvertently told you I’d never heard the words ‘I love you’ in my life before you, I thought that was pretty obvious I didn’t have the greatest parents,”

“...Fair,” He closed the gap between you, taking your hands. “I’m sorry, I should have taken that into account when were...talking,”

“Arguing,” You clarified.

“Right,” He nodded sadly. “I just-- I ...I’ve always--”

“Yeah, I get it. You’ve always wanted kids. I should have taken that into account when we even started dating. I should have thought this could happen. I’m usually so level headed and ten steps ahead of things, but with you--”

“It’s different,” He finished for you with a sad smile.

“Yeah,” You nodded softly, looking at the ground.

“Well,” He tilted your chin up. “I don’t--I don’t want to impose anything on you, but--”

“But…”

“But...you did just ask the big guy what to do, and I was here,”

“...So you’re saying, God is telling me to go through with this?”

“All I’m stating is facts, Sharky,” He rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “I’m not telling you to do anything, I’m really not. I swear,”

“....Well, you should know all the facts then,” You sighed, leading him back to the bench where you both sat.

“All the facts?” He asked you curiously.

“...Dr. Ramoray says that I have a…’hostile uterus’,” You shook your head with a laugh, just saying it sounded absurd.

“A hostile uterus? You? I’m shocked,” He joked, trying to ease the tension.

“I know right?” You chuckled. “Anyway um-- he said, that it was a miracle I even got pregnant,” You said softly while you played with his hand in yours.

“...A miracle?”” Rafael’s voice perked up a little. Did that mean you were considering it? Surely you wouldn’t have told him that if you were going to get rid of it.

“Yeah,” You nodded. “And um-- he said, he said if I terminated this pregnancy, there was a slim to none chance that I’d ever get pregnant again,” You looked at the ground.

“I see,” He squeezed your hand softly. “So...basically, even mother nature is forcing you to make a life decision right now,”

“That’s what I said!” You looked up into his eyes; you really were so in sync.

“...Which is why you were yelling at God,”

“...Right,” You looked up at the sky. “But there’s another thing,”

“Oh?”

“The doctor said that even if I decide to go ahead with the pregnancy, there’s a 25% chance that it will die anyway,” You looked into his eyes sadly. “Because of course, my body would be just like my mother, rejecting it,” You looked away from him with another sarcastic laugh, thinking of the irony of your situation.

“Hey,” He put a hand on your face, making you look at him. “You are NOT your mother,”

“You didn’t even know her,”

“I know she wouldn’t be wrestling with this decision, would she?”

“No,” You shook your head. “She definitely would not. She made it very clear that my father MADE her have me, because he didn’t believe in abortion,”

“....Like I was trying to do,” He said sadly.

“No baby,” You took his hands. “I know you weren’t trying to force me to do anything,”

“....But I kind of was, when I threatened to leave you,” He looked down in shame.

“No, uh uh,” Now it was your turn to pull his chin upwards. “It’s not the same. Not even close,”

“....So,” He took a deep breath. “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

“....Well,” You gave him a small smile. “I can’t exactly argue with God for giving me what I asked for, right?”

“Wha--you mean me?”

“I asked him what to do, and here you are,” You pressed your forehead against his. “I’d say that’s a pretty big red flag of an answer,”

“Carino,” His lips curled into a huge smile before they were on yours.

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

----Six Months Later----

You were in your last trimester, and were finally starting to breathe about your impending labor. Every month, every doctor’s appointment, you’d walk into the office with the worst expectations, and every time you were proven wrong. In that time, you had grown attached to your little girl, who you decided to name Isabella. Izzie, for short.

Rafael would talk to Izzie as much as he talked to you, always speaking in Spanish thinking she’d pick it up in the womb. You’d just shake your head with a smile, it was adorable the way he was so excited. It made you even more excited, just seeing him so happy. You had never been so invested in someone else’s emotions other than your own, especially not someone who hadn’t even been born yet. But you loved Izzie already, you would smile to yourself when you’d feel her moving around inside you. It was like she was snuggling you in her own little cocoon inside you.

However, on the day of your baby shower, all of your new hopes and dreams came crashing down. You were doing your makeup, humming and bouncing along with the Spotify playlist you had playing-- when you felt it. A sharp, overwhelming pain struck your abdomen, causing you to hunch over, falling to your knees.

“RAFAEL!!!!!” You screamed as your insides felt like they were being stabbed everywhere. Everything you had feared was coming true.

Rafael sprinted into your bathroom half dressed and instantly was down next to you.

“Y/N, baby what’s wrong?” He asked frantically, checking your body everywhere as you writhed in pain and began to cry.

“It’s...Izzie,” You sobbed, knowing what was happening. “I’m losing her,”

“Oh God,” Rafael dialed 911 while he tried to help you stand. When he saw your pelvis however, he stopped moving you.

“What?” You asked in a panicked tone. “What is it?”

“You’re...You’re bleeding, Y/N,” His eyes began to fill with tears as he watched you quickly begin to bleed out in front of him.

“What?” You tried desperately to look down at yourself, all you saw was a pool of blood running down the floor to your feet. Everything started to go fuzzy, you could barely hear Rafael screaming on the phone for someone to hurry up and come to your rescue. Pretty soon, you blacked out completely.

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

The next thing you knew you were waking up in a hospital bed with a nurse taking your vitals.

“Welcome back, Ms. Y/N,” She smiled sweetly. “We almost lost you there,”

“...Lost me?” You looked at her in confusion before looking down at your stomach. A huge bandage was wrapped around your torso, covering several stitches and tubes coming out of your pelvis.

“Oh my god,” You whispered, beginning to panic again. “Oh my god, oh my god--”

“Whoa whoa calm down sweetie,” The nurse tried to keep you from squirming around. “You’ll pop your stitches,”

“Where’s Izzie? Where’s Rafael?” You asked her as you started to hyperventilate.

“Your husband ran to get a coffee” She assured you. “And um, your-- your baby is…”

“She’s dead, isn't she?” You began to sob. “I killed her,”

“No! No ma’am,” She shook her head. “Well, I mean she-- she is-- gone,” She said sadly. “But you did NOT kill her,”

“No, just my hostile body,” You continued to sob.

“Look I’m-- I’ll be right back,” She rushed out of the room, leaving you crying and screaming in horror and guilt.

After a few minutes, Rafael was bursting into the room, instantly at your side and taking your shaking body in his arms. He was still covered in your blood, he hadn’t dared to leave your side since they had gotten you there.

“I killed her, Rafa,” You sobbed into his chest. “I knew it, I knew this would happen. I’m broken inside, I told you I was broken,”

“Shhh, no no no mi amor,” He whispered as he tried to not start crying himself. “Shhhh, you’re-- you’re not broken,”

“I am!!!” You sobbed harder. “I killed our baby, just like I knew I would. It’s the one thing I was supposed to give you,”

“...Shh, baby I know. It’s okay, it’s alright--” He looked up at the sky as he began to cry himself.

“No it’s not, it’s not okay!!” Your sobs became heavier, you could barely breathe. All of your fears were coming true, you were being punished. You lost your child and now you were going to lose the love of your life. “Please don’t leave me, Please please please,”

“What?” He suddenly looked back down at you, pulling you from his chest. “Why would I--”

“I KILLED OUR BABY!!!!!!!!” You screamed. “That’s the ONE thing you asked me not to do!! The one thing! And I did it anyway!!!”

“NO, you did NOT,” He took both of your shoulders. “You did not kill our baby, do you hear me? You tried so hard, you took such good care of Izzie, carino--” He started to cry again as he said her name.

“She’s dead, Rafael,” You had just started to get your sobs under control until you saw him cry. You hated seeing him cry. You hated being the reason he was crying. “She’s dead!”

“And so were you!” He said through his tears. “You died on that table, they told me. But you came back to me,”

“....What?” Now you started to control your crying in shock from this new information.

“We may have lost Izzie, but I almost lost both of you. And I-- I don’t think I would have survived that,” He was still crying. “I...I’m devastated about Izzie, but I’m grateful you’re alive,”

“....Even though I’m broken?” You sniffled.

“You are not broken, mi amor,” He shook his head as he kissed your forehead, getting his own emotions to calm down. “...And if you still don’t believe me, then I promise you, I will spend the rest of our lives putting you back together,”

“....Okay,” You whispered, finally relaxing into his arms as he laid back against the wall.

“I love you, Y/N,” He whispered as he stroked your hair. “I will always love you, no matter what,”

“I love you too,” You sniffled as you started to fall asleep against his chest.

You wanted to believe him, but you knew deep down inside: You’d always be broken.

[siennahrobek]

I had so many ideas on what to write about today but I was scrolling through the Obi-Wan tag during my break and I came across a huge post that had been baffled and a bit crazed. It was labeled about forgiveness and mercy and such but it was like a huge insanely interpreted post about the Jedi Order and some of the characters. Of course I wasn't about to start any sort of argument (and wow was the post long) but I just had to write something, at least, in my own post, unconnected with theirs. I guess this is a reaction and buckle up cause it seems like this is going to be a long one. I have a lot to say and I'm not gonna stop being all anxious about it until I do but uh....

I'm sorry, did we watch the same movies?

They go through a lot of movies and completely do a opposite take on the Jedi; how they are "unattached" (I say this because there are so many misconceptions about the word) and celibate (which we know isn't actually true) and how Anakin becomes living proof why this attitude is wrong.

First of all, it's not an attitude; it is a way of life. One that has worked for thousands of people over millennia. Second; their point WAS proven. Anakin turned to the dark side and became a sith. He committed genocide after genocide (the Jedi, Mandalore, Alderaan, Lasan etc.) and in the end, he only turned back because of his son. Which, may seem good on the surface, but it only goes to show how no other children or people that he murdered actually mattered, it was only his blood child that did. But that's not where I'm going. You don't actually see him regret doing the countless things he has done (probably because he dies) and he only does this because of his blood son. It, for me, gives the impression that blood means everything.

Anyways, there is quite a bit of talk about Obi-Wan and honestly? It is all not good. I'm not blind to Obi-Wan's faults but in general? He is a really good person; he tries so hard and goes through so much and is ugh, always trying. Obi-Wan shows no understanding? What? What? Did we watch the same movie? I mean it has been a while since I have watched Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith (they hurt my heart because ugh) but that is NOT what I remember. I remember Obi-Wan teasing Anakin gently to get his mind off of his anxieties when they were going to see Padme again. I remember Obi-Wan saying "dude don't be a horny teenager" (not in those words obviously, but that was essentially the message). I remember him literally parenting and teaching him - like he's supposed to do. I remember him trusting Anakin to do the right thing and to protect the Senator alone, by himself. I remember Anakin saying he's been having dreams - not visions or anything and nothing specific, just about his mom - and Obi-Wan going "it's alright dude, those pass in time". I mean everyone has DREAMS, that's not beholden to force-sensitives. My dreams sure as heck don't mean anything. Just cause he is a Jedi and COULD have visions, does not mean they are. And he didn't tell Obi-Wan they were visions, he literally says dreams.

(this is about the time that I wish I could work with gifs and understand them)

Anakin is not stronger than Obi-Wan; I mean, really? Sure, more powerful? I guess? But let's go back. Who beats who on Mustafar? Obi-Wan. Who does NOT murder a bunch of children and turn to the dark side? Obi-Wan. Literally, sure, he's more "powerful" with the Force, because I guess that is the whole point but he's not stronger or wiser than Obi-Wan because as Captain Rex said "experience outranks everything" and man, does Obi-Wan have a lot of that.

Let's take a break and go to Shmi. They claim that her death is a dark page in the Jedi's book. I mean, w-what? How can you possibly blame the Jedi for Shmi's death? For not freeing her? Did Qui-Gon even tell the Council that Anakin was a slave? I don't remember, honestly. But still, she ended up freed and married to a man she fell in love with. And if I remember correctly, someone was sent (by Padme maybe? to free her but she was already gone to the Lars' by that point).

Okay, I know it sounds like I am reacting to a post and well I am I suppose. But like, this post is literally blaming the Jedi for Shmi's death and how they did not offer Anakin compassion. And then just to say that it is bothersome how Anakin was solely blamed. Uh, because he was a the perpetrator! How can you possibly justify the MURDER of children. Even though it not the Jedi way, I could understand, sort of, if he went after the people that hurt his mother specifically; probably some of the men/warriors/adults. But the babies? The children? You can literally not justify that. And to blame the Jedi Order and Obi-Wan for not "taking his nightmares seriously?" Are you serious? Anakin mentioned the dream (DREAM) once in passing, there is no indication that he said that she was in danger or that this was a vision. And visions are known to be notoriously unreliable! Not to mention, the Council is responsible for the Jedi as a whole - that is thousands of people.

Alright, now to the war.

There was a claim that throughout the war, the Jedi became more and more aloof, intolerant and unforgiving and determined to win despite the suffering of the people.

What. The. Krutack.

I will include the Clone Wars series, since it was directly referenced in response. Once again, did we watch the same show? Because I'm pretty sure that virtually the whole point of the show, aside from showing us horrible things the CIS did and the individuality of the clones, was the compassion and kindness of the Jedi. How they fought to protect as many people as they could. They were dying alongside the clones. Does anyone remember how kind and caring the Jedi were when they came across civilians. Do you remember how Obi-Wan literally carried and protected with his own body the little Twielek girl, Numa, on Ryloth? Does anyone remember how many NON-Republic planets they helped? I remember them helping even CIS senators and planets that had no ties to the Republic. They helped Mandalore even when they were not part of the Republic. The vast majority of Jedi are shown protecting not only citizens but the clones as well. They are on the front lines - not hidden behind a desk (although some are and that is necessary - tactics and strategy people) and trying to save as many lives as they can, even if it costs them. They inspire creativity and individuality in the clones - this is literally a thing. I could go on and on and on.

Okay, on to Revenge of the Sith - the sadness that will probably haunt my heart forever. We will start with Dooku; specifically when Palpatine tells Anakin to kill him and that he deserves it; it is revenge for cutting off his and whatever. And this, this, post asks if this is an act of mercy for the guy kneeling in front of him (and tells him Obi-Wan later denies him) and like, what? How in the world is that mercy? He murders a defenseless man. Sure, he is the enemy and he is a criminal but he is supposed to stand trial (not to mention all the intelligence Dooku could possible give to help win the war) which is incredibly ironic, considering later, Anakin screams at Mace Windu telling him Palpatine should stand trial (even though he is much more dangerous and more of a threat than Dooku). This is not mercy. This is a handless, defenseless (although evil) man who Anakin does actually kill. It is not mercy.

Anakin has dreams about Padme; similar to his mother. You would think he would have learned his lesson and confided in someone by telling them what was actually happening. Anakin once again, DOES NOT give Yoda any specifics, just that he fears someone he is close to will die. It is claimed that he is lacking empathy and compassion to Anakin's dilemma. WHAT DILEMMA? Anakin won't tell anyone anything that could actually help. What Yoda says is true; like "dude, people die and you have to move on from that. You cannot stop death and you cannot let this fear control you. You have to let go" which is a completely reasonable thing; I mean, hello - grief counseling anyone? Yoda probably thought he was talking about Obi-Wan - who was off on a very dangerous mission against a cyborg that had killed many Jedi and padawans; this seems like a very normal fear. Whether or not Yoda says this in the right way is not really relevant; Anakin knows that he has to let go of what he fears to lose because eventually, no matter what, he will lose it. NOTHING is permanent. Now if Anakin had specified he was having what he thought were visions and the actual person in them, I'm sure Yoda would have said things differently and probably helped him.

(Also, did Padme get any real health care or like??? Was it too much of a secret???)

(The genocide of the people in the Temple is conveniently glossed through with bare mention)

and then Mustafar. Contrary to Padme (apparently) Obi-Wan shows no clemency. ANAKIN MURDERED THE ELDERLY, THE SICK/INJURED AND BABIES in the temple. Not warriors, not even full grown men and women (some would be full grown but all the able bodied were probably out in the war trying to defend the universe). He should NOT be granted clemency. Anyone else would probably have been executed for this direct horrifying act. But they seem to gloss over how Obi-Wan is always on the defensive, not really because Anakin is more overpowering (And Obi-Wan does use a defensive style, Soresu) but because he is trying to give Anakin time to chill out and come to his senses. That is literally how the choreography was designed.

And Obi-Wan's last words were? Harsh? What? If I remember correctly, Obi-Wan says something like "You were supposed to destroy the Sith not join them" and when Anakin screams he hates Obi-Wan, the return is "you were my brother, Anakin, I loved you."

That is heart-breaking and sad, not harsh. How can you look at Obi-Wan's face in this scene and call that harsh? How can your heart not break for him?!

Say what you will about Obi-Wan leaving Anakin without "finishing him off". Whether or not this is a mercy, whatever. First, we needed a reason for Vader to be in the suit. Second, Anakin was unarmed; Obi-Wan doesn't go around killing unarmed enemies, much less loved ones. (Hello, the slaver from the series, anyone? He didn't kill him; it is against his beliefs. Rex killed him). Can you even imagine how Obi-Wan was feeling? How could he possibly kill his brother? Like, I have so many feelings and not enough words ahdkjgkjgjkf. Anakin does suffer and Obi-Wan has no reason to believe that Anakin would survive his injuries. Furthermore, if I remember correctly, Palpatine ship was coming? Also, Obi-Wan had to get to Padme - she was injured and more of a priority. Because she is someone he can try to save - Anakin is long gone - in more ways than one.

Although it claimed that they are not denying the terrible things Anakin has done; that is almost kind of what they are doing. They are literally putting Anakin's choices and agency to the fault of the Jedi - not just individuals but the culture and people. It is literally gone on to say that if he had left with his wife, the worst could have been avoided. What was the worst?

Oh, a mass murderer got his legs cut off and accidently burned alive. Uhm, okay, that sucks but you do realize he committed genocide of his entire family right? And he choked his wife into unconsciousness.

I can't even with humans.

There is not even a note to Palpatine and how he manipulated Anakin for years. No blame at all on the man we need to blame the most - they put all the blame on the Jedi which just. Blows my mind.

The Clone Wars proved there was no right choice for the Jedi - they were doomed to fall. Not because of anything they did - they did everything they could - but because of Palpatine's plans and schemes. I will never, ever agree that the Jedi failed because of themselves. I do not think that the "institution" was destined to fall ( that "institution" lasted for longer than the Republic). The Jedi were trying so hard - they were kind and good and compassionate and trying so hard for peace and saving as many lives as they could. The Sith were evil. The CIS was evil. The Senate was corrupt. And the Jedi were trying.

There is so much Jedi-blaming for Anakin's attitude, disposition and choices it is literally driving me insane. Why did I do this to myself?

Things delve into a New Hope and immediately there is bashing of the jedi; where Obi-Wan cuts some guy's arm off at a Cantina and Obi- Wan "lying" that Vader killed Anakin. Which, honestly, I could see that being true. Him being Anakin's murderer, at least. Vader may have Anakin's body but even he claims that he killed Anakin Skywalker. Anakin, at least, how he thought he was, was loyal and passionate and loving - or at least he tried to be. Vader is literally none of these things; there is very little of "Anakin" in Vader. And at first glance, it may seem that Obi-Wan and Yoda are setting Luke up to kill "his father" but honestly, I see it more as preparing him to fight Vader and kill him, if necessary. It's a horrible thing, but they do not outright say anything. And honestly, they were right. Vader is willing to kill Luke - he cuts off his hand and fights him. Okay, I have so much to say about this but that is for another time; i will digress about this particular point (of lying and such)

Luke, apparently, decides to forgive Vader and show him mercy (which is claimed the Jedi and Obi-Wan NEVER did for Anakin, no matter what he did for them which is such BS I'm virtually crying rn)

There is a lengthy talk about Luke trying to rebuild the Jedi culture and how it crushed him, his contrast with Obi-Wan's attitude and shame(?) and how trying to be a Jedi has caused him to fail. Because apparently Luke is the only one who apologized and that makes him different I guess? (How many times has Obi-Wan apologized and thought things were his fault even though they weren't?)

I won't get into the Sequel Trilogy because honestly, it does very little to interest me. I am mostly a Prequel- era person mostly because I love Obi-Wan and the strength and compassion of his character. Finn seemed really interesting to me and man I thought having a female Jedi character would be really great - we had some fantastic female Jedi such as Ahsoka, Shaak Tii, Depa Billaba and so many more - but they were rarely the focus and I thought it would be fun. But, I was a bit disappointed because killing off Han Solo the way they did? Eh. Didn't care for it. I was also in the era of Mara Jade, Jacen and Jaina Solo, Anakin Solo and Ben Skywalker (Luke's son) so perhaps I was a little bias. I didn't really understand why Leia and Han would name their child after someone that they didn't really know (although I do have a headcanon concerning Leia and Obi-Wan which I find hilarious that I love).

I didn't particularly care for the Sequel Trilogy. They made it a Skywalker show and they did an emphasis on romantic love and from what I recall from what I have watched, the majority of the characters weren't nearly as interesting or compelling to me. And then bringing Palpatine back, sighs. Why does it always come back to him? That is just exhausting.

I'm not hating on the Sequels; everyone is allowed to like things or whatever. I just didn't; they focused so much on Rey and Kylo Ren (who I actually have a bit of an opinion on but I won't right now) instead of the more intriguing characters. I would have been much more interested in Finn as a Jedi. To overcome what he has been through as a stormtrooper and becoming a Jedi would be a really interesting story. I didn't care for how they handled Luke. And I didn't like how Rey apparently became a master so fast without any real training? Even Anakin, the Chosen One, the most powerful force-wielder, had ten years of training under Obi-Wan and the Jedi. That stuff doesn't just...come; you learn it.

I wrote more about the Sequel Trilogy than I care too. I suppose this is a rather reaction post but wow; I felt like me and this person had watched two separate movie trilogy/shows. It boggles my mind on how people can get the opposite of something that was so clearly shown. I hope I didn't upset anyone too bad. I'm not hear to start a fight, just to get out some feelings.

I wrote this all instead of homework that I desperately need to do. Sighs.

I need to go through my likes and read some good Jedi content cause man, that, that was hard.

[today-only-happens-once]

(un)claimed

Title: unclaimed

Summary: Virgil is a demigod. The good news is that he is not alone. A Percy-Jackson!AU fic. Platonic/found-family DRLAMP dynamics.

Word Count: 4217

Warnings: some violence and weapons, Greek mythology, passing mention of curses, feelings of anxiety, some self-doubt and self-deprecation, parent issues (of course, it’s a pjo!AU), no Side is a bad guy but there’s some tension between Remus and Roman, I play a little loose with PJO timeline stuff woops, Janus has done some light antagonizing of the gods.

A/N: Honestly, it should surprise nobody that I wrote this. Heh. Just for fun to release the happy chemical in my brain. Not that deep or involved. Just a light little diddy. <3 Hope you enjoy! Edited by yours truly so all mistakes are mine. No tags because it’s a fandom-specific AU, not because I don’t love y’all. <3 

///

“See that tree on the hill?”

Virgil quirks an eyebrow at the boy beside him, taking in his bright orange t-shirt and the three beads on his leather necklace. He has what Virgil would swear was snake scales across the left side of his face. Janus, he had said his name was. (Like the god? Virgil had asked. No relation. Not unless Athena has some explaining to do, the boy had told him with a wry smile as if that was somehow supposed to make sense.)

He’d met Janus four hours ago in New York in Central Park after a very weird encounter with a cyclops. Though if he’s being honest, the cyclops had only been the most recent run-in with vicious creatures out of his mother’s old Greek myth anthology. He’d been ducking and dodging and outrunning them for nearly a year at this point. Janus had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sliced the cyclops with a dagger and it vanished in a puff of gold dust.

Then Janus told him he knew a safe place to go. Perhaps he was an idiot, but Virgil had followed without much objection. The idea of a place that was safe was nearly too good to be true, but Janus had just dusted a cyclops. And Virgil figured there was at least some power in numbers, if nothing else.

Virgil follows where the other boy is pointing and sees a tall pine tree at the top of the steep hill. He nods.

“Go there. You’ll see a camp in the valley. Chiron will explain.”

“Chiron?”

“Yes. Activities director. You can trust him.”

“You’re not coming too?” Virgil looks at the boy beside him again. Janus is looking in the opposite direction of the tree back the way they’d come and he yanks the dagger out of his belt.

Janus’s mouth twitches. “We’ve got company. I will hold them off. The border is protected. You’ll be safe once you cross the tree line.”  

Alarmed, Virgil looks over his shoulder and sees a winged creature in the distance. It looks almost a like a bat, if a bat could be the size of a human person. “What is that?!”

Janus gives a slight shove to Virgil’s shoulder. “Run, Virgil!”

“I can’t leave you behind—”

Janus mutters something that sounds foreign, and yet Virgil understands it. A curse word in… was that ancient Greek? Virgil isn’t given time to process it before Janus grabs Virgil’s arm and takes off at a sprint up the hill. Virgil stumbles but he manages to keep his feet under him as he takes off at a run for the looming pine. As they get closer, Virgil chances a glance over his shoulder. The winged creature is maybe twenty yards away. It’ll be on them any second.

Janus whistles sharply. “Hey! We got incoming!”

Seemingly out of nowhere, three other kids appear from near the tree. One of them notches an arrow in an honest-to-gods bow. He aims, then releases. Virgil watches, stunned, as the blow strikes true and the winged creature vanishes in a puff of gold dust that gets caught in the breeze.

Virgil rests his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. Janus, beside him, is breathing hard as well but he nods to the kid with the bow and arrow.

“Nice shot,” Virgil tells him.

The kid looks to be maybe a year older than Virgil, and is wearing a t-shirt that matches Janus’s. He’s also got a necklace of beads, though his has five of them. Virgil realizes that some of them match Janus’s, plus a few more. He slings the bow across his back and flashes Virgil a bright grin.

“Thanks! I’m Sloane.” He extends his hand.

“Virgil.” He shakes the kid’s hand.

Sloane nods to the other two kids that had materializes near him. One of them is a girl that looks a little younger than Virgil, maybe 14, with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. The other is a guy in a backwards baseball cap and a plaid shirt over the orange tee that looks about Sloane’s age. His necklace only has one bead on it.

“This is Valerie,” Sloane introduces. “She’s from Cabin 10. And this is Kai. He’s from Cabin 9.”

“Sloane,” Janus interrupts. “Where’s Chiron?”

Sloane jerks his head down the hill. “In the Big House with the lead counselors.”

Virgil watches Janus’s brow furrow. “Seems unusual. Did something happen?”

Valerie sighs. “Kind of. Dionysus gave one of his kids a quest. Counselors are meeting about the prophecy to see who is going.”

Janus’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Which one?”

“Jack. The prophecy mentions a death. That never bodes well, and kids aren’t exactly lining up to work for Mr. D.”

Janus hums thoughtfully, his eyes trailing over the crest of the hill. Virgil watches as he shoves the knife into his belt. Kai cocks his head slightly, studying Virgil closely. Then, he looks at Janus. “Has he been claimed?”

Virgil frowns. “Claimed?”

“No,” Janus tells Kai, then looks to Virgil. “Follow me. I’ll explain as we walk.”

Janus nods to the other three and Virgil follows him down to the valley below. From this vantage point, Virgil sees the cabins Janus has been talking about, forming something like a horseshoe shape. In front of it is a large building that Virgil assumes is the ‘Big House’ that Sloane had mentioned. He sees other buildings and structures, but decides to wait to ask about them.

People mill around, most of them wearing the orange t-shirt that has a winged horse and the words Camp Half-Blood printed on them. When they notice Virgil, most of them throw a curious glance to Janus. Janus doesn’t even seem to notice.

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood,” Janus says as they walk. “It’s one of the few safe spaces left for demigods like us.”

“Wait,” Virgil says, certain that he heard Janus incorrectly. “Demigod?”

Janus glances at him. “Hm. I gather you really don’t know very much. Yes, demigod. Half-god, half-mortal.”

“And you think I’m one of these, uh, half-bloods?” Virgil shakes his head. “Listen, I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Janus looks almost amused now, an eyebrow arching almost like a challenge. “You couldn’t have gotten across the border into camp if you weren’t. Let me guess… you have ADHD and dyslexia.”

“Wh—I mean, yes, but—”

“You were raised by either a single parent or no parent at all,” Janus continues.

“My mom, until—”

“You see things others either don’t see or don’t remember.”

“I—”

“Please. Do stop me if I’m wrong.”

Virgil falls silent, his chest a bit tight. He crosses his arms over his chest as they walk.

Janus waits for a beat before he elaborates, sounding like it’s a spiel he’s given a dozen times already. “The ADHD is the battle reflexes. Dyslexia is because your brain is wired for ancient Greek, not modern English.”

Virgil’s mind is reeling. “But—”

“The things you see are because you’re a demigod. You are able to see things as they are.  Mortals—most mortals—get deceived by this thing called the Mist. Someday, with training, you’ll be able to manipulate it as well. It’s a useful skill.”

Virgil feels suddenly way too hot, and yet still has the sudden desire to pull the hood of his hoodie up over his hair. “Demigod,” he repeats, though saying it aloud doesn’t help it make sense. “Are… Are you telling me that my dad is a god? Like a Greek god? Zeus? Apollo? Those guys?”

Janus glances at him and looks, for a split second, almost apologetic. “I understand that it’s a lot to take in at once. This is why Chiron usually takes the initiation. He usually has a more, ah, sensitive means of broaching the subject. But since he’s meeting with the lead counselors, I’m afraid the responsibility falls to me.”

Virgil blinks. He can feel the pressure in his chest building and he forces himself to take a breath. It doesn’t help as much as he’d been hoping it would. “Which one?”

“Hm?”

“Which god is my dad?”

They’re passing in front of the Big House now. There’s two people standing on the front porch—a blonde girl holding a Yankees cap and a boy with a goatee leaning against the railing—seeming deep in conversation. The blonde girl offers Janus a small wave. Janus nods back.

“To your question, the answer is that we don’t know,” he says. “Since you haven’t been claimed yet, your guess is as good as ours. But you might be claimed any minute now, or never claimed at all. I was claimed three days after arriving at camp by Athena. But we have several campers who haven’t been claimed at all. Remy Short is one such example.”

“Athena. Goddess of wisdom and strategy,” Virgil remembers. He’d read that name in his mother’s library when he was younger. And he has a vague memory from sixth grade social studies.

“Indeed,” Janus replies. They circle around the house and Virgil realizes that Janus is leading him towards the semi-circle of cabins. “Since you haven’t been claimed yet, you’re designated to Cabin 11. Hermes’ cabin.”

“Janus!” A bright, cheerful voice calls from behind them. Janus stops and turns, and Virgil follows his gaze. A boy that looks about Virgil’s age, maybe a year older, is running towards them from the Big House. He’s got a flop of curly hair and big round glasses.

“Patton,” Janus greets as the boy slows to a stop near them. “Virgil, this is Patton. He’s the head of the Hermes cabin.”

Patton grins and holds out his hand. “Hi, Virgil. Welcome to Cabin 11. I’ll talk to Chiron about getting you some supplies—”

“I’ll talk to Chiron,” Janus interrupts as Virgil shakes Patton’s hand. “I need to ask him about some things anyway. Patton, could you—”

“For sure,” Patton agrees readily. “I’ll show Virgil around!”

Janus excuses himself and starts towards the Big House. Virgil rubs the back of his neck and offers Patton an awkward smile.  Now that he’s closer, Virgil realizes that Patton is maybe an inch or so shorter than him. He’s got four beads on his necklace.  

“How ya doing?” Patton asks him, startling him out of his thoughts. Virgil meets his eyes. Patton’s are a warm brown, and his smile is sympathetic. “I remember my first day at camp. It’s always overwhelming.”

Virgil huffs. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“You’ll love it here,” Patton says with a surprising amount of confidence.

Virgil arcs a skeptical eyebrow. “I’ve heard that before. I don’t seem to, ah, stay in one place very long.”

“Kicked out of school?” Patton guesses. He starts walking around the cabins and Virgil follows, slipping his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Yeah. Several times.”

“We all have,” Patton says, not unkindly. “That’s the best thing about camp. In the mortal world, we’re all labeled as weird or outcasts. But at camp? We’ve all been through it. Oh! This is Cabin 10. Aphrodite’s cabin.”

Patton walks Virgil around the semi-circle, explaining each cabin’s assigned deity. He adds that Cabins 1 through 3 are empty, though apparently there was a girl that used to be in Cabin 1—Zeus’s cabin—who joined the Hunters of Artemis and left camp. Cabin 2 was Hera’s, and since she didn’t have children, the cabin was mostly honorary. Cabin 3 usually had a kid in it, but he apparently was on some kind of recon mission and wouldn’t return for another day or two. Cabin 8—Aretmis’s cabin—is also, usually, empty except when the Hunters visit.

“Since you don’t know who your dad is, you get to bunk with us at the Hermes Cabin,” Patton explains. “We take all unclaimed kids, since Hermes is the god of travelers.”

“I thought he was the god of thieves,” Virgil says before he can think about it.

Patton smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, that too. If you’ve got anything important, maybe keep it with ya. Just in case. I try to dissuade stealing, but old habits die hard for some of these kiddos.”  

Patton leads him around the camp, pointing out the strawberry fields, the armory, and the forge that mostly gets used by the Hephaestus kids. A few of them wave at Patton, who eagerly waves back and calls a few of them by name. He shows Virgil the arena, where two kids are sparring. Patton takes a seat and Virgil sits beside him, watching the two boys circle each other.

Both of them are wearing matching orange t-shirts—Patton had told him that he’d be getting one too—and some armor. One of them has dark hair and square glasses. He’s got two knives, one in each hand, and even from a bit of distance Virgil can sees the slight sheen of sweat to his forehead. The other one’s hair is a couple of shades lighter. His sleeves are rolled up and he wields a sword and a shield.

“The one with the glasses is Logan,” Patton explains. “He’s a child of Athena. The other one is Roman. He’s a child of Apollo. I met both of them in Seattle before we made our way to camp together thanks to some help from a satyr.”

“All three of you have been claimed?” Virgil asks, watching as Roman charges at Logan who rolls out of the way and then nimbly jumps back up to his feet. He slashes at Roman’s back but Roman parries the blow with a well-timed flick of the sword.

“Not immediately,” Patton says. “Logan was claimed as soon as we got to camp, but it was a month or so for me. And Roman was nearly a year before Apollo claimed him during a campfire song. It certainly surprised a lot of people.”

“Why?”

“His brother was claimed by Ares three months before him, so most people thought Roman was Ares’ kid too.”

Virgil glances at Patton. “Roman has a brother?”

Patton’s mouth presses into a thin line for a moment, and Virgil gets the sense that it’s a touchy subject. “Yeah. Remus. It’s unusual for two kids of the same family to both be demigods, and the fact that their father are two different gods led to some… tension. Roman and Remus don’t exactly get along.”

Virgil nods his understanding and turns his attention back to the sparring pair. Roman blocks a quick slash from Logan with his shield and swipes at him with the sword, but Logan parries the blow with the other knife in his hands. Then in a series of quick movements—Virgil isn’t sure how it happens, exactly—Roman is flat on his back and Logan is on his chest with the knife to his throat.

Roman says something that Virgil can’t make out, and Logan says something in kind before he climbs off Roman and helps him up. Roman flashes a grin and shoves Logan’s shoulder before he glances past his sparring match and sees Patton and Virgil sitting on one of the benches.

Roman waves. “Heya, Padre!”

Logan glances over his shoulder and quirks an eyebrow at Virgil but stores his daggers as Roman jogs over. Patton stands and Virgil follows him down to meet Roman halfway.

“Hey, Roman,” Patton replies. “I didn’t know you started using a sword!”

Roman grabs a towel off a nearby bench and mops the sweat off his forehead. “It’s new. I’m still trying to get used to it. I think the balance is off.”

“The balance is fine,” Logan quips, stepping up beside him. “You just need more practice.”

Roman rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. “Either way, Specs. I’ll take archery any day over waving a sharp stick around.”

“You are definitely a son of Apollo,” Logan rejoins back without malice. “And it would be unwise to only be versed in ranged attack.”

“And you are definitely a son of Athena.”

“Correct.”

Virgil snorts, and then a part of him regrets it as Roman and Logan both look over at him. Virgil flushes slightly, uncomfortable with the sudden attention, but Patton seems to only perk up more.

“Oh! Sorry, this is Virgil. He’s a new camper. Janus ran into him on his way back and brought him along.”

“Which cabin?” Logan asks.

Virgil shrugs. “For now, Cabin 11, I guess.”

“Unclaimed, then.” Virgil listens for the judgement in Logan’s voice, but he doesn’t hear it. It sounds more like a flat statement of fact, as if reporting the weather. Logan nods once. “Very well.”

“I was just showing him around,” Patton supplies. “You guys wanna join?”

Logan starts shrugging out of the armor he’s wearing. “Regrettably, I said that I would assist Harley with some blueprints when I had finished sparring with Roman.”

Roman slides the sword into the scabbard at his side. “And I’m overdue for a Pegasus lesson. I can’t miss it again. The last thing I need is Mr. D giving me another earful.” Roman gives a quick two-finger salute and rushes out of the arena.

Virgil blinks at Patton. “Pegasus?”

Patton grins brightly. “Come on. I’ll show ya.”

…

Patton spends the rest of the afternoon showing Virgil around the camp. They go to the stables (where Roman offers to take Virgil for a ride but Virgil immediately declines because he’s never been a fan of flying). They swing by the beach on their way to the climbing wall. Virgil watches, amazed, as two kids climb with impressive speed and narrowly avoid the magma that starts to pour down it.

One of the kids has a Morningstar gripped between his teeth, a green bandana around his upper bicep and a matching one around his head. He’s fast, scaling the wall with a well-practiced ease. Virgil hears him laugh delightedly when his hand slips and he almost gets burned by the lava. It’s somehow both impressive and disconcerting.

“That would be Remus.”

“That’s Remus?” Virgil repeats, though when he looks a bit closer he sees the similarity in hair color and skin complexion. “I guess I see the resemblance.”

“Don’t tell Roman that,” Patton says lightly. “C’mon.”

They pass the amphitheater where, apparently, there would be a bonfire tonight. Patton shows him the volleyball court where four kids are playing one another. They wave at Patton as they pass.

“You seem popular,” Virgil supplies. He’s lost track of how many kids have waved at them as they walk around.

Patton lifts a shoulder modestly. “I dunno. Since Hermes is the catch-all cabin, a lot of camp knows me since they come to our cabin if they haven’t been claimed yet. Sometimes we get kids that get claimed right away, or kids that already have been claimed, but otherwise? I get to be their lead counselor for at least a little bit.”

“Sounds like a lot of responsibility.”

“I kind of like it,” Patton admits with a smile. “It’s like I’m everyone’s honorary camp dad.”

The conversation cuts out as dinner is called and they head to the mess hall. Patton explains the offering to the gods prior to the meal, and Virgil scrapes part of his plate into the fire. He doesn’t know what to ask for.

It’d be nice to have a family again, dad, he thinks, unsure of who he should even direct the comment to. Patton waves him over, offering a seat beside him.

Virgil chances a glance around the mess hall as they eat. The Hermes table is certainly the most crowded, though Virgil can’t say he finds that surprising. Athena’s table has several kids reading while eating. Two kids at the Ares table are in the middle of an arm-wrestling competition. One kid at the Hephaestus table is pouring over a blueprint, and Virgil wonders if that was the Harley kid that Logan had mentioned.

Towards the end of the meal, a few kids at the Apollo table starts singing “Bohemian Rhapsody” and it’s not long before most of their table is doing the entire song with harmony. Someone from the Demeter table tells them to ‘save it for the campfire’, but it does nothing to deter the Apollo kids. Virgil catches Roman laughing as he sings, one of his sibling’s arms slung around his shoulders.

Virgil glances over and sees Logan at the Athena table sitting next to Janus, watching the chaos unfold and the faintest quirk of his lips betray his amusement.

Virgil feels some of the tension in his chest relax just a little.

…

The bonfire starts around dusk. Virgil is making his way to the amphitheater from dropping supplies off at the cabin when Roman comes up from behind him and loops his arm through Virgil’s, chattering excitedly about how much he loved this part of camp. Virgil sees an ukulele case slung around his shoulder.

Logan appears a second later on the other side of Virgil, commenting dryly that the Apollo kids had done their vocal warm-ups during the dinner. This only served to lead Roman to do actual vocal warm-ups—trills and scales, specifically—as they walked. Patton and Janus were already sitting down, three rows back. Patton waves when he sees them file in. Remus is sitting beside Janus, seemingly trying to goad him into some kind of competition that he was having no interest in. The firelight glints of Janus’s scales.

“Hey,” Virgil says to Roman and Logan. “Can… I ask what happened to Janus?” He immediately regrets the question, cursing his lack of a filter, but neither of the other boys seem perturbed by the question.

“A curse from Aphrodite,” Logan answers. “Janus had gone on a quest for our mother, and it led to some… unsavory tension between himself and Aphrodite. From what he’s told me, he accused Ares of being a snake in the grass while in the presence of Aphrodite, and… well. The love goddess didn’t take kindly to that. But it’s purely cosmetic.”

Virgil arcs an eyebrow. “Remus seems chill with him.”

“I’m not sure that Remus is aware of the accusation Janus leveled at his father,” Logan muses. “And Janus is not one to hold the children accountable for the actions of their godly parent.”

“It doesn’t benefit him,” Roman adds in, using his free hand for air quotes. “Or something like that. Janus is all about himself and how he can improve his own standing.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Logan quips dryly.

Roman scoffs, but when Virgil looks at him, there’s a teasing glint to his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t going to say it, but you guys are half-brothers for a reason.”

Logan looks at Roman over the top of his glasses, but Roman just shoots him a cheeky smile as they approach the other three. Virgil slides into the seat beside Patton, followed by Logan and then Roman. There’s a few kids—Virgil isn’t sure what cabin they’re from—trying to lead a call-and-response chant as campers file in. Down the row, Remus enthusiastically calls out the responses at the top of his lungs.

“Roman!” A new voice calls out from the end of their row. A tall guy, a couple of years older than them, is holding a ukulele and jerking his head down towards the bonfire. “You ready to help me kick this thing off?”

Roman grins and jumps up. “Would be an honor, Thomas.” He rushes off and he and Thomas start playing a song together with practiced ease. He and the other Apollo kids start singing, and before long the vast majority of campers are joining in. A few of them, including Patton, sway a little. Virgil doesn’t sing, but he listens and tries to remember the words.

The sky grows dark. The Apollo kids eventually cede the floor to some Ares kids who start up another chant. More songs are sung, some snacks get passed around, and Virgil is starting to think that maybe, with time, he could get used to this.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Patton says beside him, as the next song starts. He drops something into Virgil’s lap. “I got this for ya.”

Virgil looks down. It’s two camp t-shirts. The black winged horse and the Camp Half-Blood print stares up at him. He looks over at Patton.

Patton just smiles. “Claimed or not, you’re one of us. We claim you.”

Virgil feels like maybe that’s good enough for him.

[ververa]

“I see red...”

Request: hiiii could you do a Lenore Osgood x fem reader fic (smut) where the reader would call her mommy/daddy and Lenore would call her princess or some cute pet name

A/N:  I know I'm the worst for taking so long 🙈🙈🙈 I apologize, but school and everything has been pretty hectic lately. Also I'm kinda struggling with writing, not to mention that smut definitely isn’t my strong suit, so I'm sorry if this is bad 🙈 I did my best.

Hope you will enjoy it!!!

Lenore Osgood x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW

Word count: 1,548

You laid on Lenore's king sized bed, sprawled out – just the way the older woman liked. Your hands rested on both sides of your body, your nails were digging into satin bedding as you desperately needed to keep a hold of something when Lenore made your legs spread in one swift move. It never took her too much effort. Just a simple touch of her delicate hands, her nails lightly scratching, leaving white marks on your sensitive skin - were enough to turn you into a mess. It always worked the same. It drove you crazy every damn time without fail. Lenore knew it and took great pride in being able to make you feel that way.

As your legs parted, making enough space for Lenore, she crawled onto the bed, positioning herself between your thighs. You watched her, but didn't move, remembering the rule - no touching. You knew better than to disobey Lenore. You knew that being a good girl and following the rules could be far more rewarding than misbehaving. And the truth was - you were happy to comply. You would do anything, everything for her. Whatever she wanted you to be, you would be - because nothing could compare to the feeling she gave you. Nothing compared to her and nothing had ever felt so good as being with her.

You liked the way she looked at you. You liked the way she touched you. You liked all of it more than any words could ever describe. And Lenore was well aware of it.

Lenore smiled looking at you. You adored that little smirk - the sign of satisfaction on her face, almost as much as having her hands on you. She was clearly pleased with the fact you had no panties on. You were wearing only a skimpy, black nightgown - the one she bought for you and liked so much. It wasn’t a coincidence. She knew. You had been thinking about it. Dreaming about it. Dreaming about her. She had you wrapped around her finger. She had you right where she wanted to - ready, eager, at her beck and call.

“Take it off, darling,” she said, lightly pulling at the lacy material and giving you some space.

You nodded, sitting up and stripping off the thin fabric. That’s what she liked. Obedience.

Lenore took in your naked form and smiled contently, dreamily even. That grin itself was enough to make your head spin. You definitely could lose your mind for that woman. You did lose your mind and there was no turning back…

“Lie down” Lenore ordered and you obliged immediately. “So eager, aren’t you, darling?” she chuckled, shifting, sitting in a more comfortable position.

You blushed, nodding. There was no use denying, you were way too obvious to try and do so anyways.

“Well well, then I should probably give you what you want, hm?” she said, tracing her fingers across your thigh and closely watching the way your body responded to her touch.

“Please…” you gasped.

“Please what, princess?”

“Please, touch me” you looked at her pleadingly.

“Hmm...I don’t know. Should I do it?” she teased and chuckled, as you rolled your eyes. “I need to think about it,” she said in an indifferent tone, looking at her nails instead of you.

“Please please… mommy” you pleaded, knowing it would work, as it did every time.

Lenore’s eyes widened at the title you used. It wasn't the first time you called her mommy. It probably wasn't the last time either. At least she hoped so.

It didn't matter how many times before you had called her that. It didn't matter how many more times you would do it. She could listen to it all the time. Again and again. And the power that one simple word carried would never decrease.

"You are such a good girl for me" she praised "I guess I should reward you, hm?"

You nodded eagerly. Ready and waiting as you always were for her.

"Please…" you said softly, as Lenore positioned herself between your legs once again. Her hand slid up your thigh, making you shiver. You arched your back, giving her an invitation.

"That's my girl" she chuckled, bringing her body down on top of yours - accepting the invitation.

Her lips found yours within seconds. Her hands got a hold on both your wrists and made you move them up, keep them above your head. She shifted to grab them both in one of her hands, so that she could use the other as a support. She held you like that for a while. Her lips trailed down your chin, down the center of your neck. 

"Keep them here" she said, pecking your lips, before letting go of your wrists.

You complied, as you always did. You kept your hands up, out of the way, curling your fingers and biting your lower lip, as Lenore explored your exposed skin. She explored it with her hands, with her lips, with her tongue. She was in no hurry. She let herself enjoy all the ways your body responded to her actions. You made soft sounds as she worked, sighs, giggles, a sudden intake of breath - as she moved and her lips met your stomach. She stopped then and moved forward, placing a few kisses up the space between your breasts.

She didn't keep you waiting too long. She never teased too much. She wanted to hear you moan, scream her name. She liked to watch you whine underneath her. She liked to watch you burn with desire.

Lenore raised your legs higher and you wrapped them around her. The fabric of her silky, red robe was tickling your exposed skin. 

Her lips met yours again, and as they did she entered you, inserting two fingers inside you, sliding deeper, watching you closely as you arched your back and gasped. She smiled.

"Look at me. Look into my eyes" she demanded.

Your eyes met her blue ones, which were now almost completely black with lust. Lenore smirked, before leaning in and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, pumping her fingers in and out. You kept rolling your hips, searching for even more friction.

"If you keep doing it, I'll stop" Lenore warned and you immediately stopped. You didn't want her to stop. Not when you were so close.

Her lips moved to suck on that one, particularly sensitive spot in your neck that only Lenore knew existed.

"Oh!– Uh!– Lenore" you moaned, momentarily closing your eyes.

"Who?" she pulled away to look at you with one eyebrow raised.

Your eyes opened as you quickly corrected yourself.

"M-mommy" you said, your voice shaking.

"That's it, princess" she smirked, before continuing kissing down your neck. Each peck of her lips on your sensitive skin was leaving you breathless, pushing you further to the edge. Her touch was gradually setting you on fire. You closed your eyes and drew in a hitching, shallow breath. 

"I'm gonna-" a whine escaped your lips "I'm gonna… cum"

"Cum for me, sweet girl" she said in a low voice, curling her fingers inside of you.

You gasped then moaned. And for a moment all you could see was red… Nothing in the world compared to that feeling. You had never felt anything so strong as you did with Lenore. She got your mind flying high, yet kept you completely conscious at the same time. Conscious and incomplete. 

Lenore watched as you fell apart underneath her and then observed how you slowly came down from the blissful state you were in. She stared at you with a small smile on her face. Her nails were lazily drawing different shapes on your abdomen, as she waited for you to catch a breath.

It took you a moment to finally be able to open your eyes. As you did so, you turned your head to look at her. Lenore looked into your glazed eyes and brushing your cheek asked,

"How did it feel, sweetheart?"

"Amazing" you said and met her smile with one of your own.

Lenore moved to sit up and reach for a cigarette, though before she could you rolled over and straddled her lap. The woman hummed contently as you wrapped your arms around her neck and kissed her. She placed her hands on your hips to pull you even closer. The action made you smile against her lips.

Lenore's nails dug into your back and you continued kissing down her neck and cleavage until you reached the bottom of her robe's neck. She gasped as you kept placing kisses all around the neckline. You pushed down the edge of her robe, exposing her shoulder, giving your lips more skin to conquer.

"Since I've been good, it's time you let me have a taste of you" you said at which Lenore's grin only got bigger.

The heiress undid her robe, exposing her naked body. You could feel your cheeks getting warmer. The excitement of what was next took your mind over completely.

Having Lenore's hands and lips on you felt  amazing, blissful. Though being able to return the favor felt even better. You hadn't even started yet, but you already were ready to pray and beg her for more.

Tag list: @midnight-lestrange​, @natasha-danvers​, @stopkillinglilyrabe​, @welshdragonrawr​, @saucy-sapphic​, @yang12e​, @xixxiixx​, @pradababey​, @marvelfansince08love​, @scoumastersarahismyname​, @misssmephisto​, @queeniesstrudel​

[rhys-writes-sometimes]

Music Worth Making Part 4: The Hollywood Ghost Club

Requested: sort of

Warnings: mentions of death, bad writing

Series Summery: When the reader’s life is ripped away from them, they’re distraught. But with her two best friends and three certain ghosts, maybe the afterlife isn’t so bad after all. 

Chapter Summery: The boys learn about Bobby, and drag you along to haunt him. They also drag you along to the Hollywood Ghost Club

Words: 4310

A/N: sorry this took so long, I didn’t write for a few days, and I didn’t expect this chapter to be so long. I think this is the longest fic I’ve ever wrote! please tell me if you catch any mistakes, because once again, i did not edit this. also please tell me (on anon or not!) if there is a trigger warning you want tagged. hope you enjoy! (side note: i did a little research and gentlefolk is in fact the gender neutral term for gentleman)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Masterlist

______________________________________________________

“You’re…… a ghost,” Flynn said, her face morphing from confusion, to surprise, to something that looked like regret.

You nodded glumly. 

“So that’s why you weren’t in school today? Because you died?” she shook her head. “I can’t believe this. I- I need a minute.” She ran out of the garage. 

Your face fell out of the expression you didn’t realize you had been putting on for Flynn. Taking a deep breath, you sat down on the couch, not knowing what to do.

“Hey, Y/N, I-” Julie stopped when she saw you. “You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, oh yeah, I’m fine,” you lied. You could tell that Julie didn’t believe you, but she didn’t push. You were thankful. You didn’t even know what was off.

“Okay, well, I just wanted you to know that Danny’s staying in Carlos’s room now.”

“Really?” you asked, standing up. “Thank you Jules!” you went to hug the girl, but then remembered you were made of air. 

“Yeah, no problem,” Julie said, trying to make what you had accidentally created a bit less awkward. “Well, I gotta go do homework. I guess that’s one perk to being dead, you don’t have to do school anymore.” She laughed a little as she waved goodbye. 

That was true. You had a lot more freetime now. Maybe even time to sing?

Looking around to make sure no one was there, you closed your eyes and could practically hear the start of your favorite song. You started singing along, quietly at first, but soon you were belting it out at the top of your lungs and dancing all around the room, passing through the furniture that was in your way. 

The song ended, and you smiled, happy for the first time in a while. Before you could continue on to the next song, your moment of bliss was interrupted. 

“I didn’t know you could sing,” Luke said from his spot in the doorway. You jumped slightly. You had been so caught up in the music that you didn’t notice him watching you. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, stepping into the studio. “That was really good.”

You felt your face heating up. “Thanks,” you said quietly. It was the first time you had been complimented on your voice, never having the guts to sing anywhere outside of the school choir. 

“Do you sing much?” he asked, moving to sit on the couch. 

“Um, not really, no.” You sat next to him. “My parent’s wouldn’t let me. I only sang in the ensemble for the school choir.”

“Wow. That was amazing for someone who doesn’t sing much.” You felt yourself blush slightly. He smiled at you. 

“Hey, um, would you wanna join the band?” he asked, fidgeting with his rings. 

Your eyes widened. “Join- join Julie and the Phantoms? I, I’d be honored to, but what about Alex and Reggie?”

“What about them?”

“Well, shouldn’t they get a say in it? Julie too? I mean, it’s their band, too.”

Luke waved his hand dismissively. “I’m sure once they hear you sing, they’ll agree with me.”

You bit your lip. “Even if I did join, there’s a risk of someone recognizing me. How are you going to explain that the dead kid is singing on stage with Julie?”

“I’m not. Julie would explain that,” Luke smirked, earning a playful glare from you. “Seriously though, you could wear a disguise or something. I mean, you said you just moved here a few years ago and you’re pretty shy, so most people don’t know you, right?”

“Maybe….” You knew that someone was bound to recognize you, but decided that it was a problem for Future You to figure out. “Alright, I’ll join.”

Luke bounced up. “Yessss!” he exclaimed, pumping a fist in the air. You squeaked slightly when he pulled you into a tight hug. “Sorry,” he said, loosening his grip. You smiled at him, letting him know it was fine. “Welcome to the band.”

-----

“We’re playing a school dance? Sweet!” Reggie said, looking at the poster Julie had shown you. 

“It’s not exactly the Strip,” Luke muttered, making you roll your eyes slightly.

“And you’re not exactly alive, so you should be happy we have our first gig,” Reggie retorted. 

“I wasn’t in love with the idea at first either,” Julie admitted, “but it could be a great way for us to build a following, right?”

“Yeah, we need to play wherever we can, whenever we can,” you said, nodding at Julie. 

She raised an eyebrow at you. “We?” 

You felt your heart start to speed up as you realized you had accidentally told her you joined the band. Luckily, Luke saved you from having to explain yourself. 

“Ye- yeah, we. I invited Y/N to join the band earlier. I hope that was okay,” he said, throwing an arm around your shoulders and hugging you to his side. 

Julie nodded hesitantly. “It’s fine, I just wish you had asked us first.” Reggie nodded his agreement. 

“I know, and I’m really sorry-” you started, but Julie cut you off. 

“It’s fine, Y/N, really.” She smilied at you. 

Luke smiled. “Let’s rock those kid’s faces off! And then play the clubs.”

“And then record a single that gets a billion streams?” you said hopefully.

“I don’t know what that is, but hopefully it gets us a manager and a tour,” Luke said with a smirk.

“And then we release a bunch of hit albums!” Julie said excitedly. 

“Put out a country album that does surprisingly well.” You all stared at Reggie. “I shred on the banjo,” he shrugged. 

“Then I’ll learn how to fiddle,” Julie said, fist bumping him. 

“And before you know it, we’re being inducted into the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall Of Fame!”

“But one of us isn’t there,” you said somewhat ominously. “Because we had a blow-out in 2032.”

“My money’s on Alex. He’s just so sensitive,” Reggie said, making you laugh slightly. 

“What are we waiting for, let’s get rehearsing!” Luke said eagerly. 

“Uh… where is Alex?” Julie asked just as he poofed back into the room. 

“Oh, hey Alex. Where’ve you been?” you asked the drummer. He looked slightly out of breath, and had a faint glow of happiness to him. 

“We need to start practicing,” Luke said, slightly annoyed.

“Yeah? For what?”

“Dance news!” Flynn called out as she walked in. “I don’t have a date. But I don’t care because I’m so psyched to see you guys perform.”

“Oh man, we’re playing a dance?” Alex asked, his disappointment evident in his voice. 

“Of course dude. That’s how we get a following nowadays.” Luke sat in the chair behind him. You laughed quietly. 

“Yeah, get with the program, Alex,” Julie laughed along with you. 

“What? The guys are here? Hey guys!” Flynn waved in the wrong direction. 

“Other way, sweetie,” you chuckled. “They’re sitting over here, with me.”

“Oh, yeah.” Flynn said quietly and waved in your direction. Reggie waved back.

“Okay, well, now that Alex has graced us with his presence, can we start working?” Luke asked, impatient.

“Yes! We’re gonna rehearse, you wanna stick around?” Julie asked Flynn, who frowned slightly. 

“I’m supposed to blow up 500 balloons for the school dance, but this sounds way better.”

Just then, Carlos burst into the studio and accidentally walked through Alex. “Hey Julie! Remember those orbs in dad’s pictures? I…. I think they’re ghosts.”

You, Julie, and the guys all shared a look. 

“But don’t worry,” Carlos continued, scanning the room. “This room is…. Is….” You sat forward slightly, waiting to hear his verdict. “This room is clear. I’m not getting the ghost tinglies.”

“Wrong again, little dude,” Reggie laughed. 

“Have no fear. If they come back, I will protect you because I am the man of the house.”

You laughed. “Isn’t Ray supposed to be the man of the house?”

“Isn’t dad supposed to be the man of the house?” Julie asked, echoing you. You smirked. 

Carlos crossed his arms. “There can be two,” he muttered, causing you to laugh again. “Dad needs all the help he can get, right?”

He held up a salt shaker. “According to the internet, this burns their souls out. A little sprinkle will keep them from ever coming in here.”

Your eyes widened with fear. It couldn’t possibly be true, could it? Taking no chances, you pulled your legs up into the chair you were sitting in as Carlos threw some salt your way. 

“No!”Alex screamed as some salt hit him. “Nooo! Oh god, I’m…. I’m fine. I’m totally fine,” he said when nothing happened to him. You sighed in relief.

“Flynn, could you…?” you asked, nodding your head to indicate taking Carlos out of the studio. In times like these it was useful to be a ghost that only some people could see. 

“Hey, Carlos, you know who’s hungry? Me,” she said, taking your hint. “Um, salt me a path to the kitchen.”

“Shall we try this again?” Julie asked once they were gone.

“Yes please, but remind us later. There’s some Sunset Curve songs that we wanna show you,” Luke said, standing up again. 

“Oooo, show me now,” Julie said, pushing away her microphone. 

“Yeah, okay!” Luke said, putting down his guitar and walking over to his journal. He took a paper out of it and read the title of the song: “‘Home Is Where My Horse Is’. Reggie, stop putting your country songs in my journal.”

“That was a gift,” Reggie said, winking at you. 

“Thanks, buddy.” Ignoring Reggie as he tried to get Luke to look at the song, he walked over to Julie and handed her his journal. You walked over to look over her shoulder. “I dog-eared the ones I think you would slay.”

“Who’s Emily?” You asked, the name catching your eye as Julie flipped through the pages. 

“That one’s not dog-eared,” Luke said, frantically trying to get the journal back. Julie held it to her chest. You mouthed “sorry” at him as he looked at you.

“‘If you could only know that I’d never let you go’,” Julie read out loud. “Wow Luke, I didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

“He’s not,” Alex said, walking over. “That one’s actually about-”

“No one.” Luke cut him off. “Uh, that’s just something that I tried…” Was it your imagination, or did his eyes flicker over to you? “B- but if you go to the next dog-eared page, I got a tune that’s just…. It’s got a killer beat.”

He started playing the song on his guitar. You tilted your head to the side, sure that you had heard the song before. 

“So you wanna sample,” Julie spoke up, cutting Luke off. You realized where you had heard it before. It had been one of Rose’s favorite songs. 

Luke scoffed. “What do you mean, ‘sample’?”

“Sample someone else’s music,” you chimed in. 

“My mom and I used to sing that song at the top of our lungs in the car all the time.” 

“It’s a classic Trevor Wilson song.” 

Julie nodded, thankful that you knew what she was talking about.

“Nope.” Luke picked up his notebook. “It’s a classic our song.”

“Pure Sunset Curve,” Reggie said with a smile. “I’ve never even heard of Trevor Wilson.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re mixing it up, you know, with another song,” Alex said. 

“Julie doesn’t mix up songs,” you said. “Trust me.”

“Yeah, me and his daughter used to be best friends. We used to hang out at their place all the time! I know that song.” You looked at Julie. Having moved to Los Angeles after Julie and Carrie stopped being friends, you forgot sometimes that they used to like each other. 

“Here,” she said, pulling out her computer. “I’ll prove it.”

“His first album had a bunch of hits, but none of his later stuff is as good,” you said while Julie searched his name.

The boys gasped as she turned the computer around. You looked at her in confusion. 

“That’s Bobby,” Luke said.

“Seriously? I just told you his name is Trevor,” you said, slightly concerned for his memory. 

“Okay, so he changed it, alright? That’s definitely Bobby. He was our rhythm guitarist.” Alex spoke up. Reggie stood still, clearly in shock. 

Julie scoffed. “Trevor Wilson was in your band?”

“I can’t get over how old he looks…” Reggie finally said. 

“Oh, he looks like a substitute teacher,” Alex said in disgust. 

You looked at Julie in confusion again. Sure, you had had a few bad substitutes, but you didn’t think it was enough to be an insult. 

“Julie… what were his other hits?” Luke asked hesitantly. 

“”Get Lost’.”

“Yeah. I wrote that.”

“‘Long Weekend’?”

“Yeah, Luke wrote that one too,” Reggie spoke up. You and Julie looked at him, the surprise evident on her face. 

“‘Crooked Teeth’?”

“And that,” Alex said. “It was about Reggie.”

“What?” Reggie exclaimed, shocked and slightly hurt. “I thought that was about you! I don’t like that song anymore.” You held in a laugh. 

“Wait… this is freaking me out. Trevor’s songs are kind of big to me,” Julie explained as Luke picked up some darts. “He’s the one who introduced me to rock.”

“Yeah, and Julie introduced me to rock using his music,” you said. You were freaking out a little too. You loved Trevor’s songs, so it was pretty weird to think that the ghosts standing in front of you had actually written them. 

“Yeah, Luke introduced you to rock,” Alex scoffed. 

“So this whole time, I thought you were connected to my mom. But instead, you’re connected to Carrie’s dad? Out of all the people, it had to be the one girl who had it out for me.”

“All right, well, add it to our list of questions,” you muttered. 

“Back when Carrie and I were friends, the three of us used to talk about music all the time.” Julie looked at the guys. “He never mentioned you guys.”

“And that’s unbelievable!” Luke said, throwing another dart at the board. “He can take all the credit and he doesn’t even mention us?” Reggie shook his head slightly. 

“And he’s rich,” you said. The boys all looked at you. “He has his own helicopter.”

“With his face on it,” Julie added.

“And he parks it in front of that hotel?” Reggie asked in shock. 

“No. He gets to park it in front of his mansion.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Mansion?” Reggie’s voice cracked. 

“Dude, we live in a garage,” Alex spoke up.

“It’s not about the money, it’s about the music!” Luke said, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as anyone else.

“It’s a little bit about the money though!”

“A little bit about the money!”

“He could have shared it with our families! Maybe then my parents wouldn’t have had their house turned into a bike shack!”

“What he did is steal our legacy.” 

You felt really bad for them. You couldn’t even imagine how it would feel if you had worked that hard on something, and then someone stole it. 

Luke turned to Julie. “Where does he live.”

She sighed. “Above the beach in Malibu. 

“Let’s go teach him a lesson,” Reggie said. The boy’s face was usually so kind and bouncy, but now it was stone cold. 

“Wait, what? Guys! We have to rehearse for our dance! This is our first gig, and Y/N’s first time singing with us!” Julie said frantically, standing up. 

Alex glanced at you in confusion, and you remembered you hadn’t told him yet about you joining the band. 

Before you could say anything, however, Luke grabbed your hand and poofed out. 

-----

“Bobby’s house is ridiculous!” Alex exclaimed as you looked around.

“Have you seen these platinum records?” you asked.

Reggie turned and looked at them. “Platinum?”

Luke was staring at a different set of records. “He recorded ‘My Name Is Luke’...” he muttered. “My name is Luke!”

Just then a man walked in wearing sunglasses and a leather jacket.

“It’s him!” Reggie said. 

“Hey, Carrie! I’m gonna meditate!” Bobby called out. 

“He wears sunglasses indoors,” Reggie said, disgusted. 

“I’m in the den!” Carrie called out. 

“Cool!” Bobby called out before going upstairs. 

Reggie shook his head. “I can’t stand him!”

“Time for his past to haunt him,” Luke said, a scowl on his features. 

He started up the stairs, with Reggie following him and you following a bit more hesitantly.

“Wait!” Alex called out, making you all turn around. “You know, it’s my…. It’s my first time haunting someone. I wanna make it special.”

You looked at him, confusion written on your face. “Okay, Alex,” you said before turning around and continuing up the stairs, Luke and Reggie joining you. 

“Yeah, that was weird, okay,” you heard him mutter as he followed you. 

You made your way into Bobby’s room, where he sat with candles lit. 

“Agh!” you said as you felt another jolt of pain flair through your ankle. The boys looked at you, concerned. You shook your head to let them know you were fine. It was the weirdest thing, it’s like it flared up when it was the most inconvenient….

You watched the boys giggle as Luke gave Bobby a wet willy.

You and Alex snuck over to the candles, forgetting for a moment that no one could see you, and blew them out. 

Reggie turned on the music player, which started playing a rock song. Bobby walked over and turned it off, but Reggie just turned it back on, causing Bobby to unplug it. 

You hadn’t noticed Luke sneaking away, but he was gone when the shower turned on a moment later. 

“Carrie?” Bobby asked. You giggled with the boys.

Bobby walked into the bathroom to see the shower running just as Luke turned it off. The mirror across from the shower was now foggy, and perfect for a ghost to write on.

“Ooo, Luke, you should write ‘Hello, Bobby’ on it!” you suggested through a fit of giggles. Reggie pointed at you to show his agreement. 

Grinning, Luke wrote on the mirror in his best creepy handwriting, which also happened to be his best handwriting. 

Bobby tried to run out of the bathroom, but Alex held the door shut.

“Let… Me…. Out!!” he shouted. Alex finally let go of the door and Bobby practically fell out of the room, causing all of you to laugh.

Luke grabbed your hand again and you poofed down to the patio just as Bobby was leaving. You watched as his helicopter flew over your heads. 

“Oh! Quick, let’s moon him before he gets too far away,” Reggie said, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“He can’t see us,” you reminded them.

“Oh it’s not for him, it’s for us,” Luke said as he pulled down his pants. You averted your eyes. 

“So, did you guys have fun in there?” Julie asked, storming outside. 

“Okay, you’d do the exact same if he stole all of your songs,” Luke defended them. 

“But you guys have new songs. With me. The best way to get back at Trevor is for this band to do great. And to do great, we have to play at dances, then clubs-”

“And tours, I know.” Luke walked up to her. Julie still looked mad.

“I’ll see you guys at the school. We go on at nine. Please don’t be late. There’s gonna be a lot of people there.”

“We got it, alright? Don’t worry,” Alex said. 

Julie sighed as she headed back inside. 

“I don’t care what Julie says! I’m glad we scared Bobby,” Reggie said with a small grin. “We should’ve done more! Like… like written ‘thief’ on his forehead.”

“And Alex, how did you shut the door earlier? You could barely open a garage door,” you asked, confused. 

Reggie looked at his friend, proud of him. “Learned that from your new friend Willie, didn’t ya?”

Alex blushed slightly. “Yeah, well, he taught me some things, we screamed in a museum…” he caught the look of confusion on your face. “It’s a long story.”

Luke smirked. “You think he has a few other tricks up his sleeve?”

“Let’s find out,” Alex said with a shrug. 

-----

You landed near a beach, a boy on a skateboard coming to a stop in front of you. 

“Hey, what’s up man?” he said to Alex, doing a short handshake. “You brought friends.”

“Yeah, these are my bandmates, Luke, Reggie, and Y/N.”

“Cool, I’m Willie. So, you guys here to learn some tricks?” He waved his hand in the direction of two police fourwheelers, making their sirens go off. 

Reggie’s mouth hung open. “Do it again!”

“Actually, we were thinking a little bigger,” Luke said. “An old bandmate stole from us and we wanna confront him, face to face.”

“Alright, is this, uh, friend of yours a lifer?” Willie asked. 

“Oh, that’s fancy ghost lingo for the living,” Alex said before you could ask. “Little something I picked up.”

You caught Willie smiling at Alex. 

“Ah! Then yeah, he’s a lifer,” Reggie said, using the fancy ghost lingo he had just been taught. “Too much of a fancy-pants for street dogs.”

You snorted. “Wait, that’s how you guys died?”  Julie had never told you, and you had just never discussed it with them. 

“Uh, that’s not important-” Luke started to say, but Willie cut him off.

“Wait, you didn’t die with them?”

“Uh, no,” you said, trying to stop laughing. “Some guy killed me.”

Willie winced. “Ouch.” You nodded. 

“Anyways,” Luke said, trying to get the conversation back on track. “Can you help us?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Willie said, shaking his head. “Speaking to lifers is even out of my lead.” The guy’s faces fell. “You know, but there is one ghost who might be able to help you guys. He’s kind of a big deal…”

“Literally, anything would help,” Luke said. 

“Oh, alright. Well, um, I gotta take care of some things, but I’ll meet you where Alex and I met, eight o’clock. See ya.” He skated away. 

-----

“Right this way,” Willie said, leading you into a huge ballroom-type room.

“Whoa,” Luke muttered. “So this is where your hot-shot ghost lives, huh?”

“Yeah, we’ve walked past this hotel like, a million times. How come we’ve never heard of it?”Alex asked. 

“That’s because this area has been sealed off for decades,” Willie said with a grin. “I mean, you wouldn’t even know this place exists unless you’re invited. Alright, I gotta go make sure everything’s cool, but I’ll be right back.” He turned and disappeared into the crowd.   

You inhaled sharply as the pain in your ankle flared up again. Luke looked over at you, confused, and you pointed to your ankle. He nodded, understanding.

“‘The Hollywood Ghost Club’?” Reggie asked, oblivious to what had just happened between you and Luke. “Man, this place is creepy.”

“Yeah, well, so are we.” Alex smiled.

“I don’t know about this,” you muttered. 

“Well, if you get scared, you can always hide behind me,” Alex said. “I’ll be hiding behind Luke.”

“You guys need to grow up, okay?” Luke said as Alex moved behind him. “We’re gonna get back at Bobby. He needs to pay for what he did to us.”

“Yeah.” Alex said. Then he whispered to you: “I’m still gonna hide behind him.”

Just then, Willie came back. “We’re all good!” he said with a smile. 

“Oh, uh, cool,” Alex said, flustered. “Hey, just so you know, we have like, an hour. We’ve got a gig with Julie.”

“Oh yeah, no worries.”

“Cool.”

“Let’s go.”

You all walked down the stairs, taking in all the fancy clothing people were wearing. Well, the four of you walked. Willie slid down the railing. 

“I think we’re a little overdressed,” Luke said. You smirked.

Suddenly a woman walked through Alex. 

“Whoa! I thought these people were all going to be ghosts,” Reggie said. 

“Nope. These are all lifers.” Willie gestured to the entirety of the club. 

“Oh, uh, lifers are actually-”

“Alive people, I was listening,” Reggie said, cutting off Alex with a smirk. 

“But this is a very exclusive crowd. Everybody here has uh, paid a lot to get a sneak peak at the afterlife.”

“I always knew rich people did weird stuff like this,” Reggie muttered, making you laugh. 

A ghost appeared behind you. 

“Gentleman, my lady,” he stopped and looked at you a moment. “I have a table for you.” Your heart sank as he misgendered you, but you didn’t correct him. 

“Oh, uh, Y/N here is actually non-binary,” Luke said. You beamed at him. 

“My apologies, gentlefolk. Right this way.”

You followed him to a reserved table in the front, right in front of the stage. 

Luke pulled out a chair for you to sit. You blushed. You also squealed internally when you noticed Willie do the same for Alex. 

“Okay, so who’s gonna make us visible so we can confront our old bandmate?” Luke asked Willie once everyone was seated. You looked around in wonder at the club.

“Oh, no, no. None of these lifers have the power to do that.” Dramatic music started to play out of nowhere. You thought you recognized the melody, although you couldn’t quite place it. “Oh, but here comes the ghost who does!”

“Ladies and gentleman,” boomed a voice from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, “back from the dead by popular demand, Caleb Covington!”

Willie cheered along with the rest of the club’s members as a man appeared floating above the stage. 

“Did you miss me?” he asked.

You gasped, your eyes widening.

“What?” Luke asked you. “What’s wrong?”

You turned to him with fear in your eyes. “That’s him.”

“Who?”

“The man who killed me.”

tag list: @sunsetcurvej @ifilwtmfc @xplrreylo @phantompogues @caitsymichelle13 @yagorlemmalyn

[evermorehaikyuu]

Memories

In which Shirabu Kenjirou finds his childhood best friend and what she's up to and how different they've become.

Word Count: 1162 words

Taglist: @our-tall-slytherin-queen @gg9183

Note: This does have a few mentions of blood, so do not read this if you’re sensitive about it.

Being a doctor in a city where crime ran about the streets was something that didn’t exactly bother Shirabu. He always had weapons everywhere around him, unseemly as they might be. But on the days where everything was slow, he had no choice but to have thoughts to himself.

Most of the time it involved his childhood best friend, Y/N L/N.

He didn’t know what had become of her after he went to medical school. She had said that she would chase whatever job offered the most money or let her be free. She didn’t want to be tied down to a single job.

One night, he found himself alone in the hospital, almost everyone was gone except the receptionist. However, she was on break so his surprise was immense when someone came through the front doors of the building, limping. There was something on their arms that he did not want to think was blood, but from years of working at a hospital, that’s exactly what it had to be.

The person’s face came into the light and he saw it was a girl around his age and she looked pretty injured. “I need...help.” 

Why was everyone gone when there was someone extremely injured coming into the building? “Hurry, come this way.” Shirabu led her to an empty room and closed the door behind him, deciding to take the patient himself.

It all looked worse than it actually was, but it didn’t stop the adrenaline from rushing through his veins like it always did when helping a patient. “Can you please tell me what happened to you and where and how?” He was so busy going everywhere and gathering materials that he didn’t take a good look at her face.

“Shirabu?” The voice asked, exceedingly familiar.

He turned around slowly. “I know my name is on my tag, but you never saw it clearly. How do you--” His eyes caught onto her hair and then on her face, staring at all of her features. Oh. “Y/N?”

“Well, well, well, so you did become a doctor.” Y/N laughed before holding a hand to her rib, wincing. “Never would’ve guessed it.”

Shirabu stood there, shocked as ever. “Is it actually you?”

“Uh, yeah? Are you just going to stand there and watch me kick the bucket slowly?”

Shirabu still didn’t move until she almost kicked him. He rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s you, you’re the only one that would try to kick me after meeting me in about a decade.”

She stuck her tongue out at him as he started working on fixing her up. “How did this happen to you?”

“Got into a fight with a gang member.” At his bewildered look, she shook her head. “Trust me, if you think this is bad, you should see him, he came out limping.”

“But you’re also limping and may I ask how you got into a fight with a gang member?”

“Eh, I’m the second-in-command and he wanted to take my place, no big deal.” Y/N said casually, as if this was a normal day-to-day routine for her. But Shirabu, living a life of textbooks and curing people and prescribing them, could not fathom the thought about being in a fight and coming out this injured. She spoke up again. “So how have you been, is everything good with you?”

“Hold on, can we go back to you being the second-in-command of a gang? What--what happened to you? How can you say that after not seeing each other for years?” The marvel in Shirabu’s voice was clear, but he wasn’t marveling at her, he was marveling at the fact that after years, she decides to lead their first conversation like this? She hadn’t changed much.

“Listen, I’m not you. I chose the job that would let me be free and it pays me well. If I get caught, oh well, doesn’t matter. Now, let’s go back to you, how have you been? Living it up in a fancy house with your fiance or girlfriend or whatever?”

Shirabu rolled his eyes for the second time that night. He had forgotten what it was like to argue with Y/N. Somehow it brought comfort to him but it also caused him to be annoyed. He had missed the banter more than anything. “I’m okay, I’m doing well and no, I am not ‘living it up’, I work at the hospital more often than not. I’m not you.”

Y/N laughed and shook her head. “Touché, Shirabu, touché. So you’re still single? Wow, even though you’re working here?”

“Y/N, if you’re going to make fun of my love life, I will kick you out of this building, best friend or not.”

“Awww, I’m your best friend.” He glared at her and she raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! Don’t kick me out yet, I haven’t even finished talking to you!”

“This is a weird conversation for two people meeting after years. I thought it’d be more...” Shirabu trailed off, not knowing the right words. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter, at least I know you’re still alive.” He didn’t want to tell her that he was ecstatic about her being alive. He didn’t want her to be dead, not before he had confessed to her. The whole time he was thinking of her, it wasn’t platonically. They were thoughts of what they could’ve been before they separated.

Silence fell upon them both as Shirabu continued working on her, both of them deep into their own thoughts. He spoke up. “Knowing you, you’re going to strain yourself so I am forcing you to not do anything dumb or that exceeds your strength because these injuries are not going to be healed by me, got it? I have other things to do.” Why can’t you just tell her? Shirabu yelled at himself in his mind. 

It really wasn’t simple to confess someone as so many shows made it seem.

Y/N smirked as he wrapped a bandage around her arm. “You know, you’re pretty uptight for a doctor. I had hoped medical school had changed you but alas, nothing can change him because his stupidity matches that of his haircut.”

Gritting his teeth, he grumbled, “Can you shut up, I’m trying to concentrate, you dumbass.”

“Ooh, you wanna kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid.”

Shirabu tightened the bandage and pressed his lips onto hers, shutting her up quickly and pulling away just as fast as the kiss had begun. “Maybe I do, now can you stay still?”

The rest of the time Y/N stayed still and let him take care of her, both of them with their faces flushed about the kiss. However, it didn’t stop them from sneaking glances at one another whenever they could. It was strange, but he was glad that she had come in when he was the only one in the hospital.

[therealsehinton]

i think one of the suckiest things about being an overall outspoken person on the internet is that i often get grouped in with other outspoken people, especially if we often share similar opinions. and it’s one thing for me to be called problematic for “constantly calling innocent people out,” i can handle people thinking that of me and it isn’t all that objectively wrong. but it’s an issue when people assume my morals, and i find it weird because i feel like i’ve made my morals pretty clear and yet people constantly misrepresent them

people like to assume i am a hypocrite i guess, because “i allow myself and my friends to ship this one ship with a 3 year age difference and not this other ship” or “i can have all the race hcs i want but when someone else does they’re stealing/they’re racist” or “i can write all the sensitive materials i’d like but when other people do they’re pedos”

and, again, i think it’s weird because i feel like i’ve made my stance on everything abundantly clear? i think people are misconstruing my words and opinions to give themselves an excuse to hate me. and like. you can hate me all you want, that’s your right, but don’t hate me for silly reasons you’ve made up in your head

do i think people are racist when they hc characters to be white? uh, no. it’s not my business, i don’t agree and therefore i won’t interact with them, but i don’t think they’re racist. it’s their hc and i have my own. i think people are racist when they tell me “i don’t understand the implications of my hcs” or “they’re not realistic” or try to educate me on my own history, especially when they’re white. but having your own hc? that’s okay i don’t care. yes i make jokes but i use tone indicators and oh well, boo hoo, i make a few jokes. laugh babes! they’re funny

and i don’t think people who are inspired by hcs steal from me, and i like ppl being inspired by my ideas and i love being inspired by other people, and i love having conversations like “your idea is amazing can i use it in a fic?” or “that’s great i’m stealing that.” but it’s very suspicious when you take a hc of mine and then block me, cuz if you block me after using one of my hcs it’s extremely suspicious and it makes me think you got something weird up your sleeve. and i think i have every right to assume that like??? you blocked me

i don’t hate dallyboy and i will be 100% honest, i was always majorly annoyed when people just randomly shat on it for no reason. it’s a ship. it can be aged up. and i really don’t give a fuck and i don’t like the self righteous behavior so many people have when it comes to their pairings. you can say whatever you want about me, but i never act self righteous when it comes to the people i pair together, at least not un-ironically. and if people think me criticizing the romanticization of tally is self righteousness, i think you need to get your head checked. in all my critiques of tally i said i enjoyed the pairing i just thought it was WEIRD that you have two guys who canonically beat each other up physically and then 13 year olds are writing about them impregnating each other, it’s weird. and it trivializes domestic abuse and i think that’s a okay to say

also i’ve never called someone a pedophile, or even implied it. i don’t think that sex is a terrible inhumane thing that should never be written. and i don’t think that writing victims of sexual assualt or csa should be illegal. i believe that trauma porn is a horrible, awful, exploitation of graphic material and should be abolished in all forms. and idc if its tagged, its disgusting that it exists. and i will always hate trauma porn and i will continue to criticize you if you write it. i don’t care if you have good intentions or if the situation is “supposed to be bad.” there’s no reason any person should graphically write scenes of people getting assaulted or hate crimed or hurting themselves. and no i am not talking about just one person, and i’m not even talking about this fandom, and i’m not even looking out for “the children.” this is a genuine issue that is normalized on tv, on film, in books and in fanfiction. and it sucks that victims of racism and assault and etc are constantly subjected to people who play with their tortured fantasies of graphically depicting their trauma. 

anyways, idk what else to say. only that i don’t feel comfortable being grouped with a bunch of white 13 yo justice warriors who think they’re saving the world by constantly picking fights with adults/other people for no reason. if i argue it’s cause i’ve been tagged or vague posted, and i literally get vague posted all the time so atp i’m not even fighting with people who vague post me. i’m not gonna go out of my way to cause a scene or drama because i don’t need to scream what my morals are 24/7 so people understand that i’m “woke.” i don’t need to prove my wokeness to anyone, i’m a black enby lesbian so if i weren’t woke that’d be pretty fucking stupid of me 

[thatsbucknasty]

she used to be mine (v) waitress au

summary: Inspired by the broadway musical. Y/N Beck is a pie baking force to be reckoned with. She’s pregnant with her lazy ass husband, Quentin Beck’s baby. As everything around her turns upside down, Doctor James Buchanan Barnes charms his way into her life.

pairing: Y/N x Bucky

I will put some warnings in the tags cause I don’t want to spoil everybody but I feel like there are sensitive topics in this one, so go ahead and check the tags!

chapter 5: you will still be mine

You’d think that having an unplanned pregnancy, an unemployed lazy husband and an exhausting job that underpays would be just enough to realize you’re having a bad year. But now, on top of that, said unemployed lazy husband’s truck broke down and I just can’t afford to fix it right now, he’s asking for money cause he already took it to the shop without consulting with me, and it’s not like I can just give him my savings.

He was out all night yesterday, drinking I assume. I have to tell him I’m pregnant. And also, I have to walk to work and to my doctor’s appointment later today, because I can only afford one bus ride per day and usually it would be the one back home from work cause Quentin would drive me in the morning. Life’s just fine and dandy isn’t it?

I’ve seen those videos where women will make a big deal showing their spouse the little pregnancy test and record their reaction. It usually involves tears and hugs and all things pretty, and I can’t help but feel like I’m never gonna have that kind of life. The one with balloons and cake and glitter for the gender reveal party and the baby shower. And I’ve never even wanted those things, but I’m pretty sure Quentin’s reaction will be the farthest from tears and hugs and all things pretty.

-

“Morning, Y/N, you’re late again. It’s the third time this month”. Sam looks angry at me from the counter, at least he’s back to his grumpy self but I feel bad nonetheless.

“I am so sorry Sam, I swear I’m not doing it on purpose, it’s just that I had to walk and you know 4th street’s closed and-

“Hey, calm down girl. I understand. I know y’all think I’m rude and moody all the time but I just like teasing ya... if you ever need help I can give you a ride in the morning”. Great, now even Sam is pitying me.

“And I know what you’re thinking. ‘He’s pitying me’”, he rolls his eyes at me, “but I care about you girls despite all of our bickering. I’m just offering my help cause we’re pals, aren’t we?” He offers me a cup of coffee and I decline but sit down on the stool.

“Why aren’t you drinking coffee Y/F/N?” Oh shit.

“I uh, I-” Shit, shit, shit.

“Y/N?, tell me what’s going on?”

“Fuck, Sam, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. We are pals, we are! But I didn’t want Nick to know cause I thought he might fire me. I’m pregnant”. I finally sigh and hide my face in my hands, trying hard not to cry in front of him. “God, this is embarrassing”.

“Hey! There’s nothing to be ashamed of here. I understand, actually a lot of things make sense now. The girls know, don’t they?” I hum my answer, my face still in my palms.

“Have you told Quentin yet?” I shake my head and look down at the orange juice he puts in front of me instead of the usual coffee, huh, he can be nice when he really wants to.

“You’re in a real conundrum, aren’t you?”

“Yes I am. He hasn’t been working for the past three months. He didn’t come home last night and we fight almost every day. I don’t know when I’ll start showing but my uniform barely fits and my feet are swollen from walking here. It’s just a matter of time until he notices. I can barely afford my doctor’s appointments. Oh! And I might have a tiny crush on him”.

“Your doctor? Wasn’t he married?”

“How did you- nevermind. Well, he’s getting a divorce, but I am married so nothing’s gonna happen either way”.

“Jesus, I wish I could do something to help you. My offer on the ride still stands, okay?”

“Thank you, Sammy. You’re very kind but knowing my husband, he would never allow it. He’d rather I walk with my swollen feet everyday and I don’t wanna fight with him. I’m just so tired”.

“Y/N, I know this ain’t my place but, why are you still with him?”

“I honestly don’t know anymore. I keep making up reasons when Nat tells me to ‘leave his ass’ but I can’t think of any more good ones”.

-

The diner was very quiet today, most Tuesdays it is because Al’s Pancake World has a discount. Sam swore he’d keep the secret about my little crush. I just don’t want Nat to have more material for insisting I should leave Quentin right now. And now I’m walking over to the doctor’s office.

The air tonight is so crisp and I appreciate how summer is about to end. Fall has always been my favorite time of the year. I can’t wait for the diner to smell like pumpkin pie every day. Speaking of pie, I brought Bucky some leftovers.

“Good evening, Y/N. Oh gosh, you brought pie?” 

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“I’m starting to think I should give you something back, you really didn’t have to”.

“Oh don’t worry about it, it’s just some leftover ‘Kick in the pants pie’, I know, the name’s a little too aggressive but I had a bad week, don’t judge”.

“No one’s judging here. But care to explain the name?”

“I just- I had a fight with my husband earlier, and whenever I wish I could do something that’s not very nice, I just make it into a pie, you know… to express my feelings in a non-violent way”.

“So you wish you could kick your husband’s crotch but you made a pie instead, got it”. It’s insane and we both laugh about it for a minute and he leans back into the exam table. This is nice, having a friend who I can openly talk about my issues with. Wait, are we friends?

“Do you and your husband fight a lot?”

“Um… why are you asking me this?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just- stress is bad for the baby and, I don’t know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay”, I lean into the exam table next to him, close to him, “we do, we fight a lot. He drives me nuts, and I’m a pain in his ass. That’s just us I guess”.

“I get it. I was a pain in Dot’s ass too”, he scoffs out a cynical laugh and looks at me, “guess she couldn’t deal with that anymore”.

“Can I ask what happened?”

“You can, but I wouldn’t know how to answer. She just got up and left one day. Said she got an internship in New York and we weren’t working anymore, so- she didn’t even give me a real reason, nor a chance to work things out”.

“I’m sorry, Bucky”.

“It’s fine. We always wanted different things. I was raised in a small town and when I went to Chicago for college I was miserable. But I met Dot and I thought life in a big city wouldn’t be so hard if I had her by my side. But then she wanted to do even bigger”.

“Like New York?”

“Yeah. I’m not cut out for that. I love this little town of yours, always did”.

“Oh, so you’ve been here before?”

“Yeah, my grandparents lived here and I would come visit for the holidays. You actually remind me of my grandma”.

“Gee, thanks?” He throws his head back laughing.

“No, I mean because she used to bake like, ten different pies for Thanksgiving. She loved baking. And she was also a little-” He eyes me sheepishly and makes a face.

“A little what, huh?” I smack his arm and try not to laugh at his stupid, cute antics.

“Well, a little strong willed?”

“That’s a euphemism for stubborn”.

“Yeah, it is”. He has the audacity to smirk at me and I can’t help but smile because he says it in a way that feels like a compliment.

Bucky finishes the examination and tells me he’d like to see me again in three weeks. He opens the door for me and we do a little dance of who gets out first. We laugh at each other’s clumsiness and I feel like a teenager. He smells nice, like always. I say goodbye and I find myself hoping the next three weeks go by quickly. I glance at my watch and notice the time. Fuck, has it really been two hours? My appointments usually last thirty minutes tops.

-

“Hi, Y/N”. Fuck, he’s here already?

“Jesus, Quentin, you startled me. What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to see the game at Phil’s tonight”.

“Yeah? And I thought you were supposed to come home early, you said no extra shifts on Mondays”.

“I- I was-”

“Now don’t lie to me, cause I found your money! That’s right, I did! Why were you keeping money in the closet, huh? I took the money, paid Carl to fix the damn truck and drove over to Nick’s and you weren’t there. That angry redhead chick said you left early, so where, the fuck, were you?” He grabs an empty bottle of beer and throws it against the wall.

“Quentin. Stop it, you’re scaring me! Calm down!”.

“I won’t calm down until you tell me where you were!” He grabs another bottle and raises it above his head, aiming straight at me, I’m frightened and I don’t know what else to do but-

“I’m pregnant!”

Silence. Complete and utter silence. He lowers his arm along with the crystal bottle he’s holding. Tears cascade down my face silently and I can’t help them. I hate crying in front of Quentin but he truly scared me. He’s never been violent towards me. Sure he yells a lot but he never gets like this, and I’m sure he would’ve thrown that bottle at me if I hadn’t told the truth.

“Please say something”.

“You can’t be pregnant, Y/N, and if you are it isn’t mine”. He whispers and I don’t know if I heard him right. I’m at a loss for words for a few seconds.

“Why would you say such a thing? It is yours!”

“No it isn’t! I don’t want it!” He’s yelling again and his words break my heart. If I had the smallest belief that he actually cared for me, it’s gone.

“Quentin? Do you remember that night I went to the Stark’s party with you and we both got drunk? You were wearing your fancy blue shirt with the grey tie, and I had that red dress that you like. This baby is yours. And if you-”

“No, it isn’t! I said it isn’t, Y/N. I- I can’t do this with you, I can’t and I won’t!

“What are you talking about?!”

“You remember Alice? You met her at that party”.

“Right, mini skirt girl, I remember. What about her?”

“She and I-” He looks down at his feet and then back into my eyes and I see it.

“No”. My blood begins to boil. This bastard!

I feel a huge knot in my throat and I can’t breathe. All this time I’ve been grasping for something, anything. Clinging for this marriage to work. Feeling guilty about baking a stupid pie for my doctor, when he’s been sleeping with some girl who’s probably ten years younger than him?!

“No!” I grab the nearest object and throw it at him. And of course it’s a fucking pillow- “Get out! Out, I said! And don’t ever come back!” He’s backing down, opening the door and I yell at the top of my lungs, I don’t care if the neighbors hear me- 

“That money you stole from me was for the doctor’s appointments and the hospital bills, I saved up all of that for this baby, your baby, alone!  And you’re gonna pay me back! I kept a roof over your fucking head, paid for your fucking beers and you cheated on me? If you ever come near me or this baby I will kill you, you hear me?”

I grab his keys and put them on my apron’s pocket.

“And I’m keeping the stupid truck!”

He leaves, on foot, and just like that I’m a single mother. 

“AH!”

What is this? The most terrifying pain strucks my pelvis and I feel a discharge in my underwear. No, no. Baby don’t do this. We are gonna be fine, you and I. I promise. Please. Don’t.

-

chapter 6: a soft place to land

a/n: pls reblog if you liked it c: and don’t kill me, I promise fluff is coming!

[maryroyale]

The lovely @curiouselfqueen tagged me on this one. (Thank you! I love these things.)

Uh. I have *feelings* about these? I have no idea why I feel so strongly, but... uh... there you go.

deep violet or blood red? Both? Not at the same time, but I love both. Purple and red are both power colors, but they convey very different things. Old ladies are allowed to wear both because they have the power to pull it off.

sunshine or moonlight? Oof. My default answer is moonlight? Some of the medication I’m on makes my eyes super-sensitive to sunlight. I’m like a damn vampire. Even on cloudy days I need sunglasses. I like seeing the sunlight through the trees when I’m in the woods? It’s pretty and far less painful.

Don’t get me wrong—I do love the moonlight. It’s so beautiful. Winter moonlight and summer moonlight are gorgeous.

80s music or 90s music? How dare you! Don’t speak to me or my 874 music genres ever again. Seriously though, I really love music. I listen to a wide variety of genres and some artists span decades. I love new wave and synthpop, but I also love pop punk and the swing revival. I can’t say one decade is better than the other.

orchids or dahlias? I like to garden, and from a gardening standpoint it’s dahlias all the way. Orchids are a wildly diverse species (over 25,000 types), but the pretty, delicate orchids they sell in stores are not hardy and require a lot of intensive, specific support. They’ll die if you plant them outside where I live. And the garden outside is what makes me happy and brings me joy.

garnet or ruby? These are such different stones. It’s almost like asking if I like chocolate milk or cola. Yes, they are both brown and you can drink them—but they’re really not similar.

Garnet— it’s semi-precious, plentiful, in use since antiquity. A decent go-to stone for jewelry. Like any gemstone, the color is determined by the type of impurities, so garnet can be almost any color. Blue garnets are the rarest. The Mohs scale for garnet depends on those same impurities because some can actually strengthen the hardness of the stone. Generally 6 to 7.5 on the Mohs scale.

I like garnets. Depending on the talent of the jeweler you can get lovely pieces set in silver that won’t cost an arm, a leg, and your soul. It was also my mother’s birthstone, so there’s that.

Ruby— Occasionally confused with spinels, rubies are pieces of corundum that contain the impurity chromium. Corundum that contains the impurities iron, titanium, vanadium, or magnesium are usually blue and referred to as sapphires. (Pink sapphires are actually poor quality rubies that the jewelry industry decided to rebrand to dupe the public. Similar to “chocolate diamonds” and other attempts to sell gems that don’t meet the criteria for their type.)

Corundum is a 9 on the Mohs scale. They highly sought after, have a rich mythos surrounding them, and feature prominently in history.

It seems like a lot of hype to me? They’re sturdy pieces of jewelry, not prone to breakage, but they ought to be for the price you pay. They’re pretty, I’ll grant you that.

moths or butterflies? Well, one is nocturnal and one is diurnal. One is fuzzy and stocky and one is smooth and slender. One is drab and one is brightly colored. I feel like I should picks moths on principle. I love Luna Moths. But butterflies are so very, very pretty. Moths I guess?

Aphrodite or Athena? Okay... so, um, here’s where it’s going to get heated. I apologize. I am *specifically* addressing how Athena and Aphrodite were worshipped/treated in Greek myths. I’m not looking at proto versions from Minoa, Mycenae, or Phoenicia. I’m also not looking at later syncretizations with other cultures e.g. Rome. It is the Greek myths that matter here because those are the myths and attitudes that were directly incorporated into Western culture. We’ve learned a lot about their origins, but *those* myths and attitudes were *not* incorporated into mainstream Western culture.

Athena was either born from Zeus’ head or his thigh. Either she has no mother—Zeus is her only parent—or Zeus swallowed her mother Metis (wisdom, prudence, counsel). This is critically important. In Athenian law, the father was the only legal parent. Mothers had no legal rights to their children at all. Athena is a very real symbol of that.

She is often portrayed as the goddess of wisdom, handicraft, and war. She is a goddess of industry (wine and olive oil). The thing we must ask is what kind of wisdom? What kind of war?

Plato argues this in Cratylus— that Athena’s wisdom could be a number of things from divine knowledge to moral intelligence. I think it’s important that Plato, one of Greece’s most celebrated philosophers, and more important one of the philosophers most embraced by Western Culture praised this choice of “moral intelligence.” [see Plato’s stance on poets in The Republic.]

Athena’s war is not the war of Ares, which is tied to passion and emotion. Ares represents the brutal aspects of war where humanity gives way to cruelty and inhumanity. Athena’s warfare is rational and “just.” Athena makes war on behalf of the city-state. Athena makes war to defend the government.

Athena’s purpose in myth and in poetry and song is to support the government. She is the shield of the king. She upholds and enforces the status quo. Look at her role in the Orestes trilogy. She supplants the Erinyes [the furies originally hunted and tormented ppl who committed matricide]. She decides that Iphigenia’s murder didn’t matter. Clytemnestra (Iphigenia’s mother) didn’t have the right to revenge for her daughter. Orestes was *justified* in murdering his mother because she killed his parent, his father.

Aphrodite also has a motherless birth, but it’s more incidental and spontaneous. Kronos cuts off his father Uranus’ genitals ( like you do ) and tosses them into the sea. Aphrodite is born from the sea foam. There’s a different feel to Aphrodite’s myth. An independence almost. Yes, a male god was involved because it’s a Greek requirement for any child, but it’s in such an incidental way. There was no purpose or intent on Uranus’ part. He had no control over her birth.

Aphrodite is an incredibly independent goddess. She owns her own sexuality and has autonomy over her own body. She is often referred to as the wife of Hephaestus, but in both the Iliad and Hesiod’s Theogony, Hephaestus has wives with different names and Aphrodite is unmarried.

A goddess with this kind of freedom and power in her own right—not tied to a husband or male family member (sorry Artemis!)— is almost unheard of. It makes Aphrodite unique and interesting.

TLDR: I prefer Aphrodite.

grapefruit or pomegranate? Pomegranate. For so many reasons, not the least of which is it’s associations with death and fertility. It’s a lovely contrast and a reminder that death brings forth life e.g. Nurse logs.

angel’s halo or devil’s horns? Oof. This is another rant, guys. Horns as a symbol of divine power are used throughout history and throughout the Indo-European culture. From Egyptian gods like Amun and Isis to Hindu gods like Śiva to Canaanite gods like El and Yahweh, horns have been used to show their power and might. Moses has most famously been depicted with horns due to murky/difficult translations of the Hebrew verb keren/qaran, which can mean BOTH “to send forth beams/rays” and “to be horned”.

There was a concerted effort to associate horns with the devil/evil/bad. Horns are also used to imply fertility/abundance, and that may have played into the perception of horns as devilish. Moses with horns was used as a jumping off point to demonize Jewish people during the Medieval period in a variety of European countries and cultures.

Halos, too, have been used across history and cultures as a symbol of divine power. Sumerian literature talks about a bright emanation that appears around gods and heroes. Chinese and Japanese Buddhist art shows Buddhist saints with halos.

I choose horns because I choose to reclaim that divine power. I reject the idea that either symbol is wholly good or wholly evil. I reject the idea that sexuality by itself is evil/wrong.

sirens or banshees? Both!!! I must admit a partiality to Sirens that is based wholly on my preference for the sea/ocean.

lorde or florence + the machine? Both!!! I love both groups and I’ve listened to their albums so many times. I will admit that I end up listening to Lorde more often when writing.

the birth of venus or the starry night? Huh. I’m going to assume that you mean the painting by Boticelli, even though there’s more than one Birth of Venus.

Honestly, Venus Anadyomene (Venus rising from the sea) is my favorite. It’s her origin myth and anyone could paint it, draw it, write about it, and put their own spin on it. It is malleable because it is myth. It lives on and changes and grows with us. Boticelli’s version is particularly lovely.

Starry Night (1889) belongs to VanGogh. No one can really recreate it without copying his style or his vision. Verschuier’s The Great Comet of 1680 Over Rotterdam could never really be confused with Starry Night. Not even Munch’s Starry Night (1893) could be confused for VanGogh. The two paintings are wildly different in subject matter despite the fact that their subject is the night sky.

I doubt any modern painter would dare. O’Keefe called hers Starlight Night, and I can only guess that others would follow that naming pattern of not quite using the title Starry Night.

Boy, I bet @curiouselfqueen is regretting tagging me now... sorry?