#if i had to guess id say the point of writing they were brought in for was filling in conversation interjections and the reactions

[eurekq]

I feel like people are reading a lot into that baudelaire welch message that really isn't present? It sounds to me like they were assigned to finish up astarions writing during crunch (still bad) rather than making the decision to do that voluntarily. That + the fact that most of his extra scenes were already present in early access (he's very front loaded in terms of content) and iirc the extra durge content for astarion is like... from what I remember basically just the breakup conversation, some mid-conversation lines (ie. "but you're MY leaking blood bag"), and the first night durge scene which is again, like, three lines of dialogue tacked onto a scene that would occur with or without him. While astarion IS clearly larians darling and that's not good (if I had to guess I think it's because the devs really like neil newbon's performance, as he's not actually the most popular among fans) I think baudelaire welch is getting a lot of undeserved vitriol over what amounts to probably like 20 lines of dialogue max. Something also to note is that companions amount of content is distributed differently; wyll has far more actual dialogue trees to go through in my experience, and karlach and shadowheart have a lot of environmental interaction in act 3 and act 2 respectively. Also worth noting that my game was incredibly glitched in act 3 though, so I may have missed a lot. All this to say that larian definitely had a favouritism problem but, especially given that they only joined on in 2022, which is after a lot of astarions scenes were already written, I don't think baudelaire welch is the boogeyman people are acting like they are. I'd need a full interview from them to really know what was going on leading up to release rather than. One discord message. Actually why are they even in a discord with fans that's such a bad idea

[luveline]

hello jade! i just want to say i absolutely adore your writing!! if you have the time, could we see some more grumpy steve in the zombie au? id love to see anything from before the college, i just miss that grumpy era! <3

thank you my love!! steve zombie au —you try to make sense of why steve is so grumpy. 1k, fem!reader

"No," Steve says. 

You sigh and turn away from him, hands braced either side of your face. Steve doesn't talk much, but when he does, his favourite word is no. 

"Why not?" you ask. 

"There's nothing left in Hawkins," he says, stepping with ease over a huge puddle of diesel, the expelled gas strong enough to make you feel nauseous. 

"There's, you know, our homes." 

"What's the point?" he asks. "I'm trying to be fair here. What's the point in going back when everyone is gone and half the town was burned to the ground?" 

You ease over the diesel puddle with much less ease, muttering expletives to yourself when your left foot sinks into the instep. Now you'll smell like diesel for the next week. Great. 

There isn't any point in going back home, but that doesn't mean you don't want to. There really is nothing there, half the town was on fire when you bolted, the Hawk, the school, anything that would catch. It was an organised arson by the escape group you and Steve were supposed to be in (or rather, just Steve, flame to draw the geeks attention. You hadn't known anyone who knew anyone that knew the plan, so you hadn't realised everybody was leaving until they were already gone, the sound of what must've been fifty cars departing northward your lone clue. 

You kick the floor as you and Steve step out of the road and back onto the dirt path beside it, hoping the grass and mud will soak up the acrid smell stuck to your shoe. You'd brought Hawkins up because you're still grieving. Because you want someone to talk to about what you've lost, and Steve isn't abiding. 

"What guarantee is it that the world isn't just as razed as Hawkins?" you ask without pep. 

"There's no point thinking about it that way. We keep moving or we die. We go home, we die. We need to keep going and if we're fast enough, we can catch up to the Hawkins group. It'll be safer when it isn't only the two of us." 

And you'll never have to speak to me again, you think morosely. 

Steve is handsome. He went to your high school, though that was, like, four years ago. He's not the kind of guy who wasted time with girls like you, you know that. You guess you'd been hoping he'd be nicer alone. 

"You're not how I remember you," you say. 

"I don't remember you," he says. 

"Why would you?" you ask. You pretend to mess with the zipper on your jacket rather than look in his direction, worried he'll meet your eye, and see the actual hurt in your expression. "I was nobody, and you were a jock. Everyone knows how that goes."

"It's not like that," he says. 

You bat a rogue insect away from your cold cheek. You hate the forest. "What's it like?" you ask. 

"It's not about what kind of person you were. I had a lot going on back then." 

"Like what?" 

"Like getting beat up so bad I had a concussion twice in the same year," he says. 

"Woah." You look at him through the corner of your eye. "You got beat up that bad twice?" 

Steve doesn't answer you. You continue following him, making your way across a big stretch of road, the next crop of buildings about twenty minutes away if you had to guess. The weather is brisk, the sun occluded by grey clouds, and the air smells like ash. The sky is a hazy shade of white.

"Wait, by Jonathan Byers?" 

"No, he's the one who didn't give me a concussion," Steve says contritely. 

"Oh. Hey, you don't have to look so down about it, Harrington, this is a good thing. I can trust you, now." 

"You didn't trust me? I've been feeding you for the past week." 

"Yeah, but you're a guy I don't really know. I was worried you might try to kill me and eat me in my sleep or something when the food ran out, but now I know you're bad at fights, I'm not so worried." 

"Fuck off," he says dryly. 

"I'm bad at fighting too, if you were wondering." 

"I wasn't." 

"Hmm. Who beat you up the third time? I know that jerk Hargrove got you." 

"Just some guy."

"Must've been an angry guy," you mumble, looking at him with your head tilted. 

Steve is an asshole often and unapologetically to you, but you don't think you want to hurt him. He's shown you that, while he sucks, he knows how to be nice. He makes sure the blankets are covering your shoulders before you fall asleep, and he gives you bigger portions if he hears your stomach grumbling. Plus, no guy so eager to find their best friend can be evil, you think. He must have a whole lot of love stored up. Or stored down. Deep down inside. 

"Stop staring at me," he says. 

"Okay." You stare at him some more. He has a nice nose. He has really nice eyes, kind of hooded and almond shaped at once, brown irises that look dark as tree bark as the sun goes down. "Well, I won't beat you up." 

"Thanks," he says. He sounds less grumpy. You try to push it further. 

"I'm really sorry," you say, slowing your steps a touch. He slows to match you. "That someone hurt you like that. Twice. I know concussions aren't funny, that it must've sucked to recover from them." 

"I had a perforated eardrum," he says. "It hurt like hell. All of it did."

"I'm sorry," you say gently, offering him a sympathetic smile. 

He smiles back. "Not your fault," he says quietly. Then, louder, "Don't walk so slow. We need to be inside soon, the sun is setting." 

"Yes, sir," you say, saluting him sarcastically. 

He doesn't speak to you for half an hour. You don't mind so much, especially when, the next time you come across a puddle of diesel (someone seriously needs to learn how to syphon gas properly), he holds out a hand and helps you cross it, even though you could've easily walked around.

[dailyhonakana]

HI admin 🎼 here for day 4!! almost forgot to post this today, but i wrote it yesterday while having thoughts about them in the kitchen. this card image isnt entirely accurate, but i couldnt find any other images of them in the kitchen together, so it works i guess! heres a drabble (which turned out slightly longer than id wanted it to!) about kanade being a lesbian

—

Tapping her pen against the table, Kanade can’t concentrate. She can’t think at all, even when she knows the rest of her group is already full of ideas for their next song. She could blame it on the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window, which she normally doesn’t open the blinds of, but that’s not bothering her all that much, and Honami seems to like it better that way (especially with how lovely the tone of the sky’s light becomes at dusk — Honami had pointed that out to her, and she can’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before). She could blame it on the fact she’s outside at all and not holed up in her bedroom, but Honami (ever-politely) insisted she come outside to do her work, and she doesn’t mind it; she does like making Honami happy, too. Maybe she’s not meant to be writing her ideas down on a notepad? No, probably not — that was Honami’s idea as well. Kanade’s been using the pen and the notepad since Honami gave them to her two months ago. They’ve served her well so far. So has everything else Honami has suggested, or gently pushed her to do, or brought to her home with a shy smile and a reminder that if she doesn’t like it it’s okay and she can give it back, even though she never does.

She glances at the pretty set of plates, neatly laid out on the table, that she’d found in her cupboard months before; the new towel that always smells faintly like apple pie, from Honami’s home, where it was no longer in use; the open blinds in front of Honami. Kanade stares at her, and briefly, she wonders how Honami must look to someone not tragically forced to only stare at her back. Strands of light shining on her softly smiling face as she hums, chopping something, as though it’s the only thing in the world she needs to do…

Kanade blinks, and quickly looks down at her blank notepad. The stray, traitorous thought that her one distraction is right in front of her passes through her mind. She shoves it down with the nagging thought that she needs to do her work. Then, she looks back up at her housekeeper, wondering how strong her arms must be. Stronger than hers, strong enough to chop carrots, although that probably wasn’t a high bar. But they were certainly strong from years of playing the drums-

Honami suddenly turns to face her, brows furrowed in worry, and Kanade flinches a little. She doesn’t notice. “Ms. Yoisaki,” she says hurriedly, “you do like carrots, right? I’m sorry, I only just remembered to ask you if you did, I know I should have beforehand, but I’ve already chopped almost all these…”

Oddly, Kanade feels a smile trying to make its way onto her face. She tries her best to force it away. “No,” she says. “I like them.”

“Oh.” Honami smiles in relief. “I’m glad,” she says, before turning around again to chop the last carrot. Kanade rests her head on her palm and just watches her for the little time she has before she’s done cooking.

[athielive]

hiiiii!!! i absolutely loved your snowed in mischa x reader, the concept overall is really cute and you’re a really good writer :)) i was wondering if you could please write a similar fic except with noel x male reader? if not that’s okay but there is not enough x reader content for him lmao

YES ID LOVE TO. i started writing it earlier and i got half way through but i cant recover it im so upset im about to restart.

I dont know if it’s that good but I hope you like it <3

also thank you for requesting one :)))

————————

French had always been your least favourite subject. No matter what you couldn’t understand any of it.

Luckily you had Noel, the top of the class.

You met in the choir and had known each other for years. He was your best friend and the only person you were truly comfortable with.

After knowing him for a few months you ended up developing feelings for him and questioned your sexuality for a while before coming out to him as gay. He was the only person who knew.

Noel had always been fairly open about being gay, because of this he faced years of bullying. More recently it had died down because everyone had grown up, but seeing it all happen and comforting Noel through the state he was in brought along a fear that it could happen to you as well.

Turning the corner, you saw his house in the distance. Layers upon layers of snow covered the ground as more flakes fell every second. There was a snowstorm warning but you would most likely be back home at that point.

You walked up his driveway and knocked on the door three times.

The door swung open to reveal Noel still in his pyjamas but with his hair styled how he always has it.

“Bonjour, Bienvenue en France.” He exclaimed. You hesitated for a second trying to process what that meant.

“What?”

“That’s basic French Y/N… you’re so lucky you have me.” He smiled.

Truly he didn’t know how lucky you really felt.

“Come in then theres snow all over you, Mom won’t let you in if you’re soggy.” He grabbed your arm pulling you inside and up to his room.

Noel went straight over to his desk chair getting a folder labelled ‘French Lessons for Y/N’

You slouched down on his bed looking over at him. “How long did it take you to make that?” You asked.

“Oh uh… not long. Maybe a few hours… every night for a week.” He began rambling.

You felt yourself becoming flustered, “It means a lot that you would do all that for me Noel.”

“I’d do anything for you, you know that.” He smiled.

You walked over to him and sat down in the chair next to him. He began to flicker through the pages to find what he wanted to teach you today.

It was colour coded with beautiful layouts and calligraphy titles. This must’ve taken him ages. All the examples he had in it of sentences were things that had happened with the two of you, things like: ‘Nous avons regardé des films ensemble toute la nuit.’ ~ ‘We watched films together all night.’ and ‘Y/N est très beau.’ ~ ‘Y/N is very handsome.’

All that was going through your head was ‘This has to mean something; Does this mean something; What if he actually likes me back’ You had to do something.

“I can’t do this Noel.” You started.

“I know it’s hard but don’t worry I have faith in you and I’ll-”

“No it’s not about the French I need to tell you something.” You inhaled deeply, there was no turning back now. “Listen you have to promise me that what I’m about to say won’t ruin our friendship.”

He laughed, “Of course not you’re the best friend I have.”

“Okay uhm, you know how much you mean to me, right?” He nodded, “Well even when I first met you I was intrigued by you, I guess you always felt more special to me then any other friend had. I always assumed it was just that we were platonic soulmates or something but um..”

“What are you trying to say?” Noel asked, shuffling his chair closer to yours.

“I love you Noel and not just as a friend.”

His shoulders dropped as if a wave of relief had washed over him. His cheeks began to flash a bright red and a smile crept its way onto his face.

“I love you too.” He grinned, “In more than a friend way but I figured you already got that.”

You both laughed and hugged each other tightly. This is it, all you wanted. It’s moments like this that make people want to freeze time and stay like it forever.

“What does this mean for us?” Noel asked, still not pulling away.

“I don’t know.” You said. “I’m not ready to come out to everyone yet, but I’d love- only if you want, to be your boyfriend?” You smiled hopefully.

“Of course I want you to be my boyfriend you idiot, why else would i make a folder of French for you?” He laughed.

“Oh my god I actually have a boyfriend. We can like watch movies together and have sleepovers and then go with each other to choir practice after those sleepovers then spend more time together!” He continued.

You chuckled, “Don’t we already do that?”

“Well yeah but it’s different now because you’re my boyfriend. We need to watch a movie together now as a celebration.” He got up and began to walk over to grab a DVD off of his shelf.

“As long as it isn’t one of those French ones.”

“You know it will be.”

You both cuddled together watching the movie, Noel recited his favourite lines and you had never felt happier.

When the movie ended he had already taken your hoodie and requested a different one that you had at home.

“Noel, I still stand by what I said about not being comfortable coming out to everyone. But if you’re okay with it I want to tell my family and the choir about us.” You asked turning to him.

He agreed and you began discussing ways to tell them. Suddenly there was a knock on the door and Noels Mom came in.

“Y/N the snowstorm has started and your Mom called asking if you could to stay here for a few days until it all clears up. She said to give her a call when you can.” She smiled then left the room.

“It’s like a honeymoon for us.” Noel exclaimed.

You laughed lightly, “No I’ll take you to Paris for our real honeymoon, thats a promise.”

He tackled you into a hug, life was perfect.

[divorcingjimmatthews]

season 2 episode 5 reactions as i watch

huge spoilers obviously

(this is mostly for myself to have somewhere to scream as i go, its LONG AF youve been warned)

RANDALL IS SCARING ME SO MUCH LIKE PLEASE DONT BANG ON STUFF WHAT IF YOU ACCIDENTALLY MAKE THE TALISMAN FALL I AM HAVING A HEART ATTACK WITH THIS SCENE. RANDALL STOP STOP STOP YOURE GOING TO DIE DUDE

(straight up cant watch the rest of the episode because i paused it and cant bring myself to unpause lmaooo. from ends here for me i guess)

ok its over thank god

JADE STOP DRINKING SOMEONE HELP THIS MAN. hes even sleeping with the fucking journal like please he needs 20 interventions

also dammit he actually moved to the bar i accidentally manifested it LMAO

can the show please stop torturing this man with the hallucinations please and thank you

TABITHA IS IN MAMA WOLF MODE LETS GO

boyd defending sara... knowing what happened to his wife and what she did... oh man. this hurts. knowing tabitha also lost a child before turns the intensity of all this to eleven millions

LMAO ok someone calling tabitha out for her basement hole and its consequences at long last. i love tabitha but like it has to be acknowledged

"That part i cant help you with" dang Good Line

honestly cant even imagine how sara is feeling i dont know what id be doing in her situation like just watching it stresses me so much.

ETHAN BABY :'(((( im sobbing

KRISTI IS SO PRETTY oh my god i am so bisexual right now. she cant just do this. the shirtttt. i think im seeing the sweetest and most beautiful woman in the world

dhsjfhsh marielle doing the same thing with the shirt that i had the reader do in my fic i cant even

"For a long time it smelled like you. Now it just smells" i laughed so hard

"Youre still you" 🥺

SARA GIRL WHAT ARE YOU DOING ARE YOU TRYING TO GET K oh yeah wait she probably is

oh its her house ok god i thought she'd gone to the matthews'

NEW HOUSE WHO DIS

cant belive an extra got one of the few houses this is so funny to me for no reason

this scene gosh. ouch. ouch. im taking 2 damage per second watching this episode

JADE. the bottles. jade my beloved this is point of no return level stuff. mrs Liu please come get him home

VICTOR

victoooor

"You dont look good" im losing it

thank you victor

victor 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 i love him. the sweetest

JADE IM GOING TO STRANGLE YOU DONT BE LIKE THISSS

"WAIT" i fucking cant i love this man

"This took me all fucking night" jade never stop being the funniest mf on the planet please

jim calling tabitha tabby is so sweet it got me

"Faith. In you" oh boy. Oh man. Oh boy oh man. This scene. How is this show hitting every singe fucking note.

donna brought up abby omgomg

OK BUT CAN YOU BLAME HIM FOR WANTING TO FIND AN ALTERNATIVE THIS TIME

(maybe)

(arghhhh this is so hard)

"only monsters live in the woods" ethan i love everything you say. go my boy

(sara voice) okay

"The trees theyre changing" i love how victor is 100% harmless but could NOT be any more ominous lmaooo

CAR GRAVEYARD

"When i was alone i moved the cars because i didnt want to see them. Theres a lot more behind the rocks but those were already here" GODDAMMIT

no but victor is literally the sweetest man on earth. you were rightfully angry victor !! jade now you apologise.

"okay" ill kill him

victor sitting on the car 🥺🥺🥺🥺 im going to cry

what a scene. my god.

SARA HAS ONLY BEEN THERE FOR A COUPLE OF MONTHS?

"Do you live here in town" ELGIN i love you

poor julie if she knew her crush is out there flirting with the local murderer

"I like what i like and i like owls" based. thats me writing 300 jade posts per day

oh boy this scene (me about every scene)

"THAT PART ALWAYS SEEMED A BIT LIKE WISHFUL THINKING TO ME" im. ill be processing for 3 years

"Did you do something that needs forgiving?" elgin my sweet boy

jim rightly proud of his badass kid

"you put hate inside me" :'(

is she gonna give her her stuff damn shes too nice

a part of me is feeling like shes gonna smash it tho lmao

SORRY FOR DOUBTING YOU MRS LIU

i am starting to assume that everyone forgot about tobey so jade is never even gonna know that it was sara lmao

KENNY

oh my god kenny

im hurt seeing him so hurt

TOWNSPEOPLE CAN WE GIVE KENNY A BREAK OVER HERE PLEASE WHAT R U STARING AT HES VERY RIGTHFULLY MAD HE HAS EVERY RIGHT

oh elgin

elgin youre too sweet

elginnnnn

everyones gonna hate you elgin 😭😭😭 i am suffering for you

KRISTI BECAME EVEN MORE BEAUTIFUL THIS IS NOT A DRILL

now please do jade

"KRISTI WHERE ARE YOU GOING BABY STOP"

KRISTI NO NO NOOOOOO

i love her so much

"People liked him, then he changed" dont do this to me

"I am at the end of my rope" oh god

TABITHA??????

holy fucking shit im going to die of heart attack

this doesnt have captions i dont know what the creepy ghost children are saying

I WAS LITERALLY THINKING I WISHED TABITHA AND JADE WOULD INTERACT AND LOOK AT THIS NOW

i knew jim would not vote box lets goo

BOYD WHY

Randall ????

OKAY that tabitha and marielle scene from last episode was bothering me so much i cant believe i didnt think of this

what an episode my god

[tathrin]

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about? ✨ Choose three adjectives to complement your own writing.⏰ Do you spend more time reading fic, writing fic, or do you do both equally?

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

Well, I don't have the very first stories I wrote on a computer anymore because they died when the old family desktop did, but I have brought all my files along with me ever since I got my own laptop for college, so let's go have a peek in my oldest folders...

From Star Wars:

Ooh look, here's Baby Tathrin's Very Mature And Not-At-All Mary-Sue-ish Lengthy Backstory Novel for Rhysati Ynr, who deserved so much more character development and screentime than Rogue Squadron gave her and I'll do it myself if I have to, dammit, fic... Yeah, I still think Rhys deserved more story-time, but I'm definitely never going back to that fic because I'm not thirteen anymore XD

Bounty Hunter's Winter, which was supposed to be a young-Boba-Fett-grudgingly-teams-up-with-Sheltay-Retrac-in-Clone-Wars/Purge-Era and then timeskips to juxtapose with an-experienced-Boba-Fett-grudgingly-teams-up-with-a-young-Winter-in-Rebellion-Era fic that basically just existed to show How Fucking Competent all three of them were. There's nothing wrong with this one, it's just not got enough framework/point to be interesting going back to now.

Padmé Jedi Prequels is the working-title for a what-if? re-writing of the Prequel Trilogy where Padmé, you guessed it, was a Jedi too. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon still get sent to deal with the Trade Federation over Naboo, but Obi-Wan has been recently Knighted and Padmé is Qui-Gon's new Padawan. I do like what I have written for this one, but it would be a LOT of work to write the rest of it (basically: everything between "landing on Tatooine" and "the ending scenes w/ the Purge"), and the canon has changed sooooo much since I started working on it that I'd either have to re-work a lot of details or just throw my hands up and go "this is pre-Clone Wars tv show continuity reconstructed from memory, it's gonna be a bumpy ride!" and know that everyone, including me, is going to be so fucking confused lmao.

From Lord of the Rings:

Okay I'm so glad you asked this question mainly for this answer, because I had completely forgotten I ever did this, but: apparently back when I was in college, I started writing a story where a portion of the Fellowship along with Elrond's kids, Faramir, Éowyn, and Éomer were all re-embodied (in the case of the mortals and Arwen) or sent from Aman (in the case of the elf, half-elves, and dwarf) to go deal with some Terrible New Threat by...pretending to be Normal Modern Humans Undercover In College, I guess??? The only things I ever wrote for it were the intro, an "everybody tries to figure out how modern clothing works in a big department store and it's a Disaster, thank goodness they have Éowyn there to wrangle everyone" scene, a snippet of Legolas and Gimli being Very Good At Acting Like Humans on a balcony and annoying Aragorn, and Legolas nearly having a stroke when a bartender serves Gimli and not him, because "he's clearly old enough, but you look way too young; sorry kid try again when you have a better fake ID."

I've also got an ancient Three Hunters get pulled into the Star Wars universe post-War of the Rings when Artoo and Threepio's escape pod lands in Gondor instead of Tatooine story that I can't imagine I'll ever touch again, but does admittedly have some amusing (if very painfully Old Writing) bits written for it, so that was nice to look at (and wince over) again.

Also there's this, of course.

From the X-Men Comics:

A fanfic about a New Excalibur Team being formed that actually has (if I do say so myself, and I will) an excellent beginning, but which I failed to write-down the Actual Planned Plot of, and now I can no longer remember wtf I was going to do with the damn story, so it's probably never going to get any further since that's uhhh. kind of an important part of Writing A Story lmao.

One where Illyana gets shunted back to Mythical Camelot somehow when she dies during Inferno, irritates/distresses Merlin, befriends both Guienevere and Mordred, annoys Morgan le Fay, learns some advanced magic, and eventually has to help destroy Mordred to save everyone else; only then does she find her way back to the present, and comes back to life several years after her younger self has died of the Legacy Virus to be re-united with Kitty and the New Mutants. Given that in the (many) years since I started that fic, Illyana already has been resurrected it's uhhh. kind of a moot point of a story now lol.

Also there's surely some half-started Potter stories sitting around here that idk if I'll ever feel the urge to touch again (Green-Eyed Snake included). Maybe the burst of celebration I'll feel the day she just self-combusts from all that hate and finally just fucking dies will be inspiring...

✨ Choose three adjectives to complement your own writing.

Detailed, plausible, and most especially verbose ;)

⏰ Do you spend more time reading fic, writing fic, or do you do both equally?

Writing, definitely; although I've read a lot more fic in the past few months than I'd read for years, and I'm enjoying it mightily (navigating on AO3 is sooooooooooo much better than trying to slog through FFnet and livejournal and geocities omgggggg I can actually find good stories now, what is this witchcraft???).

[driflew]

six sentence sunday! this time i think ill focus on torchlight, but ill throw in a fun fact about from here to there as well

1. basically every single watcher in the OG draft was a woman, simply bc every single time i went “oh, this'll be easier with a different set of pronouns” and defaulted immediately to she/her. i realized i accidentally implied the cult was woman-only and swapped two or three of them to men, but. not uh, not that many, cuz it still is easier to do dialogue when people have different pronouns,

2. how martyn gets the information he does abt ren varies pretty greatly from the version of this i made up originally, which isn't a bad thing but it is sort of funny. ive said this on tumblr the day i made up the au, but originally most of the information abt ren was supposed to come from being around the city. i realized it wasnt super feasible (and wanted to give bigb more stuff to do) so stuff changed, but this was definitely a different story to start

3. related, martyn wasnt quite so... hopeless? desperate? in the plan? that sprung up on me while i was writing and i doubled back upon editing to make him worse. worked out pretty well, id say, to make everything abt the emotional core of the fic more interesting, but it wasnt quite intentional

4. ive alluded to the desert duo plot on my tumblr a few times. it does exist, but i dunno if it'll ever come up on-page. if it does, it'll probs be me skipping to the end of it, bc thats when martyn and grian see each other again and this is a renchanting au. this is something im pretty excited for, tho i dont have it fleshed out overmuch. it did make me laugh how many ppl brought up curiosity over grian’s fate in the comments, tho. hes alive, i promise! haven't you guys ever heard no body, no death?

5. the magical deadzone concept for martyn and grain was more relevant in the OG plot from point 2, but some minor changes were made w jimmy and bigb that made it not quite work out the same. it still words--they have to leave bc martyn cant fly and they cant cast on him--but originally the watchers let bigb and jimmy go specifically bc they were explicitly, in-text looking for unusual interactions with magic, like deadzones. thats more... loosely implied now, i guess

6. finally, your fun fact about here to there. the OG draft of the scene w the bow had martyn trying to convince ren to essentially create a fire aspect sword. i scrapped it bc i realized one) ren would definitely go with this, not go against it, two) i dont know how that would work without melting martyn’s sword or ren falling off the sword on his hand, three) neither of these men would consider these and i didnt want to deal with the stupid mess they were about to create

[devilofthehounds]

God Eater 3 Character Novel | In the Name of the White Flower: Chapter 8

[image id: A novel cover. Hilda Henriquez from God Eater 3 stands in the foreground. In the background are profile shots of Abraham Gadolin (top left) and Werner Gadolin (bottom right). Separating the two are a pair of red armlets, streaks of dried blood overlaid on top of them. The text, when translated into English, reads, “God Eater 3 Character Novel | Chapter 5: Hilda Edition | In the Name of the White Flower”. /end id]

This is a fan translation. Original text here.

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A few years passed.

Hard work had taken its toll on my father, and he died shortly after the First Ashlands Conquest Operation.

Numerous inventions, such as the resonance radar, essential for conquering the Ashlands.

Thanks to his efforts, my father had amassed an incredible fortune.

And without telling me, it seemed my father had gone through all the proper channels to pass his assets on to me.

In his will, my father expressed regret for not being able to properly face his family. He also expressed his wish for me to use the assets bequeathed to me for the benefit of humanity.

Typical of my father to write his will not for his own benefit, but for that of all humanity.

But that one incident marked a major turning point for me.

In northern Europe, cruel experiments continued to be conducted on children. AGEs were forced to undertake grueling missions day and night.

It was becoming difficult for me to protect them while living under Gleipnir's protection.

And so, I decided to become independent of them.

I immediately spent the bulk of my father's inheritance in the purchase of a small satellite base on the frontier.

A place where fleeting memories remained, where we once spoke of our dream.

I renovated the devastated base into a Port.

At the same time, using my connections in Gleipnir, I managed to obtain a newly constructed Ash Crawler, albeit through somewhat illegal means.

It was equipped with another inheritance from my father: the latest in resonance radar technology.

However, I had been unable to arrange for a navigator to operate it, so its range of effectiveness was severely restricted.

Steadily, I procured everything I needed.

It might have been a small act of resistance, out of step with the times.

But I intended to create a utopia where children would no longer need to live in fear.

I continued to believe wholeheartedly that my wish wasn't wrong.

As if reaching for the dream I once held, I kept moving forward.

And so, a single flower bloomed in the world.

"I-I didn't think you'd come out in person..."

It happened not long before my Port was completed.

The first visitor arrived at the entrance.

"Congratulations on the completion of your Port, Hilda. I wished to deliver my regards in person. I am certain you will manage this Port well."

The visitor was none other than Abraham Gadolin.

When I heard the news, I was completely floored.

"Thank you for your kind words. ...So, what can I do for you today?"

He couldn't have come just to say hello.

It was quite possible he was already attempting to pressure us into placing ourselves within Gleipnir's jurisdiction.

Clamping down on my nerves, I waited for the governor-general to speak.

"I came here today because I wished to discuss a business matter with you, Hilda."

"Business?"

"According to Ashland Navigation Law, when an AGE is transferred from one Port to another, mediation by Gleipnir is required. Thus, things will go much more smoothly with my presence."

"Transferring an AGE? ...I'm sorry, I don't understand."

I couldn't even hazard a guess as to what he was getting at.

After a short while, an AGE walked in.

The girl had pure white hair. She wore a thick blindfold that completely blocked out her vision.

For a moment, I wondered who she was.

"...It's been a long time, Big Sis Hilda."

My heart leapt at the sound of her voice.

The small smile on her face brought back vivid memories.

"...Iris, is that you?"

"You remembered me... I'm so glad."

I couldn't hide my confusion as the girl in front of me let out a sigh of relief.

Governor-General Gadolin stepped forward and calmly explained the situation.

"After taking the aptitude test, she fell into a coma until just the other day. After she awoke, she constantly worried over your safety. From what I've heard, the two of you have known each other for a long time."

"So then... You really...?"

"Yep. I'm not a ghost or anything like that. I'm alive... I'm here."

An inexpressible feeling filled my heart.

How many times had I been saved by her smile, tucked within my heart?

That smile was now right in front of me, reminding me once again of its blinding light.

But that blindfold... No, it couldn't be—

"It's okay, big sis. I can't see anymore, but... it's strange. I can sense my surroundings much more strongly than before. So please, don't make that face."

Perhaps becoming an AGE had made her senses even sharper.

"She possesses outstanding resonance ability. Although she cannot be deployed on the front lines as an AGE, she has shown incredible aptitude for resonance radar operation. She has also excelled in her training at Gleipnir."

At the governor-general's prompting, Iris's restraints were released.

"I have heard that you are suffering from a shortage of navigators. I wish to entrust her to your Port as an investment from Gleipnir into your future endeavors."

The governor-general's expression was unreadable.

Certainly, it was due to the governor-general's thoughtfulness that I was able to be reunited with Iris.

But this child was a victim of the dawn of AGEs.

For the future of humanity. For the sake of those words, we turned a blind eye to this child.

I wasn't quite sure how to feel about Iris, here and now.

Or perhaps my feelings were already being conveyed to her.

"I thought it best for her to be placed in your care. Might I trust you in this?"

"...Yes. Thank you very much, Governor-General."

"...I have no right to say this, but... I sincerely hope that this Port can become the utopia you once told me about, Hilda."

I bowed to the governor-general as he leisurely took his leave, then quickly embraced the newly freed Iris.

However, she didn't return my embrace.

"...So then, Big Sis Hilda, where would you like to go? I'll take you anywhere you want. From now on, I'll be your eyes."

Iris spoke so calmly.

Although she still wore a smile on her face, her words lacked her usual enthusiasm.

What had Iris been told when she woke up? What had her thoughts been coming here?

As those questions floated through my mind, I couldn't help but feel anxious.

"...Iris, are you really okay with this?"

"Yeah. After all, this is all I'm good for now."

Those servile words, so unlike her, sent a dull pain through my chest.

"Your orders, Big Sis Hilda? I don't mind dying for you."

"Iris, that's...!"

"This is my role as the survivor. So please, don't be sad. I... I'm okay with this."

Faced with the death of her family, she was devastated by loneliness.

Even this child, stronger and kinder than anyone else, had lost sight of the value of her own life.

I wanted to rebuke her words, tell her she was wrong.

But I knew pleas driven by guilt wouldn't reach her at this point.

What could I do to restore her heart?

"...That's not true, Big Sis Iris."

At that moment, I suddenly heard a voice from behind me.

Before I had even realized, Amy stood there, tears in her eyes.

"Do you remember? When we first met, you told me stories about a utopia."

Over the past few years, Amy had continued to work with the children and finally regained her ability to speak.

Having filled her heart with so much kindness, she now gently embraced Iris, standing in the dark.

"You said we'd live happily together in a place where there was nothing to fear, right? Miss Hilda built this Port to make that dream come true."

Amy gently returned the feelings she had inherited until now to Iris.

"I'm here because you helped me back then. So now... it's my turn to help you."

"Are you... from back then...?"

"Yes. There are so many things I want to say to you now that we're both here, in the place we dreamed of. But first... I want to fulfill my promise."

Amy gently took Iris's hand.

"My name... is Amy Chrysanthemum!"

There was no doubt it was the first miracle of this Port.

The moment when the light of bonds shined in shadowed eyes.

I was able to witness that moment once again.

"Chr... Chrysanthemum..."

Iris's tears spilled out from behind her thick blindfold.

"...Iris, can you sense it? It's still far from finished, but this Port is undoubtedly the stage of the dream we envisioned back then."

That much I could say with unwavering confidence.

Port Chrysanthemum.

We had finally arrived at the place where it all began.

"This Port houses an orphanage as well. Just like before, there are many orphaned children and abandoned AGEs living there."

As I spoke, I took Iris's other hand.

"In order to protect those living in this Port, I'm thinking of investing in various business ventures. I have no intention of accepting dangerous missions like the ones you heard about in Gleipnir... not unless it's good pay, anyway."

Next to me, Amy giggled. I smiled as well.

"Iris, I'm certain you'll be able to empathize with the hearts of the children here. I'd like you to work with us as leader of the orphanage."

"B-But I'm supposed to be your navigator—"

"Yes. Right now, we're lacking in that department. The reality of the situation is that we have no choice but to rely on you. So, not as an AGE, but as a member of this Port's family, I would like you to lend us your strength."

I squeezed Iris's hand as she gasped.

"The decision is yours, Iris. Choose based on your own will, not based on someone else's orders."

"B-But..."

"Then let me put it this way. ...Iris, I want you to join our family again. I want you to pursue this dream with us, just like before."

Both Amy and I nodded, conveying our sincere feelings to Iris.

To once again paint that dream on the canvas of the heart painted over by reality.

I earnestly reached out to her heart, more sensitive than anyone else's.

"...Thank you. Big sis, Amy..."

Eventually, Iris removed her blindfold with her free hands.

Stretching her arms as if spreading her wings, Iris gazed upon the Chrysanthemum emblem overhead.

"...Right. Okay! Big Sis Hilda, Amy, leave the navigation to me! I'll take you anywhere in the world!"

Her words resonated through the Port like a warm tailwind.

Iris would be our wings. That made me happier than anything else.

"Yes, let's prepare for departure!"

Maybe we could reach it now.

A remnant of our former dream I wished to welcome to this Port.

To the person who once protected our dream, who now fought aimlessly in the Ashlands.

An old frontline base for God Eaters, overlooking a huge lake.

There he was.

Sitting there with a vacant expression on his face, he looked even more haggard than he had back then.

"...It's been a while, Ricardo Sforza."

Ricardo's eyes widened as I called out to him. He let out an exasperated chuckle.

"Hahaha... Guess my time's finally come. I'm even starting to dream up visions of an angel..."

With those words, Ricardo once again stared into nothing.

"...Ricardo, I'll get straight to the point. I want to recruit you. Would you like to come work for my Port?"

Ricardo glared at me for a few seconds, then snorted.

"Did you really come all this way just to crack a joke?"

"I've taken a look at your history. ...It's an invasion of privacy, I know. Sorry."

What had happened before we met at the satellite base that day?

Why had he been so determined to defend the base?

Now I understood.

"You're quite talented. There's no one more qualified for the job. I'd like you to lend us your strength."

"...Is this pity, Hilda?"

Ricardo, not even bothering to get up, turned to me with a gloomy look.

"If pointless memories are what ail you, then leave me alone. ...I've had enough of dazzling dreams."

Ricardo's voice was hoarse as he continued.

"If you're so set on bringing that dream to life... find someone else to help you paint it."

Memories of those days, when I chased my dreams without a single doubt, came flooding back to me.

The person who had been by my side, chasing that same dream, was no longer there.

Recently, there had been a series of incidents in which various caravans had been attacked by unknown forces, and AGEs who had been mistreated had gone missing.

The identity of the mastermind remained unknown.

However, I was certain I knew the identity of this nameless hero.

He still wandered in darkness, tormented by his past.

We no longer shared the same path.

But if the name of Chrysanthemum could reach him, even for a moment, within that unapproachable darkness.

If that name could evoke a cool breeze within his heart, then there was surely meaning in the steps I was taking.

"It's not an ailment, Ricardo. It's hope."

As he sat there, helpless, I offered him my hand.

My hope was that those who shared the same dream, even if just for a moment, would never again fall into darkness.

"Come with me. I'll show you that dream once again. But this time, it won't be just a dream. It'll be a place where you can live, with a family you must protect."

I knew the offer was heavy-handed.

Still, I didn't want to regret not reaching out.

I desperately hoped that he would take my hand.

That he would take a step forward and shatter the walls around his heart.

"In order to reach that utopia, I'll need as many allies as possible. With you at my side, I'm certain we can reach it. I want you to join me in realizing that dream once again."

His clouded eyes lit up faintly.

Just like back then.

"...You're the same as ever, huh?"

"That's right. My goal hasn't changed. This time... we'll reach it."

Ricardo looked down at his hand, covered in scars.

Then he squeezed his eyes shut, as if thinking back on distant memories.

"This time, huh..."

The next moment, Ricardo placed his hand in mine.

"A utopia, eh? ...I'm on board. Guess it's not my time after all."

"Ricardo..."

Ricardo smiled sheepishly as I helped him up.

His tired expression, the kindness in his eyes, the warmth of his hands. They were all the same as they were back then.

"Just don't get your hopes up, okay? After all, I'm just a humble God Eater..."

"Thank you. And don't worry, I have plenty of work for you."

"Hahaha! Alright, then. Let's have some fun."

I placed both my hands on Ricardo's and smiled.

After so long, my dream seemed to take on color once again.

"Switching to departure sequence."

Sitting on the bridge of the Ash Crawler, I gazed upon my dependable crew.

"Erm... Energy flow from the main accumulator has been established... Um, Hilda, what does this mean by 'sealing the ash bulkhead'?"

"Mister Ricardo, if you don't understand, I can take care of it."

"Really? Even though you're so young, you're pretty reliable, Miss Amy. Next, let's activate the hull bias field barrier... Huh?"

"I-I'll just take care of that, too..."

"Eheheh, you're like a fish out of water, Mister Ricardo. Will you really be okay?"

Iris and Amy laughed as they teased him. Ricardo smiled apologetically as he scratched his cheek.

"Hoo boy... I thought since there were so many lovely ladies on this ship, it'd be a utopia, but things are a bit stifling. Did I board the right ship?"

"You're not throwing in the towel just yet, are you, Ricardo? I told you up front, we have no time to dawdle."

"Haha, I'm ready. I have no intention of making you regret your decision."

It felt as though we'd finally reached the starting line.

We'd overcome the past and gathered together the shattered pieces of our dream.

From here, we'd once again take flight toward the future.

I was certain this was the right choice.

"All systems are reading green. The Chrysanthemum is ready to depart."

"Where to next, Big Sis Hilda?"

My irreplaceable family looked back at me.

In response to their affectionate smiles, I stood up.

"Let's return to Port Chrysanthemum. ...No doubt our family eagerly awaits our return."

To join hands in laying the foundation for our new future.

"Ash Crawler Chrysanthemum... casting off!"

We continued to pave the way forward.

[apepsicherry]

stupid rant

i know this fucking shit is gonna be dumb but i just gotta write this down so i can look back on it. what is the point of struggling in life. this capitalistic hell cycle will never end. but even if i wanted to give up i cant. it'd be a disgrace to the sacrifices my parents made to get me here. to give me a better life. i dont know why im acting so selfish and like a baby. i havent struggled through anything as bad as my parents in life. i shouldnt be thinking this way but i still do. i hate myself for it. i have to act more amture and accept my fate and just give in to the system. the only thing an individual can do in the system is work with it and not against. even if by a stroke of luck one were to escape the sytem there'd be no point. you'd still see your fellow people still in the shitty hellhole that is the system. the best one can do is be the best self they can be. they can just try to be honest to themselves and those around them. just try to make the world a better place. but still this notion of what one must be is flawed. who defines what the best self is? its just a cope someone comes up with to justify their actions and be able to live with theirselves. Even if someone sets a standard of what it means to be good enough and be a good person there is still a way to improve. every good action always has an ulterior motive to it, even if the people doing those actions dont realize it (or dont want to). i know this probably looks like shitty rant by a shitty teenager that doesnt know anything about the world but i just had to get this off my chest. all i can do in life is try to be my best self and try to help those around me the best way i can. but how do i know who i should help. i know that people are flawed and are in some way deserving of help but sometimes i just dont want to help people. i act in a selfishb way and i hate myself for that. its just that its hard to want to try to help my fellow human. i wonder if religion would be the correct option for me. maybe id find the answers im seeking in one way or another. thats atleast what my parents recommend. but i feel like religion is just a way for humans to cope with the inevetibality of death and what lays beyond it. they use it as a way to justify their actions and put themselves on a pedastool(??) and put other people down. i know that religion has brought good things to people but i feel like its just a giant scam. i know that i am in no position to critizice people who are religious but sometimes i just feel bad for them. i know that ive tried to end my life multiple times. sometimes i still wonder if suicide is the right option. i know it isnt but it still lingers in the back of my mind. i dont know why i have this lingering thought in my head even though i am living a good life. i have exceptional parents and an amazing life, but i always feel empty. maybe because i havent been the best self i can be, maybe because i feel that no matter what i do it wont be enough, or maybe becuase i know that i often lie and defraud people who put their complete trust in me. sometimes i wonder if i deserve to have all i have. i know that im a shitty human being but i try to cope and say that i just did what i needed to or it was the only option, but i know this isnt right. hell i know that im a fucking garbage person. theres a huge disconnect between what people see me as and what i know myself to be. i guess its probably just the process of growing up but i dont want to feel this way. someday i hope this feeling goes away and i will be able to see myself as people see me to be. idk this rant is shitty. i fuckin hope this shit gets better ig. tldr: im a fuckin dipshit with shit opinions

[ticklishtimothee]

what a roadtrip (kyle scheible x reader)

summary: the reader is going to see a concert out of town with some friends, kyle included, and gets stuck in the back seat with him on the drive.

a/n: an anon asked for some kyle angst-turned-fluff, and i’d already had an idea based on this post to write. not too angsty, but definitely an enemies-to-lovers type of dynamic. i hope you enjoy!!

words: 1,115

You and your friends were planning to go to a concert that weekend, much to your delight. What you weren’t looking forward to, however, was the drive there.

Not many concerts happened near you, and so the venue was about a two hour drive away, and that was just to get there. All together, it was four hours.

Four hours you’d have to spend in the car with Kyle fucking Scheible.

You weren’t sure why your friends still hung around Kyle. He was insufferable, a total douchebag who got off on treating girls like shit. It pissed you off to simply be in his presence, and he knew it too.

The feeling seemed to be mutual, as he never went out of his way to speak to you or even acknowledge your existence. Whatever. You liked it better that way.

Jenna was driving, and Ladybird had called shotgun.

Your other friends had called the middle two seats of Jenna’s mom’s minivan, and all that was left was the very back row, for you and Kyle.

“Jenna, can you please tell someone to switch with me?” you pleaded.

“C’mon, Y/N, it’s two hours. Just put your head against the window and take a nap or something,” she said. “He’s not that bad, I promise. Maybe on the way home I’ll convince Ladybird to let you sit up front.”

You huffed, but knew that arguing wouldn’t get you any further. So, you clambered into the back seat beside Kyle, crossing your arms over your chest.

He didn’t look at you when you got in, just kept his gaze out the window, even though the car hadn’t even begun moving.

“Okay, ground rules: Don’t get crumbs all in my mom’s car, she’ll kill me. Driver picks the music, so don’t complain. And if you have to pee, hold it until we get to the venue,” Jenna announced cheerily. “I’m not gonna risk being late for the sake of your bladders.”

You swore you heard Kyle scoff, and your gaze flickered to him.

He caught your eye and regarded you for just a moment, before turning to look out the window again.

God, you wanted to punch him so badly.

The drive went pretty smoothly. Jenna’s music taste was decent, and you caught yourself humming along to a few familiar tunes. If Kyle noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Traffic wasn’t bad, and Jenna’s insistence on getting an early start meant you arrived to the venue in under two hours, as well as early enough to the concert to comfortably use the bathroom, grab some sodas (or alcohol, depending on the place’s stance on carding), and find your seats.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jenna asked you in the bathroom, nudging you playfully as she washed her hands.

“We just sat in silence,” you replied. “So yeah, it wasn’t bad.”

“Do you really hate him, or do you hate that he doesn’t reach out?”

You scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve never liked him. I think he’s rude, and I’d prefer it if he didn’t talk to me at all.”

Jenna gave you a knowing smile that made you want to punch her, too. “If you say so.”

The bar was asking for ID, but thankfully, your friends had planned ahead and snuck some mini-bottles of liquor in their bags.

The concert was amazing. The whole group of you had an amazing time. At one point, you even caught Kyle grinning, strumming the song’s bassline in the air to himself.

It was clearly just the alcohol talking, but you almost found it cute.

“That was fucking incredible,” Ladybird said on the way out.

Your ears were ringing from the volume inside, and the adrenaline was still flowing. “I can’t believe they played that song!”

As you all piled back into Jenna’s car, you’d almost forgotten about the seating situation until that moment. Ladybird had already settled back into shotgun, and you didn’t want to make things awkward by asking her to switch now.

Whatever. You survived the way there, how bad could it be on the way back?

Soon, the post-concert drop began to settle in. Your head throbbed dully, and your feet were sore from dancing. Being tipsy suddenly felt more like being drunk, and being sleepy felt like being exhausted.

Your eyes were already half-shut, your face pressed against the cool glass of the window when you felt a nudge to your leg.

“Hm?”

“That can’t be comfortable. You can put your head on me, if you want.”

You did so, without questioning it.

In your drunken, tired state, you’d forgotten who you were sitting next to. It wasn’t until the car was pulled into Jenna’s driveway that you awoke and realized what had happened. You and Kyle had both passed out in the back of the car, your head on his chest, and his face pressed into your hair.

To top it all off, one of your friends had brought a disposable camera and taken a photo of the two of you, so there was permanent proof of your moment of weakness.

You were suddenly questioning why you were friends with any of these people.

The girls were all spending the night at Jenna’s, while Kyle and the guys were going home.

“Sorry I fell asleep on you,” you muttered to Kyle.

“It’s fine. I offered, don’t you remember?” he replied.

“Oh, I guess that part slipped my mind,” you said, gaze focused on the ground.

He took a step closer, and brought a hand to your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. “I know we haven’t always gotten along. I’m just shit at making conversation. I don’t like getting to know new people, so when Jenna introduced you, I was skeptical. But now...I’d be willing to make an exception for you.”

You rolled your eyes. “What changed all of a sudden?”

“The way you were dancing tonight. And singing. You looked so free,” he said.

“I caught you playing air-guitar,” you whispered.

You swore you saw his cheeks flush. “Bass, actually.”

“Bass, whatever.”

“Come to my next show? We can go out to eat after, or something.”

Your heart fluttered. It wasn’t the alcohol, or the tiredness, or the excitement of the night anymore. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Cool. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

“See you.”

Him and the guys went off, and before they were even out of sight, Jenna and Ladybird were on you like flies, asking you what he’d said.

You just grinned and told them it was nothing, much to their displeasure.

And although you hated to admit it, maybe Kyle wasn’t so bad after all.

[nevermindirah]

Yitzhak!

is a character! who Gregadiah What-Is-Math Rucka gave us almost no information about!

I've gone through Tales Through Time #6: The Bear and #1: My Mother's Axe with several magnifying glasses and done a lot of googling and taken my copy of the Tanakh off my shelf for the first time since (well, since the last time I needed to read Torah for TOG reasons, which I think was Booker Passover headcanons) and here's the best I can come up with.

In The Bear we meet someone who goes by the name Isaac Blue:

Read on for a lot of comic panel analysis and historical research and Jewish flailing!

So what do we know about this Isaac Blue person?

He's Lorge, he's got curly hair, he's basically a taller version of Joe as drawn by Leandro Fernández (ie an antisemitic stereotype why the fuck did they approve this character design?? and then why did they double down and copy-paste it to Yitzhak??):

He's got a mezuzah on the doorpost of his house in Alaska!

I screamed about the mezuzah way back in January in this post where I (very reasonably) assumed this character was Joe and spun myself a tale about how Booker is still Joe's brother so the mezuzah stays up even though Booker isn't welcome in that house for a century. Bottom line: the mezuzah is a tradition with origins in the commandment from Deuteronomy 6:9 to "write the words of G-d on the gates and doorposts of your house" and evolved over the course of the Rabbinic period into the modern mezuzah we see here.

I did unnecessary levels of google image search to glean absolutely no useful information about Yitzhak’s origins from this panel:

I've decided the variant cover of TTT 6 is Yitzhak because of a panel in My Mother’s Axe, shown here, and what's likely an unnecessarily deep reading of Exodus, discussed further down:

The person at the right of the bottom panel is wearing the same clothes as in the TTT 6 variant cover and has the same shoulder-length curly hair and hairy forearms.

Left to right, the people in this panel are Lykon (I'll never get used to him being white in the comics), Andy, Noriko (I think? why doesn't Andy mention her by name here?), and Yitzhak. Andy's robe has a stereotypically Greek design on the sleeve cuff, and I had to stop myself 10 minutes into a Wikipedia rabbit hole because Gregorforth doesn't think that deep about this shit. The solid clues as to timeline that we get in this panel are:

Andy's iron axe

the presence of Lykon, who Andy first met in 331 BCE

So all we know is that Yitzhak is an immortal, he was a contemporary of Lykon, and he's Jewish.

Isaac is the most common Anglicization of Yitzhak (which in turn is the most common Anglophone transliteration of יִצְחָק‎), and Greg always uses the (transliterated) Hebrew when he refers to this character. Yitzhak is the long-awaited child of Abraham and Sarah in Genesis, the child who G-d commanded Abraham to sacrifice but spared at the last minute. I see what you did there, Gregory.

Why Isaac Blue? This is where I pulled out my Tanakh. According to the New JPS translation, blue is the first of three colors of yarn listed in Exodus 35:6 among the gifts requested of the Israelites to construct the priestly garments for the Tabernacle and later the Temple. Then in Numbers 15:38 the Israelites are commanded to "make themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages; let them attach a cord of blue to the fringe at each corner."

And now for sandbox timelines party! Gregadiah gave us ALMOST NOTHING to go on, so I'm gonna make my own fun.

I, like many modern Jews, think the stories in the Tanakh are foundational mythology that are valuable because of how they've shaped our people but that contain some fucked-up shit and either way aren't meant to be a record of historical facts. Modern scholarship generally agrees that the community we now call Jews emerged as a distinct group of Canaanites sometime in the late Bronze Age (cw this video's host says the Name of G-d aloud despite being a religious studies scholar who knows that is not a name anyone but the Temple priests are allowed to say). The first non-Biblical written record of the people Israel is from an Egyptian source c. 1200 BCE, and the Biblical kingdom of David and Solomon was probably an exaggeration of whatever really happened during the Bronze Age Collapse. We start getting into historical-fact territory a few centuries into the Iron Age:

588 BCE Solomon's Temple destroyed, Babylonian exile begins

538 BCE Cyrus of Persia allows Jews to return to Jerusalem

515 BCE Second Temple construction complete

332 BCE Alexander the Great At Something I Guess conquered Judea, beginning the Hellenistic period of Jewish history — 331 BCE Andy & Lykon find each other

167 BCE another jerkface Greek king desecrated the Temple and basically outlawed Judaism

164 BCE recapture of Jerusalem and Temple rededication during the Maccabean Revolt

70 CE destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans, beginning of the Rabbinic period of Jewish history that we're still in now

What if... and hear me out... what if immortals come in pairs, and the pairs are:

Andy & Quynh

Joe & Nicky

Booker & Nile

LYKON & YITZHAK

What if Yitzhak was a priest of the Second Temple? What if he and Lykon killed each other just like Joe and Nicky would in the same city around 1300 years later, but instead of enemies-to-lovers speedrun with an absurdly long happily-ever-after, when Lykon died permanently Yitzhak decided to separate from Andy and Noriko and become the hermit we later see in Alaska?

We don't know how old Yitzhak is compared to the others, only that he was a contemporary of Lykon at a time when Andy was using an Iron Age version of her mother's axe. Other plausible origins for him:

a Jew of the early Rabbinic period, maybe a child or grandchild of people who were still alive before the Second Temple was destroyed

a Judean of the Second Temple era under the Romans or Greeks or Persians, maybe a priest, maybe not

an exilee in Babylon, maybe of the generation who got to return, maybe of the generation who was exiled (he doesn't look like he was 50 at his first death but who knows, he could've been mortal for both)

an Israelite of the Kingdoms of Israel and Judah, maybe a priest of Solomon's Temple or again maybe not

an Israelite wandering in the desert with Moses

THEE Yitzhak, ben Avraham v'Sarah, our patriarch who was brought up for sacrifice and then spared, and then spared again, and then spared again, and again, and again...

or! he could also be a Canaanite or other Levantine who predates the people Israel, who at some point in his very long life chose to join our mixed multitude, who like Andromache before him (and like Avram and Sarai would in this case do after him) took a new name to reflect the magnitude of influence this people has had on him

Why do I keep saying Yitzhak might have been a priest? It's thanks to the one detail in the artwork I could plausibly connect to solid research without getting a PhD real quick. Take a look at the gorgeous detail on the opening of his robe in the TTT 6 cover. He's dressed in rags, holes and dirt everywhere, rough stitches probably from hasty repair work — except for the neck opening. Compare that to this description from Exodus 39:23 of the construction of the priestly garments for the Tabernacle: "The opening of the robe, in the middle of it, was like the opening of a coat of mail, with a binding around the opening, so that it would not tear."

The next verses describe the intricate designs for the hem of the priestly garment. Yitzhak's ragged garment looks like the hem was torn off entirely.

Am I overthinking this? Yes I am! You're welcome!

My friend and historical research hero @lady-writes​ is in a Discord server with Gregadiah and asked the man himself some questions about all this. He clearly thinks he's being sneaky?? No shit Yitzhak is Jewish, dude, I want DETAILS!

I will not be giving up my Jewish Booker headcanon, I've put too much thought into it by now, the internalized shame of antisemitism explains Booker's depression too well for me, and it just adds so much richness to Booker/Nile both being children of forced diasporas. Fortunately (for him, not me, bc I'd do it anyway!) Gregothy supports fan headcanons even when they're not in line with his own:

One last thing before I close like 100 research tabs and go back to writing historical fantasy and/or porn! I love that, despite that atrocious caricature of a face design, our canon Jew and our fanon Jew are both Lorge and Soft and Kind, flying the face of the antisemitic stereotype of Ashkenazi Jewish men as small and weak, but also not falling into the New Jew / Muscle Jew stereotype that Zionism created. (I am trying SO HARD not to talk about Israel/Palestine for once ughhhhhhhhhh) Anyway here's a (US-centric but very good) primer on both these stereotypes of Jewish masculinity. Is this why I'm forever projecting my transmasc diasporist feels onto Jewish Booker the service sub? 🤷🏻‍♂️

I’ll reblog a second version of this with full image descriptions so that there’s a version accessible for folks who need IDs as well as a version accessible for folks who get overwhelmed by walls of text.

[mediocre-writerr]

peer pressure [jo wilson]

jo wilson x reader

requested by anon: hey there! i saw you accept requests for greys anatomy, so i was wondering if you could write for jo wilson? she's dating y/n in secret bc the two of them are still figuring out their relationship. y/n is brought to the hospital and since no one knows about the two, jo is assigned to operate on her but jo gets really stressed and panicked, not wanting to mess up. protective jojo would be sweet <3

warning: shooting, blood

*not my gif*

The sound of a phone ringing awoke you from your peaceful slumber. You grabbed the pillow from next to you as you threw your head over it. A familiar weight on top of you. 

“Jo,” she just hummed in response, “Jo, your phone,” 

Her head immediately shoots up and grabs it off your bedside table, but not before elbowing your stomach in the process. You let out a groan, “Oops, sorry love,”

“Hello,” her voice rang out as she answered her phone, “Okay I’ll be right there!”

You remove the pillow off your face as she hung up, “I have an emergency surgery that I need to scrub in on. You’ll pick me up, right?” 

“Same spot, in. my dark ominous tinted car,” I joked with her and she jokingly rolled her eyes. You paused before continuing to talk, “Have you thought about us? I know after Alex you weren’t sure if you wanted to date again, but I don’t know if we’ve been going on dates and getting closer. I know you want to be ready-” 

She leaned over as she changed into a pair of scrubs that she kept at your place, just in case stuff like this happened, and placed a soft kiss to your lips. 

“We’ll talk about when I get back, okay?” you let out a sigh knowing that this isn’t the first time that she avoided the conversation, but you put on a tight lipped smile before nodding. 

“I’ll call you when I’m off,” she shouted before walking out the door.

“Okay, I love you. Go save some lives Supergirl!” you shouted back, but it was too late the door was closed. 

That’s what you always did, you always shouted it right as the door closed, because you knew that she wouldn’t reciprocate those feelings. 

You understood her need to keep her walls up. She was married to Alex and then he just up and left, but you wanted more than hiding on a corner block away from the hospital just so her friends wouldn’t see. 

You looked at the time on your clock and let out another groan. There was no point in trying to get a little more sleep. You rolled out of bed to get ready for your day at work. 

The day was a little cold compared to the fast few days. But you continued your walk towards the familiar coffee shop you stopped in every morning before work. However, today was different, through the coffee shop window you could see a heated argument occurring.

You bursted into the coffee shop to see your usual barista Kate shaking in fear. The man turned around and he had a gun in his hand. You put your hands up immediately knowing what to do in a situation like this.

“Hello sir, whatever you need we can give it to you,” you told him, trying to ease the situation.

“I want the money that’s in the register!” he screamed.

You shook your head, “Okay, you got it. Just put the gun down please,” he slowly lowered the gun and you gave Kate a nod, “Unlock the register, it’s going to be okay,” 

Just when you think you’re safe and the man’s about to leave. His ski mask slips off his face and you breathe out a sigh, knowing now that you’re a liability. 

“Shit!” he yells, pointing the gun back at you and Kate.

“Just go, we won’t say a word,” you told him. 

He shook his head,  “I can’t let you do that,” 

And with that a shot rang through the coffee shop. You felt your body go cold as you fell onto the floor, clutching your side. 

Then you could see him point his gun at Kate, so you did what you were taught to do. You got up quickly from off the floor as you stood in front of her. The bullet hit your shoulder as you fell down once more. Before another shoot could ring out, you could see the blurry visions of officers behind him. 

Your breathing started to become ragged as the blood starts to leave your body bit by bit, “Kate...” you whispered and she looked at you panic in her eyes, “I need you to put pressure on my wound, okay? I’m losing too much blood to-to do it myself,” 

But before you could feel any pressure, your vision slowly faded away.

“Y/N, you don’t have to pick me up right now. There was a robbery at the coffee shop, there’s one injured and I was assigned. I’ll call you again when I’m done,” Jo spoke into the phone after trying to call you three times. 

Jo immediately ran out to the parking lot where the ambulance park. The paramedics arriving right as she got out there. They burst through the ambulance door as Jo went over to them. 

“What have we got?” she asked, not giving a look at the patient for just a second.

“We found the ID of Detective Y/N Y/L/N,” the paramedic said.

With that Jo immediately lifted her head from the bullet wound and saw your pale face going in and out of consciousness. A pit falling into her stomach as she completely blocked out everything else.

“Y/N,” she whispered, fear evident in her eyes.

You looked at her with a loopy smile, grabbing a hold of her hand, and squeezing it with all your might. You could feel your eyes start to slip away again, “I-I love you,” 

Your eyes shut as you slipped out into unconsciousness, “Dr. Wilson,” the paramedic said sternly, “She’s losing too much blood we got to get her to an OR,” 

“Right, yeah. Get her to OR one,” 

They placed you on the OR table as you were blacked out. The loss of blood making it too hard to stay awake. They hooked you up to the anesthesia before opening up your side.

“We’re ready Dr. Wilson,” the anesthesiologist said.

Her hands started to shake with the scalpel in her hand. Thoughts rushing through her mind. 

Focus Jo, just focus. 

But her thoughts wouldn’t quiet, “Dr. Wilson, is everything okay?”

She shook her head, “No, someone grab my phone and get Dr. Grey on the phone,” 

A nurse immediately grabbed her phone and dialed Dr. Grey, “Wilson, what’s going on?”

“I need you to get to the OR as soon as possible,” she said, her voice slightly cracking.

“I’m on my way,” 

Jo spotted Meredith walk into the OR, “I need you to do this procedure, please,” 

“Why?” Meredith asked as she immediately took Jo’s place, but Jo didn’t respond, “Wilson, if I’m going to take over for you I need to know why because this is a simple find the bleeder,” 

“This is Detective Y/N Y/L/N, she’s my-” Jo starts before the tears started getting choked up, “I don’t know what we are, I’d always avoid the conversation, but they-”

“They mean a lot to you,” Meredith finished and Jo nodded.

“Can I stay here with you? I don’t wanna leave their side,” Jo whispered.

“Only if you tell me about them,”

Jo pulled out a seat and watched as Meredith worked on you. She told Meredith everything about what was going on. 

“They always asked me about us and what I wanted us to be. They were always ready for a relationship, they wanted to make things official but I-I just couldn’t,” she whispered.

“What was holding you back?” Meredith said as she used the suction to take the bleeders out of you.

“I guess I was scared, Alex left and I met Y/N and I fell for them each more every day. The thought of losing them or I guess them abandoning me, I couldn’t take it,” Jo said, staring at your face. 

She ran her thumb over your cool skin and smiled at you with tears in her eyes, “Every time I left their apartment, I’d give them a kiss, and I’d say bye. Right as I shut the door I hear them call out and say ‘I love you! Go save some lives Supergirl!’. I never said it back, I need to say it back,” 

“And you’ll be able to, they’re stable. We’ll take them to the ICU and they’ll be able recover nicely,” Meredith replied as she stitched you up, “Just make sure you tell them this time,” 

You awoke to the sound of soft beeping noises and a bright light on your face. The familiar weight that’s usually on top of you when you woke up was right there. 

Your eyes fluttered opened as you see that you’re at Grey Sloan Memorial. The familiar weight was indeed Jo, sleeping peacefully on your chest in her navy blue scrubs. 

“Jo,” you whispered and she stirred awake looking up at you.

“You’re awake,” she whispered, holding you even tighter.

You let out a soft groan, “Ouch love, that’s the wound,” 

“Oops sorry love!” she exclaimed once more and you laughed softly.

“It’s okay. Not that I’m complaining, but I’m surprised you’re on top of me. I know we’ve been keeping us a secret,” you asked, kind of confused. 

She looked at you with a guilty look in her eyes, “I'm sorry. I was scared, after Alex, I didn’t think I’d find love again. But then you, you came, and every day I fell in love with you more and more. I never wanted to talk about what we were because the thought of you abandoning me like everyone else did killed me. So I thought if there’s no label and you leave I won’t get hurt,”

“But then I heard the paramedics ID you and the thought of losing you without telling you how much I love you killed me more. I can’t lose you Y/N,” she whispered, “I love you so much and I can’t lose the person who put me back together,” 

You cupped her cheeks softly and kissed her sweetly. As soon as you pulled away you placed your foreheads together, “So we’re dating?” you teased and she laughed softly before nodding, “I love you so much. I’m not going anywhere,”

“Good,” she kissed you once more, “Just please no more jumping in front of bullets,”

“What? You can’t be the only one who saves lives,” you teased, but you could tell that she was being serious.

“I know that’s your job, but seriously love you weren’t even off the clock. I need you with me,” 

“Then with you is where I’m going to be,” you kissed her forehead before she settled back into your arms, holding you tighter than ever before.

[nimsabeef]

davekat isn't a bad couple, actually

okay, i am bored and sleep deprived and i just went through @davekat-sucks's blog. this is a recipe for disaster. sigh. hope you don't mind me doing this ms. davekat sucks, its just that some of your takes were so frigid i just couldn't bring myself to ignore them. various thoughts under the cut

first off, id like to say that this not an attempt to blame you for making this blog, or for disliking davekat. you can ship whatever the fuck you want and express your opinion however you like. i actually really appreciate the courage. fuck yeah, go against the status quo. post about a controversial topic. fandom would be boring without people like you. but the thing is, your takes are so cold bestie. they are straight up frigid. i am so sorry but the sight of them got me freezing and shaking uncontrollably

why do you base so much of your criticism around hs2 and the epilogues whilst simultaneously claiming they're badly written and shouldn’t be canon? YES their characterisations were fucked in post-canon. that's the case for most characters!! it's kind of hypocritical to use post-canon as a basis to bash davekat and then turn around and completely disregard that when it comes to pairings like roxygen or rosemary. guess what! they were fucked over by post-canon too! and yet you're not going around claiming that johnroxy sucks, even though john basically abandoned roxy and cheated on her. you're not going around claiming rosemary is a horrible pairing because of the yiffy fiasco in homestuck 2. and you still like those ships. so do i!!

hs2 turned davekat into some kind of fanservice generator and robbed dave and karkat of most of their personalities, i agree. but that's because hs2 fucking sucks. they did that for most of the character anyway. why does it only matter to you when it's davekat? much to think about.

so yeah. im not going to address the criticism pertaining to the epilogues and beyond. im not defending them

another thing you keep bringing up is dave hating quadrants which, jesus fucking christ. it makes me doubt you have any reading comprehension skills. the label felt alien to him, yes. he initially rejected the concept because it seemed weird and off-putting, probably, and that's normal. most of the kids thought troll culture was weird at first. and! he didn't break up with terezi because he hated quadrants! he just doesn't like the polygamous aspect of it.

but let's suppose for the sake of argument that he actually, canonically, hates quadrants. what would that even mean? would that imply he would never get into a relationship with a troll, seeing as those would technically be quadrants? or that he doesn't feel any kind of quadrant-related romantic attraction? both of these were proven wrong by canon because: 1) he willingly got into a matespritship with terezi 2) humans can feel pale, pitch, and red attraction; they just label it differently. karkat elaborates on that in a conversation with john, probably around act6 act5. and davekat doesnt even fall squarely under any quadrant, so this is all pointless lol

one other point you brought up was that as soon as they got close to one another on the meteor, they stopped being active in the plot and disregarded all of the issues their friends were dealing with, proving that their relationship was lazy writing which caused their development to stagnate. this is a good point! but when you look into it, that's not really what happened.

the beta kids and the surviving trolls all began blending into the background during act 6 as the story began focusing on the alpha kids. most of them were sitting around, not particularly doing anything relevant, because there was nothing relevant to be done except for waiting. like kanaya, or davesprite, for example.

you mention that it was ooc for dave and karkat not to help terezi while she was getting abused. the thing is, terezi tried to keep her relationship with gamzee under wraps. she didn't really succeed at that, but people still didn't know exactly what was going on with them at first. karkat wasn't even told about it. he didn't even know she was dating gamzee up until very late into the trip. dave had just broken up with her and didn't know much about troll quadrants by that point, so he probably just thought it was all kismesis shit and didn't want to intrude. again, if he had known what was really going on, he probably would have intervened, but he only had a vague idea about it since terezi wasn't open about her relationship with gamzee. that is, up until the very end of the trip, and by that point dave and karkat WERE trying to encourage her.

you mention that they also didn't help rose with her addiction, but dave was trying! he spent a whole scene trying to get her to drink less! (the one right before the rosemary kiss)

but the thing is. most of the meteor shenanigans happened off screen, so we're not certain of anything. but again, for the sake of argument, let's assume they actually weren't even trying to help their friends. why would that matter? why would the fact that they weren't rushing to fix all of their friends emotional issues have any impact on their feelings for each other? they're traumatised teenagers, they make mistakes! theyre flawed characters!

kanaya didnt try to help terezi with the gamzee situation either. she didnt try to contact the ship either. instead, she spent most of her time with rose. does that make rosemary a horrible pairing? is it ooc for rose and kanaya? from what i've seen, this doesnt seem to be your opinion on the subject.

yeah that’s basically it. you don’t need to respond, but a response would be welcome. thank you for reading!

[broiderie]

Well. I got part of the fic written. Figured I'd post what I've got an see if anyone besides me thinks it's worth continuing.

Please don't copy, translate, or repost my work anywhere else. My mind is deranged enough without adding anyone else into it.

Also, I have no idea how to format. I'm posting and writing on my phone so it's unedited and definitely unbeta'd. I also haven't written fanfic in 10+ years so heed the warning that it may suck.

Thanks @drabbles-mc for encouragement and letting me bounce plot points off you. I may actually have an idea where this is going now.

Warnings: swear words, talk of death and drug use (if I missed anything let me know.)

This is currently a Taza x daughter!OC

Lost Princessa

Taza sighed with relief as he stepped into the casino with his brothers. They had a big meeting with the Chinese in a little while, but in the meantime they could rest and gather their wits. The younger brothers split off to do their own thing. They were headed for the tables with strict instructions to keep Coco contained.

Bishop and Hank turned to follow El Padrino to the bar when Adam, one of the tribal elders stopped Taza.

“Che, someone showed up here looking for you a few days ago. She asked for you by name, brother. Said she's family.”

Bishop frowned at him. “Taza – thought you didn’t have family, hermano.”

“I don’t.” He turned to Adam. “Who is she?”

“Says she’s your kid.”

Taza's eyebrows shot up. “I don’t have a kid.”

Taza wasn’t a stranger to women throughout his years with MCs, but no one had ever informed him they were pregnant or claimed a child was his before. “How old is she?” If she was young, he would almost bet it was a ruse.

Adam opened the pad folio and pulled out a photo copy of an ID. The name on it was Megan Morales. It listed her age as 26 and her address as somewhere in Tennessee.

“I’ve never even been to Tennessee.”

“Well, brother, it's your name on her California birth certificate. We checked – it’s legit.” Adam pulled another photo copy from his folder.

Bishop waved Hank and Marcus off to send them on to the bar where they could keep an eye on the younger members of the club. “Who's her mother?”

“Birth certificate lists a Gabriella Morales.”

Taza stopped cold. “Gabriella? Are you sure?”

“See for yourself-" Adam handed Taza a copy of the girl's birth certificate.

Bishop studied his brother’s face. “Do you recognize the name, brother?”

“Yeah. She was a hang around when I was VM. She left before I did though. Just disappeared. Guess I know where she went now.” He turned back to the tribal elder. “Where is this girl?”

“We called her in this morning and put her in a small conference room since we knew you’d be in today. Conference room 12, when you’re ready.”

Taza took a deep breath and nodded before turning to Bishop. Bishop spoke first. “What do you wanna do, brother?”

“This meeting is too important for my personal shit to screw us up. I'll deal with this after our meeting.”

Bishop nodded. “Let’s get a drink. I think you need it.”

Meanwhile in a conference room halls away, Megan sat playing with a cold bottle of water. She’d come to the casino as a last ditch effort to escape her past and hopefully find the man who was supposed to be her father. The frayed sleeve of her flannel soaked up the condensation as she picked at the label causing her to shiver.

Tribal elders had told her that Mr. Romero should arrive at some point today when they called. They’d asked to make copies of her ID and the birth certificate that she'd found among her birth mother's papers a week ago. She’d let them make the copies and then been escorted to this bland room “to wait".

So she waited. And waited. And paced. And waited. And paced some more. They’d brought her a sandwich and chips at lunch that she’d picked at but nerves and exhaustion had her stomach in knots so most of the food remained on the table in front of her.

Hours passed. She had long since stopped pacing and did her best to concentrate on what she’d say the first time she met Taza. She removed the letter that she’d found with the damning paperwork and read it again. So much of it was rambling from her mother’s untreated mental illness, but enough could be deciphered to explain her mother’s strange position. According to the letter, her birth mother had never intended for Megan to know who her father was – but had provided the information for the birth certificate in the chance that Megan could use the tribal connection later for benefits. If all else failed, it would be revealed after her mother’s death allowing Megan to make her own choice about finding her father.

The letter was dated days after Megan’s third birthday.

A knock sounded on the conference room door startling her. A member of the casino security team poked his head in. “Ms. Morales?”

“Yes?”

“Mr. Romero just arrived for his scheduled meeting. He’ll be here as soon as it’s over to meet with you. He sends his apologies, but his meeting can’t be postponed.”

Megan nodded. “Of course. Thank you.”

“Do you need anything ma’am?”

“No. Thank you.”

He nodded and shut the door quietly.

Megan took a deep breath and tried to settle her heart rate. She’d meet him soon.

The meeting with the Chinese went exactly as planned- assassination and all. After finishing the celebratory drink with his brothers Taza sighed. His rings caught in his hair as he ran his hands through it. “Bish- I gotta go handle this shit.”

“I know, brother. You want back-up?”

Taza thought- physically he shouldn’t need back up and if he did casino security were all there. Mentally- having his brothers- his best friends- at his back may not be a bad idea. It also would reveal more of his past than he really wanted the younger contingent to know about him yet. “Wouldn’t mind a cool head or two to help me figure this out.”

Bishop nodded. “I’ll send the Idiots for food. Padrino too.” He looked at Hank. “You good to stick with us?”

“Course. Riz and Creep can babysit.”

Bishop and Taza nodded and poured another stiff drink while Hank went to give out orders. Ten minutes later Bishop, Taza, and Hank were headed to the conference room holding a key part of Taza’s past.

The conference room had a glass door and Taza paused to get a look at the girl claiming to be his daughter. Her dark hair was braided nearly to her waist. Her face wasn’t visible. Her hands blocked his view. Her slumped shoulders were covered by a green flannel shirt that had seen better days. Stained jeans with hole in the knee nearest the door were cuffed- obviously too long- above worn leather boots. She’d clearly been through the wringer.

He glanced over his shoulder at his brothers. Hank and Bishop gave encouraging nods. They’d follow his lead.

Megan startled again as the door opened. She’d zoned out. Too mentally exhausted to think any more. She jumped to her feet knocking the now warm bottle of water to the floor.

She faced three men in leather kuttes. It was obvious that two of them were there as support. The one with the longest hair had tribal jewelry and was the most likely candidate to be Mr. Che Romero. He spoke first.

“Ms. Morales?”

“Yes. Megan – please.”

“I was told you wanted to see me. I’m Taza – Che Romero. These are my brothers- Bishop and Hank.”

Megan nodded nervously. “Yes sir. Can we sit?”

Bishop smiled, “Of course.”

Whether consciously or not – the three men took up positions at the long conference table as if they were back home in Templo. Megan settler herself back in her chair facing them.

“I’m sorry. I know this must be a shock for you. Hell, it was a shock for me. I’m sure the elders showed you the copies.of my papers. I have the originals here. They were in with Gabriella’s will. I only received them last week.” Megan’s leg jittered subtly shaking the table.

Taza lifted his chin from his steeples fingers. “Her will? Gabby's dead?”

“Shit. I should have led with that. Yeah. Gabriella died over two weeks ago. It took the state a bit to track me down.”

“Woah, sweetheart. Deep breath. Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Bishop asked firmly. He could see the nerves rolling off the girl. She was practically vibrating with tension.

She took a quick sip of water and nodded quickly. After a visible deep breath, her shaking hands settled a little.

“Right. My name is Megan Morales. I grew up in foster care is Tennessee. My birth mother is Gabriella Morales. I haven’t seen or heard from her since my third birthday. She was reported as rambling in the supermarket and was taken into custody for evaluation. Two days later, someone realized she had a kid and came to the apartment to find me.” She adjusted in her chair and glanced at the terrifying trio at the other end of the table. “Apparently her lifestyle recently caught up with her. She was found dead in her apartment by the apartment manager. Track marks everywhere. OD'd. She had a will and papers at her bank. The state liquidated any assets she had to pay for the burial costs, but tracked me down to give me the papers.”

She reached under the table producing a battered black leather backpack. Reaching inside, she pulled a Manila envelope out and passed it down the table to Taza. Then she laid a single piece of lined paper that had been folded over and over on top of it. “That’s all that’s left of her now.”

Taza looked in the envelope first. It looked like a bunch of legal paperwork. He passed it to his brothers to investigate while he looked at the letter.

It was dated 23 years before and addressed to ‘my precious daughter’. He skimmed it quickly. Apparently Gabriella never intended to tell anyone who the father of her child was. She didn’t want Megan associated with “his lifestyle”. She only put his name on the birth certificate for medical and legal purposes. She outlined who he was in the letter. That he rode with the VM and had connections with the tribal casino.

“You tracked me down to VM?” Taza asked alarmed. The idea of his child alone in their territory was terrifying.

Megan shook her head vehemently.  “Fuck no!” Hank snorted his laugh at her outburst. “Sorry.” She looked sheepish. “I figured I’d try the tribe first. I don’t have a passport or the money to make it all the way to Mexico.”

“So you flew here from Tennessee?” Bishop asked.

“Not exactly. I hitched most of the way.”

“Not the safest way to travel, sweetheart.” Bishop leaned back in his chair and tapped the envelope now laying on the table. “Birth record, paternity test results against your military record… hell even sonogram photos. Your girl wasn’t fucking around, Taza.”

Hank spoke up for the first time. “She wanted her kid to have her birth right. Makes sense.” He smiled at Megan. “But why now? Why not wait to make contact before coming out here? Or why not just accept it and move on?”

Megan’s knee started jitterbug up and down again and she started playing with her fingers. “Why not? Not like there’s much waiting for me in Tennessee. Figured a new start wasn’t the worst idea. Might even find family, ya know.”

All three bikers nodded slowly. Taza gave her a tight smile. “You’re right. This is a surprise, but not necessarily an unwelcome one. We’re going to step out for a minute. Discuss this. We’ll be back.”

Megan nodded and pulled at the threads on her sleeve cuffs. Hank and Bishop stood and walked to the door. Taza followed pausing to awkwardly pat her shoulder.

Out in the hallway, Bishop and Hank looked to Taza. “What do you wanna do, hermano?”

Taza pushed his hair back again. “You looked at the paperwork. Was it legit?”

Hank nodded. “Either legit or very expensive forgeries. From the look of her- I’d say legit. Besides, brother… she looks like you.”

Bishop cracked a grin. “Nah- she’s much prettier.”

Taza cracked a smile and shoved at El presidente’s shoulder roughly. Bish chuckled and gently shoved back. “You wanna bring her home? San Pad?

Taza breathed deep. “Shit. Yeah. At least for a few days while we figure shit out. She may not wanna stick around.”

Bishop nodded. “Go. Make the plans with her. We’ll go make sure that the Village Idiots order her some food too. Looks like she could use it.”

[sirtommyholland]

Four Years of Birthdays

A/N: Hey everyone! This isn’t my first time writing for Harry but my first time actually posting it so I’m very excited! This is inspired by the little piece I wrote on Tom Holland’s birthday, I wanted to make a similar concept. Hope you guys like it, and happy birthday to our beloved baby boy Harry Styles! We love you so much!💜

Word Count: 2.4k (she tiny because I suck)

Summary: Harry’s four different birthdays with Y/N in differents points of his life. 

Fluff all the way! with like a little talk about sexual themes because I had to.

poc friendly and plus size friendly (I think, please tell me if I made a mistake!) because we dont blush bright red or swim in men’s clothes in this house💫

2019 - 25th Birthday

Spending his birthday with Y/N was one of Harry’s favourite things. Over the last ten years of his life, she had missed quite a few of them as he was on the road and she was back home in London, going to uni and living a normal life. It was only the last couple of years that he was able to be home on his birthday, his solo career allowing him a bit more freedom to arrange his schedule as he wanted. 

This year, he had wanted to have a quiet birthday, just with his family and close friends. And of course, his girlfriend, who was currently climbing on his back on the bed, trying to coax him out of sleep. 

“Loviee” she whined into the back of his neck between kisses. “Wake up.”

“No.” his voice was deeper than usual as he groaned, trying to bury himself more into the pillows to avoid the bright sunlight in the room. “‘M sleepy.”

“But it’s your birthday.” she protested with a kiss to a small part of his cheek that wasn’t hidden away. “I need to give you your 25 kisses.”

“Just 25?” he frowned, raising his head from the pillow to look back at her. “That’s nowhere near enough! You kiss me more on a regular day.”

“Hmm..” she pretended to ponder his words, one of her hands going up to brush away the soft curls that fell on his forehead. “Then how about I give you a blowie for 25 minutes?”

Even if she couldn’t see his face, she would still be able to hear the grin in his voice. “Now that’s more like it.” He was turning over and laying on his back in a heartbeat, tugging at her thighs to make her straddle him again. 

She complied, throwing one leg over his hips and gently sitting on thighs, not putting her full weight. She leaned down to softly brush her lips against his, once, twice, three times. “Happy birthday, baby.”  she sighed against them, rubbing her nose against his lovingly. 

“Thank you, angel.” he smiled, letting his hands roam over the soft material of her shirt. “I reckon it’s gonna be the best one so far.” 

“Really? Is there a reason why?” she grinned, feeling like she already knew the answer.

“Because this is the first one I’m waking up with you as my girlfriend. Finally,” he sighed. “I can kiss you for real instead of making a wish for it when I blow out the candles.”

“You’re so cheesy.” she teased with a smile, leaning down to give him another kiss. “I still can't believe you wished for it.”

“Literally every year.” he confirmed, only blushing slightly under her loving gaze. “Honestly don’t know what I’m gonna wish for this time. It’s been the same thing for many years.” 

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” She placed a final peck to his lips, then swiftly got up from his lap. “Now get up, your mum’s expecting us for breakfast.”

“But- but- my blowie!” 

She looked back to see an adorable pout on his lips, one that she almost couldn’t resist. Almost.

“Later.” she promised, pulling him to his feet and laying a few kisses on his neck. “I’m gonna take care of you properly tonight, after your party. Along with your final present.”

“You’re a tease.” he breathed, the meaning behind her words not so hidden. She grinned, and trailed her hand softly down his back until she was grabbing his bum, giving it a firm squeeze. 

“Heyy!” he jumped, trying to grab her before she made a run for the bathroom, and failing.

“Pick your outfit, it takes ages!” she yelled through the closed door, making him huff and fall back on the bed dramatically. 

“Harry Edward Styles!” Well, guess she knew him too well.

“Yes, ma’am!”

2009 - 15th birthday

“Hello.”

Harry raised his head from the plastic cup he was refilling, to see a familiar girl looking at him with a friendly smile. 

“Hi.” he smiled back as he straightened up, silently giving her the cue to go on. 

“Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to say that I really liked your performance. You guys were incredible!” 

“Oh, thank you! Of course you’re not bothering me. I’m glad to know you liked it.” He grinned. “We’re at the same school, right? I’ve seen you around before.”

“Yeah, but we’ve never actually talked, I think. I’m Y/N, by the way. Will invited me because I live next door.” she explained, nodding towards his bandmate that was currently hosting his birthday party/small concert in his garage. 

“You don’t need to explain yourself! Next time, I’ll just have to make sure that I invite you myself.”

She grinned at his words. “That’s very nice of you, Harry. Oh, and happy birthday, by the way! I almost forgot.” Right, she was at his birthday party. She already knew his name. 

“Thank you! And thanks for coming.” 

Before she could open her mouth to say anything else, the lights were dimmed and the back entrance of the garage was illuminated with a soft, orange light as his friends brought in the cake. Off-key voices singing him happy birthday filled the space, and he made his way to his friends with a huge smile on his face, Y/N joining the small crowd around him as they waited for him to blow out the candles.

“Don’t forget to make a wish!” one of his mates yelled just as he was leaning towards the cake. 

“Sorry.” he chuckled, then closed his eyes to make his wish. I want to make music. For all my life.

Little did he know, that would be his only wish in the next ten years that didn’t involve the girl that he had just met. 

2016 - 22th birthday

“I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling twenty-two! Everything will be alright if you keep me next to you!”

“What the fuck.” he muttered into his pillow, trying to figure out if he was dreaming or if his phone was actually ringing with a Taylor Swift song. But even when he was wide awake after a few minutes he could still hear her melodic voice, so he reached out with a groan and checked the caller ID. Of course.

“How did you manage to change my ringtone all the way from London?” he answered in a groggy voice. 

“Well, good morning to you too, hun, took you long enough! I’m very good, thanks for asking! And I got Niall to do it yesterday, obviously.” 

“... Morning Y/N.” 

“Oh, stop grumbling, it doesn’t suit you. Get up and get ready, I’m gonna facetime you in thirty minutes.” And before he could say anything, she hung up on him. 

He looked at this phone in disbelief. Did she just hang up on me on my birthday?! He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the soft smile that appeared on his face. To be honest, there were a lot of things he couldn’t help when it came to her. 

Half an hour later, when he was freshly showered and dressed, his phone rang with an incoming facetime call just like she said. She probably set an alarm for exactly thirty minutes, he thought fondly.

Her smiling face greeted him as he accepted the call. “Happy birthday, Haz!!”

“Thanks, love.” he chuckled, eyeing the tiny cupcake in front of her through the small screen. “Whatcha got there?”

“That’s your birthday cupcake, made it myself! Was tired of shitty store-bought cake.” 

“I don’t know, it looks kind of ugly.” he joked, grinning at her mock-offended face. “I could do better. I worked in a bakery, ya know.”

“You literally just ran the register and washed the dishes.”

“Still, in a bakery!” 

She was shaking her head at his shit-eating grin, but he could still see a soft smile playing at her lips. It caused his heart to flutter in his chest. What he wouldn’t give to see her smiling at him like that everyday. 

“Anyway, candle time!” she piped, grabbing a lighter from somewhere behind the camera and lighting up the single candle on her tiny cupcake.  

Harry watched her raise the cupcake closer to the camera and she instructed him to make a wish. This routine was familiar to them now. Every year, she would video call with a different type of cake, to make up for not being able to be there with him.

Harry closed his eyes, and made the same wish that he had been making for the last six years of his life. I wish you were mine. 

He opened his eyes and blew lightly towards the screen, her actions matching his as she blew out the candle in his place. She gave a little cheer afterwards, and the brightness of her eyes warmed him up all the way down to his toes, even through a phone screen. 

They talked for a while after that, catching up on each other’s lives and discussing the dates they would be able to meet up again. She hung up with a final ‘happy birthday, love you!’ and then he was left staring at his phone, a small smile still remaining on his face. I wish you were mine. 

And later, when he logged onto his twitter account and tweeted some certain song lyrics, he only cared about one person’s reaction out of millions. 

2018 - 24th birthday

“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.” 

Harry turned towards the kitchen door that led to the back garden, seeing her slide it close to make her way towards him.

“Just taking a breather, love.” he said, accepting his woolly coat that she handed him. “Thank you.”

“Didn’t want you to catch a cold.” She sat next to him on the wooden porch bench, wrapped up in her own fuzzy coat. There was another item in her hand, a thick, heavy looking box. 

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing at it. 

“Oh, I came here to give it to you. Your final gift.” 

“Y/N.” he sighed. “The others were more than enough.” 

“I don’t think this even counts as my gift, honestly.” She grinned at the puzzled look on his face. “Just open it.” 

He did. Inside was a thick notebook, a scrapbook by the looks of it, that read ‘Happy Birthday Harry! - 2018’ 

He looked at her curiously, but she just smiled and told him to open it again. He turned to the first page, and ran his gaze across the page. His eyes widened in surprise. He quickly flipped a few pages to see that all of them had the same thing; printings. Printed screenshots from various social media platforms, of his fans wishing him a happy birthday. 

“I know you don’t use social media a lot these days.” she explained as he kept reading the tweets glued onto the scrapbook. “But you were trending on Twitter today, and yesterday too, lots of people wishing you a happy birthday and telling how much they loved you. I thought you might want to see it.”

He let out a watery laugh, not being able to tear his gaze away from the book in his hands. He couldn’t help the tears, not really. She had taken the time to print out lots and lots of tweets, instagram posts, everything; she had cut them and put them in this book and added little stickers in between with colorful doodles. And she had done it to carry his fans’ messages to him, she had basically hand-delivered their gifts of love to him.

“Thank you.” he breathed, his voice catching in his throat. “This is… I think this may be the best gift I’ve ever received.”

“Well, like I said, it’s not technically from me. I just put some tweets together, your fans are the ones who wrote them.” She paused, then added. “I just wanted you to see just how loved you are. By everyone. You have such a kind heart, and an amazing soul; all of these people are aware of it and they love you for it.” She tapped the book in his lap, emphasising her words. 

“Thank you.” he repeated himself, seemingly at a loss for words. He closed the book and carefully put it back in its box, intending to read everything in it later. He placed it beside him, then turned to her and pulled her in a hug. 

Her arms were around him in a second, not hesitating to tighten around him and pull him closer. She was so warm even in the cold weather, and she smelled so nice, and he wouldn’t be able to pull back if he tried. He didn’t know how long they sat there in each other's embrace, but when he felt her starting to lean back, something in him shifted. He turned his head towards her as she pulled away, so his cheek was softly grazing hers. She stilled a bit, looking into his eyes as if she was looking for something, then she closed her eyes and turned the rest of the way, her lips meeting his in a gentle kiss. 

His breath hitched in his throat as his lips slightly parted, a small gasp making its way out of them when he realized finally, finally he was kissing her. He was kissing Y/N. This was really happening.

He brought a hand up to gently cup her cheek, his thumb stroking her cheekbone as they kissed, probably the softest, the most incredible kiss of his life. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe how amazing she felt against him, how her hands in his hair felt just right, how warm her cheek was under his hand. 

But despite every bone in his body wanting to kiss her forever, he was the first one to pull away, because he just couldn’t keep it in anymore. “I wish you were mine.” 

“What?” she asked breathlessly, apparently still under the effect of their kiss.

“I wish you were mine.” he repeated. “That’s the wish I’ve made on every single birthday since I was sixteen. Everytime you looked at me and told me to make a wish, I was only able to think about how much I wanted to kiss you.” 

She stared at him with parted lips, looking into his eyes like she was trying to figure out if he was messing with him. She could only see love and admiration. 

“You’re an idiot, Harry Styles.” she breathed. Then, she cupped his face with her hands and kissed him again, and again, and again, and he felt like everything in his life was finally going to be okay. 

 some end notes: Sooo I’m sorry for the kind of shitty ending. It’s literally 3 am in Turkey rn and I have an early class but I just wanted to finish this quickly and post it before I went to bed. I haven’t written anything in months because I wasn’t 🌌feeling it🌌 so I basically bullied myself into writing this haha. This is my first posted Harry piece but there are a few other pieces I’ve been working on! (for months, literally. *sigh*)

~~

If you liked it, please feel free to reblog and leave a teeny tiny feedback! Writers really appreciate it!💜

[justkending]

Moral of the Story (Prologue)

Series Summary: From childhood friends, to highschool sweethearts, the two naive, young, and lovestruck teens decided the best way to keep a strong relationship during college would be to marry right out of highschool. No one batted an eye at the idea as everyone knew they were soulmates. However, college is a big step in a person’s life. You learn new things about yourself, you make new friends, find new hobbies… And maybe being newly weds and going to different colleges across the states wasn’t the best plan… After a falling out, and a tragic heartbreaking divorce, the two now hold grudges for how the other handled the whole thing in the past. Neither not really knowing both sides of the story. 10 years later, and they both get a call from the lawyers office that settled their divorce. Somehow the papers never went through and the divorce was never completed. So now, the exes, or should we say husband and wife, have to meet back up after all these years to settle their failed marriage once and for all. (This summary will be shorter in other chapters. I just needed to get the full concept out there;)

A/N (repeat): So the other day while I was doing my hair (quite the process), I was playing music and the song Moral of the Story by Ashe came on. Mind you, I’ve heard this song hundreds of times, but for some reason, this time I got a major story idea! Listening to the lyrics brought me to this new series. Of course, the lengthy summary above will give you an idea of what came to my brain, but I recommend you listen to the song still because it plays a big part in my thought process:) (Plus it’s a good song;) Enjoy and please do not hesitate to share your thoughts and comments with me! I love each and every single one<3

(I will release the first chapter at the beginning of next week! That way I can give myself some time to write more chapters before sharing it!)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N (Modern AU)

Word Count: 1200+

Prologue:

"Melody, have the papers for the Bee's Knees company come in yet?"

"Uh, no. But I can call them again and see if they faxed it or sent over a physical copy though," Melody answered from her desk, already typing away to find the company.

"Perfect. We have a meeting with a recycling plant next week and I want to get everything set before we go in with them," Y/N nodded, coming out from her office with a file in her hands. She turned to her assistant at the front desk who was about 20 emails deep and already finding the issue. "Hey, you're not coming in tomorrow, right?"

"Um, no, no. I am. I rescheduled that date," she answered bashfully as if she had been caught in the act of something.

"Melody..." Y/N drug out, hand on her hip.

"What? I- He understood. He said he was fine moving it to Saturday," the young woman shrugged, never looking back at her boss that was clearly sending her a motherly stare.

"You're already over your 40 hours this week, and you've rescheduled with him, what? 3 times now?" Y/N moved to the front of the desk so the young brunette had to make eye contact with her.

"Yes," she answered hesitantly.

"Is it just nerves or something else?" Y/N smirked.

"I'm not nervous... It's just been a while since I've had time for a date."

"Two things about what you just said in the past minute. One, clearly this guy likes you because he's rescheduled with you this many times and hasn't called it off yet. So if you're nervous about it not going well on his end, I think you're safe," Y/N pointed a finger at her.

"But-," Melody started.

"Second," Y/N cut off with a raised eyebrow. "I'm giving you time to go on a date and you're still not taking it. Work is no longer an excuse."

Melody stopped avoiding eye contact and looked up at the Y/H/C hair woman leaning on her reception desk.

"You've been talking with my mom again, haven't you?" she sighed.

"I promised I'd take care of you. So yes, I have. And though her reasoning for you dating is because she wants grandbabies, I just want you to have fun and live your life. You're 22. Don't waste your young years being scared."

"Ugh, fine. I'll text him now and see if he's still available for tonight," she groaned.

"Perfect!" Y/N grinned in victory as she started to walk back to her office. "I expect the details in the morning," she winked before she walked in.

"Oh, Y/N!" Melody stopped her. "A message came for you while you were in that last meeting."

"Who from?" Y/N quirked an eyebrow, moving back to the desk.

"Uh, I don't really know. Didn't sound familiar, but here's the name and number they said to call back from," she answered, handing her a note.

Y/N took the small paper and looked it over. Her face dropped and her eyes widened.

"You ok? Is it someone you know?" the young assistant asked, noticing what looked like horror on her face.

"Um, yeah. Yeah, an old acquaintance of mine," Y/N tried to quickly brush off. "Um, I'm going to take this. Can you hold any calls and if anyone comes to talk, tell them to just email me?"

"Oh, ok. Yeah, I'll take care of it," Melody nodded.

"Thank you."

Rushing back to her office and quickly shutting her door, she raced to her phone. She read the business name again, not sure if she was dreaming or if it was a hallucination.

Nope. Hammer Attorney was written in Melody's perfect penmanship on the paper with a number that held an area code from New York. A place she never thought she would hear from again and from a town she hadn't visited in almost 10 years._________________

"Buck, did you tell Fury about getting those new water therapy machines?" Steve shouted from his room.

"We're at home, Steve. Why are we talking about work?" Bucky groaned as he slouched on the couch. A beer in hand and a documentary with I Survived stories playing in front of him.

Steve came in from around the corner looking down at his phone in hand before moving his eye line to his roommate.

"Because I just got a call from the night crew saying that the last one that was working, finally went out tonight while they were running it for some test," Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Ugh, you would think that a facility run by a billionaire who literally makes his money on high-tech machines, wouldn't have to ask for those kinds of things," Bucky groaned, grabbing his own phone and going through emails. "Let me check to see if the email went through. He wasn't in office when I went to tell him."

As he was sorting through the hundreds of emails sent back and forth just this week alone, he found the reply message.

"Yeah, management confirmed it. They should be in by Saturday it looks like. Guess Stark was still working out the kinks to a new one and was waiting to send one our way until the last one died to get more time on his newest model."

Steve nodded before walking to the kitchen and typing Bucky's response to the other crew members.

"The man is always finding new ways to upgrade them before he can even send them to us."

Just as Bucky was about to throw his phone to the side again though, it started ringing. Looking at the caller ID, he didn't recognize the unknown number. It was from in-state but in his hometown area of Brooklyn. He pinched his eyebrows together confused at the call, but answered it anyway, thinking it must be someone from home.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Mr. Barnes?" The other voice answered.

"Yes, this is him. Who's this?" he asked, sitting up a little and putting the beer on the end table.

"My name is Matthew Murdock. I work at Nelson and Murdock Law firm," he went on. Bucky shook his head not knowing what that was supposed to mean. "Well, you may actually know us previously as Hammer Attorney. We recently just took over their business after some fraud issues."

Bucky's heart stopped. He knew what that name meant.

"I hate to inform you, but we were going through some of their old files. Ones we were informed could be incomplete or done completely incorrectly due to little care in the actual cases, but more so in taking the money."

"Incomplete cases?" Bucky said softly. His brain was still trying to wrap around the conversation.

"Yes, unfortunately, it looks like a lot of cases having to deal with divorces that the past owners handled, were done strictly in order to launder money. They weren't actually certified, nor trained in handling divorce settlements."

Bucky froze. Eyes wide. Mouth agape.

He stuttered out a response when the man on the other line didn't continue.

"A-And talking about incomplete divorce settlements, you called because..." Bucky knew. He needed to hear it out loud because if he didn't, it wasn't true. It couldn't be.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Barnes, but it looks as though you and your wife, Y/N Y/L/N or sorry, Y/N Barnes, are actually not divorced."

(I will release the first chapter at the beginning of next week! That way I can give myself some time to write more chapters before sharing it!)

Moral of the Story Taglist:

@taylormobley @ximaginx @vicmc624

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @heyiamthatbitch @lizzymacy555  @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses​ @pham-tastical 

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​  @laneygthememequeen​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @carls1022​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @carls1022​ @anise-d-castle6​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​ @alyispunk​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​