#it is so frustrating to see stuff where people do not take it seriously enough to google that if after an amputation what mobility aid youd+

[volfoss]

It is genuinely so frustrating how fandoms sees a disabled character and then make content of them w no research of their condition

[slut4megantheestallion]

Hey can you do cullen x reader headcannons where the reader ghosts them and ignores all the messages and ignores them in school and stuff like that? it’s okay if not!

Cullen siblings x reader that ghosts & ignores them Headcannons

Warnings ⚠️: stalking mentioned of mind reading, cullens x reader, maybe some fluff, angst, black!reader, obsessivnesss.

Characters ☆: Edward cullen, Alice cullen, Emmet cullen, Rosalie cullen, Jasper cullen.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════════ ⋆★⋆ ════

-Edward Cullen

● Edward is instantly intrigued when he realizes he can't read your thoughts. To him, that's already unusual, but what really catches his attention is the way you avoid him and his family.

● He tries to figure you out what makes you tick - listening intently to your conversations with others, hoping for clues about why you're ignoring him

● Edward uses his mind reading ability to hear the thoughts of people around you, looking for any insights about you. It frustrates him when nothing adds up to you. Most people's thoughts about you are mundane or superficial, leaving him with no answers about you.

● Edward finds himself shadowing you more than he cares to admit, trying to learn more about you from a distance. He tries to act like it's just harmless curiosity, though deep down, he knows it bordering on obsession.

● He'll linger near your locker of eavesdrop on your conversation in the cafeteria, always careful to stay undetected.

● He would send polite text messages asking if he does anything to offend you, but when you don't respond, he starts over analyzing everything.

● He thinks about using his vampire speed to catch you off guard, but he doesn't want to scare you off.

● if you accidentally bump onto him the hallway and mutter an apology with meeting his eyes, his cold, undead heart flicks of warmth. He becomes fixiated on earning a silver of attraction. Though he's deeply conflicted about his growing obsession.

-Alice Cullen

● Alice was genuinely baffled by your behavior. She's used to everyone liking her, so your avoidance to her is both confused and challenging to her. She had visions of you interacting with the cullens and becoming part of their circle, which only fuels her determination to get close to you.

● She would wave at you across the cafeteria at lunch or try to sit near you, hoping you would acknowledge her.

● Alice would send you cheerful and polite text messages, trying to start conversation, but when you don't respond, she gives up. She'll try again with something like, "Hey, just wanted to say hi!"

● After weeks of being ghosted, she starts questioning if she did something to offend you. She would try to win you over until you notice her

● Alice would leave small, thoughtful gifts in your locker - a book she thinks you'd like, a handmade bracelet, or a note with a kind message. When you ignore her gestures, she becomes more determined, viewing it as a puzzle she needs to solve.

● If you so much smile in her direction, Alice feels like she won the lottery. She'll immediately text edward or tell jasper gushing about the tiny interaction.

-Emmet Cullen

●At first, he doesn't take your avoidance seriously. He thinks it's funny and treats it like a game, trying to get a reaction out of you. He'll do ridiculous things in class, like make exaggerated noises or cracking jokes loud enough for you to hear, just to see if you acknowledge him.

● if you ignore him in the hallway, Emmet might pretend to trip or dramatically gasp, saying something like, "Oh no, Y/n, you've wounded me again by ignoring my existence!" He genuinely enjoys the challenge of getting you to notice him and sees it as an opportunity to show off his charm.

●Despite his playful nature, he's extremely protective. He secretly keeps his eyes on you, ready to step in if someone bothers or upset you. He doesn't understand why he feels so attached to someone who barely acknowledges his existence, but he can't help it.

● on rare occasions, you ignoring him stings. He hides it well, but he starts to wonder if there's something wrong with him or if he's done something to upset you, hoping it's not because you dislike him.

-Rosalie Cullen

●Rosalie assumes you're ignoring her and her family out of jealousy or hatred. She takes it personally and brushes you off as someone who's unworthy of her time. However, as weeks went by, you began to intrigue her. She wonders what makes you different from everyone else.

● She admires the way how confident and independent you are, though she'll never admit it. She finds the way you ignore people both impressive and frustrating. She tries to engage small talk with you, like complimenting your outfit or asking about an assignment, but your dry short responses leave her both annoyed and intrigued.

● extremely overprotective. If she overhears anyone talk bad about you, she'll shut it down. She might not understand why she feels the need to defend you, but she will not tolerate anyone disrespecting you.

● if you do acknowledge her like a small smile, a thank you, or a brief conversation- Rosalie feels an unexpected warmth. It's rare for her to feel genuinely happy, but your attention sparks something in her that she didn't know she craved.

-Jasper Cullen

● Honestly, out of all his siblings, he's the most understanding. He doesn't take it personally and respects your desire to be alone, but he can't help but be curious about your emotional state, especially since you're so calm and composed.

●He tries to subtly influence your emotions, hoping to catch a glimpse of what you're feeling. When his attempts don't seem to affect you, he's both impressed and puzzled. He starts to admire emotional resilience and wonder what makes you so different from everyone else.

● he's quietly overprotective, often wanting to be near you during school events or crowded spaces. He tells himself it's just to make sure you're safe, but deep down, he's drawn to you in a way he can't even explain.

● He worries that his interest in you is selfish, especially given his past. He feels guilty, wanting to be near you, fearing he might bring danger to your life.

● if you do ever notice him jasper with a kind gesture, he feels a quiet sense of peace. He'll treasure those rare moments and hold onto them longer than he should.

[cowboyschumi]

MUSE

Summary: Oscar is known for being bad at padel, which is why he tries other hobbies, like photography. Now, he clearly needs something to take photos of.

Author's note: Oscar trying to play paddel 🤏

I'm a huge fan of taking inspiration from songs, so you can listen to this. Don't forget to enjoy the reading and show some love. <3

Warnings: None ig.

————————————————————————

COWBOYSCHUMI | 2025 All rights reserved. Do not copy, translate, or upload on other platforms.

————————————————————————

Oscar had to be grateful for being that good of a driver. Man, he was really bad at other sports. Everyone pointed it out and made fun of him, some people even pitied him or found it cute. He even tried golfing, but that racket was his last straw. He was a bit frustrated, but Oscar wasn’t the type to get frustrated and give up. He just accepted the fact that he wasn’t gifted enough.

His Instagram was— for his luck because he wasn't a media guy— managed by a social media professional, who made him posts and even took charge of taking pictures. Yes, none of his dumps, captions, or stories were posted by his own hands, which was crazy. He wanted some sort of control over that, after all, he had a voice and a platform. Not taking advantage of that would be a shame, besides there was no fun and genuine part if he wasn't the one behind his Instagram. So he decided to take it more seriously, it made his brain hurt in the most untolerable ways but he started to post more, engage with his fans.

Instagram dumps are such a religious thing for some people, he wasn't in that group until now. Having a picture perfect Instagram would let people have more connection with the places, his interests— perceive him differently and not some boring and flat boy with not much to say.

Like any driver, he had a stylist, a PR team, and other fancy stuff—which he didn’t like much because the main focus was on him, physically. His content was different now; it was full of sunsets, yachts, cars, and food pictures. He had to thank his team for lending him a professional camera—it made the quality ten times better.

"It's a lost cause." Oscar spoke as he carelessly dried his hair with a towel.

You vividly remember the first time he stepped into one of your classes—the typical shy kid who barely spoke. Other drivers came along with him, doing most of the talking, but they weren’t consistent in attending. For them, padel was just a way to kill time. Oscar, on the other hand, wanted to know everything about it—from the size of the court to executing the perfect shot with his racket. A few weeks after his first class, he started booking lessons on his own, demanding more focus and dedication.

He came around twice a week, and seeing him so often, you quickly grew close. So it wasn’t surprising to find him frequently emerging from the showers at the padel club. You had even learned to tolerate his wannabe tennis grunts when he hit the ball. At this point, you had already seen the worst of him.

"You’re just being hard on yourself. Not everything has to be perfect."

Like in any common locker room, there was a bench where people placed their clothes after showering. You sat there as you two talked.

No matter how comfortable you were around Oscar, you respected him, so you made a point of not looking at his shirtless torso.

"Don't give me a pity speech. I’ve heard enough of that." He really did sound tired of hearing it. But it was true—no one should be too hard on themselves for not meeting their highest expectations. Striving for perfection in everything wasn’t normal. Oscar’s mindset was too rigid, and being optimistic felt like an impossible task for him.

"Webber told me you started… photography? He even sounded worried about what you might do with that." Chuckles and laughter echoed through the warm changing room.

"Yeah, I mean, it’s pretty great. Still got a lot to work on," he admitted sincerely, making that classic uncertain face he always did when he wasn’t sure about something. His facial expressions were always amusing. "I got bored of photographing the plants on my balcony at home. Took some photos of Lando, and Hattie doesn’t even want the lens near her."

Laughter filled the room again—it felt like a comedy show at this point. But when it faded, you exchanged a tense glance, as if communicating telepathically. A mischievous smirk lit up his face.

"No." Your answer was immediate and firm, anticipating what was coming.

"I haven’t even said anything!" He raised his hands in mock innocence, his guilty smile still in place. Oh, you knew him too well.

"I won’t. I’m not photogenic."

"Please, just one time."

Oscar always swore on one-time things. But when something felt good, you tended to repeat it. He knew exactly how to take advantage of your kindness, always asking for harmless favors—because, in the end, you never said no to him.

————————————————————————

And there you were, in his Monaco apartment, on a morning when rain was pouring outside. Oscar always pointed out the differences between his current lifestyle and the one he had in Australia, the daily longing for home. That small place in Europe had its charm, and he wouldn’t complain, but he missed the wide-open spaces, the warmer weather, and even his mom’s cooking. Now he lived on the highest floor of the busiest avenue, in a cramped apartment so small that he barely had space to walk around.

"I brought donuts and coffee," You announced while cleaning your boots on the entrance mat.

"Cool, thank you. Would you mind sitting by the window? The light is majestic." His attention was focused on his camera, probably adjusting some tricky settings.

"Already bossing around?" Unbelievable. The kid already thought he was a professional photographer, giving orders and having the worst attitude.

You had a big trench coat on, surprisingly still soaked after the unstoppable rain. And it kept coming—people still struggling with their umbrellas, cars almost floating down the street. That’s what you could see from how high his apartment was.

The brown-eyed boy placed his face behind his huge, intimidating camera, yet somehow, you didn’t feel intimidated by it—after all, he was the one taking the photos. But then, an unexpected expression of discontent crossed his face, confusing you. Your brows furrowed instantly, maybe you weren’t pretty enough to be photographed. You relaxed your body, stopped posing—that was it. At least you tried.

"Take it off." Oscar’s index finger pointed at my jacket, his face continued hidden behind the camera. The view was limited, but his expression remained unreadable—no emotion, all seriousness. Clueless.

"It's freezing cold outside, you're insane." Despite your protest, you did as he told you—just like always, hating yourself for it. Your body leaned against the nearly immense open window, the breeze sneaked through with ease, making your skin shiver. Your face card wasn’t your main attribute, maybe your toned padel body was. Still, you couldn’t quite grasp why he chose you, considering all the contacts and friends he had. Favors were an unbreakable thing between you two, but, of course, you never owed him a thing.

A few more adjustments, and his camera was down again, poker face still tattooed all over him. With slow, measured steps, he walked closer until he stood right in front of you. His mannerisms were always soft and gentle, like he had been written by a woman. Not exactly naive, but delicate enough to make you feel safe and comfortable in his presence.

Oscar set your coat aside, draping it over his vintage couch. His whole place had that aesthetic. You especially loved the Abu Dhabi carpet that stretched across the floor, its deep reddish tones were delightful. His eyes couldn’t help but dart down your slim silhouette. Your white sleeveless shirt, drenched from the rain, clung to your curves, turning entirely translucent against your skin.

Finally, your eyes connected, and you desperately searched for answers, whether in his gaze or through words. The driver was entirely focused on his task, calculating angles, observing the natural lighting, and analyzing your body. Over-analyzing your body.

You knew that look—the one men gave when they stared too long, leaving a disgusting feeling. But Oscar wasn’t like that. Yes, he was staring, but with such admiration and adoration that, for once, you didn’t mind. For the first time in a long time, you felt pretty. Feminine. Reaching that level of femininity wasn’t easy. Padel and sports had always shaped your image, conditioning you to appear tough, stereotypically masculine. But under his gaze, all of that melted away.

You broke eye contact as the staring became too overwhelming for your liking, exceeding your daily dose of attention. You couldn’t just escape him because he was there, and you were working, or something like that. Your breathing hitched, and you involuntarily let out a low gasp at the feeling of his fingers brushing against your skin. His touch was cold, just like your body. The only warmth came from the fire igniting in your cheeks. His fingers hooked around one of your white straps, which had fallen out of place.

God, you wished you could say a word, anything, but you were petrified.

“You look gorgeous.”

“You just say that hoping I’d say yes to another photoshoot. Your guinea pig.” The back-and-forth banter and sarcastic flirting didn’t end, but now you were playing silly enough to avoid any heartfelt compliment. You didn’t like those types of things because you never knew how to react, especially when they came from him. His contagious laughter filled the room and your world turned upside down.

Something always lingered between you two, and it was the expectedly obvious, taking into account the amount of time you spent together—padel mornings or sometimes afternoons, dinner nights if class ended late, and when he actually managed to wake up to his multiple alarms, cycling together. But it was casual because you never knew what could cross a man's mind; spending a whole day together could mean nothing to them, maybe he even saw you in a sisterly way. So you tried to chill, not giving it much importance—because, again, a compliment could mean nothing.

His free hand found its way to your nape, resting his palm there, barely cradling it. You had no choice but to regain eye contact; he had you cornered with his gaze—physically, too. Any cold once brought by the winter weather had vanished. Your skin was hot, almost burning. Oscar's gaze didn’t reflect frenzy or desire; he looked lost, even stunned.

“Let me kiss you, please.” He murmured hopelessly, his words caressing and sweetening your ears in the most shivering way.

“Oscar, professionally is not the best to-” It was just a matter of seconds before he silenced you in the most cliché way possible. His kisses mirrored his personality—timid and shy, as if he were afraid to go too far. Yet, at the same time, they were sweet and innocent, like a first kiss, completely inexperienced.

Something that you clearly weren't used to.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even more close, letting each other feel how you teetered, how you edged by just a kiss. Your consent gave him more confidence, turning the encounter into something deeper, sloppier. His lips parted against yours with more urgency, the hesitation melting away as the two of you let each other get lost in the moment. His breath was uneven, intoxicatingly mixing with yours. The kiss grew needier, desperate, and hungry. The sound of your teeth crashing messily together was secondary as his tongue brushed against your lips, savoring, tasting, before he dared to explore further. The slick warmth, the breathy sounds between kisses, the way his body pressed against yours—it was thrilling in the best way.

“I never really liked padel that much, nor was I good at it. There was no chance of improving. But you know why I kept coming back.” Oscar's smile emerged in the middle of the kiss, his tone playful, hinting that he knew he’d been doing something wrong just for the fun of it. Paying for extra classes just to see your face more than once a week? Genius move.

“Oh, I'm so gonna kill you.” You warned him, still in disbelief, that he’d been such a fool, especially since you would’ve said yes to any date prior if he’d only had the courage. There was no need for this extreme and unnecessary padel. But, still, seeing him struggle was part of your routine—and you enjoyed it. Not wanting to hear any lame excuses, you pulled him in, deciding to stay glued to his lips for a very long time

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Can you write a joe goldberg x reader where they are out at a bar and the reader gets a lil too tipsy and flirty with another guy and joe gets all jealous and it ends with them dry humping and making out against a wall outside the bar??? I love your stuff ohmigod

omg yes absolutely! and thank you so much, you're so sweet <33

Jealousy, Jealousy (Joe Goldberg x gn reader)

Warnings: SMUT, Joe has jealousy issues lol, reader is a little tipsy but they're still sober enough to consent, dry humping, heavy making out (against a wall), slight exhibitionism, hickeys/biting/marking, brief degrading/Joe has a slight humiliation kink here, gender neutral reader so genitalia and the like aren't specified

Five minutes. Five minutes, that's all he'd been gone for, just to come back to see you hanging off the arm of some other man.

Seriously?

Joe scoffed as he glared at you from the corner, watching you place your hand on the mystery guy's chest and whisper something that he could only assume was needlessly provocative into said guy's ear.

That should be him that you were hanging off, him you were whispering in the ear of.

Scowling, he quickly made his way over, not even bothering to apologize to the few people he managed to bump into. "Hey," he greeted in a tense and strained voice, looking like he was about to crack a tooth from how hard he was clenching his jaw.

At first he thought that maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you were too drunk to realize that guy wasn't him, maybe you hadn't even noticed that he'd left, maybe you'd just so happened to cling onto the nearest tall, attractive person with dark hair under the assumption that he was your boyfriend.

Until you glanced over, and he saw the cheeky glint of mischief in your eyes and the shit-eating grin on your face. "Oh, baby, hey," you drawled out slow and lazily, your speech a little slurred from the alcohol that was currently pumping through your system. "Where have you been? I was looking all over for you. I was so worried."

If he'd been a cartoon, his face would've been bright red with anger and steam would've been seen coming out of his ears. "Don't 'hey, baby' me," he snapped while grabbing your arm, not hard enough to hurt you but certainly firm enough to where you couldn't wiggle away from him. "We're leaving, now."

"Aw, but I just made a new friend," you replied with a pronounced pout, giving him your best puppy dog eyes in hopes of winning him over.

But he was having none of it, refusing to even acknowledge the guy as he furiously dragged you away (the guy in question was fortunately smart enough to leave well alone and let you go without protest).

"I'm never taking you out again, do you hear me? Never again," he practically scolded, his long legs moving almost too fast for you to keep up with.

"But baby-" you loudly began your complaint before he grabbed you by the collar. You felt the breath get knocked out of you as he roughly pushed you up against the wall of a nearby alleyway outside the bar.

"Enough," he snapped harshly, his eyes full of pure envy as he glared at you. The sexual frustration he was fighting with was so strong you could practically feel it pressing against you. Or maybe that was just his hard-on in his jeans. "What have I told you about flirting with other guys, huh? What did I say?"

Huffing, you averted your gaze from him, well aware of the answer he was looking for. "Not to," you grumbled with a childish pout, not enjoying the way he was currently reprimanding you. "But it's not my fault you left me all alone in there."

"I had to use the bathroom," he hissed out through gritted teeth, his patience starting to run thin. "That doesn't give you the excuse to go cozy up to some other guy like I don't even exist."

"Aw, baby, you know I didn't mean to," you purred out in that sultry tone you always knew worked on him, one of your hands slipping down to fiddle with the hem of his pants as you spoke. "I just missed you, y'know? I was lonely and needed something to help me pass the time. I'd never actually cheat on you with someone else, you know that."

As much as he hated to admit it, the charm you were trying to win him over with was working. "Come on, don't try to seduce me when I'm mad," he muttered half-heartedly as your fingers slipped through the belt loops of his pants and used them to tug him in closer, his hips pressing flush against yours.

The corners of your lips curled upwards into a smug smirk when you realized your plan was working. "I missed you so much while you were gone," you continued in a pathetic sounding tone, your hands letting go of his pants so you could wrap your arms around his neck instead.

The growl he let out sounded heavenly, like music to your ears. He trapped you up against the wall of the alleyway while his hands moved to grab onto your hips. "Don't tease me," he warned in a low voice, but you simply snickered in response.

"Make me," you whispered back, and that was all it took for the floodgates to open up and all of his self-control to crumble as his lips met yours in a passionate embrace of teeth and tongue.

"You can be such a brat sometimes," he mumbled into your mouth, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip after. He could tell just from the look on your face how much you were enjoying yourself.

"Only with you." Those three little words caused his grip on you to tighten as he jolted his hips into yours, relishing at the sudden feeling of friction between you.

There was no possible way for his cock to get any harder, but somehow it did. "Say- say that again," he demanded in a soft and breathy voice as he leaned his forehead against yours. "Say that you're only like this with me, that you only do this stuff for me."

You knew exactly what he wanted, of course. He wanted validation, he needed it, even. It was something he was so helplessly desperate for. He needed you to reassure him that there would be no other guys, not now or ever, that he was the only one. And with the pitiful way he was staring at you, how could you ever refuse?

"Only for you, Joe. You know I only have eyes for you, babe," you murmured before grabbing the collar of his coat and tugging his lips back to yours in another passionate kiss, one that was even more intense than the last.

He couldn't help but start to grind against you, acting like a dog in heat with the way he was dry humping you right up against the wall of some random alleyway where anyone could look down and see you. At that point, he didn't care who saw. He just knew that he needed you, and he intended on having you, one way or the other.

You, on the other hand, were delighted and even giddy at his eagerness. Normally you'd be a bit more hesitant to have your boyfriend get so handsy with you in a semi-public place, but the alcohol running through your veins gave you just enough of the liquid courage needed in order to successfully banish those fears away and replace them entirely with the overwhelming experience of lust you always had for him whenever he became possessive like that.

The whimpers and pants that exited his mouth uncontrollably were just the cherry on top, the previous look of rage at having another guy touch you being completely overtaken by his primal urge to take you and make you his. You let out a noise that was a cross between a moan and a sigh when you felt his lips meet your neck, biting and sucking at the area in an attempt to mark you, to claim you as his and his alone.

The pace of his hips was unrelenting as he kept you pinned to the wall, the feeling of his boner rubbing against you through the fabric of your pants making you just as crazy as he was. "God, you're such a fucking slut for me, Joe," you commented mindlessly as your fingers curled through his hair, directing his mouth to a lower spot on your neck in the process.

Your words didn't seem to upset him, and if anything only happened to turn him on even more. He buried his face further into your neck while gripping onto your hips so tightly you were certain he'd leave marks behind, his movements in tandem with yours as you'd started to thrust upwards in an attempt to match his speed.

When he finally came, he bit his lip so hard he almost drew blood, trying his best to muffle the humiliating sounds that were doing their best to creep out and escape from him. You finished soon after, your body tensing up and going limp from the amount of energy you had drained from you.

"Second round at home?" You questioned once you were able to catch your breath, to which he merely letting out a short laugh and pulled your body closer to his.

"As long as you promise to never flirt with another guy again," he bargained in turn, just as exhausted as you were even if he was also itching for more.

He was so naive for thinking that would be the one and only time you'd ever purposely flirt with somebody else. With the kind of reaction you'd managed to gain from him, this was only the beginning. It was decided: you'd have to make him jealous more often.

End notes: I love writing smutty joe fics omg

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | You masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @missmewts @ghot-girl @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @theonetruepotato87 @caplanreblogsfics @samcvrpenters

[pinkiemachine]

What are some timsteph headcanons you have? And what couples or ships u like outside of dc remind u of them?

That she’s really clingy and her love language is physical touch. Like, she’s always coming to him wanting a hug, or to hold his arm, or snuggle up next to him, just burry her face in his hoodie… but she can be a bit oblivious about the fact that she can be a biiiiit… intrusive at times. If Tim is busy with something, she might not recognise it and just come on in, trying to talk to him, and then Tim gets frustrated that she’s not reading the room, and has to remind her that sometimes he has things to do and can’t get distracted. She usually makes up for it by doing something nice for him later when he has more free time.

Tim can be a bit oblivious about her emotions sometimes, so every now and then he makes an oopsie in the form of accidentally neglecting her emotional needs—usually by working on a case too long and not realising she needs time with him—and then has to go make up for it. His love language is personal time, and he just enjoys being in the same room as Steph. They don’t even have to be doing anything, just cuddling on the couch is enough. Or sitting in the Batcave on their phones. Talking late into the night.

She definitely loves the fact that her bf is loaded with cash and Tim loves to spoil her. Not in overly fancy dinners to french restaurants or Louis Vuittons, but in trips to places she’s never been before, going on hikes through the Italian countryside, bungie jumping in New Zealand, or boating on the Nile.

They both geek out, but over different things and in slightly different ways, and they happily listen to the other ramble on about the thing they’re excited about currently. For Tim it’s usually some random information rabbit hole he’s stumbled down—like the history of Roman gladiator food, or medieval cutlery. For Steph it can be literally anything. A cute dog she found that she wants to adopt, why do superheroes wear the undies on the outside of their uniforms? Damascus steel forging, a new TikTok trend, a new tv show she’s just gotten into, interior home renovation and DIY stuff, knitting… waffles…

Tim struggles with depression. It’s not surprising. A study done once showed that intelligent people are often more likely to be depressed (perhaps there’s something to being “blissfully ignorant”) but in Tim’s case, there’s also the trauma of having to go through everything he’s gone through as a vigilante. Because of his depression, it can make it difficult to find the will to want to hang out with people, or go do things outside of work. That’s where Steph comes in. She’s hurt too, but remains stubbornly optimistic. She’s able to talk with Tim about things they can’t talk about with anyone else, and she helps him get out and do things, talk to people, see the sun every once in a while. She is his sunshine. Literally. She makes him happy. And for Steph, she can sometimes have a hard time living in reality. Because of her trauma, she tends to fall into escapism to cope. She can day dream for hours if left to her own devices, and often romanticises things or doesn’t take them seriously. That’s where Tim comes in. When she’s getting too carried away or not acknowledging a situation like she should, he brings her back down to ground level and helps her through it. Facing reality is easier with him, she’s found out. ❤️💜

[richeeduvie]

✭ UNDOING ✭

PART ONE? // The Sickness That is a Daughter

AN ARCANE FIC: JINX AND SILCO (featuring a Sevika who's actually soft for a hot minute??)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

WORD COUNT: 6.8K

Powder gets very sick, but not sick enough to believe she can't help with every little thing. In his frustrated attempts to convince his ward otherwise, he scares her. Sometimes, the idea that Silco only wants Zaun's respect feels like a fantasy, a lie so tasteful that he almost forgets he likes to be feared.

But not in that moment. Never with her.

(Based on the headcanon that Silco only started to wear makeup to not scare Jinx when she was little Powder. Sorry blog regulars had to pop this one out...probably not gonna write more Arcane stuff but I HAD this idea and I needed to GET IT OUT I'M SORRY LALO AND ROMAN LOVERS…tell me what y’all think tho)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

Silco never put much thought into how little Powder would feel about his face. At this point in life, people either ignore it or fear him because of it. Sometimes it's a neutral, sometimes an advantage. He makes do with what Vander gave him. The girl only questioned it once, a couple days after he took her in all those months ago. It'll be...

A year and some already. And how he's weakened so readily. There is no guilt in the way Silco came to accept his feelings for her. His child that has so much fire, sometimes he's so desperate to nurture it, but other times, he just wants to watch it burn. It's alright. He'll never go anywhere.

"...What's with the eye?"

He took it as a moment to be cheeky. It wasn't his first day on earth, he remembers what children become comfortable with. It was just...he didn't know why it came easy, the desire to see her, Powder Blue, almost-daughter of brother betrayal, comfortable with him. But it's how he ended up where he is now. An almost father.

He's not going to deny it for the sake of ego. Like his deepening care for Powder, it's not beneficial for him.

If you are to not consider the blooming of his flamed heart and angry, coiling bones beneficial.

"I fell on my cigar."

Silco played it seriously. Powder stared before she giggled. Her knobby arms splayed out on the table as she rested her chin there.

"Come on, I'm not stupid. No WAY you fell on your cigar. Your eye would stink like shit!"

His lips flattened into the first smile he ever gave her.

"Language."

Silco was already natural in his discipline (although with every downward tilt of Powder's head, he finds every consequence for her actions slipping away), even when the corners of himself flashed Vander over him - through the water, holding him down and down and down. And he didn't feel the need to tell Powder the truth about what happened to him, to hurt Vander's blue-haired...scrawny extension. Looking at her toothy smile meant not even a thought of hurting her like that.

Is this what being a parent is? Having someone you never want hurt in a world of fatal things? Why would he do this to himself? Why doesn't he end up claiming it's so he can hone in on her growing, literally explosive talents? Why is it so obvious that it's growing into a braided bond that's noosed around his neck. He'll accept the hanging.

But now...now she's hurt. Sick, at least. In this moment, with the way he's feeling watching Powder tiny in the bed, sweating -- confused, he almost regrets taking her in at all.

How could he choose to feel like he's going to rot and burn all at once at the first, first sight of her in pain? It feels like his own sickness. Who'd choose to feel like death with your body still upright?

Fathers. Even if Silco doesn't think the word yet.

"Powder, where does it hurt the most?"

Silco doesn't blink as Powder turns her body on her side, somehow curled and stretched all at once. Her little, round and bug-eyed - a face he's become familiar with, twists. The familiarity makes a difference with how he wants this over now. He thinks, at least.

"Everywhere."

"Everywhere. All alright. I suppose we'll work with that. When did you start feeling like this, how long was it before you came into my room and told me you weren't feeling well?"

Powder blinks hard, but up at the ceiling instead of Silco. "I was...my throat was sore in the morning, I thought it was gonna go away. It always used to go away when they could find things to make soup. But then I started to get sweaty...even though its cold. Why is it cold? I wanna pull my hair out."

"Your hair is fine where it is. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Why did you wait until you were at your absolute worst to crawl into my bed and make me feel like death is coming onto me instead?

Silco noticed that this morning, or yesterday's morning, the way there was no natural cheekiness or child-like intensity, a searing fire that is Powder. What a terrible thing that is. The years will come to pass and the man wonders if she can twist all the things that she is, all the things that will happen to her into something of normalcy. He doesn't think that ideal, they're - she, they're fine as is.

"I told you, I thought it was gonna go bye-bye, like how everything goes away."

Powder sniffles. Silco does not move for a dragging moment, just until he reaches out his thin, cold palm to press to her forehead.

She's burning from the inside.

"Not everything, little girl."

Powder mms. Is it a whine of pain, or a whine of annoyance at the idea she's being corrected? Silco wouldn't know at this point. Maybe one day, when the whole of her grows into something fiery, invasive, jerking, something so insanely nerved, and something he'll always want to take care of to the point where Sevika will see it pointless to mention how much of a problem the girl is.

Silco sighs, eyes closed, ears pierced at the sound of Powder's pained whimpers.

"We'll find you a doctor."

"...A what?"

Silco opens his eyes, head tilting. What? "A doctor, Powder. Because you cannot go five minutes without throwing up, and I'm afraid you'll sweat off a pound you can't afford to lose."

"I don't know what that is. I don't want one."

That's when the man runs his thumb over the sweat of her forehead, wading in the thought that...this - is this really the world the children of Zaun grow up in? He knows it's a hell he's trying to maintain, trying to change for the better, for all of them - so he very much knows that its people aren't going to have the best access to easy, decent health, but he wouldn't have thought it so far that Powder and others wouldn't know what a doctor is.

Unfortunately, he hopes it's her sickly delirium, making her believe she doesn't know what a doctor is. But if not, this is why he's doing what he does, so Zaun can thrive.

Powder coughs. It's nearly manic, all in her throat. Silco kisses her forehead. He doesn't know what else to do because he's not a doctor and might as well have taken his injector and placed it over his heart with the way he's feeling at the sight of her right now.

"We'll make you soup."

It'll be nothing, he won't put Powder in a life where she has to hope that her guardians are able to find things to heal her. That's not a life this wild thing deserves.

Powder coughs again, it's heavy.

"And you'll see a doctor. Or, a doctor will see you. They can only make you feel better. Unless you try to bite them like you did Sevika when she came to check on you, then they'll put you down."

A false meanness that can only bring her smile, or at the very least, a whine without pain.

Powder jolts upright.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT???"

Silco shushes, it feels like a smile on his tongue.

"I'm fooling you, little girl. But I'm not going to beg you to behave nicely once they come."

"I'll pull their hair out if I can't pull out mine. And don't ever lie again."

Powder's not teasing, it's an order for Silco. And he understands, being lied to is the worst feeling - next to what his heart wears now.

He wouldn't underestimate the child as if she couldn't. Or wouldn't.

"Alright, I'll remind them and myself to be on our best behavior."

Powder, limbs mangled and sickly face hardened, simply ploofs right back into the bed, coughing again. She nuzzles her head into Silco's pillows. It's only him observing how she's coating his bed with her sickness. He's not angry or frustrated, he accepts it like he accepts the noose.

"I'm sleeping here tonight."

Silco can't place the exact moment when his ward stopped asking for things and started to take them. He's just aware he's never put much effort into stopping her.

"Am I allowed to say no?"

"No."

He already knew that. Powder didn't ask to sleep in his bed when she crawled into it a few hours ago, he had to realize there was a tiny body tossing and turning in his bed at the sound of terrible coughs and snotty sniffles. Silco wasn't dreaming, so it wasn't as if she was a bother anyway, but since she's grow into his home and life, Powder has found the habit of sleeping at his side when she feels like it.

It crosses a boundary he didn't know was there, but with her nightmares, the bug-eyed little face that walks in against the Zaun's night light...Silco can't deny her.

"You already know how to wear an aura of impose, hm?"

"Of course I do. You should know that already, silly. Don't be silly."

Powder's voice goes high, still child-like in its scratchiness. Silco wears a genuine smile that, although small, is one he can't afford.

"I'll be whatever I want to be and you'll be just fine by tomorrow, or the next day."

If Janna wants peace in this world, Powder will be healthy very soon. Silco will come to hurt the things in front of him, against logic, against morals if it means he can release the pit of what he feels looking at his sick child. But he's not in the wrong.

That's only if she doesn't get better. And she will.

"Don't be silly, silly, silly-"

Powder hacks, Silco smile drops. The way she's spilling her words, there's nothing intentional about it. There isn't the intensity that grows with her in weight and height, it's just...sickness. Sickness growing with every droplet of sweat and clammy glance at him.

"Silly. I'm not silly either-"

"One of our people has been feeding our information to enforcers."

He would've known Sevika was coming down the hall a mile away if it were any other night. He only turns his head, hand resting on Powder's ankle.

"What?"

"Everything went as planned...except for the fact there were about two dozens of those fuckers swarming where the trade was supposed to take place. Your paying customer was trapped, it was hell trying to get to him and fuck, I think he was holding his breath the entire time."

Silco looks to the wall. He feels a tiny but harsh squeeze to his hand on his knee. Sevika stands straight, hand ready to point and fist in her incoming ramble.

"You said Piltover's goons would be one less thing to deal with in terms of trading and building all of this now that we have Marcus's dick choked. I believe it, but there is no possible way that what I had to deal with today was a result of the topside's peachy genius investigation techniques. They had to have gotten a tip, I don't think Marcus has the balls to go against you for the sake of his morals yet."

Silco doesn't make a movement, something natural in an attempt to not reveal what he's thinking.

But he squeezes the tiny, clammy hand over his.

"You sound right. So be right. You'll find out who it is and bring them to me, and you'll get your due for today."

There is a sudden boiling of rage at the idea someone is betraying him. Again, only this time, it'll be so much easier to bring whoever the rat is to justice. So, he won't put so much of his feeling, said rat doesn't deserve his anger. He won't rage in front of Powder.

"We need your...recognizable personality. Some locals took advantage of the situation and stole twenty cases of Shimmer."

"Are you-" Silco stifles his own words. Still, the ability to control his anger in situations like this for Powder hasn't come naturally just yet. "Twenty? The enforcers were the problem. The rat is the problem, but also the fact you can't stop addict gutter trash from thieving our supply?"

"Not gutter trash, Silco. A mid-level gang, you could almost call them an organization."

"Who are you calling gutter trash-"

"Powder, rest."

Sevika shrugs harshly, she might as well act like a child herself and roll her eyes.

"...I'm not calling them gutter trash, that's the whole damn point, kid-"

"She's sick, Sevika."

"Yeah, no shit. She's sicker than before. Her immune system has made her even more of a problem for you, who knew-"

Silco stands. His movement is a as quick as an impulse and his fist is as tight as the way Powder held him the day he found her.

"Sevika, do you forget yourself? When did it become so easy for you to allow yourself excuses. An organization? Oh my. What are we to do but...oh, b-but shiver and crawl into our favorite hiding spaces?" He rolls his shoulders. "Will you continue to lessen your failures by blowing up the egos of our competitors? Or will you do your job and burn them in flame and duty to get back what our networking customers have paid us?"

Sevika stares. Her silence means Silco's harsh, teething words were successful. Productive. As the way of a boss. Her hand drops.

"That's why I need you. You don't think bloodshed was my first thought? It's easy, it gets the job done, but yeah...they're an organization. We get the Shimmer back with blood on our hands and we have the issue of their surviving crew coming after us."

The woman, brown-skinned and harsh-eyed, takes a step or two closer. Silco does not miss the way her sights flicker behind him at Powder's coughing.

No, not coughing.

Rasping. Rattling.

Silco turns to Powder in the bed, sitting back down as quickly as he stood up. His palm engulfs the skin of her cheek.

"Powder, breathe. Cough and breathe. What is wrong?"

"...My throat," The little blue one blinks hard, as if her vision isn't quite there when she doesn't. "My lungs are being silly."

She giggles herself into more rasping. Silco's mouth parts, worry flared at the nose and in the way his usually slicked-back hair falls over. Of course, he doesn't have it gelled in bed. Powder likes to pull on it sometimes when she has sleepy questions concerning dreams or memories. Things that frustrate him in the night, things that are answered with "Why don't you go to bed and figure it out yourself?"

But Silco wants to strangle the feeling at the pit of his chest, the feeling -- the need to make sure she doesn't fall asleep. Why would he not want to her to rest when she's like this?

That's only if something this sickly would make sure she doesn't wake up again, and the thought eats away at me, as if she isn't just a girl I took in only a year ago, my life would go back to what it was before.

"Powder. How about you look at me, hm? What's wrong? Will you tell Silco what's wrong? Powder."

No. No, it wouldn't.

"...We don't have the image or the name right now. You know that, you know we can't just kill whoever we want and expect Zaun to fear to the point of submission. We need time for that. We need to play the waiting game. You go into their spot, make a deal of long-term trading for the twenty cases. They'll see that's a better investment than twenty cases now. We play the submissive for now, and then...we burn them. We burn them when your name grows with whatever empire you fantasize about."

Whatever Sevika's saying, suggesting - Silco knows she's right. It's why she's his number one in his mission, his dream for Zaun. But her plan isn't colored right in his head, it's washed out by the little one. He feels no guilt or frustration over it.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Fine. But not tonight."

He can feel Sevika's eyes widen and body shrug up in her own frustration.

"Not tonight? They could scab all the supply by tomorrow!"

"It doesn't matter how many cases we get back, does it?" It's venom on the man's tongue. He won't regret it later. "We'll be selling it back to them in your plan of long-term tradings and dealings. So yes. Not tonight. Sniff out the rat and go. Before I change my mind just to punish your failings of today."

Silco press the back of his palm to Powder's cheek and forehead. If she was a fire just ten minutes ago, there's a hell inside her now.

She whimpers. He shushes.

"When I tell you she's becoming a problem, half of the time, I don't mean that as an insult to her. And you know that."

Silco does, but he won't admit it to the one-armed woman who does mean it as an insult to Powder the other half of the time.

"If her fever's so high to the point where she can't understand what's being said around her, then we should've gotten a doctor hours ago. But you can let her rest. She's not going to die within the three hours you're gone-"

"Sevika. Do not assume what I'm thinking. It isn't smart. Nor needed."

"I can help."

Somehow - and suddenly, Powder's sitting up. She almost falls over, she would've if Silco didn't hold her by the shoulders. He squeezes them, head coming lower.

She can barely hold her own head up, let alone her whole body.

"We can all go. We don't have to wait for a millionnnn years, Sevika. That's stupid. And I do know what's being talked around me. I know because I can tell you that we can just make em' go.....boom."

He didn't think he'd have to deal with Powder's need to be needed tonight. The vomit, the rotting fear, and the coil of seeing her sick, something going wrong with the deal? Yes, he could handle and assume all those things would be things to deal with, but the little girl's so sick that Silco didn't possibly think she'd manage to bring up her extreme desire to be useful, to have anything to do if it means her guardian trusts her.

He doesn't know when he noticed Powder's need to be needed, but it's trickled into the business end of his life. Always the little girl asking for him to bring her bombs along just in case they're needed, and she's always hoping things get dire enough that they will be.

Maybe his feelings will change later on, but there's nothing much he feels comfortable with having her do. To pick her satisfaction over her safety is something Silco has done on more one occasion, but not tonight.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Powder, you have to rest for when the doctor comes. And what has happened tonight...one day,"

It feels natural, need to lower his head more and press his forehead against hers. Blue against black.

"One day, you'll set every fire that is needed. But not tonight. That doesn't mean your work is put to waste...but you need to rest."

"...No. I can go. I can bring the bombs I showed you, I can-"

"No. You can't. I think you're aware of that, child-"

Even though she's a sickly sixty-pounder, Silco finds it difficult to hold her down by the shoulders when she fights against him.

"No! I can help, I promise! Do you think I'm gonna-I'm gonna ruin everything?!"

"No, Powder. I don't doubt that you can be of use, but you're sick, and we're not going tonight anyhow."

His convincing feels genuine, it feels like a second talent, but Powder doesn't take. She squirms - Silco's nearly thankful Sevika doesn't take this moment to mutter or sigh, his frustration boils with every weak fist his child throws at him.

"You're lying! You think I'm gonna ruin everything!"

"I never said that, who's the liar now? Is it still me? You-"

He exhales low when trying to put her down into the bed. "You need rest. You know everything hurts, you know you can barely get out of my bed. You're not stupid, Powder, so stop pretending you are."

"You're only not going tonight because of me! I'm already ruining it! I don't want to! I promise I don't! I can stop being sick-"

She's right about why Silco has no thought of leaving tonight. Sevika might agree with the child for the first time since she's taken home here.

"Powder. Enough."

Her head jolts suddenly, off to side...as if something on the bed has interrupted her breaking tantrum. It happens sometimes, she'll be talking to him, it's a conversation that's not turning to be an enjoyable one, and then...she'll be looking past him, or behind herself - like someone's shouting her name, as if she can see ghosts.

Who doesn't? But if Silco were to turn back to see whatever Powder's looking at, he always thinks he'll see a monster of hell himself. That's how real Powder's tension comes to when she's like this.

"Shut up! Shut up! I know I am! I'm trying not to! That's why I want to go! Aren't you listening to me?!"

She breaks free from Silco's grasp, pushing her body back into the headboard. It sounds harsh. All so harsh and pained for a girl who shouldn't even be sitting upright.

What she's never done when she's like this is talk. Silco doesn't think she's screaming at him.

"Go away! Get away from us!"

This girl is so much more than he could imagine. It's the worst thing. The best thing. He'll see. It doesn't matter anyhow.

But here, it's the worst. It's Powder terrified and rageful at whatever's colored the room, whatever she can only see. He can admit it. He doesn't have the faintest idea of what to do. But he needs to see her stop screaming, stop acting like she's in pain.

His heart can't handle it.

"You know what? I'll call a doctor."

Sevika's off in quick, heavy footsteps. Silco runs his hand through his hair, standing up and over Powder.

"Powder. That's enough. Whatever you're hearing, ignore it. You need rest, it's no use..." He couldn't know now. He'll have to learn, and still, he won't regret this. This girl, even if her insecurities kill him with a heartbreak he would have never had in his lifetime. "Arguing with them. It's pointless."

"Just take me with you! Please." Powder puts her hand over hear ears. "Or at least my bombs? Please!"

"No. I told you. I'm not going. That is final. And do not make this about you and your false ideas of destruction. I choose to stay. You are my responsibility. That is not a fault. It is a fact. I get to decide what I prioritize. Not Sevika. Not you. Do you understand?"

Tears fall from her grey bug eyes. It's only his frustration that allows Silco to not turn into a pond at the sight. He stands tall.

The order gets the girl to look at him, it feels like a stand-off. Not just between him and her.

And she's lost when she flinches, eyes squeezing shut with all the frustration her little body can hold.

"SHUT UP! THEY'RE SAYING YOU'RE LYING! THAT YOU'RE A LIA-"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

Silco, in the piercing silence, doesn't realize how close he's gotten to Powder's face in his shout. Their noses nearly touch.

Her eyes are open, only to flinch again when she stare back into his. It's not the air she's yelled into. It's him, it's all him.

He's sure of it when Powder attempts to look him in the eyes - the eye again, only to whimper and turn away, like something horrible will happen if she's to stare at it for too long.

It's a fatal whimper, a fatal avoidance of him and the eye, the monstrosity he's come to embrace at his iris, at his soul...it's fatal. It kills whatever strength he had to distance himself from her.

It's fatal to his strength in general. He's hurt. Janna forbid, Janna who hates his soul so, he's hurt at her fear.

"Powder. Look at me."

There was a point after Vander's betrayal, after his recovery that Silco couldn't dare to look at a mirror. He despised what his brother in arms turned his face into, but no...in a way, he can thank the false friend for what he did. The breaking and poisoning of his eye only revealed what Silco was underneath.

A body to be imposing. Feared. Respected. All for the man who wanted to see Zaun freed from Piltover. But for the first time since, Silco can't handle the thought of being seen a monster.

Not with his little one.

It's grating, the growing panic at the way she won't look at him.

"Will you look at the man who wants to give you everything?"

It's the first time he's admitted it by word and not just by thought. He gets down on one knee, inhaling sharp when Powder flinches under his hand touching her shoulder.

She lies flat on the bed, turning over. They sit in the heavy silence for a bit. Silco, smooth in word as he is, can't do much but curse his panic and hurt.

"I want to give you everything. Will you let me, Powder? Will you let the old man give you everything you want?"

She wants to be needed. Trusted. He'll find a way, not knowing that he's never had the same desire - except with her.

"...A doc's coming. One of the...medicinal kind, if you understand what I'm saying."

Silco closes his eyes when he hears the rasping grow from Powder again.

"Did you hear Sevika? Someone's coming to make sure you feel better. You'll feel better, and you'll stop scaring me so, hm? We'll stop scaring each other."

He sighs when the only response is more rasping, his forehead falls against her back. Her shirt is cold with sweat.

The three of them fail to move until Silco half-heartedly decides it's time to fall away from the girl after a waiting minute or so, give her some time alone before the doctor comes. But it's possible she won't be alone, he doesn't know how to fix that. Except to be the real thing in the room with her.

"Those types of healers, they're vials are expensive."

Silco stands and turns to Sevika, already at the doorway with his arms very, very slightly bend at his sides. "That concerns me how?"

"Kids get sick. It's not the end of the world, she might be better by tomorrow if you knock her out right now."

Silco will not accept the word might when it comes to Powder. Never.

"You can go, if you want."

He puts his hands behind his back. Sevika's brow furrows.

"What?"

"You don't need me, only my word. If you want to be fun with it, play it as if you're going behind my back. I'm sure growing drug empires that happen to be made of gutter trash don't appreciate loyalty as much as I do."

Silco leaves her there, no care the woman's in his personal chambers. He needs to be sure the girl will never come to fear him again, because what happened tonight can never happen again.

There's not enough people in his path to bury the rage in if it does.

For now, it's a wall when he turns the corner. He can't know Sevika keeps herself watching Powder's rattling body curled on his bed.

She sighs, walking over. She could know how the tiny, blue-haired soul of sickness and pale-born tragedy blinks in confusion. She knows the weight creaking on the bed isn't Silco's.

"I know what it's like to be a daughter, kid. Most women do. Sometimes...sometimes daughters are problems. You can't beat it. And it doesn't mean anything to the people who love you most of the time. You'll see." Sevika leans forward, elbows on her knees. "What I'll have to deal with that man in the years to come if he doesn't make the right decision of booting you out of our lives is what you'll see so clearly. You'll be so fucking happy. Peached. Watch."

Sevika looks down. Because fathers never make the right decision. They never care about the problem that is a child that latches onto you and pulls down into the water until your lungs drown. They don't even think to regret it when it becomes their end.

It'd be beautiful if it wasn't so stupid.

"I hope when you get better, you make it so you're less of a problem for me. Hopefully, all this sickness is making you feel for a more grateful approach to what you have."

Sevika gets up, bed creaking under her again.

"You better not tell Silco I sat on his bed."

She leaves in silence, both in lack of word and thought. Powder curls.

"I will."

✭・.・✫ ✭・.・✫ ✭・.・✫ ✭・.・

Silco sits in his chair, holding up the compact. He can't remember the last time he cared to use this. He stares into the orange flame of his eye, blinking at the mirror.

There's no embarrassment when powdering on the foundation. He simply covers the rot of his eyelid and cheek. If this is what it takes for Powder to not be afraid of him, then so be it. It doesn't even matter if it was only because the situation was a cocktail of anger and already well-born fear. He won't take the chance.

Silco can't waste his time remembering when he'd be so strong to have never cared in the first place. He can't trust little Powder to stay strong at the sight of his scar, but he can let her know he is to be trusted. Always.

He patters it along the skin until it almost looks like...the face of an approachable man. Huh.

"Ta-da."

There's no tone but a lack there of in his voice. He stands up, taking his injector out of his pocket and into the hall.

The doctor, the healer said Powder was infected with a quick-acting virus, nothing too dangerous as long as the needed medicine is regularly given over the course of a few days. Silco didn't take it with smiles and praise. No, not when the little one was out of it for the entire check-up. He trusted the doctor to be right, but it didn't change the fact that seeing her so ill meant a loss of logic on his head and heart.

Silco, on his way to his room, stops at the doorway of Powder's. It's a moment that sits with him.

He opens the door, looking at the colored, messy space that is hers. It's decorated with drawings (the walls and papers all over the floor). There's no chance Vander ever thought to teach her to make a bed. Silco's not sure he could get her to learn now.

But the bombs strewn about the floor are what truly belongs to the girl's mind. With every passing day and chance he takes on her, Silco can see the fire of her brain, what destruction she's able to take on with every creation.

"You, you, you, little girl."

It's a prize. Her mind is prize. There is even no even when it comes to Powder and her mind, there is not fault he can accept with a "despite". No, it's just her that he'll watch grow into something bigger than what he could know now.

He picks up one of her bombs, studies it in the light of Zaun. The room's getting cramped, he'll have to find her a space for her toys.

The one he's picked up is pink, butterflies and monkeys doodled all over what could kill an entire building of people with a pull of its string. What's under his shoe is a drawing.

Of him. Or he thinks. It's obvious her true talent lies in her explosives. But it's a man suited in red and black, one eye bright with orange and hair pushed back.

Silco does not smile, he just picks the drawing up. He folds it into his pocket. He leaves Powder's room, her bomb in one hand and the injector in the other.

"Janna! Silco, sorry."

Sevika's always in a hurry, she's nearly slammed into him on his way out into the hall.

"Gonna get rid of the kid with her own stuff? I never mentioned to be that cruel-"

"I tell you. Do not forget yourself." The woman stills, licking her lips. It's defeat on her face. "You are going?"

"Yeah. I'm going. And I thought about your jab. It works. If I pretend this is me going behind your back, they might feel inclined to not pull this shit again when their dealings gotta be dealt under your nose."

Silco smirks, although half of his face can't give into his knowing amusement. "That is a benefit. Yes. But there's been a change of plans." He hands Sevika the bomb. "You'll play for a moment or two, let them think they're on top. Everyone deserves something like that before they're blown into mist."

Sevika's head jolts in a tilt.

"Wait. No. That's not what we agreed. That goes against everything about what we planned-"

"What you came up with. And it was the best idea of the hour. But I thought on it...you want the name, Sevika? You'd like our image seared into the minds of our enemies, present and eventual?"

Silco closes her palm over Powder's creation.

"You give them a show."

The woman can't bear to look at him. Silco can't bear to care. "We don't need to play waiting games when we have ticking time bombs. Any Zaunite organization with half a brain won't think to do us misjustice after it's shown we’ll blow any wrongdoers to pieces. And if they do end up at the door with all those misjustices...see the previous statement."

Silco's off to his room, there's no argument to be lost on him there. His hand tightens over his injector when he reaches the door.

He does understand wanted to be needed to certain extents. Zaun did not ask for him specifically in their quest for freedom, he put himself in the role of a revolutionary because he had to.

His understanding, his need to see Powder happy is why he turns the injection device over in his hand as he pushes the door open.

He creeps into his own bed, careful not to wake the girl with a bounce and tumble out of it. He leans up against the headboard, hands on his lap with his legs straightened out in his sitting up.

He looks to the sleeping child beside him.

"Powder. I have something for you to do for me."

Silco's aware he's stated that she should be asleep. But assuming a restless little girl is awake instead of off in a dream is the smart thing.

"M' not Powder."

"No? Who are you then?"

Powder, or apparently not-Powder, rolls her head. Maybe she's sleeptalking through her dreams, actually.

"M' a...Jinx. M' Jinx. No Powder."

Silco's head leans back, eyes still on her. "Ah, I see. Or...we'll see about that. Jinx or Powder, I have something for you." He watches her turns over, eyes close, palms rested into a gentle fist.

"Sevika sat on your bed."

Most definitely sleeptalking a dream. He taps her nose. Her eyes blink open. For the sake of his heart, he'll ignore the drying tears.

"Would you like to help me with my eye?"

Powder blinks again, this time in confusion. "Your eye? It looks..."

The man lets head tilt down at her. "It looks what?"

Cleaner.

Powder sits up. "Nothing. I don' know. What about your eye?"

"You've seen me with this before, yes?" Silco gestures to his injector. She nods. "This is what I use to put medicine into my eye. I need it to lessen the pain. I can do it, but lately I've been struggling. These types of device require steady hands, accurate hands. Would you like to do it for me? For tonight?"

He nearly regrets this whole ordeal when Powder jumps up as if her lungs weren't rattling away a hour ago.

"Powder! Calm yourself, this is not what you do to get you better. Do you remember what the doctor said-"

Powder snatches the injector from Silco, studying it over above her head. "Duh! I can help-" She begins to hack.

Maybe this should've been saved for the morning, just like how he won't tell her about the use of her bomb until then. When she can fully take in the praise and pride of the moment.

"Powder. Breathe. This can wait til tomorro-"

"NO!"

Powder sniffles after her short but powered cry, like even she understand that was an intensity she shouldn't have allowed herself.

"I can do it now and then we can go to bed."

We. Silco's lips thin like he'll smile.

"Alright. Come closer, follow my instructions."

She does, her knees press into his thigh. When he's guiding her tiny, still clammy hand over his eye socket, Silco realizes it isn't the brightest idea to give a small child a needle to inject into his literal eyeball.

But it'll be her satisfaction over his safety now, he supposes.

"You place it right here, just let it rest for a bit. And then you'll push this." The man puts Powder's other hand over the end of the injector. "It works as a syringe, if you've ever seen one."

"I used to find them on the street all the time! Vander almost knocked out when I stepped on one and started to feel funky. Turned out it was just something called a coincidence. It was just dinner from the night before."

Huh. Her mentions of Vander have lessened, but not died not. Silco doesn't know how to feel about that.

"You have a habit of making your guardians take care of your terrible illnessness?"

But he will not deny her the mention at this time.

Powder shrugs.

"I guess. Now. Do I push in?"

Silco prepares himself, breathing in. "When you're ready-"

And maybe the girl's never not ready, because she just needled his eye with no hesitation, but it was precise. Silco grips the sheets as the shimmer bleeds into him. He won't scare Powder in his rage or in his pain. He does not grunt or groan.

After the pain subsides, Silco looks to Powder staring up at him. Waiting. Nervous. Sitting on her calves.

"...Did I do good?"

"You did very well. You're a natural."

He goes to grab his injector from the girl, but she pulls it to her chest. She ploofs on the bed, eyes already closing.

"Goodnight, Silco."

Silco blinks. He didn't think to make it a patterned thing for her, just tonight - to make her feel better after his slew of mistakes and whatever her head put her through.

"I'll need that back at some point."

"No."

Powder doesn't even shift. Silco sighs.

If Sevika wants to go on about problems with Powder, this is the only one, cause he will need it back at some point and the idea to deny her this isn't a strong one.

"There will be days where you won't be able to do it. Nothing wrong with that, but I don't expect you to do it everyday."

"I don't think so. Goodnight."

Her hand tighten around the injector. As tiny as they are, Silco doesn't think he'd be able to take them from her if he tried.

He sighs, putting the deep-red blanket over her.

He kisses the blue of her hair.

"Goodnight, Powder."

Silco goes to lie beside her, a sleep falling on him so quickly and he won't know that's the exhaust of being a father.

He won't know the closed-eyed smile his little one gives besides him, as smirked as his few can be.

[comically-callous]

Ok you may get annoyed with me because I will continue to ask for fics about reg BECAUSE YOU WRITE HIM SO WELL LIKE AHHHHH anyway if you want me to stop please tell me :)

Anyway back to the point so I was wondering if you could do a fic where reader and reg are dating and there in the common room maybe reading together or in the dorms just cuddling or anything you can think of and like Barty and Evan come into the room and they just see reg being all soft and stuff and maybe tease him about it, it’s up to you how you want to finish it :)

Regulus black, white boy of the millennium.

Regulus black x gn!Reader

A/n: HE ☹️☹️☹️ My requests are open 😼

It had been a long day.

Regulus had gone to quidditch practice in the morning, and then had taken 3 tests during the school day. It all left him feeling burnt out and tired.

He entered the common room, fighting the urge to throw his bag to the side and flop down on to the nearest sofa. And then he saw you.

That was all it took to have him relax. He walked over to the small couch that you were sitting on in the corner of the common room.

Once he was in front of you, he wordlessly put down his bag and sat next to you, resting his head on your shoulder with a sigh.

"Hey, Regs." You said with a chuckle. "Rough day?"

"Mhm."

"Anything serious?" You asked.

"Not really."

"Well, I'm still sorry you had a rough day." You said as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. You felt him relax against you and sigh contently.

"S'okay." He mumbled as he closed his eyes. He could definitely fall asleep like this.

About an hour passed, in which you and regulus continued to cuddle.

You were playing with his hair while talking about a movie you'd watched recently, and Regulus' eyes were closed as he silently listened to your voice.

His blissful moment was interrupted by two far more annoying voices.

"Someone's looking comfortable."

Regulus opened his eyes, even though he already knew who was in front of him.

Barty and Evan stood in front of him, obviously holding back laughter.

Regulus groaned and buried his face into your neck. "Piss off." He mumbled.

"Yeah, it's a bit hard to take you seriously when you're all snuggled up, mate." Evan chuckled.

Regulus felt his face burn with embarrassment. Of course, he wasn't embarrassed to be with you. He just wasn't used to other people seeing this side of him.

"Do you idiots need something?" You asked with a playful roll of your eyes.

"Yes, actually." Barty said. "Your boyfriend promised to help us two idiots study for our transfiguration test tomorrow."

Regulus sighed in frustration. He'd promised to do that yesterday. Before he knew this day would be exhausting. "I-"

"You promised." Evan said before Regulus could ditch the two.

Regulus groaned. "Okay, fine." He begrudgingly gave in. "You two go to the library, I'll catch up."

"Will you?" Barty asked with narrowed eyes.

"Yes! Just give me a minute, Gods."

Barty and Evan snickered, giving quick goodbyes before walking away. Regulus could hear them loudly laughing as they exited the common room.

"They're assholes." He mumbled to you.

You chuckled. "Yeah. But, it's affectionate." You said, rubbing his back softly.

"I should ditch them."

"Very tempting. But, no."

Regulus sighed. He knew you were right, but he wasn't happy about it. He sat up and stretched his arms above his head before turning to you. "Give me a kiss before I go?"

You smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

He smiled softly and got up, grabbing his bag. "We'll hang out after dinner?" He suggested.

"Definitely." You replied.

Regulus finally made it to the library and sat at the table where Barty and Regulus were waiting for him.

"Took you long enough, lover boy." Barty chuckled.

"Shut up. You should be glad I didn't bail on you two." Regulus said as he pulled a few textbooks from his bag. "Now can we stop wasting time and get this over with?"

Barty rolled his eyes. "Fine."

...

"So, are we invited to the wedding?"

"Shut up!"

[yourmumsweirdshit]

An Idea - Part 1

Gwen Stacy x Reader

Masterlist

“I can’t believe her!” Captain Stacy yells in frustration as he slams the front door behind him. “Who?” You ask peeping your head out Gwen’s room. “Spider-Woman, who else gets my dad like this?” Gwen snickers as she walks past you and into the kitchen as her dad glares at her. “That’s not funny, she’s a vigilante, and she leaves a huge mess wherever she goes.” He sighs as he takes a seat at the table. “I’m sure you’ll catch her sir.” You respond in attempts to cheer him up. However, Gwen, enjoying her fathers suffering, keeps the conversation going. “I don’t know why you’re so mad about this Dad, she’s literally doing what you’re doing; helping people and then leaving. Practically doing your job for you.” She sighs as she opens the cupboard looking for snacks.

“She wears a mask, I don’t because I have nothing to hide, she does, and if she doesn’t, why wear a mask?” He asks as I agree with him nodding my head to which Gwen raises her eyebrows at me. “You’re not seriously agreeing with him on this, are you?” She says, scoffing as she pulls a box out and shutting the cupboard. “I do understand what he’s saying.” I say before a cheer comes from George. “Yes! Thank you! See, someone around here sees things clearly.” Gwen rolls her eyes as she goes to fill up a glass of water. “To some degree.” I say, slowly finishing off my sentence.

“Noo, why would you say that Y/N, I thought maybe someone round here would have a chance to go to college.” He says making my eyes widen. “Woww.” I respond dragging out the word as he laughs, Gwen almost spitting out her drink at her Dads response. “That was good, I’ll give you that.” She says walking up to her dad and passing him a cup of coffee. “Low blow to me but I’ll take it.” She says patting his shoulder as he chuckles. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week.” He responds making Gwen roll her eyes once more. “Come on Y/N.” She says as she grabs the box of snacks and walking past me, pulling me into her room with her and shutting the door behind her.

“Here, catch.” She says as she throws a pack of chocolate to me before opening a large pack of chips and dumping it into a bowl. “Thanks.” I say as I take a piece off the block and throwing it back to her. “So, you never did say where you stand.” Gwen says as she takes a seat on her bed, bowl in hand as she puts a chip in her mouth. “What do you mean?” I ask as I take a seat beside her, also grabbing a chip from the bowl. “About Spider-woman. What are your thoughts on her?” She asks making me laugh.

“So you can tell your dad I’m on your side?” I ask as a large smile takes over her face. “So you are on my side!” She says loud enough for her dad to hear. “Shhh.” I whisper putting my finger to her mouth and looking back at the door to have any indication that he heard Gwen’s words. “Are you trying to have me kicked out and never welcome here again?” I say to which Gwen laughs at my words. “Sorry, sorry. She hates Spider-Woman Dad.” She responds making me shake my head. “You’re a loser.” I say as I get up and move to her desk, grabbing the chocolate bar as I take a seat on the spinning chair.

“So continue, what are your thoughts?” She continues, ignoring my words. “Why? You wanna know if I’m in love with her or something? Or maybe you are; wanting to keep her as the topic for so long.” I tease to which she raises her eyebrows unamused. “Yes, I’m in love, you caught me.” She says sarcastically as she dramatically falls back onto her bed. “Come on, what do you think of her.” She asks as lays back on her elbows.

“What do you mean, like her age and theories and stuff?” I ask leaning forward to grab the bowl from beside her. “Yeah why not.” She says as she sits up, her back against the wall. “Well I think she’s young.” I say to which Gwen cuts me off. “Our age?” She asks straightening her back. “No, maybe someone a bit older, finished high school at the minimum.” I say to which she raises an eyebrow at. “Why do you say that?” She asks as she grabs a pillow and places it in her lap.

“I’d put her in my prayers if she goes to high school or college because I’m already drowning in enough school work, and this girl’s doing that and saving people on the side, as a hobby? I’d honestly feel so bad, I’d do her homework for her.” She laughs at my words. “Do my homework then.” A smile on her lips as she glances at the pile of papers on her desk. “You are hilarious.” I say with a dry laugh to which her smile widens.

“If I was Spider-Woman would you do it?” She asks making me look at her homework once more. “This is how I know you can’t be Spider-Woman, because if you can do all this, hang out with me and Peter, be part of the band and be top of the class, while also being a hero on the side then you’d be psycho.” I say as I roll around her room in the chair. “Well she is a superhero.” She responds, putting emphasis on super. “And on top of that she does have powers”

“But like, how do we even know she has powers though, she could be like Bruce-Wayne, rich and smart. So smart that she’s created a technology to stick to walls or create synthetic webbing, it’s like her own grappler.” I say referring to the uprising trend of creating superhero comics based off animals. “What if her webbing was organic, and she could actually just stick to walls?” She responds making me continue on. “Then she’d have holes in her wrist and I’m sure someone would know then.” I say glancing at Gwen’s wrist. “But then that means she’d have no friends, so I guess that means that you could be Spider-Woman.” I smile as she scoffs. “Rude.” She says crossing her arms. “Guess someone’s not getting answers for their homework tonight.” She smirks as my eyes widen.

“Wait, no, Gwen. I’m sorry.” I say as I stop moving in the chair. “Gwen please, I’m so sorry, you’re friends with everyone, you have so many friends.” I say as I slowly try to scoot the chair closer to the bed. “You could totally be Spider-Woman. You’re as amazing as she her, as wonderful as her, as super as her.” I say as I drop on to floor, as I hold her leg, begging her as she now sits at the edge of the bed. “You’re 100% as beautiful as her.” I say looking up as she raises an eyebrow, trying to contain the smile tugging at her lips as she pushes me off her. “Hell, I know you’re even prettier than her.” I say as I take my seat back in the chair. “Piss off.” She says as she looks away, trying to hide the faint tint of pink in her cheeks. “Love you!” I say adding to the fire, smiling as she groans and pushes her face into pillow.

“I’m sure Spider-woman, wouldn’t even let you do her homework, you can’t even do your own. You’d probably just come and steal them off me.” Her words slightly muffled through her pillow as I laugh. “Well that’s a good thing right? She’s now guaranteed the best results.” I say as she puts her pillow down and I smile wider at her faux smile. “And if I was Spider-Woman, what would you do next?” She asks as she grabs the bowl of chips off the table. “Then you wouldn’t need my help, because you’re so perfect already.” I tease as she rolls her eyes.

“And you forgot that she has super-strength, so her powers are real.” She mentions as I spin around in the chair. “Ah, true, I can’t believe I forgot about that one.” I say as she nods. “So if I was Spider-Woman, first thing I’m doing is throwing you out of this apartment.” She responds making my jaw drop. “You wouldn’t, you love me too much.” I say to which she raises her eyebrows. “And you’re sure about that?” She asks making me place a hand on my heart and lean back in the chair. “That hurt more than a bullet wound.” I say, clenching my fist around my shirt.

“You’ve never even been shot.” She says as I spin around in the chair. “Nothing can hurt more than you breaking my heart Gwen, my love is only for you.” I say as I stop the chair to make a heart with my hands. Her response to that is throwing the unopened pack of Oreos at my head. “Rude.” I say barely dodging the throw. “Sorry, not sorry.” She shrugs as she acts unbothered, the smile on her face saying otherwise.

“What would be something you’d have to do if you were spider-woman?” She looks up from her lap, awaiting my response. “The upside down kiss.” Unable to hide the smile on my face she raises an eyebrow? “The upside down kiss?” She repeats. “Yeah, it’s gotta be done.” I respond before saying something else. “You reckon spider-woman’s done it?” I ask to which she lets out a laugh. “Yeah, maybe. If I ever meet her, I’ll tell her to find you.”

A knock on the door pulls both your attention to the door. “Can I come in?” Her dad asks before Gwen gets up and opens the door for him. “Hey, I’m just letting you girls know I’ve got work in the morning so you might not see me when you wake up. But here’s some cash for dinner, or breakfast.” He says as he looks at the pile of snacks in the room. “Thanks Dad.” Gwen says laughing as she looks back at food. “Thank you.” I reply before Gwen shuts the door. “You hungry?” She asks with a smile on her face as she waves the cash in the air. “Always.” She laughs as she takes a seat on the bed. “Great, come here and let’s see what we can get.” She says patting a place on the bed beside her.

A/N: Also shoutout to the person filling my inbox with kind messages, appreciate it ❤️

[anameistoohard]

Oh boy, lets open that can of worms

There's a LOT of discourse with endo vs anti-endo stuff (endogenic system=plural system not formed by trauma if you don't know 🙂). Like, death threats coming from both sides kinda thing. We try to stay out of it. But it's easy to accidentally stumble into it if you're not familiar with some of the nuance. So we want to share some observations as like, a crash course. (And apparently we had a lot to say lol.)

This post isn't really to debate how plurality forms. Just to give some context as to why so much hate is flying between these two groups.

Basically, you have 2 extremes. (And everyone in between obviously)

On one side you have people making up extra rules on top of the diagnostic criteria to exclude and gatekeep anyone who doesn't meet "their level" of disordered. (I've literally heard people say "you can't be a system, you're not as traumatized as me"). A lot of accusations of faking come from this bunch. Too much internal communication? Faker. Too many non-human alters? Faker. Too many or not enough alters? Faker. You can't win with them even if you have a diagnosis.

We've noticed a lot of parallels between this group and transmeds. You need to have x level of dysphoria to ride this ride. You can't be trans if you don't want xyz treatment. You need to reach my arbitrary bar of "trans enough". Enbys and everyone else are fakers. That kind of bs.

But on this side you also have a lot of people who just want to be taken seriously. They want to be validated by their diagnosis and feel hurt when people say or do things that they think will compromise that validity. They, at least initially, come from a place of sincerity not malice. But they fall into the trap of trying to be "one of the good ones".

On the other extreme you have the wild west. Things people treat as fact aren't codified with the same scrutiny as the DSM-5 or ICD-11. This breeds its own confusion and misinformation. We've seen people conflate plurality with things like maladaptive day dreaming, lucid dreaming, adhd, and (applying it to other people with ferocity to the point of harassment) metaphors of all things.

They have a spaghetti at the wall approach that reminds me of a less extreme MOGII (an attempt to define just about every possible form of gender and sexuality). It's a messy patchwork of ideas. We've seen 8 different labels that all mean the same thing and are being used by exactly no one. Redundancy and hyperspcificity, that's the name of the game. But frankly we like this if for no other reason than we want to see what sticks, what becomes mainstream.

We've seen people from this group attack people as badly as the anti-endo group. Openly mocking people for having trauma or saying vile shit like "traumagenics kys". They feel threatened by the exclusionary nature of diagnoses. But instead of taking their frustration out on the systems of power they take them out on normal people. After all if you're diagnosed, you "represent the system"... I guess. Equally bull shit.

But this is also where the edge cases go, the exclusions, those that don't fit into a neat little box. The DSM excludes people whose plurality is accepted as part of their culture or religion. These people don't suddenly stop being systems just because they're accepted, but they're distinctly not disordered. They don't meet the clinical definition of DID or OSDD. Same goes for someone whose symptoms are mild enough to not cause "clinically significant distress". You also have people who don't want to be pathologized or have been failed by the medical system.

So lastly, a warning: When dealing with plural stuff, it's very easy to go stumbling into a mine field.

Tldr: I would always rather land on the side of letting too many people in than exclude people who needed the support. However, no matter your in-group, some people take things too far. Like, ffs don't attack people. 

-Taylor & Mark

[dootznbootz]

As someone who is also really uncomfortable with the Zeus/Odysseus art trend, I completely understand where your coming from!

People’s treatment of Odysseus’s assaults in general makes me really upset. Just the other day I saw a comment on a post saying that “Odysseus wasn’t loyal to his wife yet expects her to be loyal to him” and not once in the replies did I see someone mention that he was literally assaulted. It’s absolutely gross and makes me hesitant to go deeper into the fandom.

I remember being so frustrated when the snippets of “There are Other Ways” came out because so many people were making Hamilton jokes and talking about how he always talks about his wife yet cheated. When in the song it was so clear he was being coerced which is yknow, not a form of consent. I couldn’t even listen to it because it made me so uncomfortable, and even now with the full version out the fandoms reaction to it overall have soured me to it. Which sucks, because I do think it’s a great song.

Also I don’t even think Epic completely erases Calypso’s assault? At least, I think it’s left ambiguous enough during the time jump that people can come to their own conclusions. Specifically when Calypso says “Soon into bed we’ll climb and spend our time” just really gives me the impression that something else happened.

I suppose in the snippets we’ve seen of “I’m Not Sorry For Loving You” it seems like Odysseus and Calypso are on slightly friendlier terms, but I don’t think that negates the fact she could’ve assaulted him. And I’ve always took that song as pretty manipulative on Calypso’s side, with Odysseus more so trying to placate her. But that’s going into theory territory.

And even if he isn’t SA’d in Epic it’s pretty clear he doesn’t want to be there!! Same with Homer’s Odyssey. It’s so infuriating to see the cheating narrative be so widely spread when that is just not what happened.

Anyway’s sorry for the long rant, but I wanted to say that it’s nice to see you take Odysseus’s SA seriously. It’s not something the fandom does enough.

It's okay for the long rant. Sorry I took a bit to get to it but I wanted some "soft chatters" for a bit before I tackled this one :)

"Just the other day I saw a comment on a post saying that “Odysseus wasn’t loyal to his wife yet expects her to be loyal to him” and not once in the replies did I see someone mention that he was literally assaulted. It’s absolutely gross and makes me hesitant to go deeper into the fandom."

I completely understand you with this stuff. ;~; I used to go through Odyssey tags often as I LOVE possibly finding new people to follow and fun things but too many times I would see shit that pissed me off. ;~; I've honestly kind of just stuck to my mutuals that I trust tbh. And honestly, there's soooo much shit of people just straight up not understanding the context/culture/meaning/etc. of the Epics and just taking it at face value and not understanding the meanings. :/ I'm no expert, but I also have analyzed and researched quite a bit on my own to try and get the full picture. I think in order to truly enjoy the Odyssey, you need to just... really soak shit in, you know?

When Calypso, that lovely goddess,  tried                           to keep me with her in her hollow cave, longing for me to become her husband,                                  or when, in the same way, the cunning witch Aeaean Circe held me in her home filled with a keen desire I’d marry her, they never won the heart here in my chest.

(Book 9, Johnston)

Odysseus tells this to the Phaecians. They are strangers that he will likely never see again and who are isolationists. Therefore his story that he told probably won't be "spread" to others so he can probably say whatever. So he doesn't have to worry about "Penelope hearing a different story than the one he told to her" if people wanna argue about how "Oh well, he didn't tell Penelope about the 'affairs'"(He tells her everything as well btw.)

He could literally say "Oh yeah, I had the time of my life!" but he doesn't because that's not true. Odysseus has no listed concubines, I just literally don't see him as the type of guy who's really into that.

And while yes, he would be devastated if she didn't "stay loyal", he does sound like he'd be understanding. He asks his mother in the Underworld if Penelope had gotten remarried to "the finest of Achaeans". And we all know of Odysseus' words of "when Telemachus has a beard, feel free to remarry". Even when first "rejected" by Penelope in that she didn't hug him when he sat across from her, he was incredibly hurt but asked for a separate bed. He literally could have had it where Penelope takes a different bed and he takes their luxurious/fancy one because he has the rest of the household on his side.

But he DOESN'T!

Because he adores her for fuck's sake!

Funny enough? I have the weird reaction of like, weirdly searching out "Good" animatics as it was a weird reassurance of "yes, people see that it's wrong." as while holy fuck. so many stupid, awful jokes about "Say No to This" in the comments (I have learned to just stay the fuck away from youtube comments on Odysseus shit. :') ) but like, seeing and HEARING how yes, this was fucked, was weirdly really nice for me. yeah, it took a lot of digging but there's a few "There Are Other Ways" that I love. Literally, both are unfinished wips and they're still my favorites. If you can, please give these two a watch and some love for the creator.

This was back before we heard the full song and it's still very good. How he's on guard until she "magics" him and the colors change. After that he kind of moves like a "puppet" but he's still resisting as best he can.

This one is literally still sketches but it's my absolute favorite. Oh my word. The body language, PENELOPE FLASHBACKS!!! Showing cute bits of Penelope's character and how awful this is for him. (Penelope is so cute. She puffs up her cheeks to make him laugh!) How he really is scared that he'll have to go through with this in order to save his friends until all his past trauma floods back and he just can't. It's lovely.

And yeah Idk how to feel about "I'm Not Sorry For Loving You" :/ I don't know how it'll be yet, maybe there's something in another song that shows Odysseus' real feelings or whatever.

And with just the whole cheating thing, yeah, it's really upsetting to call what is blatant assault "cheating". As wild as it sounds, Odysseus' story has been more relatable for me than any other stories like this, even modern ones. I've spoken a bit about it before but yeh, victim blaming at its finest. I find him and his story and his love for Penelope slkdfj very relatable. It's honestly really nice to write about in a sense..

(I'm pasting this from an old post of mine but yeh)

I have never had a story that felt like how it actually FEELS. The "aftermath" and "regaining life". It's hopeful and feels really good. It's been years since "everything" but it just felt nice to see "Everybody has the chance to get better." Even Nestor, Helen, and Menelaus, while still dealing with their traumas, are doing a lot better now. And after literal hell, Odysseus got to be with his family and loved ones again. He can start living again. It's why I'm just...idk passionate about this? I'm not a murderer or a war veteran but I see myself in him. Hopefully, y'all see me as nicer though!😂(plus, let's be honest, the Odyssey is romantic af and OdyPen is right up my alley as well >:D )

I really hate the whole "he's a guy so therefore ____" whether it's used as a "Boys will be boys. they can't help themselves" usually aimed at female victims or a "Men always want sex. they cannot be victims.". It's fucked up and used against ALL of us. :( Doesn't matter if it was history. People, no matter the era, should never be put through "Are you Victim™ enough?". He is one.

Idk the Odyssey means a lot to me. I hope it's okay I take some liberties with my fanfics as it's nice healing through him :D I AM kind of using my own experiences and ideas and it feels nice. I don't think Homer necessarily meant for this but eh, anything that helps is good :D He's a war criminal that I relate to.

[nothingbutnowhere]

Hockey player au! Simon "Ghost" Riley headcanons. Based on the NHL

Note: suggestive of ghoap and ghoap x reader (she/her used)

Goalie. Starter. Tall, large, and most importantly: weird. Goalies are always weird, idk they just are, it's what happens when you spend half the game hanging out alone I guess

The best part of goalie Ghost is his flexibility. Have you seen how flexible goalies are? These huge, muscular men can do the splits. It's very important to me that you consider flexible Ghost, thank you.

His mask is black and white, matches his tattoos. He's the unshakable goalie, not flashy, never frustrated. Just a brick fuckin wall. If he sees it, he's going to stop it. You cannot snipe on him and score. Also his rebound control is unreal, no second chances.

He never retaliates against opposing players fucking with him because no one fucks with him due to:

His death glare, it's enough to make any and every enforcer or net nuisance shake in his skates

The Incident in the minors where he sent a guy to the hospital with a jab from his blocker and almost got kicked out of the league and banned from the NHL

On the off chance that something untoward does happen on accident, someone else will do that for him. The bond between a goalie and his defensemen cannot be understated. Ok fine. Soap. He's the defenseman, there's the spoiler.

Very superstitious, has his routines and does not deviate. Doesn't ever take his mask off on the ice, except when it breaks. Doesn't even pull it up to squirt water on his face or drink.

The loyalty that his skaters have towards him and vice versa is off the charts. Even if the media and fans don't see it, it's there. Usually guys don't speak poorly of their goalies, but this is on another level. Ferda.

Speaking of, social media people can never catch him. Like seriously where does this guy even walk in the building?? Where does he go during intermission?? Surely he practices at some point right?? He won the Veznia trophy (voted best goalie) and straight up did not show up to the ceremony.

He will go to the children's hospital to do visits with the team and the kids are either terrified or love him. Picturing him giving out the little teddy bears 😭

Caught covid despite his vigilant PPE usage (hockey locker rooms are cesspools like ew), got really sick, and developed myocarditis; ie almost died multiple times, recovered insanely fast and then just showed back up to practice one day at 100% like "put me in coach". No one outside of the trainers and locker room even knew why he was gone to begin with. Wild stuff.

Hockey players tend to tack on an '-y' or sometimes '-er' to a name for funsies but no one gets to call him 'Ghosty'. (Maybe Soap can call him that in private, as a treat 🥺)

Hockey hair status: he shaves his head boooo (not that you'd even be able to tell really with his mask and use of hats and hoods). Won't even grow out facial hair during the playoffs. Maybe if he did then he'd have a cup. Smh.

Roster pic: the meanest mug you've ever seen on a guy

Mic'd up status: everyone thinks he's unmic-able, however he's secretly telling jokes to himself when the puck is in the other zone. But no one needs to know that.

WAG status: if he had one we would never know... Right? He's always in the background of photos that Soap's girlfriend takes and posts of her and Soap? Much speculation.

...

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

Note: WAG stands for wife and girlfriend or the plural, used to refer to sports guys significant others. Yes it is heteronormative.

A/N: I'll never actually write fics for this, but I have headcanons. I know a moderate amount about hockey and next to nothing about cod so apologies. Completely unserious. Just some silly little thoughts :) plus letterkenny reference!

Edit for typo

More hockey au: Soap | Gaz | Price

[aettuddae]

hole in one — chapter 100.

⌕ synopsis: at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, where everyone is battling to be the center of attention, yu jimin is just a regular. people want her because of her beauty, but all she cares about is sharing her freaky stuff with her friends and passing her subjects. although there's one thing that might push her out of her comfort zone, revenge. when nakamura kazuha, one of the richest and most well-known students of NCU, starts to spread gossip about her for thousands of followers to see, jimin decides to get back by taking away the thing kazuha cares about the most: her perfect girlfriend, the young golf star, kwon haru.

masterlist | prev | next

[written chapter]

[warning: suggestive]

"good luck with him!" haru's voice filled the entire hotel hallway where the rooms the lordland team players were staying in were located.

"give him lots of water." recommended karina in a loud volume so that seungkwan, who was entering his room carrying a severely inebriated minhyuk, could hear.

the boy was so busy trying to keep his partner on his feet that he only responded to them with a thumbs up as he continued to push the taller one, until finally disappearing from sight. the sound of the door closing was heard.

"poor kwan, he's in for a rough night." took pity the older girl, making the other laugh.

"well, that's the boy he wanted." reminded this one teasingly.

"do you have our key?" asked haru, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall as she waited for her room to be unlocked.

"of course i have it." jimin picked up her bag and opened it to start rummaging through the things inside, looking for the card to open with.

"i told you not to lose it." the golfer complained, standing upright and approaching the girl somewhat annoyed, looking inside the accessory, but not touching.

"i didn't lose it!" she defended herself. "don't touch." she softly slapped the girl's hand which went through her belongings with the intention of speeding up the search.

"hey, does this dress look weird on me?" questioned kwon as she looked down at her clothes.

"haru, you asked the same question all night, we already told you that you look amazing." she replied as she kept trying to find the item.

"i guess this isn't my color." she continued with a listless attitude. "you lost it!" she accused jimin again as she covered her face with her hands in frustration.

"i told you i didn't lose it." she scoffed as she held up the small plastic between her fingers, victorious, and then proceeded to stick out her tongue to tease haru. "and you look beautiful, enough doubting." she pointed the card at her defiantly.

"whatever, either way, the night's over." she dismissed. "open up." she pointed her head in the direction of the door.

"haru, you seriously look great." she took a few steps towards the door, but instead of opening it, she blocked it. "look, i'll even give you compliments so you'll understand how great you look through my eyes."

"no, jimin, open the door!" she asked as she laughed at her friend's sudden proposal.

"are you a water hazard?" she blurted out with the smuggest smile possible as she held the older girl's waist to keep her from moving.

"is that the only flirt line you know?"

"you never let me finish it!"

"i already know the punch line, it's bad." she grumbled, reaching for the door key. "open!"

"how do you know the answer, who used it on you?" jimin hid the card behind her back and feigned annoyance.

"hey, i want to go to sleep." haru pleaded, with an amused expression on her face, bringing her hands to hold the younger girl's cheeks between them, as if it would make it easier for her to understand her words.

"who else told my haru that she has them soaking wet?" she pouted her lips and spoke in a higher pitch to sound cuter, which only caused haru to burst into laughter.

"friends, people who have tried to flirt with me, i don't know. i just know they've told me that one before." she rambled nonchalantly.

"and why do you let them throw that line at you? are they more important than me?" she brought a hand to her chest dramatically. "wasn't i your princess?"

"yes, you are my princess, jimin." she grabbed the opposite's shoulder, reassuring her. "now, please let me into the room."

"if i am your princess then you should deal with me first." she took a step forward, standing only inches away from each other, and rested her touch on haru's neck.

"what does that mean?" she scoffed, holding karina's waist to support her so she wouldn't lose her balance.

"please me." she commanded in a whisper, which, given the closeness, haru could hear clearly.

the older one kept quiet for a moment, her gaze static on jimin, contemplating her, -her or what she should do after that statement-. but she just let go of her body, raised her arm to reach for the key that was on the girl's grip and walked away.

"you're drunk." she accused as she finally opened the door and stepped into the room, tossing her belongings around, and removing her shoes.

"i'm not, you know i'm not." she whined as she followed her inside.

karina set her purse down on a small glass table by the entrance, then moved around to the other side to place the card in a slot in the wall, which made the room light up.

she never expected that with the light, would also come haru's body aggressively wrapping around hers and pushing her, guiding her again towards the gateway of the room, crashing her against the now closed door. and as animals, when she had her locked against that piece of wood, she captured her. trapping her mouth with her own, tasting her cherry lipstick, biting her lips as if trying to tear the skin that covered them off.

karina threw her arms around haru's neck and inflicted force to draw her even closer. the emotions overflowing her body were satisfying, she could tell she was happy at that moment, though not for sure because of how clouded her mind felt by the raw human urges her body was having, but she wanted more. reasoned that the closer haru was, the better she would feel. so all her limbs were working to hold her friend as if they were trying to become one with her.

her leg clung to haru's and slid upwards as if she was about to wrap herself around her opponent's waist, but she never succeeded, for it was just another part of her body seeking contact and warmth. still, kwon's palm twisted around it and caressed it, rising up to her thigh, lifting her dress a little, before the younger girl lost her balance and leaned it back to the ground.

yet with their lips entwined to each other's, them wandering over their bodies, and their arms holding themselves, they began to move around the place, in search of the bed positioned in the middle, right behind haru.

jimin took advantage of haru's grip on her torso and lifted one of her legs into the air, then stretched her arm back and removed with some effort her shoe. she dropped her now bare foot again, and moved into action to take off the other, but haru, who hadn't realized what the girl was doing, kept walking. because of this, the blackhaired girl, who had one foot suspended, lost her balance and fell to the floor.

"shit!" she exclaimed upon landing, as she rolled over to sit up and began rubbing the knee she had fallen over.

"what are you doing?" questioned haru exaltedly watching her with wide eyes in surprise.

"what do you mean what am i doing? i fell." she gave her a frowning look.

"are you okay?" she bent down to help her withdraw her remaining heel.

"yes, i'm fine." she affirmed tossing the shoe away. "please don't let this stop you from thinking i'm sexy." she joked, causing them both to let out a laugh.

the golfer grasped her and helped her up, then they both stood looking at each other in silence, the fall having interrupted and calmed the intense moment they were in. she lovingly arranged the younger girl's hair, who brought her lips close to hers to kiss her again. but haru didn't move, didn't reject her, but didn't reciprocate either.

"are you okay?" karina examined her sweetly, to which the girl nodded. "haru, if you regret this and don't want to do it, we can stop now. we'll go to sleep and tomorrow we'll pretend it never happened. i won't get mad, just say the word." she tried to soothe her after seeing her sudden change of attitude.

karina knew it was her first time being with a new person after so many years, and that it might be hard for her to assimilate what she felt.

"do you want me?" she murmured in a thread of voice so fragile that all desire in jimin's body was forgotten, and replaced by the vehement need to hold her and take care of her forever.

"of course i want you, haru." she wrapped the girl in a warm embrace. "you have no idea how much i want you." she assured in her ear.

the girl's chin rested on the opposite's shoulder, their cheeks rubbing together. jimin lowered her mouth just below her ear and left a delicate kiss there, physically reinforcing her words. haru looked to her side, making eye contact, and the two slowly moved closer until they kissed again.

that contact was much more tender than the previous one, it was a sign of affection rather than need. in the way they caressed and rocked with each other, there was a pact of security and trust.

"i like you a lot, haru." she confessed midway through that kiss, after having felt that way for so long.

"i like you too, jimin." she requited, accepting those emotions that had lived with her for quite some time, but to which she had never given a name.

haru inclined slightly, touching the back of the girl's thighs with her fingertips, giving her the signal for her to mildly jump, which the older one took advantage of to hold her and lift her up, getting jimin to wrap her legs around her waist.

they met again in another kiss, as the golfer walked towards the bed.

"are you sure?" karina wondered again once they were at the edge of the mattress.

"sure." she repeated then leaned her back against the sheets and hovered over her to connect their lips again.

(!)

— taglist: @runawaymazola @chaenniefirst @livelaughchoerry @rinapomu @jeindall777 @petruchiosstuff @winieter @sewiouslyz @minjeongswife @yvesismywife

[unforth]

Prefacing this TGCF post with: people can draw and write however they want forever and I support them and this is about my personal view of these characters.

Anyway.

I saw a post today that had Xie Lian singing "when will my life begin" from Tangled and it drove home what really bugs me about a lot of fan casts of Hualian onto popular media (see also my Howl's Moving Castle take). It's this idea that Xie Lian is, well, waiting for his life to begin, and Hua Cheng swoops in and makes it exciting, when this is imo so utterly antithetical, and in fact opposite, to canon.

Xie Lian has lived and lived and lived. He was a prince, he fought in wars, even during his 800 years fallen the whole book is an exercise in showing that he WASN'T just waiting around, he kept doing things the whole time - Fang Xin Guoshi and General Hua and and and. AND he also cultivated to the point of ascending again. Xie Lian is a fucking bad ass idealistic martyr who doesn't know when to quit and at least to me that's the whole point of his character and I love that about and for him so to see him inserted into existing franchise AUs as the wilting flower waiting for a moment to shine is utter character erasure and it makes me insane enough that I'm writing this post about it even though I think I shouldn't and even though I genuinely don't want to rain on anyone's fandom parade. But like. That's not him!

You know who it is?

It's Hua Cheng!

Hong Hong'er lives in Xianle, a kingdom where all this stuff is happening, and he just watches from the sidelines. He's an observer at the parade. He's just some kid. And then he falls (or jumps, or is pushed, you pick your interpretation) and he's caught by literally the coolest guy in the entire kingdom. He's the nobody who gets swept off his feet! And it changes his whole life! Like I think it wouldn't irk me so much to see Xie Lian get typecast that way if Hua Cheng wasn't right there literally living his "I met God and it changed my whole life for the better" fantasy. He seriously deserves to get recognized for this. I get that he's the loud flamboyant one so that makes it seem like he should get cast as a Howl or a Flynn or whoever, but like. He was waiting for his life to begin, and it does, when he meets Xie Lian.

And like. I get that these are kinda competing interpretations that depend on when you look at canon - I'm looking at the original 800 years ago events, others are looking at Hua Cheng coming in 800 years later - but still the "present" in TGCF isn't imo about Xie Lian having waited to be saved, he hasn't been in a hat shop for his whole life boredly making hats, he's never stopped moving and never stopped adventuring and never stopped striving to change the world. Hua Cheng is living out his "you saved me now I save you" fantasies but fundamentally they save each other over and over and over again and that's beautiful and I hate seeing it erased to make Xie Lian into the wilting flower. Like. The one who basically hasn't done anything that whole 800 years is ALSO Hua Cheng. We don't hear about him going off and having idealistic adventures. Everything we know of that he's done was directly related to Xie Lian (ie burning the temples). Other than that he seems to sit around in Ghost City chilling with his ghoulies. So again, finding Xie Lian is what pulls him out of his funk and prompts him to start acting for good, whereas Xie Lian has been acting for good the whole time.

Ugh. I should shut up now, just, I've been in this fandom for four years and this has become such a pet peeve of mine because it reflects such a huge disconnect between how I perceive these characters and how much of the rest of fandom does. And that frustrates me, cause I wish there was more content in line with my perception.

[all-pacas]

I know you say that you ship camchase out of spite, cause the show didn't write them very well. so I'm curious, assuming all the main storybeats still happen—hunting, fwb, they date, the itch, saviors, dibala, lockdown—what would you change? what offscreen thing would you have liked to see? besides screentime, what would you add?

Oh that's a good question and it's one I'm really thinking about, because I don't know if it has a simple one-thing answer. So here's what frustrates me about how the ship is shown in canon, and we can go from there:

It's all about House. I get it, it's the House Show, and it's not even that I'd take away the Cameron crush/lingering arc from CamChase, it's more the way the entire relationship ends up being about House: the references to CamChase dating in S4 are about House (does Cameron still like him?? Chase is jealous!!), the S5 engagement brings up the idea that Cameron is in love with House four years after that really makes sense, and Teamwork and their breakup ends up being more Cameron breaking up with House than her husband: CamChase don't even get a final conversation, or any conversation at all. And this is a problem of the show to an extent, but it adds a weird vibe to CamChase: is she meant to be House's love interest in the end? How much a part of their relationship is House? What are they like without him? We don't really know.

The pairing has general POV issues as well. Until S5, we only ever see the relationship through Cameron's eyes, and sort of oddly at that: The Itch and Saviors and Human Error are all from her point of view, all episodes where she has the agency and drive and Problem To Overcome: Cameron has to learn a Lesson and the relationship/Chase exist only to react to this. And then, sort of hilariously, we get the complete reversal in S6, where Cameron barely factors at all into Dibala and the fallout, where suddenly she has no opinions or agency and can only react to what Chase does, until she dumps House and leaves.

I want to like Lockdown, but the whole episode feels so much like a retcon. Suddenly their divorce wasn't about murder, it was about how Cameron is too screwed up to love anyone! This is not something the show had ever seriously presented before, this was never part of their breakup, but now Chase is still a character and suddenly matters, so he needs to be the victim, so Cameron is abruptly made the villain. I don't think the entire idea of it is wrong (Cameron is screwed up and has been said to be so since S1), but it's kind of wild, right? Especially because in prior episodes, we were always seeing her POV and her side and meant to sympathize with her. In Saviors, it's supposed to be very sad and very understandable that she's scared; we're not supposed to stop and think "wow, she's kind of being awful to Chase right now."

We really have very little sense for what they were like as a couple. What did they see in one another? I don't actually think this has to be all that deep: it's possible to extrapolate a lot, and sometimes people do just kind of date without it being a true madly in love thing. We know they get along and were friends, they have good chemistry, they enjoy one another's company. That's fine. But because they existed entirely in the background and separately for most of their relationship, you kind of have to extrapolate. We know what they're both like as people and when they were on the team. The FWB arc is honestly pretty good at showing how they get along. But like… S5 Cameron says Chase is this naive romantic, and where does she get that idea? Where did it come from? I can buy it (I'd argue the S8 rebound nun proves this handily), but we don't see it. Chase in The Itch says he's felt shut out by Cameron for a long time, but again, we don't see it. I can buy he's passive-aggressive/avoidant enough to mention it, but it would have been nice to have inklings of this stuff before the Special Episodes. They were dating for around three years, and like. If you didn't know they were a couple through all of S4, could you really tell?

So, boiled down: I think there's some weird "as you know" retcons and the show struggles with POV where they're concerned. Cameron is treated as the "main character" of the romance and that's fine (she always was a more important character than Chase), but that makes the abrupt S6 switch to Chase's POV jarring. They also exist entirely offscreen: we don't know if they were healthy and loving or toxic and distant. Because we only see them a handful of times, and because those times are always Cameron Learns A Special Lesson episodes (or, in Lockdown, Cameron gets thrown under the bus), I think they come off as more toxic than they were supposed to be. Like yes, they always had some red flags, but we are supposed to think of them as a basically functional and happy couple while they lasted: I'm thinking of Thirteen quickly reassuring Chase in Private Lives that "what you had was real." Was it? Good to know! And so fandom as a whole I think plays them as more toxic and dysfunctional than the show thought they were (mixed in with good old fashioned character bashing).

How I would change it:

FWB arc is fine. I really have no issues. Maybe throw in a scene for Cameron like Chase got in Fetal Position implying she is catching feelings (and doesn't like it), just because we're supposed to believe she has them but most fan's takeaway is "she could not care less about Chase, why are they dating now?"

Move The Itch to S4, or replace it with something similar. No problem with the episode at all, but we want to remind people they're dating. Or do the Birthmarks thing and have them just inexplicably hanging out in the ER all day. S5 does a better job at this, but S4 is weird.

Because The Itch is in S4, give them a new subplot in S5. Crucially, Chase gets to be the focus of this episode. Maybe he is upset about something and freezes Cameron out (foreshadowing his reaction after Dibala). Chase ends up coming off as Boyfriend Of The Year with his complete understanding of/patience for Cameron's issues, so Cameron here gets to be the supportive girlfriend. We get to see what they both provide for the other, and we get to see Chase screw up/be a bad boyfriend/Learn and Grow too.

We rewrite Saviors a little. Take out the "she's in love with House" bits, because even the episode doesn't really take that idea seriously, it's clickbait. Have Cameron be the one to propose, not ask Chase to do it after he already dumped her; basically, have her put herself out there as an active figure and not a Passive Receiver Of Relationships.

In the Dibala aftermath, make Cameron more active. She really goes a month without questioning Chase's obvious mental breakdown. I can buy she's trying to give him space, but say that. Have her call him out, have her try to support him, have her use her brains and ask questions about Dibala, poke around. Maybe she thinks Chase feels responsible for Dibala's accidental death. In Teamwork, have her and Chase talk. He tells her he wants to stay on the team and she goes and breaks up with House. Come on. Give them some ugly last fight. You could push a bunch of the Lockdown stuff in here: have Chase hit below the belt with "obviously you're leaving me, you've wanted to from the start." This is their "yelling in the clinic" moment, they're breaking up.

Completely re-write Lockdown. We're not retconing the entire relationship to make Cameron the villain, guys :( Have her bring up reconciliation (she never lets anything go… except her marriage, apparently), have Chase be reluctant. She's like no, it'll be fine! and he asks her if she's really okay with what he did and she has to admit that she isn't. She suggests maybe they can be, but they know it's impossible. You can keep the bittersweet ending, the clinic sex etc. They do love one another still, but neither of them can get over Dibala, and so they can't be together, and that's sad.

[tylwer34567]

RGB Villians Headcannons

Since I'm on Christmas break and it's the end of the year, I wanted to end the year with Real Ghostbusters content that can keep me entertained (and hopefully others). So I'm doing this thing where I give the villians some headcannons. Credits to @silentshayshores-2 as I used their Headcannon Prompts template as a basis for this. I'll also include additonal notes for stuff that wasn't included in/me blabbering about the character. This , along with the upcoming posts, are open to discussion, so other's headcannons for a particular and suggestions for other ghosts/villians (even the less talked about) are welcomed. Also N/A is when I can't think of an answer to a prompt's question.

The Boogieman/Boogeyman

1. How do they feel about people shorter/taller than them? Boogey loves being taller than others, especially if they're his victims. Being tall makes him feel powerful (it also inflates his ego). If another ghost or being happen to be taller than Boogey (even by just an inch), he would be embarrassed and try to get the nearest source of fear to chug on, just to get a growth spurt

2. What are they like on social media? (What’s their username, profile pic, etc.) He's a boomer guys But seriously, if Boogey did use social media, he would be one of those fear mongering, drama obsessed YouTubers (*cough* Keemstar *cough*)

3. Their sexuality? Guy's definitely not straight that's for sure (in my humble opinion)

4. Preferred weather? Dark cloudy

5. What’s their sleeping schedule? He sleeps/semi-hibernates throughout the day and wakes up to do his business during the night

6. Favorite music? He strikes me as the type of person who has no true preference when it comes to music. One minute, he would love jazz, then the next he would be into heavy death metal

7. How’s their cooking? What cooking?

8. It’s movie night, what movie do they pick? Nightmare on Elm Street

9. How would they hold up in a pillow war? Boogey would destroy the war before it officially starts. By the time he's done, it would be a pillow massacre

10. What’s their sleeping position? Starfish position

11. Who do they go to for comfort? He doesn't like to admit it, but he goes to Samhain when he's upset after being captured and placed into the Ecto-Containment Unit. He sees Samhain as his true equal

12. Something small that they enjoy? The taste of someone's fear

13..How do they feel about physical contact by others? He doesn't enjoy the feeling of touch due to lingering pains from the proton streams

14. What is enough to bring them to tears? Probably Egon's death. Not because he cares about him, but because he's addicted to his fear.

15. Biggest pet peeve? When people spell his name wrong. He personally spells it as 'Boogieman', but it misspell by others as 'Boogeyman', 'Bogeyman', or even Bogart

16. How well do they take care of themselves? Pretty well. Boogey loves to pamper himself and he takes pride in looking his best to scare children

17. What’s something they like that may be surprising to others? All of the other ghosts in the Unit were surprised to find that he enjoys putting on makeup

18. Do they consider others family? He considers his minions to be like his wards, though this doesn't stop Boogey from being constantly frustrated by their incompetence

19. Any bad habits that they have? Everything

20. What’s their idea of a perfect vacation? A interdimensional resort where he could have a spa day

21. Do they get lost easily? Will they ask for directions if they are? No. But if he were to get lost, he would be too stubborn to ask anyone for help

23. The strangest thing they have ever seen? One day while testing his doors, he found one that when opening it reveal what seemed to be a dimension filled with strange colours and even more stranger wet noises echoing the area. Then he saw something he should not have and promptly close it.

24. How well do they accept advice? Boogey hates people giving him advice as it makes him feel as if he was treated like a child. Not even Samhain can give him advice without receiving a side eye.

25. How much do they swear? Boogey is 100% absolutely capable of swearing. Most people, including the Ghostbusters, think that he can only curse in a Saturday morning cartoon villain way (nincompoop, fool, etc). Boogey loves seeing people's reactions where he starts saying every swear word in the book.

26. How do they take advice given to them? He promptly throws it in the garbage

27. Do they like being in pictures? At parties he host, yes. By a human who caught him, no.

28. Is there anything they’re bad at? Bad at killing the Ghostbusters

29. What’s their morning schedule? See Question 5

30. Any past injuries? Although he heals quickly, he suffers from chronic pain thanks to the Ghostbusters' proton beams

31. Something that disgusts them? N/A

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

Additional Notes

First Impressions: I really did not know what to expect. Before I even started watching the series on the Internet Archives, I kept getting recommendations for the Boogieman Cometh after watching Phelous' Real Ghostbusters videos. Imagine trying to find a video to watch and all you see is this Joker looking monster staring at you like he's contemplating about whether to eat you or not

Latest Impressions: OMG IT'S THE CLOSET GUY! IT'S BEST BOY! HE'S BACK!

Favorite Fanfictions Featuring Them: Where do I even start? Ok, there's Impossible Monsters by Robyn which is more like a Peter x Egon fic primarily, but Boogey does appear in it, starved and trying to get Egon to feed him (him starving is a popular trope for some reason). It's an old fic, but people have saved it thanks to the Archives

Link to fic: https://web.archive.org/web/20010221074014/http://web.wt.net/~myoll/im.HTM

There's my personal favorite RGB fanfic Perfect World by notgeorgelucas that's about the gang becoming rich and having perfect lives after the Containment Unit exploded. However (Spoiler Alert), it turns out that they along with everyone else were stuck in a dream created by the Sandman, who worked with Boogey and Samhain to escape in the first place. One thing that I love about this fic is how everyone is not really written the same. Here's some examples of what I mean:

“A brief struggle proved that they were too evenly matched, and so the Sandman instead proposed they pool their resources into escaping together. The Boogeyman, pathetically eager in his desperation to be free from these sterile confines, quickly agreed. Samhain, aloof and disdainful, considered the matter briefly and gave a quick nod of his pumpkin head.” and “After he was finished, the Sandman watched as the Boogeyman trotted upstairs on his twisted, hoofed legs, cackling insanely to himself as he searched for the nearest portal to his kaleidoscopic universe. Not surprisingly, Samhain was already gone to wherever he belonged. And good riddance, the dream master thought with a nervous nod of his oversized head; the living manifestation of Halloween had made him distinctly uncomfortable with his quiet, watchful ways.”

I just love how Boogey acts in the fic in general. He's clearly shown to be restless and needing to break free. It gets to the point of him canabilizing other ghosts in the Unit to feed as well as gain more power. He eagerly accepts Sandman's proposal and even put himself in harms way by letting the Ghostbusters blast him while Sandman use the oppertunity to put them in their restless slumber. He's won, albeit with help from Sand and Sam, but he was now finally free to do whatever he wanted to; to go back home, to feast on children's fears. He's finally free.

But it wasn't meant to last forever. Beacuse Sandman placed everyone and I mean everyone in an eternal slumber where they had happy dreams. No tormet, no sorrow, no fear. Boogey basically starved himself in this story. The worst part was that he had no one to turn to; he couldn't just ask Sandman to change it all back to normal and Samhain would have scoff him in his face and probably call him weak. The only person he could have gone to was ironically Egon. And he did so, yet everytime he entered Egon's dreams he would lose a huge chunk of power and Egon would wake up before anything else happened. That is until Egon finally open it. But by that point, Boogey's energy was gone and he was but a husk of himself:

"But the amusement faded when he saw what lay on the floor beside the open closet door.

It was waxy white, shriveled and trembling feebly as it hunched into a fetal position. Its clothing was ratty and threadbare, swallowing up the wearer with room to spare. Once‑glossy, ebony hair sat splattered on the sweat‑drenched forehead. And between horrible moans and sobs, one could just barely make out the words “help … me…”"

And so, Boogey dies, not with a bang, but with a whimper, surrounded by his enemies who ironically would not have escaped their dreams if it weren't for him.

You can tell that I love this fanfic Anyways here's the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42946674?view_full_work=true

The Wrong Closet to Enter by The Notorious Cyber Rex: Just a short, but cute fic about a girl named Diana being a nuisance to Boogey. Won't spoil it, but its funny and according to one comment it makes Boogey "look more adorable". Link here: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/4960110/1/The-Wrong-Closet-to-Enter

And finally there's An Option of Last Resort by Omorka: I love the concept of the Ghostbusters dealing with zombies in the apocalypse. But I also love that Boogey in this fic is just... drunk:

"Ray came off the basement stairs at a run, skidding to a halt in front of the window into the containment unit. Currently, it held the snoring form of the Bogeyman; its tongue lolled out of its mouth alarmingly.

“Oh, wow,” Ray breathed, “I bet that much fear, the whole island all at once, got through the containment field.”

One huge yellow eye opened and rolled around twice before focusing on Ray. “Indeed,” the Bogeyman answered; it sounded drunk, or perhaps hung over.

Egon folded his arms across his chest and snorted derisively. “From feast to famine, then.”

“That, too.” A huge blue tear welled in the corner of the open eye and dripped into the Bogeyman’s jacket collar. “Alas.”" Link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503724?view_adult=true

Favorite Ships: Boogey x anyone in general would be very cracky, but still I must ship. My main OTP for Boogey is him with Samhain (I created ship names for them like Bamhain and Fearful Autumn). They would act like a old married couple arguing about whose plan is better or what, but then would act sweet and wholesome when no one's looking. Then there's Boogey x Egon who I gave the ship name Begon. This ship is mostly for the lols and crackshipping, but its' funny to imagine a fanfic where Egon fake dates with Boogey just to show his family that the monster in his closet was real.

Favorite Images:

Song That I Associated with Them: Puttin' On the Ritz (Both by Fred Astaire and Taco)

Something I Don't Like About Them: Why was he green and orange in the NOW Comics. WHY?!?

Fun Facts:

Not only does he shares the same voice actor wit Ray, Slimer, and the Sandman, but also Fred Jones from Scooby-Doo, Megatron from Transformers, and lots of random animals in a bunch of cartoons.

He's named Fula Gubben (The Ugly Man) in the Swedish dub.

He's one of the few villains to refer to a Ghosbuster to his given name as he says Egon's name twice in The Boogeyman is Back.

His voice in the Boogeyman is Back is slightly different than in The Boogieman Cometh.

In The Boogeyman is Back, his eyes are shown to have a tint of white light (probably because he's using his powers to feed off of fear.)

He's referenced in Extreme Ghostbusters yet never appears in person.

He appears in the IDW comics as Rodefhiri, the first recorded Bogeyman, forces the Ghostbusters to face their deepest fears.

He orginally had a much different design than the final and ironic look he's known for today.

Final Statement: 100000/10. Best goat boy and best Ghostbusters villain Sorry Gozer

[peaceofthespirit]

I know I mostly got away from this discourse after deleting twitter but I saw an instagram post from an "inclusive orthodox" type episcopal church upset that the church doesn't strongly proclaim that jesus is the son of god/a literal physical resurrection enough. first of all, I don't think there is a shortage of people who believe/claim this in the church?? but also it drives me nuts to see them say stuff like "without this our faith isn't worth it" like ???

I am naturally a skeptic, maybe it's my brand of autism or whatever. To me, Christianity is about God transforming the world through Jesus. Christianity did not die with Jesus, but continues on. You can't kill the holy spirit! That's the "miracle."

Like I personally believe in a spiritual resurrection (as in probably not the same physical body, but rather a spiritual encounter that seemed physical). To me God is not "supernatural," but rather the being that encompasses all of nature. To me, miracles are science that we are too limited to understand. maybe influenced by god, but they still follow the ways the universe works (even if we don't understand it!) We have lots of anecdotal data about experiences with lost loved ones but not about physical resurrections where someone was literally incapable of still being alive.

Idk it's fine to believe what you want about the resurrection but the problems with the church have a lot more to do with wealth and power and complacency than these specific semantics in theology. My unorthodox theology has enabled far more productive conversations about faith with atheists and agnostics who are uninterested in a church that doesn't take skepticism seriously than those who stick to literalism as dogma. Literalism especially scares me because to me it assumes us humans can fully determine or have access the truth, which for me is far too close to what toxic evangelicals believe (and I was raised in that religious environment).

I recognize that belief in a literal, physical resurrection can be inspiring for people and deeply transformative. That's wonderful! But it just doesn't work like that for me, I tried for years to force myself to believe in it and the idea that I "had to" never sat well with me. I also prayed on it, because my relationship with God is indeed very real! So I interpret the creeds differently because of this, but I say them in church every time the same as any other episcopalian. It's frustrating to see that people who disagree with me would often rather have me leave the church rather than encourage diversity of theology and discussion that would probably bring more people into the church.

I guess I also don't see the church as the savior of everything... I'm far more interested in evangelism that is interfaith and based on a revolution of values - translating the values of Jesus and other religions / kindred secular movements into something that anyone from any walk of life or level of skepticism feels they can embrace for personal and societal transformation. That's how we can work with God right now to bring about the "Kingdom of God."

(Disclaimer: I'm not saying all religions are the same, they do often have different focuses, but I think they each have important insights and values within).