#jakie answers stuff

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Is yugo a proshipper/neutral? Genuine question because they’ve done some… questionable things in the past (shipping frans, using slurs they can’t claim in a comic (the f slur).

I mean I came across a post that said they were pretty chill with someone shipping epic with freaking Xgaster in march of this year and I was like??????? (Dude?? 1. That guy is an alternate version of your abusive father. 2. He’s basically Cross’s father (y’know your canonical best friend?)  who also abused by him. like what????)

(here the link btw https://www.tumblr.com/yugogeer012/745992208927293440/im-very-interested-in-how-yugo-reacts-to-the-fact?source=share )

And I find it weird that they seem to chill about that, but if you try and bring up epic in any way possible they lose it since they have unbridled hatred towards him and his fans. (bonus points when someone talks about shipping epic and cross, heck shipping epic with anyone male tends to make them annoyed, despite some early art depicting epic FLIRTING WITH METTATON) 

(also here the link: https://www.tumblr.com/sanicpluushy/761634810556039168/can-we-see-epicsans-flirtin-i-do-imagine?source=share ,

and my thoughts : https://www.tumblr.com/talonsirgo/761779011986800640/this-is-even-funnier-when-you-scroll-down-to?source=share)

I'm pretty sure they wiped Epic and his papyrus out of the comic just so they wouldn't have to deal with them anymore.

At this point i've already blocked them for their hostility towards all things epic/epic being gay/shipping him with xgaster and the whole frans stuff. I mean dude, even comyet is grossed out by anyone trying to ship ink with a gaster or his fathers (who are gasters and aren't even related by blood. Not that it matter tho, it's stil gross).

Come on yugo. You're better than this

(oooh btw did you se my where i @ you?? I found some pretty interesting analysis on cross thats been agreed upon by jakie herself, unfortunately it was done by the creator of dreamswap eugh.)

I don’t know if they are or not, because shipping Frans (or used to) and using f slurs while they actively seem to really really hate any gay ships but is very okay with lesbian ships seems a little strange. Potentially fetishizing perhaps, although maybe they’re just annoyed if they were constantly bombarded with sans x sans questions and stuff.

I don’t know Yugo, haven’t finished reading any of the Epictale content and i haven’t scrolled all through the blog, so I can’t say for sure. Maybe someone with more knowledge on this can chime in.

Although, after reading one of the links you sent me, i think you might’ve misread something.

The asker and yugo didn’t say they shipped Epic x XGaster or were okay with that, they say were okay with Epic Gaster x XGaster. No alternative sons being shipped with alternative fathers, although DILFs (im using this word just because they are both fathers not because i personally want to fuck them 💀) who are the same person are being shipped and yugo at least doesn’t mind or doesn’t care.

I don’t know what their issue is with their own characters and people liking them, but I think yugo probably needs to set some boundaries with fans if they haven’t already.

rather than getting annoyed when people inevitably ship best friends and one of them is their character who they make flirt with men, perhaps they should just ask people to not send them questions about sans x sans ships, or crepic if it really makes them that uncomfortable. and if anyone does, just delete the asks or comments or reblogs.

getting annoyed when people bring up or ask about the characters you made seems pretty strange to me, it’s just a sign that people really like your character enough to be obsessed with them, but i can understand if they got annoyed if epic was all anyone focused on and not any of the other characters. but in that case, they should probably just delete anything they get about epic (from fans) they don’t want to see or answer.

but to allow your emotions and fans like of your character to cause you to change a story, or erase or get rid of the character, just to spite the fans/character or just so you don’t have to deal with them seems very odd to me. perhaps yugo needs to take a step back from the Epictale “fanbase” and stop engaging with it.

they can’t control what fans do with their work and characters as soon as it leaves their own eyesight, and they’d be better off not stressing over it. and fans should respect them, and stop bringing fandom stuff to them like ships or asking their opinions on ships—no one needs a creator’s opinion on a ship.

epic is a different thing, since he’s literally a character in the story, and a sans at that—which of course means people will bring him up and ask about him. if they don’t want to answer anything about epic, they should make that very clear and then don’t answer. Not answer just to give annoyed, passive aggressive replies. I think it’s sad when creators allow a fanbase to taint and affect their feelings about their work.

{ @talonsirgo }

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (24.2)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, polyamory, fluff, mentions of character's death

A/N: This is an interlude chapter.

Indecent Proposal (24)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

Now, the mansion…

“You promised to make things up to me,” you pout and give Steve the stinky eye. “Talk is cheap. I want your cocks.”

You wanted to go down and dirty, but Steve and Bucky wished to talk to you first. Now you’re sitting in the armchair at the library, Alpine in your lap, looking like a villain in a movie while patting the cat.

“You will have to make a lot up to me and Alpine,” you hold Bucky’s gaze. “You worried the poor cat. I had to brush their fur and give them a new necklace to calm the Alpine.”

Steve grins at your serious expression. “Doll, we are sorry about worrying you. And I will give you everything you want tomorrow. For tonight, we need to talk about a few things. We promised you to tell you everything.”

“We want nothing more than to ruin you all over again,” Bucky smirks when you start to squirm in your seat. “Steve is right, though. We need to talk about a few things, and after, we need a rest. It was a fucking long week.”

“You’re not hurt, right?” You look Bucky up and down before turning your head toward Steve. “Right? Everyone came home safely. All of your men too.”

“No one got hurt, doll,” Bucky assures you. “Our men know how to handle any situation. Jake localized Brock’s hideout, and we stormed the house. Not a big deal.”

You listen closely, hoping Bucky is telling you the truth. He gives you a soft smile and runs his hand over your head, but you won’t let him distract you this time.

“Is that the truth? We didn’t lose anyone. They are all safe,” you press on. “You won’t lie to me.”

“We swear, no one got hurt but the bastard trying to hurt you and our babies,” Steve softly says. He cups your face to press a kiss on your forehead. “They are having food at the moment. M’Baku was hungry.”

You giggle. M’Baku seems to be always hungry. Ever so often, you made a sandwich for the tall guy too when you sneaked into the kitchen for your nightly cravings.

He’s a giant, but a friendly one. M’Baku told you about his family and the woman he wants to marry. For a member of the mafia, he’s pretty nice.

You sigh, relieved. No one got hurt, everyone came back alive. The danger is over. – For now. You never know. In your husband's line of business, you’ll never not be in danger. They have enemies lurking in the dark, waiting for their chance to get back at Steve and Bucky.

“I want to know it all,” you say. “No more secrets, Steve, Bucky. Please fill me in. I need to know.”

“We killed Rumlow and disposed of his body,” Bucky hastily says. He hopes you do not hate him for killing another man in your name. “He died faster than he deserved.”

“He won’t cause trouble ever again,” Steve clears his throat. He can see the worry in your eyes and tries to assure you no one will ever find out Bucky killed Brock. “Natasha helped cover his death. We made it look like he left town because Natasha found out that he was a corrupt cop. Jake was a big help. Remind me to never mess with Jake Jensen.”

“Jakie is a sweetheart,” you coo. “He distracted me with zombies and explained to me how he hacks into a system.”

“Zombies?” Bucky grunts. “He showed you zombies. Is that a code word for his dick?” He cocks a brow. “Doll, answer me.”

“No, dummy,” you giggle and snort. “He designed a video game. There are zombies, and guns…and stuff. It’s pretty cool. Jake is a smart guy. You should pay him more.”

Steve laughs at his husband’s pissed expression. He can’t bear sharing your attention with someone else but Steve. Bucky hums and plans on having a serious conversation with Jake in the morning.

“Don’t put, Bucky baby,” you hold out your hand for Bucky. “You know I already got my hands full with you and Stevie. I cannot handle another man. Jake is only a nice guy helping not to worry about you.”

“Fine,” Bucky still pouts, but promises you to not hurt Jake.

“How about we forget about Brock and everything else for tonight and,” you smirk at Steve, “in the morning, you can make things up to me…”

Part 25

Tags in reblog.

[chonnysinferno]

to clarify its not that consuming bugs is fun for me i eat three foods its using controversial/jaki (gross) metaphors means that i have to be like "ou i mention this thing". whatever

also you've probably seen the most cause tallyhoot

yea found the post i mwan i wasnt assuming you enjoy eating bugs you can write stuff and not enjoy it urself

also to the other posts YES i will get t o them when i have time + you requested it at like. 4 am in the morning (i am snoozing my ass off) which means i could not reqpond to any of them and i do not promise that i wont forget about these requests so some of them will stay unanswered & ill probably do the bfdi requests first because object show characters are easier for me to do since they are objects & i dont have a concrete soul design on me so ill have to make something ont he fly for the soul saying something weird and heart looking extremely comfortable ask. this is not me being mad im just addressoing everything in one ask because i cant really answer the requests rn because i havent finished making them (or startedfor that matter) but i do have something today that will take up most of theday (i think (they came home at like 10 pm yezsterday so im betting theyll do the same today)) and so i wont be at home to access my tablet and so i wont be able to dothe requests i will try to get to them when i can. alright

also yes i do like bfdi aolso the last part of that ask is very nice. they included the host in their nicknames ,,..,,. if this answer comes off as mad its probably because i am mad. but not atyou im just madfrom yesterday and i need to kill someone. also i have a tendency to overexplain things okay bye

[nananarc]

Tag People You Want to Get To Know Better!

Tagged by @breadboyayay . I love industrial too! Will check out those!

Favorite Color: Black and Hot Pink, and also Purple, and also any pastel colors, and also any neon colors.

Currently Reading: Metamorphosis and I'm trying really hard to get through it, not because it's hard to read but because my brain doesn't like reading text most of the time.

Last Song:

Last Movie: Raya and the Last Dragon. And i was vocal on here about how much I hate it lel. Well to be fair I watched because I know I would hate it.

Last Series: Ted Lasso. And I was vocal on here about how much I love it and I cry about it a lot.

Sweet, Savory, or Spicy: Spicy. My hot tolerance level isn't as it used to be, but I still like spicy stuff.

Craving: something crunchy and deep fry. maybe bánh tôm (shrimp chips?)

Tea or Coffee: I like both because I'm Vietnamese lel. Tho I get jittery very easily to coffee so I don't drink much. For tea, I only like Vietnamese, Chinese, Taiwanese teas. I detest all English teas, thank you very much.

Currently Working On: ... I'm an artist I have about a thousand wips always on standby lmao. But ig if I have to answer, it'll be stying basic vector animation for a com.

Tagging: @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @darjeelinh @alienturnip @cobaltsunflower @merge-conflict @quaddmgd @milkspilled @theviridianbunny @roofgeese

[revolutionsoftheheart]

elizabeth/henry + 19!

19. Kisses because I don’t want you to go and maybe I can convince you to stay just a few minutes longer

Thanks for sending a prompt! I was super excited to receive something for Elizabeth and Henry. (I’m sure this isn’t what you had in mind though…)

Warning: Angst ahead.

They’ve argued over this particular topic countless times – have disagreed since Henry first brought it up and, even on that end, they can’t agree. He insists she’s the one who started the conversation that first time. (She’s since forgotten how it started.)

The disagreement is far from a first for their relationship. Though scary and hurtful at times, challenging each other is one of the many ways they’ve kept the flame alive all these years. They knew the last time the subject was brought up that it wouldn’t be the last they heard of it – though this time, it very well may be – and even now, as she lays barely moving in this uncomfortable bed, wearing a teal gown that does very little to help her complexion, Henry insists on contradicting her.

Elizabeth wishes he’d stop fighting it. She had. She’d come to accept that every day could be her last – their last – even though she was stubborn enough to last a month longer than the doctors predicted.

“Don’t give me that look,” comes the gruff voice on her left, as Henry pushes himself up from the chair he’d occupied all morning, groaning when his joints crack in protest. She hopes he didn’t spend all night sleeping in that awful position; they’re not 50 anymore. He can’t just sleep anywhere he wants. (She knows he did.)

She plays along, offering a weak, “What look?”

He stands by her side, palms coming to rest on arm. His hands are warm, just like she remembers. “That ‘I think today’s the day’ look.” His gaze finds hers, eyes filled with equal measures of reassurance and worry. “I told you – you’re not leaving this world before me.”

Elizabeth chuckles at his insistence – every day, the same obstinate refusal to see her go first – but even the short laugh is enough to send a new wave of pain down her chest. She coughs, violently, and it hurts everywhere. Her eyes shut; her teeth clench. His right hand cups her nape, supporting her head, while the thumb of his left brushes comforting circles on the skin of her arm.

It’s a few scary minutes in which she knows he’s holding his breath before the coughing subsides, but it does. He wipes the sweat off her brows, his touch gentle and caring. When she feels strong enough, she whispers, “I think you’ll lose this one,” and for the first time, he doesn’t rebut her.

That alone tells Elizabeth more than she needs to know about her current state.

Henry kisses her forehead, then her nose, her cheek. “I’ll make sure you stay with us until the kids arrive,” he says, and she nods, before he pecks her lips one last time.

There’s no need to argue over that.

(Feel free to send more kissing prompts.)

[undead-gearhead]

Spoiler! :D ♥

All James saw was misty woods, grey and bleak as the sun had started to set. He couldn’t even see the orange property line markers that showed where the Givens’ property ended and the wild woods started. He was lost.

[meursaulty]

studying under each of the arcanum scholars is like... [hcs]

sometimes i forget that the arcanum is wizard college lol

the game just gives you ione as an advisor/mentor figure by default, and don't get me wrong, i love her, but i feel bad about ignoring the others. SO... please accept my humble offering of hcs (longish post):

qyburn stellargaze

i'm sorry but he seems like the type of guy to give you stuff like this

you ask him what he wants from you by the end of the week and he gives you 4 different, contradictory answers

but honestly he doesn't care as long as you have something at the end of the week

is one of those professors that cancels class bc they don't want to teach that day

he's disorganized, but it's really because he just has so many projects going on at once, even with your help. he does still want you to actually learn though... he can go on for days answering almost any question you have about astral magic and celestian history/culture if you're just straightforward about it

baba yaga

also a little disorganized, but more on the side of chaotic than forgetful

often contacts you 5 mins before your arranged meeting time telling you to meet her in some other world so she can show you a spell

*gives 50 assignments* *complains about having to grade them all* *proceeds to drop half of them because she doesn't think they're useful anymore*

would give your grade a phat curve at the end just for funsies 🤪

if your wizard is from earth, she would love to hear what children's/folk tales you remember

has made mellori guest lecture at least once (even though it's all stuff you already know, having graduated from ravenwood)

her classes aren’t necessarily difficult, just verrryyy confusing at times. somehow, you still make it out just fine and manage to have a good time?? cyrus drake could NEVER

ignus ferric

lets you work the forge of legends for extra credit but still makes you buy the recipes full price (reagents are pricey and he's gotta fuel his own work somehow)

most of your work with him is helping him develop new spells

likes to go around the arcanum with you to check on the other scholars in the name of ~interdisciplinary study~ ... really more of a social call but whatever

sometimes gives you tasks that are very sketchy in terms of safety. no he hasn't tested them himself. but he'll do them with you!! pyromancers burn bright when they work together!

he's generally one of the more lighthearted scholars, but he'll take it down a notch and be real with you should the situation call for it. pep talks, the cold hard truth, whatever you want...

ione virga

she's intense as a mentor - she likes original work so a lot the time you spend under her is exploring uncharted territory in the field of divination

a harsh grader... you're gonna have to sell your soul for an a

but she isn't tough without reason! she just has high standards, a reputation to uphold, and she wants you to do your very best

growth mindset girlie -- really, she isn't out to get you. she wants you to learn from your mistakes. resilience and problem solving are as important as the magic when it comes to her teaching

she lets up a little by the end of your term, because she knows she isn't easy on you

says she doesn't take late work but she actually does as long as she hasn't gotten around to grading yet anyway (just don't tell anyone or she'll change the policy)

jaki whisperwind

as long as you leave her tutelage having learned something, she's happy

will draw you multicolored diagrams, give demonstration upon demonstration, and explain theories and concepts in 759487 different ways if it means getting you to understand

aesthetically, she's like one of those Pinterest Teachers, but in practice she's actually bearable -- positive, but not in a toxic way

she doesn't believe in grades lol. she will literally give you an a for effort

but she's big on mutual respect. you have to fulfill your duties as a student just as she fulfills hers as a teacher. you can't just do the bare minimum and expect to pass (because you won't)

gives bonus points if you bring her a souvenir from unicorn way

qismah shasa

qismah has the most traditional style of teaching

she of course still has the arcanum flair for making you go out on your own and get practical experience, but solo adventures would be bookended by preliminary research and formal written reports/presentations

^ which you already kinda do in canon at the end of worlds

she makes you edit and revise your reports a million times before your final submission, which is annoying but actually quite helpful for your future work

keeps copies of your best work on the shelves in her office

she comes off pretty serious and focused, but if you're both free, she'll gladly welcome you into her office and tell you stories about mirage or the history of her various decorations/trinkets

tarrak hadfield

proud supporter of hands on experience - whether that's sending you out to face some creature or just sparring with him in a practice room

likes exploring the extremes - how much damage can you do (offensive) and how little can you take (defensive)?

you don't have to do much written work for him. what he really wants to see is improvement in how you perform magic, so most of your grade comes from the aforementioned hands on experience

he doesn't feed you answers. he wants you to assess your own strengths/weaknesses before he tells you them to make sure you're thinking critically about what you're doing. basically, you dictate what would otherwise be your written work

sets aside days to spend outside doing a non-magic/non-combat activity like climbing to keep some variety

velma von venkman [credit to @wizzycore for this dynamic]

velma barely has any pull at the arcanum (src) so you can bet that if you were studying under her, you'd be doing the grunt work with her... she would probably still be trying for her tenure while having you as a student

this means following her around to some pretty nasty places and defeating various creatures/collecting shadow essence to study instead of just reading about said creatures

can't rely on existing research if you are the research

working with her would feel more like a group project at times - she gives you a lot of control over how to go about things

despite how she's mentoring you, she's still fairly new to the arcanum and would be very understanding if you needed an extension/day off ("sorry, velma. can't get my draft in today, new world-ending threat just came in" / "yeah that's cool just forward it to me when you can")

zander

he's one of those flipped classroom people, where you teach yourself most of the material and spend the time you have with him reinforcing it

because do you really want to sit through a telepathically delivered lecture...

a lot of the time he just tells you to go off and do something new/fun/comfortable before reporting back

but there is a point to it ^ he wants you to see firsthand how your own experiences play into the quality of your magic (e.g. what makes a spell really effective? what inner intention, linked to what feeling? then, how do you channel that intention in the future?)

he's more knowledgeable on the theories of theurgy than the combat skills that the savior of the spiral would need, so he teaches you attack spells, but sends you to practice them with another scholar or initiate

one of his class requirements is just sitting with him in his office and joining his meditation. it's actually very nice

[snothing]

Request: Drabble in which Jake looks through some old stuff and finds a rather odd yet captivating item: a red tunic with a green scaly leotard, a black-yellow on its right side, a black domino mask, green gloves and finally green pixie boots. he decides to try the suit on

I want to apologize for how long this took! I’ve been so busy with school, and I made this way longer and convoluted than necessary. It’s definitely not a drabble anymore, and I added a lot of sibling banter, lol, I can’t resist. This was so much fun to make, I had so many ideas. Thank you so much for being patient, and I hope you enjoy! 

I decided to deviate from my universe, while keeping some old things. Mar’i and Jake are still twins, and Mar’i can turn invisible.

"Go away, Jaki! This is my hiding spot!" Mar'i whispered-hissed at her brother. She glared at him through a jungle of coats and umbrellas in the armoire, her mouth in a tight frown.

"Oh, come on, Mar'i!" Jake cried. With a flair for the dramatic, he threw his hands up in the air. Of course, his annoying sister would take his favorite, top-secret hiding spot!

"Shhh!" she snapped, finger to her lips. Pink eyes flashed brightly at him. "Would you be quiet? Do you want Dad to find us?"

He pursed his lips and looked down the hall. Pretty soon, his dad would be done counting and be searching for them. Still, a great wrong had been committed in the eyes of Jake. "You took my hiding spot! Get out!" he seethed, just a decibel lower.

"Nuh-uh, it's not your hiding spot!" Mar'i shot back. "You don't own it!"

Jake smirked cockily and pointed a finger past her. "Uh, yeah, Mar'i, I do." 

A deep, unamused frown settled on Mar'i's face as she noticed— in bright cerulean blue crayon— the word "Jake" hastily scribbled on the panel. "That means nothing! You don't own everything you put your name on."

He silently raged. "How am I not surprised a heathen like you-"

"-Heathen?! I watched you squirt an entire can of Easy Cheese in your mouth!"

"That was a long time ago. I’m a different man now."

"It was last week!"

"As I said, a long time ago," he retorted drolly. "Anyway, as I was saying— only heathens don't respect the sacred rules of hide-and-seek!"

"You're so ridiculous," she sighed, exhausted. "You act like I broke the law."

"Well, you might as well have. I'm hurt, Mar'i, really I am. I never thought you'd betray me like this. My own flesh and blood— my wombmate--"

"Ew, don't call me that!"

He clasped his hands together. "I think the only way to solve this and mend our broken relationship is for you to leave and find a new hiding spot."

Mar'i stared blankly at him. Jake was her favorite person in the entire universe, but there were times where she wanted to slap him. "I'm not leaving, Jaki."

"By the love of X'hal, you can turn invisible!" he argued.

"So? Dad's using heat-sensing goggles this time."

"Mar'i!"

"Hey, babe," their father's voice filtered in from downstairs. They stilled, eyes wide and locked on each other. 

"Hello, my love. Are you looking for something?" they heard their mother ask him. 

"Oh you know, just for two half-human, half-alien eight-year-olds? Have you seen them? They're like yay-high, black hair with orange skin? Got glowing green eyes?"

"Oh," Kory chuckled. "I think I know the two. Say, are they dangerous?"

"Very. The little rascals will eat all your cereal and blame it on an innocent larva."

"My, they sound like quite the dastardly duo," she mused. "I believe I saw them go upstairs. Please, proceed with caution."

Dick let out a laugh. "Don't worry, babe. I think I'm well-equipped to handle them; Batman raised me after all."

Mar'i snapped back her attention to Jake, panicked. "Go away, Jaki!" she nearly growled. 

"But-" he tried to argue, but her hand shot out and closed the armoire door, effectively ending their discussion. 

Frantic, Jake looked around for a new hiding spot. Under his bed? No, there was a monster. Behind the house plants? Nope, too obvious. In the air vent? Nah, he'd get stuck again. Finally, his eyes found the inconspicuous attic door. 

He was like 90% sure it was haunted. Uncle Jay showed him and Mar'i a horror movie once, and he learned that attics were prime real estate for ghosts and couldn't be trusted. 

But...

It would probably be a great hiding spot. His dad wouldn't expect it. 

The creaking of the stairs interrupted his thoughts and effectively ended his inner turmoil. He dashed to the attic door and braved the darkroom. 

"Oh wow," he said, looking around. The room was cramped, littered with boxes and other knickknacks. Moonlight filtered in through the port window. "Okay, ghosts, listen. I don't mean to trespass or anything. I just need a place to hide from my dad, alright? So no possessing me, okay? I'll only be here for a couple of minutes."

Slowly, he made his way through the clutter, hoping to find a nice nook to squeeze in. A thick layer of dust coated everything in the room, and it was not long before he started hacking. It was then that his left foot hit a meddlesome snag in the carpet, causing him to plummet down on a pile of boxes. 

He let out a rather undignified squeak when his knee slammed into the ground. A flurry of Tamaranean curse words left his mouth; thank heavens, his mom was not around to hear him. "Stupid ghosts!" Jake spat. The crash was loud. His dad knew where he was now. "And stupid Mar'i for making me hide in this stupid, haunted attic!"

He went to glare at the confounding boxes, but he halted when he saw something interesting. His ire vanished, his head cocked slightly. He pulled himself up from the ground and went to analyze the contents of the fallen box closer, his hand alit with a low-energy starbolt.

Inside the unsuspecting box was a brightly colored uniform. Jake's eyes widened the size of saucers. Could this be? There was no way. But sure enough, he found the iconic scaly leotard and black domino mask. Yep, this was his father's old Robin uniform. 

He stared at the red tunic with the utmost reverence; his thumb traced the R. Jake was so absorbed in the costume he failed to notice his sister hovering over him. 

"Whatcha got there, Jaki?" she asked curiously, face inches from his.

He let out a squeal and jumped several feet in the air. He snarled, eyes ablaze in a blue fury. "Mar'i! Don't do that!"

She snickered, an eyebrow raised. "It's not my fault you're not observant."

"I was in stealth mode," he said defensively. He crossed his arms. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be hiding in my hiding spot?"

She shrugged. "Dad found me pretty quick, so I decided to come to bother you."

Jake was surprised. "Wait, do you mean he didn't hear me fall?"

"Nah, I told him you were being a cheater and hiding outside. Thankfully, you decided to be a klutz after he left," she informed him. She frowned when she noticed the betrayed look on his face. "What? I thought you'd be happy I saved you!"

"I think it's funny you pick and choose when to be a loyal sister."

She smiled. "Gotta keep you on your toes, Jaki. Now, what's that?"

Jake followed her pointed look at the costume. He showed her excitedly. "I think it's Dad's old Robin costume!"

Green eyes rounded. "What? No way!"

"Yes, way!" he dazzled. "Look at the insignia!"

"Whoa," she breathed. She fingered the black-yellow cape gingerly. Her head snapped up. "Come on, put it on!"

"W-what?" He gave her a bemused look. 

"I know you want to," she said wryly. She held up the tunic and pushed it towards her brother. "I bet you'd look just like dad."

"Yeah, but..." he trailed off. Honestly, he did not need much convincing. Jake had seen pictures of his dad in his early crimefighting days, but a thought stopped him. "I don't know, Mar'i..."

"Why not?"

"Well, Damian's Robin."

"And?"

"And I don't want to-- I don't know. I guess I don't want to send the wrong message," Jake answered. He sighed somberly. "Besides, it's not like I could ever be Robin anyway. I'm weird."

"What the heck?" Mar'i spluttered. "You think you can't be Robin because you have powers?"

"Robins don't have powers, Mar'i," he said, dejected. "They don't fly or shoot starbolts."

She snorted. She scooted closer to her twin, looking at him intently. "And? Anyone with a brave heart can be Robin, and as I can see, you have one."

"But-"

"No buts, Jaki," she cut him off. Mar'i was not going to allow her brother to put himself down. "I like you just the way you are. I think shooting starbolts and flying is super neat!"

"You're biased," he chuckled. Mar'i's words instantly made him feel better, though. 

Her mouth blossomed into a silly grin. "Well, yeah, duh. I know if I'm awesome, you have to be. Now, put it on!"

"Okay, but turn around. I need privacy!"

"Yay!" she piped before spinning around. Her arms and legs tingled with excitement.  

"Okay, I think I'm ready now," he told her, a bit apprehensive.

Mar'i whipped around, nearly knocking Jake down in the process. She almost burst out in awe when she saw him there, proudly donning their father's uniform. "Wow, Jaki! It looks so good on you!"

He flushed. His eyes, now concealed by a domino mask, peeked down at his body. It had been a bit awkward in some places; Jake did not care for his legs being so exposed, but otherwise, it fit like a glove. "Really?" he asked, swooshing his cape back and forth.

Her head bobbed up and down. "You look just like Dad when he was young!"

"What do you mean by that, Mar'i? I'm still young!" 

Jake and Mar'i were startled by the voice. They spun around in the direction of the attic door and spotted their dad: the first-ever Boy Wonder and best pancake-maker-this-side-of-the-galaxy-- Dick Grayson. 

"Dad!" the siblings exclaimed in perfect unison. 

Dick chuckled. "And what are you two glowsticks doing in the attic? I thought we were playing hide and-"

He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed Jake. His eyes widened as they absorbed, his mouth agape.

Jake panicked, and shame surged through him. "I'm sorry, Dad!" he said hastily. "I-I was just hiding upstairs a-and I fell a-and I found your old costume!"

"Jake-"

"A-and I knew I shouldn't have, b-but Mar'i said I should-"

Jake paused when he felt his father's hand on his shoulders. He looked up and met his father's loving gaze. "Jake, calm down," Dick comforted. "It's okay."

Jake swallowed. "You're not mad?"

"No, of course not, son," he responded, genuine. 

"Doesn't he look cool, Dad?" Mar'i piped up, a goofy grin on her face. 

Dick smiled tenderly and moved his hand to caress Jake's face. He could not have predicted what seeing his son wear his old Robin uniform would do to him. His heart soared with love and pride. 

"Yes, Mar'i, he looks pretty cool," he agreed. 

Jake beamed and matched his sister's goofy grin. He thought his dad would be mad at him, but thankfully, he was the furthest from mad. 

"But don't think this means you can go out crimefighting," Dick added quickly.

"Aww, Dad!" Jake whined.

Dick wagged his finger at him. "Don't 'aww, Dad' me! You may have the look, but you're not old enough."

Jake pouted. "I'm not a baby anymore, Dad!"

"Aww, but you're still my baby.” He gave Jake a quick kiss to the temple. “Now, come on, you two. Mom made dinner, and I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees you."

"Did she burn the food again?" Mar'i grimaced. She loved her mother dearly, but she was not the most adept in the kitchen.

"Yeah, I don't know if I can eat burnt lasagna again, Dad."

"Now, now, glowsticks. Mom spent all day working on this meal!" Dick assured them. He escorted them out of the attic. "It's a dish from Tamaran. I'm sure it'll be wonderful."

Mar'i whispered to her brother, "I like when Mom cooks. We always get McDonald's afterward."

"Or food poisoning."

[twilightprince101]

Packmates

So I've been needing to do some Flash Fiction stuff for my writing class recently and I've had this original idea in my head for a long while at this point. It was HEAVILY inspired by Lera Lynn's "Wolf Like Me" (thanks again Delta for showing me this album) and it's one of the few things I feel REAL proud putting out! So woe! Gay and depressed werewolves be upon ye!

“The Blood Moon draws near.”

“I’m ready.”

“You have said so often this night.”

“I’m aware.”

“Why do you repeat those words so?”

“Is ‘because you asked’ not the right choice?”

“There is a lack of conviction in your voice.”

“I’m tired, you know that by now.”

“But what is it you refer to?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Is it the exhaustion that comes from a great hunt, one that seeps through your limbs and gives you aches that spare your quarter?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Or is it the dreariness of fog that clouds your mind, seeps your vitality drop by drop until naught an ounce of bloodlust remains?”

“That too, I suppose.”

“...Your conviction wavers.”

“Can it not be both?”

“Exhaustion, though inconvenient, is a natural calling deep within oneself. It is a hunter’s blessing in disguise, as one cannot pursue their prey if not at full strength.  Dreariness is the fatigue of the soul, an infestation of hopelessness. Neither are permanent, though the latter plagues those inflicted with insidious thoughts.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“...no, I did not.”

“...”

“...Do you wish to rest before the hour comes?”

“Wouldn’t that be pointless? Considering ‘the gift’ and all that I’m going to get?”

“Perhaps, but have you not gone to great lengths to let me join in pointless activities with you over these long years?”

“.....well, can’t argue with that I guess.”

“Take reprieve in my fur, the wind bares its frost-bitten teeth this deep in the woods.”

“Oh yeah, I guess this’ll be the last chance we really get to do it like this huh?”

“Should you join us there shall be many chances. But yes, if you wish, this will be the last.”

“Yeah, thanks Katey.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...Do you remember what it’s like?”

“Hm?”

“Without fur, I mean. Do you remember what it feels like?”

“What thought led to this question?”

“I dunno, just…”

“...Echoes of memories come and pass, sensations of touch that are not there.”

“Do you miss it at all?”

“My memories have not faded, Jakie. Though they ebb and flow from my mind, they remain. I still remember it all.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that many times.”

“...I do remember that time long ago, when I did not bear this fur or wear these claws. I remember the cold that stung our skin, the scrapes and cuts that adorned our hairless hands.”

“Do you only remember the bad things? Or have those ebbed from your mind as well?”

“I recall them as well, Jackie. The feeling of grass pricking against our bare feet as we ran through these woods as one. The currents brushing against us as we fought the tides of the sea. I especially remember that day you had fallen into a gardener’s crop and had me accompany you in that mess you created.”

“Pfft, really now? That’s one of the things you still remember?”

“Though my mind has changed, my memories have not.”

“.....and?”

“While a part of me does reminisce of those days back home, this change of mine has given me new blessings. My claws assure me in the face of danger, my fur assures me in the face of nature. In my life, this is one of the few times I feel secure in myself.”

“Do you… feel better though? Happier? Will I feel...?”

“.........I cannot say.”

“...”

“...” “...”

“......my apologies. I have… ruined the mood, as I believe you phrase it.”

“No, no it’s okay… actually, now that I think about it, when did you first start getting so poetic?”

“Pardon me?”

“This whole... thing where you talk really fancy and in metaphors. I recognized you starting a while ago, but did you have to read through a dictionary? Or does transforming include suddenly becoming shakespearean?”

“I don’t believe that’s the right term, but yes, to my knowledge this happened gradually since I was given this gift.”

“So then, do you think when I transform tonight the same thing will happen to me? Like you bite me then I have all of medieval theater beamed into my head? Will I be The Shakespeare of Wolves?”

“It is likely, though I will not deny, it would be a shock. I have grown quite fond of the way you speak, compared to my packmates. It is akin to, say, witnessing a fish leap from a flowing stream.”

“You did that one on purpose, didn’t you?!”

“Perhaps I did, perhaps not~"

“Oooh you better watch out, when I join the pack I’m going to destroy you in the weekly poetry slams!”

“Heh, we do not have ‘slams of poetry’ where I will go. Most of our focus is turned to the hunt, though perhaps you could make a fine diplomat between packs.”

“Well, maybe I could bring poetry slams to the pack. We both could! You didn’t go to many but you still know what they’re like, what’s stopping us?”

“That would be… the moon. I do not believe recreation would become much of a priority to you once you shift tonight. Especially for you, considering the ritual.”

“Oh. Yeah, right.”

“...”

“.......”

“...........”

“...you can still leave Jakie.”

“You know I can’t.”

“And why is that?”

“You know why.”

“What of August, who had assisted us in Maplecrest? Or your bloodmate, here in Bloomfield?”

“It’s not me needing somewhere to go Kate. I know that they’d both welcome me back.”

“Then why do you persi-”

“I thought you said your memories were all still there.”

“...I have not forgotten our promise, Jakie.”

“Then you have your answer. I didn’t leave you back then, I’m not leaving you here.”

“...Jakie.”

“Don’t.”

“I am grateful for your assistance all these years, for your companionship. You have offered me comfort, companionship and assistance without question.”

“I said stop, Katie.”

“I shall always be grateful, however you must ask yourself whether or not you should continue to uphold these vows. If the Katie you loved--”

“What’s your problem?! I thought the whole thing with you is that you want to bite people, change people!”

“We do not offer this gift to all those we encounter. Only those who we find--”

“‘A spark of devotion,’ yeah I get it you’ve said that thousands of times already! So then why is it only with me you try to talk someone out of it?!”

“Beca-”

“And don’t say lack of conviction. I said I’ve wanted this for months now, that’s the whole reason we’re here!”

“...............”

“Well?!”

“I… ponder if you would believe me.”

“Spit it out.”

“...because I have always seen you as my packmate.”

“..............”

“...since my mind has changed, I have gained new desires. Whatever old ties I had have long been cut. Yet despite my change you’ve been by my side. My fur warms my body--you have warmed my soul, and that sensation shall never fade.”

“...you didn’t answer me.”

“......Should you accept my gift tonight you shall change eternally. Your conviction here lies with me, but should you accept our gift your soul will be tied to the hunt. I do not wish for you to change with your mind lingering on regrets of what could have been. I respect you as a packmate, Jakie. I wish for your choice to be true.”

“Don’t you get it? What I want is to be with you! You’re my friend, I’ve helped you all this time, I love you!”

“But through these years, have you been happy?”

“..........”

“You say this is your duty, it may be what you desire. But protecting me, has it made you happy? Can you look upon the fields of missed opportunities that have passed without a hint of longing?”

“............”

“I have never needed protection, you know as well as I. These past years of devotion, it has helped you survive. But what I yearn for is for you to live. Abandoning your own self… Do you believe you will be happy then?”

“...........”

“...........”

“.......god damn it. You never made things easy, did you?”

“I am who I am now, Jakie. I cannot give you more than that.”

“........I don’t want to leave you. I don’t even know if I can. I’ve spent so long helping you I don’t know if I… know anything else. What would I even do?”

“I… do not know. But I have seen your conviction these past years--you have several paths ahead of you. Whatever you may choose, I have faith in you. You shall always be my packmate.”

“.......yeah. Yeah…. Yeah.”

“..........”

“...............”

“...the Blood Moon has nearly reached its peak.”

“.......could we just sit together, just for a bit longer?”

“Of course.”

“....thank you.”

“.........”

“.........”

“.........”

“.........I love you, Katie.”

“I love you too, Jakie.”

[zwiezraczek]

6 + 1 Underground [Four x OC/reader] Chapter 4

SUMMARY: Sasha is a Polish girl, with a strange past. She has various skills, driving amongst others. So she becomes Eight. And you know that Four plus Four is Eight…

CHAPTER 1 - CHAPTER 2 - CHAPTER 3 - CHAPTER 4: Eight is a Troublemaker CHAPTER 5

Sasha learns that Easterners are troublemakers by nature.

WORDS: 2.6k

TAGLIST (if you want to be part of it, leave a comment! ^^) : @kingniazx​ @imjustboredso​

“A mini mission” as Four called it himself. Sasha looked at the blond man again as he casually snapped that in the middle of the meeting; nobody seemed to pick up on this, nobody was surprised. Sasha had to roll with it. She could feel Two's excitement as One explained that the next mission was held in Paris in order to gather some information, and as a French woman she couldn't hide her joy to be back in her motherland. And Paris, the city of love and pigeons as Two said herself, was an amazing city to visit when you had some time – before the mission obviously, because they had to work on everything once there.

This sounded dangerous and exciting, everything Sasha needed to make this work. She had waited for this for too long and now, only now, One was fulfilling his promise. The only thing she had to do? Drive. Drive around Paris as fast as she could, the best she could, not letting police get them. She could do that, she was Kubica for a reason. She didn't need to know what the real purpose of the mission was, One would explain later what these information were for, she only needed to know Paris in a short amount of time to be able to nail everything. And she would do it right.

One left her with Four, as the others had to prepare their own roles during the mission, Three and Two had to be sure about the passports and all the legal stuff while watching out for the men they were about to meet, One was still gathering proofs against the man he had to meet and how to get the information out of him and quickly all of this with Five's help as she looked into his family's health problems. The only reason Eight and Four were paired up was for the purpose of being effective while there, not allowing themselves an off-guard moment for the team's safety. And Four knew how important it was, and how it worked for them in Florence, just before losing Six. Something was off, and he could sense it, Six's presence still echoing in his mind as he prepared for the next mission. Because he could never get rid of Six in his own mind, Seven told him to not to because trying to forget it hurts much more than accepting, but Four's wounds were still fresh and as much as he wanted, he could not think about Six when he discussed with Eight about the plan.

“You're listening,” she asked him, tapping on a spot on the map in front of them as he only hummed. “So, if you stay on top of the Arc de Triomphe thing, you'll be able to tell me where the cops are coming from and which exit will be the best.”

“But I won't be able to climb up and down from there,” he answered, looking at her from under his hoodie.

“So you'll use stairs? Like normal people?”

“Shut up, no stairs for me,” he said, crossing his arms on his chest.

“But you'll have no other choice, you heard Two, you won't be able to jump from the middle of the Arc to another building,” her exasperation could be heard in her voice as she looked up at Two.

“I was on the top of the Duomo, I'll jump down from there too,” he stated, looking at the map now and watching the names of the streets.

“You're unbelievable, jaki glupek,” she whispered, hoping he wouldn't understand that she told he was a huge moron.

“We said no more using our mother tongues,” he said, frustrated because he couldn't understand Polish properly, for the moment. He sounded like a whining child.

“Do I look like I care?”

“Definitely should.”

“Okay, okay,” she finally agreed, putting her hands up in surrender. “So, I leave that to you for your location I just want you to be able to tell me where I can go or not, I'll mostly need a view on the Champs.”

“This whole Arc de Don't Care is a nightmare for a parkour expert!” he complained, putting his hand on the Place de l'Etoile. This location was definitely a nightmare, too wide, too open, Paris' architecture was too wide to jump from a building to another, especially in the places Sasha wanted to drive.

“Another bright idea then,” she teased, as some of her blond her fell off from her ponytail.

“Quartier Latin,” he said with the best French accent he could, with a smile on his face.

“You're joking, I won't be able to do anything from there.”

“I'm not joking, perfect place,” he assured as he came closer to her, putting a finger on the Quartier Latin. “Three can stand with a car on the Place de l'Etoile and block the police, until you go down there and I'll work my things up there.”

“You just want to see Notre Dame, don't you,” she asked, a grin on her face as he rolled his eyes.

“Just, leave it to me, I'm the expert here Eight. Trust me.”

“I'll trust you,” she promised. “I hope you won't fail your promise.”

“Never.”

They stood there, in silence, looking at the map for a long moment, Sasha trying to memorize the streets she would drive in, just because she wanted the mission to go as smoothly as she imagined it in her head. Two told her that she would take her on a small visit of Paris before the mission, but she wanted to impress the whole crew, showing that she could be useful, even more than what the could think. Her pride wanted to prove to them her worth, to show them that her fragile silhouette was only a facade, protecting her inner Kubica from being discovered. She wanted to impress more than anything.

“Don't die,” the words escaped from Four's mouth as Sasha still looked at the map. She rose her head towards him, he meticulously avoided her gaze as if it would hurt. As if he was truly hurt.

“What,” she whispered back, not truly understanding.

“I said what I said,” he couldn't repeat those words, it hurt too much. “Last time I built up a plan like this, I... We lost our driver, Six. I just don't want this to happen again,” he said, looking into her eyes now with pain, some kind of despair. Everything Sasha didn't knew he could convey through his gaze.

“I'll be fine,” she reassured him. “I'm called Kubica for a reason, Four.”

“Watch out your hand then, we never know if the curse is on you too,” he slightly joked before looking back at the map. She truly hoped he was right.

Looking up to the sky, looking up to her mother, Eight sat in front of her trailer, as usual now, her bare legs sunbathing. February, and it was so hot in here, no snow but dust, no ice but dust, no trees but dust. Nothing but dust. Her mind still healing from leaving her friends behind, leaving Marta and Piotr who became another family to her and now, now she had to build everything from scratches. Everything went well for the moment, the Ghosts being welcoming and caring, mostly Five being her anchor for the past months and Four from time to time, when they exchanged about their countries, joked about the lack of white Christmas, even listened to traditional music sometimes – when Four decided it wasn't the time to listen to The Score.

As she thought about how her life was fucked up now, she felt some shade on her legs, a small chill, goosebumps. She opened one eye to see Four, standing in front of her, his hoodie on his head and his hands in the large pockets he has. He smiled at her, as she groaned.

“Don't you see I'm in the middle of something right here,” she asked him sarcastically, protecting her eyes from the sun as she looks up at him.

“You seem extremely busy,” he emphasized. “I absolutely shouldn't disturb you to take you to this Eastern shop or whatever,” he finally mumbled, turning back as Sasha's mouth went agape.

“Fuck,” she swore when she heard Polish, “there is a fucking Polish shop right here? In the middle of this fucking desert?” Her excitement and surprise could be heard in her tone, as her eyes began to shine slightly. Four looked back at her, with a grin.

“Planning taking you there because you asked me how I managed to survive in here without real food,” he explained.

“You're an angel Four!” she exclaimed before standing up. “Wait a minute, I'm taking my sunglasses and my wallet and to the shop we go!”

“Waiting here then.”

She clapped her hands in excitement as she went in her trailer, looking for the glasses Five gave her one day as she saw her struggling with the whole sun situation, because Sasha never wore sunglasses, never really needed these. But here, everything was different. And she needed sunglasses. Her wallet in her pocket now, Four and her got to the small car the Ghosts owned, making sure that nobody saw them going out – they would deal with responsibilities later, and how unprofessional it was to go out the base a day before the travel to Paris. This escapade was everything she needed, something new and fresh as she listened to their playlists, mostly fighting over knowing whose would play now to finally switch from one playlist to the other everytime one had enough. At some point, Sasha mentioned Valentines Day, as they already were in February, and listening to The Score, and how she would offer something to her mother on this special day. Four frowned, telling her that it was a really weird tradition, to witch Sasha's answer was putting on some Tulia on the radio as Four started to apologize – for fuck's sake no more of this music, it's not weird stop it!

Four told her to stop next to a few blocks, small houses in yellow pastel and few cars. She saw it “Eastern Market”. Heaven on Earth probably. And as they stepped into the shop, the man at the counter greeted Four with a wide smile, and even a small talk, which Sasha ignored in order to explore the place, almost drooling. She saw everything, she saw deliciousness and finesse, she saw everything she missed. From pierogi to ogorki kiszone. But mostly, she saw kabanosy, these small sticks of dried meat for which she craved for days eating pizza and fries. The food of Gods. A childish smile appeared on her face as she grabbed three packs of these, Four saw everything and couldn't stop himself from laughing. She showed him her middle finger, as a simple answer and disappeared between the stalls. Overwhelmed by pure joy, she walked around the shop, gathering sweets, snacks and all the unholy things she shouldn't tell Five she had. She wasn't able to know that Sasha's diet was spiraling out right now.

Her arms charged with her treasures, she arrived to the checkout, Four already standing there with a pack of beers. The man looked at her with a knowing look and a smile. He definitely knew.

“New in here,” he asked looking at her and then at Four.

“New colleague from Poland,” Four said looking at the man with a mocking smile, “she already misses home as you can see.” Sasha rolled her eyes, not wanting to explain everything to this unknown man at all and just to enjoy her food as soon as possible.

“Always difficult to move from your homeland, young lady,” the man confirmed, reassuring her as he put her groceries into a paper bag.

“True, especially when you know nobody.”

“But you have a friend here now,” the man told her as he pointed first at Four and then himself. “Easterners are one big family, especially in exile.”

“Holly words of truth,” Four completed happily as he put the pack of beers on the counter. “Take the beers too, I'm paying the things,” he pursued as Sasha shook her head in disagreement. “C'mon, don't do that to me, I just want to pay: no biggie!”

“... Fine,” she finally whispered, not wanting to put on a scene.

“You're lucky to have a friend like Iwan, young lady,” the man said winking at Sasha, and Sasha looked at Four, a bit dazzled, not understanding what had just happened and then, the man's question blew her mind: “and what's your name, young lady?”

“Malgorzata,” the name rolled on her tongue, her mother's name. She gathered all the remaining energy in her mind, every ounce of conviction into this: she became Malgorzata for a moment. “Yes, Iwan is really a great friend,” she then whispered, trying to process the information.

The man winked looking at Four as he just sighed and rolled his eyes before putting some money on the counter, Sasha thanked the man and they went out the shop. Her mind still blown by what happened in front of her, their names... Four would never be that stupid, right?

“Your name's Iwan,” she asked him, as he carried the groceries and the beer pack in his hands. He turned around to face her, sighing.

“If your name's Malgorzata then my name's Iwan,” he said, readjusting quickly what he was carrying. “Nice evasive reply by the way.”

“Had to find something that sounded as Polish as possible,” she said, putting her hands in her short's pockets.

“Nice. I mostly go by Iwan when I'm out here, but I have many other names: the perk of being dead,” he concluded with a warm tone until they reached the car and she opened the trunk for him. “You can have as many personalities as you wish. Just ask Three for help, he's our best creator out here.”

“Three,” she repeated, a bit surprised.

“Yeah, he'll find you a fancy name, fancy props, fancy everything. He's more of our disguise expert than a hitman,” he admitted as he closed the trunk. “I saw him and Two wearing wigs and nose prosthetic in Vegas, outrageously weird. But nobody caught them.”

“I can't wait to see what he prepared for the mission in Paris then,” she chuckled, already having a few things in mind when they'll be back at the base. She needed to have a look.

“You're absolutely not ready, nobody is. I'm usually out of the disguise thing because I'm mostly in the air so... Oh yeah,” he snapped out of the blue, “be ready to hear him practicing French in his mic, he always practices the language of the country we're in.”

“Got it.”

“And he'll want to impress Two, so sometimes horny talks,” he warned her with a little smile, “in Hong Kong he wasn't in best shape and wanted to fuck Two in the elevator.”

“No shit,” she said, almost not surprised about it. “I'm sure Two wanted to kill him.”

“You're absolutely right.”

“Well, let's go before we get in serious troubles with One,” Sasha concluded, putting her hand on the back of the car.

“I'm the troublemaker in this team, get used to it,” he replied, laughing a bit as he went up the front part of the car.

“You met another troublemaker Four, twice as troublesome as you,” she teased him still standing behind.

“We'll see that in Paris.”

Yes, they would see.

[i-am-masterkittens]

You better prepare yourself cause these are Quite A Few Questions 👀👀 3, 4, 11, 12, 15, 21, 23, 31, 33, 39 and lastly 40. Wow. 11 questions lmao

Thank you so much 😭😭❤

3. rant. just do it (I am going to put my whole ass rant under the cut because BOY IS IT LENGTHY. Also tw child abuse, pedophilia, self-harm and I think that’s it.)

4. do you think its ok to separate the artist from the art? No? Like I guess if you want to, that’s fine, I’m not gonna hate you for it, but for me personally I’m gonna try to avoid it as much as possible. If a bad person creates a masterpiece, I’m still not gonna support them.

11. what unusual talent do you have? Uhh mild body contortion? Like I can’t touch my toes for the life of me but I can twist my body really weirdly and bend all my fingertips backwards by a lot. I love freaking people out by doing that.

12. what’s the most interesting schools gossip you’ve ever heard? I have audio-based problems meaning I have trouble understanding someone when they speak and also remembering what they said, so I can eavesdrop on the juiciest gossip and forget the next day. However, I do remember this one thing about some kid named Evan being a vampire, which I distinctly remember because Jake talked about it, but I don’t remember how it came up.

15. what’s a question do you constantly get asked? One would think it would be “omg are you left handed?” Or something similar, but I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me about it. One question I do get a lot is from my boyfriend, “why are you so cute?” It makes me shy and I have to hide my face.

21. what’s a conspiracy you believe in? That there are Warrior cats living somewhere in the world (from the warrior series). Which I guess isn’t a conspiracy, but I believe in it!

23. if you could break one of your bad habits which would you choose? The inability to take care of myself. I mean, if someone wasn’t there to remind me every day, I would never remember to take my medicine, or brush my teeth before bed, or even get dressed half the days. I wouldn’t call it lazy, it’s more of a “I’m too tired to take care of myself”. That’s mental illness for you babey!!

31. you can change one thing in your life right now. what are you changing? OH. I would totally delete every disease in the world. This whole quarantine thing is making me sick physically, emotionally, and mentally, because I am not allowed outside at all and the lack of fresh air, meeting people, and vitamin D is stressing me out and well I feel bad almost all the time now. Not to mention all the cool stuff I was gonna do for my 2020 graduation. 😔

33. what do you think about a lot I sometimes wonder if my best friend would let me call him Jakey or Jakie as a nickname but I’m too shy to ask because I am baby.

39. describe your asthetic Okay so I call it “Pretty-Cryptid, Baby-Softcore.” Because I am baby AND a cryptid. I’ll be eating baby carrots from the bag and staring out the window one minute then I’ll want to be snuggled under lots of blankets the next. I also really love pretty things and colors. Pastel purples and blues? Hell yeah! Pats on the head? I love you. A demon with ethereal vibes and pretty jewelry is standing next to me in bed and telling me everything’s going to be okay? OGHOHOHHHHGH ❤❤❤❤ Anyway I want a pretty monster dad, please?

40. answer with one of your ‘school memes’ (inside jokes you have with your class/grade) with no explanation Mr. Wise.

Here’s my rant:

The basis of it all is just that I would probably sleep forever if I could.

I guess that isn’t all quite a rant, so I’ll start of on a mild note. What the fuck is happening to my dreams? I’ve been having these weird ass dreams about people taking care of me and genuinely wanting to become a parental figure to me. They all wear masks, two of which look exactly like SCP-035 and SCP-049, but there’s this one dude, I don’t know him, but he wears this mask with holes in it. Apparently his name is Jason? This isn’t the first time I’ve had a dream about someone who I didn’t know existed, I’ve also had dreams about Monika from DDLC before I knew who she was, and even about how she died. It was creepy as fuck, and I sure hope my dreams don’t come true because I’ve had dreams of the future more than once.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get into the heavy stuff, starting with my parents.I know I’m not the only person to have shitty parents, but that doesn’t stop them from being shitty. And before I get into anything, please please, please don’t report them to anyone. It’s probably weird to hear considering all they’ve done, but the guilt will probably kill me literally, and I still kinda love them, I mean they’re my parents and they took care of me. I don’t want anything to happen to them, and I don’t want to have to hurt myself because I did something to them, even if it was indirectly.

It used to be physical abuse, but it’s evolved into verbal as I grew up. Whenever I used to get in trouble, I would get so fucking terrified of what was going to happen to me. My dad, who was mostly absent from my life, (hence my constant wishing for a fictional character to be my dad, and probably a HUGE factor for what’s happening to my dreams lately) was also the most heavy handed with the hitting. He would spank me so hard that I would be crying and my butt would be red for hours. And it was so SO obvious that he liked my sister more than me, because it was always me who ended up with the red butts, and she’d get away with a loud yelling at. Meanwhile my mom would just hit me wherever she could with whatever she could, including a wire coat hanger when she was doing laundry.

And I recognize that I was a problem child, both physically and mentally because of my internal deformities that cause a lot of health problems, but also my weird boyish mentality and energy (I was into roughhousing a lot). But even then, just yelling would be enough to make me stop. Hitting me the way they did only made me learn how to lie to them and hide when I did something wrong.

This sort of stuff went on until about middle school, where it turned into more verbal threats about kicking me out of the house, as well as calling me names and making comments that dropped my self esteem very low, including stupid cow, bitch, and even telling me to hide my body and never wear bikinis or short shorts or crop tops (which I was already sensitive enough about because of my scars and the bump in my abdomen because of my knotted intestines, which gives me digestive issues if I eat too much). Dad almost completely dropped off the disciplinary train, only yelling at me extremely loudly when he got angry, but other than that I did pretty much nothing with him.

Because of them I’ve become extremely paranoid when it comes to touches that aren’t meant to be 100% comforting, and I’ve never been able to fully trust anyone for fear of getting hurt, (I’m sorry Jake :( if it makes you feel better though I trust you the most out of anyone else) and I get nervous when speaking up because I always got shot down by my parents.

It’ll be okay though because I have my boyfriend who I’ll get to live with soon, even if it’s just for the summer.

This isn’t everything that they’ve done, but it’s the majority of it, and even though they do good stuff with me sometimes, like my dad cooks breakfast or takes us out to eat, or we all go on nice vacations together, and it makes me feel guilty that I’m making them look bad, and worry that I’m oversharing or being too sensitive, but then I remember what they do and have done, and remind myself that I’ll only visit during holidays.

When I was 13, I came into contact with a pedophile. My first one out of at least 2 that I remember. I’m going to spare the details, but he tried to roleplay sexual situations with him, and convince me to undress in front of him, and that’s when I cut contact with him, and faked my death. I’m so, SO fucking sick of pedos, and pedo apologists, saying there’s nothing wrong with the age difference, when pedophilia has done nothing good to or for children. It gave me severe PTSD, to the point that I can’t say any words relating to reproduction, and visual-based sexual content will cause me to have flashbacks and panic attacks and cause me to scratch myself. Thanks pedos! Fucking hate you all! Please die.

And before people say I am overreacting, I’ve had this huge trigger since I was 13 and that is not something a kid should go through. And the reason why not a lot of people know about what happened, it’s because of the fear that I harbored, that people would laugh at me, and might use my triggers against me, which made things even worse, and it wasn’t until my boyfriend triggered me (accidentally) that I finally told someone, and it made me feel better that I could rely on him.

Other than that, another rant is about my boyfriend. I mean, he’s a good boyfriend, and he’s nice, but sometimes he comes off as insensitive and it makes me upset. That’s most of the reasons why we fight. Another big thing is lack of affection/attention, which might seems strange since we’re always hanging out, it seems, and cuddling, but sometimes he falls asleep on me and I get bored and don’t know what to do, or sometimes he ignores me to play video games or talk to other people. I am very touch starved so I need constant attention and contact or else I get worried, and I don’t know if he knows this or not, but he definitely comes off as ignorant sometimes. 

He makes up for a lot of stuff he does, but it doesn’t make what he did go away, and I wish he’d realize that and change because he keeps making the same mistakes.

My last rant is going to be about myself, and that I feel like a shit person! I feel like I always make things worse! I feel bad for every decision I make! I feel like I’m too clingy to my boyfriend and that I ask too much of him sometimes, and it makes me feel like shit because what I want and how I feel afterwards are different things and wow! Time for scratches! Also I want to have the power to always know what to do and say to make everyone happier and feel better! But then I get scared I’m gonna make a mistake and instead of trying to help I ignore them and go wow! I am a very shit person for ignoring them! And now my heart hurts because I got another heart palpitation by panicking! Wow I have a shit body! My heart deformities might kill me in my sleep! Wow! I am so insecure about everything I do and every way I look. I just want to become small and disappear sometimes. I miss you Jake. It’s hard for me to tell you I love you because it’s such an intimate phrase and my boyfriend was the first to hear it from me. But I’m glad you’re the second, even though we were so close to it. Somewhere in an alternate universe we’re together, and that makes me happy. I hope I we can become platonically intimate again, I remember holding your hand at night and it made me feel a little bit better at that camp.

My body just always hurts. I have to take a lot of medicine, and between all my heart, lung, and intestinal issues, on top of all my mental issues, majority of which have gone undiagnosed because my mom is in denial and refuses to get me to any sort of therapy; all of that combined makes me tired constantly, and I just always have stress, and a little headache in the back of my head.

I’m still hurting a lot, but I hope to get better. I have lots of ideas for the future, and I want to complete them before I go. I hope I make it past 2020, with many of you in tow.

I’m so tired.

I’m sorry if I made you sad.

[dstrachan]

'VIEWS FROM THE EDGE' - w/c 5th Sptember 2022

Sandi Thom ‘Runaway Train’

Sandi Thom ‘Stormy Weather’

Lowkey feat. Mai K, Karim Kamar, Kaia  ‘Ghosts Of Grenfell’

Elton John ‘Candle In The Wind / Goodbye England’s Rose’

2Pac ‘California Love feat. Dr. Dre’

Madisyn Whajne ‘Fire’

Dance With The Dead ‘Riot’

Johnny Nash ‘There Are More Questions Than Answers’

Freddie Mercury & Montserrat Cabale ‘Barcelona’

Elvis Presley ‘Speedway’

Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band ‘Low Yo Yo Stuff’

Jaki Song ‘Self Love’

Femmepop ‘Dancing With Myself’

P!nk ‘Fingers’

Elvis Costello ‘Pump It Up’

Charli XCX ‘Body Of My Own’

The Dresden Dolls ‘Coin-Operated Boy’

Nicki Minaj & Beyoncé ‘Feeling Myself’

Divinyls ‘I Touch Myself’

Hear Guitar ‘1984’

Sonoraw ‘Eerie Feeling Tonight’

Nick Drake ‘Northern Sky’

Andy Oliveri & the Mountaineers ‘Sky Candy Apple’

Transglobal Underground ‘Sky Giant’

Adele ‘Skyfall’

Madonna ‘Sky Fits Heaven’

[revolutionsoftheheart]

kiss prompt: oq - 5

hands on the other person’s back, fingertips pressing under their top, drawing gentle circles against that small strip of bare skin that make them break the kiss with a gasp

set in 4B.

His left hand holds her in place as theother skims across her waist, slowly tugging on the blouse she’d just minutesago tucked into her skirt.

They shouldn’t be doing this.

This is more than kissing, more than just sex. Eachpress of his lips is a silent declaration of love he can’t take back, a newscar marring her already bruised heart. But when calloused fingertips makecontact with her bare skin, still flush and warm from their earlier activities,she finds him impossible to resist—finds she doesn’t want to resist. He is everything she wants right now, everythingshe needs, his mouth pliant against her own, his chest scant centimetres from hers, heatbuilding anew between their bodies. She gasps and shivers as his thumb traces soft circles at the small of her back, the cool air of the vault sweeping under hershirt.

This still just counts as the first time, he’d said.No need for remorse, no need for guilt. He was—is—hers. Let their sins be condemned;their taste is ever so sweet.

send me fictional kiss prompts

[undead-gearhead]

D, F, H and J for Kirsten and James? :D ♥ Unless that's too many. x'D Then halvsies instead, with two letters for each?

Jaaaake I can always count on you for these. And nah! Thats a perfectly fine amount. I’m just gonna throw it under a read more bc this shits gonna get LONG. 

Kirsten first, cause she’s my OG Deputy. 

D: Decoration1. how would they decorate a house if they had one under their name? Sort of rustic style, I suppose. Warm inviting colors and candles everywhere. Old barn wood, that sort of thing. Also flowers. She likes flowers a lot. 2. how would they decorate their child’s room? Pastel yellows and greens! Probably a farm animal type deal, sort of story bookish? Babies like ducks, right?3. how do they decorate their own room? Again, rustic style. Retro four poster bed. A wall of pictures that are important to her. There’s probably plaid bed sheets. 4. what type of clothes and accessories do they wear? Flannel and jeans. Western boots and sunglasses. She dresses for comfort, not looks. She does have a little cross necklace her mom gave her when she was a teenager though.5. do they like makeup/nail/beauty trends? Haha no. She does a face mask every once in a while as a Treat Yo Self but other than that its a hardcore ‘fuck it’. Lightens her hair tho. 

F: Fun1. what do they do for fun? She used to help her dad with the race car, but now she just sort of sits around. I could see her hanging out with Hudson sometimes and just bullshitting. 2. what is their ideal party? Field bonfire! Y’know. Booze and friends. What could go wrong? 3. who would they have the most fun with? Sharky. Without a doubt. He enables her chaotic nature. 4. can they have fun while conforming to rules? Uh, sort of. She’s an ex dirt track racer. She can get pretty rowdy. 5. do they go out a lot? Not really, but she isn’t a shut in either. She hits the bar for dinner like once a week maybe. 

H: Heat1. do they rather a hot or cold room? Cold! 2. do they prefer summer or winter? She’s definitely a summer fan. 3. do they like the snow? She’s from Montana so she’s... used to it at least. (No. She hates it) 4. do they have a favorite summer activity? Watching dirt track! 5. do they have a favorite winter activity? Staying the fuck indoors

J: Joy1. what makes them happy? Good food, dirt track, friends. 2. who makes them happy? Sharky! 3. are there any songs that bring them joy? Led Zeppelin- Black Dog. She used to jam to it with her dad in the garage. 4. are they happy often? She is! She’s very content with life until yknow. Cult shit. 5. what brings them the most joy in the world? I don’t wanna say dogs but. Dogs. She’s definitely one of those people to audibly gasp over every dog she sees. She just LOVES them. 

And James! 

D: Decoration1. how would they decorate a house if they had one under their name? You ever seen the home decor section of a Bass Pro Shop? Like that but with movie posters and less camo. Also taxidermy. 2. how would they decorate their child’s room? Outdoorsy but. Cute. 3. how do they decorate their own room? Let’s be entirely honest he’s a 25 year old man who lives by himself. His bed is on the fucking floor. He does have a dresser and other furniture though. It’s relatively clean at least. 4. what type of clothes and accessories do they wear? Denim vest, camo, jeans. He’s got an antler necklace he wears, it’s made from the same rack his mom’s antler hairpins are made from. 5. do they like makeup/nail/beauty trends? Haha no. You’d be lucky to see him use anything besides soap on his face. 

F: Fun1. what do they do for fun? Fishing! 2. what is their ideal party? He’s similar to Kirsten in the regard of bonfire. Only he’d be the rowdy guy at those sort of parties.3. who would they have the most fun with? Nick and Sharky. Probably. 4. can they have fun while conforming to rules? Yes but he doesn’t 5. do they go out a lot? By out do you mean by outdoors alone? Yes. 

H: Heat1. do they rather a hot or cold room? Temperate. He’s not too inclined either way. He can sleep anywhere. 2. do they prefer summer or winter? Summer. He can get up to more jackassery that time of year. 3. do they like the snow? He’s okay with it. 4. do they have a favorite summer activity? Fishing. Again. 5. do they have a favorite winter activity? Hunting. 

J: Joy1. what makes them happy? Outdoorsy shit. Camping. That sort of thing.2. who makes them happy? His mom. Mary May cept he doesn’t talk about that3. are there any songs that bring them joy? You know those obnoxiously upbeat 50s bubblegum pop songs? Those. Not because he likes them, because he’s more of a country and rock guy. His mom just sang them a lot because she worked at a retro diner that played them. 4. are they happy often? Honestly? No. But he manages. 5. what brings them the most joy in the world? The outdoors. He’s a grimey woods boy

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

25 Fics of Christmas ~ Day 10

A/N: So this was supposed to be Monday’s post and it was supposed to be short and fun and then it took on an absolute life of its own. So I apologize for the delay and I hope you enjoy it. 

Title Holiday Back Up 

Summary: Bucky accompanies you home for Christmas to keep you from hooking up with your asshole ex who your mom still thinks is your perfect match. Neither of you realize that the other one has feelings. 

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x Reader, OC’s

Rating: T for language 

Warnings: Angst ( more than usual), but it’s still pretty fluffy 

Word count: 4858 (it’s a beast) 

“You will be home in time for the Christmas party, won’t you, dear?”

You sighed into the phone as you walked away from the training room.

“Yes, mom. I’ll be home in time for the party.”

“Oh good. I know Tom is very excited to see you.” You were about to remind her that you and Tom had barely spoken in five years when there was a loud commotion in the background. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh yes. Your father and brother just brought the tree in. I have to go. Text us when you get on the plane. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you muttered after she had already hung up.

Great. Another year of your mother trying to get you back together with your asshole ex. Merry freaking Christmas. As you stormed back into the training room, you tossed your phone in the direction of your bag and headed straight for the punching bag. You ignored the curious glances from your team as you landed blow after blow, bloodying your knuckles in the process.

“You okay there, doll?” he asked from behind you.

“I’m fine, Buck. Leave me alone.”

You knew he wasn’t going to leave you alone, so you weren’t surprised when he rested a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

“You’re staining the canvas. Come on. At least let me tape you up properly.”

His prolonged contact was draining the fight right out of you so with a sigh you let him lead you over to a bench. Grabbing a towel from a nearby cart, he crouched in front of you, cradling your hand in his as he dabbed the blood away. When he pulled a roll of tape from his pocket you shook your head.

“Don’t bother. I think I’m done for today.”

“Do you want to talk about it, doll?” he asked as he looked up at you. He still had one of your hands trapped between his.

“If I say no will you let it drop?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“For now,” he agreed. “But you know I’ll find out eventually. Come on, doll. I’m your best friend. You can talk to me about anything.”

“My mom called,” You sighed and started gathering your stuff.  

“Oh, goodie. What did she want?”

He fell in step beside you as you headed back to your room.

“She wanted to make sure that I would be home in time for the holiday party.”

“That doesn’t explain why you were trying to demolish the punching bag.”

“She’s going to spend the entire night trying to get me back together with my ex.”

He made himself comfortable on your couch while you started getting your things together for a shower.

“When did you guys break up? I didn’t know you’d been with anybody.”

“Five years ago Christmas Eve. Long before I joined the team.”

Long before you met Bucky.

“Why is your mom still so hung up on him?”

“Because to her he’s my perfect match. I didn’t have the heart to tell her what he did.”

“What did he do, doll?”

He was watching you carefully, measuring your response.

“He cheated on me throughout our entire relationship.”

“Please tell me you punched him in the face.”  

“No, I didn’t. And unfortunately I don’t think I’m as over him as I should be.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because out of the four Christmas parties since we broke up, we’ve hooked up during three of them,” you admitted, feeling ashamed. “Have I mentioned my mom’s eggnog is really strong?”

“Which year didn’t you hook up?” The question seemed to pain him.

“Last year.”

“Then maybe you just needed time. You’re probably over him.”  

“I wish that were true. But it was mainly because you were en route to pick me up for a mission during the last Christmas party.”

“Well apparently I have great timing.”

“Well maybe you’ll have to come get me again this year.”  

“Or I could just go with you and beat the shit out of this guy,” he offered.

That got your brain whirring.

“Maybe you should.”

“What? Since when do you let anyone fight your battles?”

You shook your head.

“No. No. I don’t need you to beat him up. But you coming home with me isn’t the worst idea.”

“Doll…”

“Think about it, Buck. You have no plans for the holidays and you could keep me company. And save me from myself.”

“I don’t know, y/n.”

“Come on. Please. I’ll love you forever.”

He smirked. “But that’s already true.”

You didn’t dispute the claim.

“Pleeeeaaasse. You get awesome food out of the deal.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll do it. I never could resist a damsel in distress,” he teased.

“I’ll show you a damsel,” you growled playfully as you jumped at him.

He easily caught and pinned you under him on the couch.

“Gotcha.”

“Are you sure about that?”

You locked your knees around his waist and rolled him off the couch. You both landed with a thud and he groaned as you pinned his wrists down and pecked him on each cheek.

“Gotcha.”

“As always,” he smiled and you felt the butterflies in your stomach start cartwheeling.

You immediately hopped to your feet, hoping he didn’t catch your blush. He pushed himself into a sitting position as you headed for the bathroom to the shower.

“Are you just gonna leave me here?” he called as you started up the water.

“You could always join me,” you muttered under your breath before speaking more loudly. “You know where the remotes are. Entertain yourself.”

The next morning Clint flew you and Bucky to the closest airport to your hometown, where you switched over to an SUV sans SHIELD logo.

“So anything I should know going into this week, doll?” Bucky asked, gripping the steering wheel tightly – the way he did when he was nervous about a mission.

“Take your next right,” you instructed before answering his question. “Not really. I’ve told you about them.  My family is easier to experience than explain. They will probably ask if we’re dating, but don’t let that throw you. They just aren’t used to seeing me with anyone but Tom.”

“But you guys have been broken up for so long. I don’t get it.”

“Yeah. But we were together for a really long time.”

“How long?”

“Seven years.”

“Wow.”

“Yep. Junior year of high school through college and my first year interning at Stark Industries. I came home early for Christmas and found him in bed with another girl.”

“You deserve so much better, doll.” He reached out to hold your hand and you gladly took it.

“That wasn’t the worst part.”

His eyes darted from the road to your face.

”How is that not the worst part?”

“I went to my high school reunion that holiday and got told by 4 different girls that they had hooked up with him while we were dating.”

“Ouch,” he grimaced.

“I don’t even want to think about how many girls he was with in college.”

“What a loser. He had it all and just threw it all away.”

“He didn’t have it all,” you argued quietly.

He didn’t miss a beat.  

“He had you. That’s all that matters.”

You were surprised by the ferocity in his voice, and something about it made you blush.

“Take your next right,” you mumbled as he came to a stop sign.

“Wow. Your family really does love Christmas,” he smiled at the lights outside your house.

“My contribution to the traditions,” you told him proudly.

“Well they’re beautiful,” he looked over to smile at you, but noticed your preoccupation. “Are you okay, doll?”  

You were flipping your phone over and over in your hands, staring at the front door.

“Doll?” he spoke softly, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah. I’m good. Thanks for coming with me, Buck.”

“Wouldn’t miss it. Shall we go meet the family?”

“Let’s do it,” you sighed opening the door.  

He grabbed both your duffels from the trunk while you took the bags of presents.

“Knock. Knock. Your favorite daughter’s home!” you called when you walked through your door. “Jakie,” you beamed as you hugged your brother.

“You’re here! And you brought company.”

Bucky shifted your bag to his shoulder and extended his hand.

“I’m James Barnes. You can call me Bucky.”

You clocked the recognition in your brother’s eyes. And you were a bit nervous about how he was going to react. But he just smiled and shook his hand.

“Jake. Nice to meet you. You didn’t tell me you were bringing anyone, y/n.”

“Your sister was kind enough to invite me when my plans fell through.”

“Of course she was.”

He gave you a pointed look, and you knew you were going to be interrogated later.

Your mom rounded the corner speaking on the phone.

“Have to go, Carol. I’ll call you later, y/n just got home.”

Shoving the phone at Jake your mother hugged you tightly.

“Hi mom.”

“Hi, sweetheart. Who’s your friend?”

She let go of you, appraising Bucky carefully.

“James Barnes, ma’am. Pleasure to meet you. I hope I’m not intruding.”

He gave her his most charming smile and your stomach flipped. Jake elbowed you in the ribs with a smirk. You glared. Bucky’s manners did the trick because you could see your mother’s approval replacing her suspicion.

“Of course not. Any friend of y/n’s,” she waved her hand in lieu of completing the adage. “It’s lovely to have you here. You must be tired from your flight.”

“I was just about to get him settled in the guest room. And then I’ll be down to help get ready for the party.”

“Take your time. Everything’s under control. Besides Tom said he’d stop by and help out.”

“Of course he did,” you grumbled. “C’mon, Buck. I’ll show you your room.”

He nodded and followed you up the stairs.

“You are very charming, Sarge,” you admitted as you climbed to the second floor.

“You say that like you’re surprised.”

You shrugged. “I just rarely see it.”

“Just because you fell for me naturally….” He trailed off and you could feel your cheeks burning.

Luckily, you’d made it to the guest room.

“So, this is you. I’m right next door, and we’ll have to share a bathroom. Sorry.”

“Not like we haven’t done it before, doll. Remember that cabin in Canada?”

“You mean shack,” you corrected him with a giggle. “And yes, I do. That was a long week.”

“That was one hell of a first mission for us as partners.”

“It certainly made the rest of them easier. I should go help my mom. Take your time and settle in. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Despite your insistence that he rest, Bucky simply freshened up and followed you back downstairs. You found your mom in the kitchen dusting cookies with powdered sugar.

“Anything we can do to help, mom?”

“Those sugar cookies could use a little extra frosting.”

“We’re on it.”

You settled yourself at the kitchen island with the bowl of frosting and a plate of cookies between the two of you and got to work.

“So how long have you two been an item?”

The butter knife you had been using clattered to the counter and you choked on the cookie you had just bit into. Bucky was immediately on his feet patting you on the back and offering you a drink of water.

“Are you okay, doll?” he asked, rubbing your back soothingly as you continued to cough a little.

“I’m good. Thanks, Bucky.”

You smiled up at him and he squeezed your shoulders before picking the knife up and rinsing it in the sink. When you both had settled again your mother changed the subject.

“So, ‘Bucky’ that’s an interesting nickname.”

“Yes ma’am. A childhood one. My middle name is Buchanan.”

“James Buchanan Barnes, what an interesting… oh.” You saw the moment of recognition and Bucky squirmed next to you. You were about to intervene when your mother continued speaking.  “You’re Captain America’s best friend. Two good men. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Bucky slumped in relief next to you and you squeezed his knee under the island. You were grateful to your mother.

When the cookies were done, your mother asked Bucky to help move some chairs out of the garage, tasking you with setting up the refreshments table.

You huffed as your fingertips grazed the cinnamon on the top shelf, pushing it just out of your reach.

“Dammit,” you muttered.

You were about to turn around to grab the step stool when a taller body pressed against your back, easily grabbing the spice.

“Thanks, Bu… Tom?”

You stumbled over yourself trying to get away from him.

“Hey, y/n. Long time no see.”

“Ever heard of a doorbell?”

“Your mom said I should just come on in because she’d probably be busy. You look good.”

His eyes raked up and down your body and you resisted the urge to cringe. You silently hoped Bucky would make a surprise appearance.

“I need to go finish setting up the refreshments.”

“I’ll give you a hand.”

“No. Why don’t you go see what mom needs.”

He stalked towards you trapping you against the counter.  

“You know, y/n. I’ve missed you a lot.”

“Don’t, Tom.”

He leaned over you.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t try to start this again. I’m done with you.”

Your voice wasn’t as strong as you would have liked it to be.

“Don’t be silly. You know you’ll always want me.”

You knew he was about to kiss you. And you knew you should shove him away but you were trapped. Your body refused to listen to your brain. Luckily, Bucky really does have impeccable timing.

“Hey, doll. Your mom wants you to help me set up the den. Apparently only you know how to fit the maximum amount of chairs.”

You and Tom both looked to the dining room doorway, where Bucky had just appeared. You could see the tension in his jaw as he took in your compromising position.

“Who the hell are you?” Tom snapped, and you used the distraction to scurry to Bucky’s side.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” he said clearly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“You’re the… the… Win… the Winter Soldier,” he stuttered out.

Bucky’s gaze hardened into a glare.

“Yes. I am.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The plates in Bucky’s arm whirred against you as he made a fist.

“He’s with me,” you informed him. “Will you give me a hand with the eggnog before we do the den?”

Bucky’s expression immediately softened.

“Sure thing, doll.”

You handed him the giant punch bowl and grabbed the cinnamon and the reindeer shaker. Tom was shooting daggers at the both of you, but Bucky just offered him a feral grin.

When you were out of earshot you stretched to kiss him on the cheek.

“Thank you for saving me.”

“That is what I’m here for. I gotta be honest though, doll. I’m not sure I’m going to make it through the week without punching him in the face.”

“Try for me?” you pleaded, stroking his cheek.

“I’ll try. But I make no promises.”

“I’ll take it.”

“Y/n? Where are you?”

“In the dining room, dad.”

Bucky took a cautionary step back from you and you smirked at him. Your dad came through the swinging door with a grin.

“Hi honey. It’s so good to have you home.”

“Hi, dad.”

You hugged him tightly before gesturing to Bucky.

“Dad, this is Bucky. My teammate.”

He immediately stuck his hand out, formally introducing himself. “James Buchanan Barnes. It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

“Nice to meet you. How was your drive from the airport?”

“Nice and easy. We barely hit any traffic at all.”

“Good. That’s good. Your mom was looking for you. She wants you to change the setting on the outdoor lights so they stay on all night.”

“Oh okay. I was going to help Bucky with the den.”

“I’ll give James a hand. It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other.” Your father told you pointedly. “You should probably do the lights and go get ready. Guests start arriving at five.”

“Five? Since when?”

“Since your mother decided to add a sing along portion to the evening.”

You chuckled and shook your head.

“I’m just going to go fix the lights.”

You shot Bucky an apologetic look as your father led him into the den. You owed him big time.

“Bucky?” You called as you put the finishing touches on your make up.

“Yeah, doll?” He appeared in your doorway via the adjoining bathroom.

“Can you help me with this zipper? It’s stuck.”

“Sure thing.”

You lifted your arm so he could reach the offending metal. He struggled for a moment before finally freeing it and pulling it all the way up.

“You look beautiful,” He smiled at your reflection in your full length mirror.

“Why thank you. Not so bad yourself. The waistcoat is a nice touch.”

You finished putting your earring and turned so you could straighten his tie.

“Kind of the style I’m used to.”

“It suits you. Pun intended,” you giggled, brushing some stray lint off his shoulder.

“You’re a nut.”

“And that’s the reason you love me.”

“Among others,” he mumbled, making you blush.

“So what did my father say to you? And how much do you hate me now?”

“I could never hate you, doll. And we just chatted. He asked what my intentions were towards you and how long we had been dating.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“I told him you were a great girl and I had unfortunately not yet worked up the courage to ask you out. However, if and when I did, my intentions would be to court you and love you in every way possible.”

“Bucky, what are you saying?”

“Y/n, I’m not sure how you feel about me, but I’m crazy about you. I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time, but I kept chickening out. But now… will you be my girl?”

You couldn’t find the words so you just nodded and launched yourself into his arms. He was leaning in for a kiss when there was a soft knock on your door just before Jake opened it and the two of you jumped apart.

“Jake!”

“Sorry. Sorry. I just wanted to talk to you before the party.”

“I’m going to go see if your mom needs any more help. See you downstairs, doll.”

He closed the door behind him and you turned to face your brother.

“Seriously?!”

“Sorry. But how could you not tell me you’re dating the Winter Soldier? That’s so cool.”

“Number one, don’t call him that. It’s a bit of a sore spot.” He nodded understandingly. “And number two, we aren’t dating. Well we weren’t dating. But we are now. But that’s a recent development.”  

“How recent?”

“Ten seconds before you opened the door.”

“If you weren’t dating then why’d you bring him? You’ve never brought teammates home before.”

“I brought him to run interference with Tom.”

“So you had Bucky Barnes pretending to be your boyfriend? Badass, sis.”

“Well now he’s not pretending anything. And now that I know Bucky likes me there’s no chance of Tom ruining anything,” you grinned.  

“Oh please let me be there when they meet.”

“Too late. Bucky already saved from him once.”

“How did that go?”

“No punches were thrown…”

“For now.”

“For now,” you agreed. “So what do you think of him?”

“You’re happy so I’m happy.”

You smiled at him affectionately.

“Thanks, little bro.”

“Plus he charmed mom and that’s not easy.”

“Speaking of. I should probably go save him from her.”

You slipped on your heels, squeezed him arm, and hurried down the stairs. Bucky looked up at your entrance and the smile he gave you made your heart skip. You felt like you were in a movie, at least until your toe caught on the rug three steps from the bottom. You didn’t have enough distance to flip out of the fall, so you braced for impact. Instead strong arms caught you and gently placed you on the ground.

“You alright, doll?”

“Perfect. That’s two times now.”

“No need to keep score, doll. I’ve always got your back.”

“Quick reflexes, James,” your father complimented him.

“All part of the job, sir.”

“It’s good to know my daughter has someone like you on her side.”

Guests started flooding into the house at five o’clock on the dot, and you spent the first couple of hours or so of the party introducing Bucky to your family and friends. Most of them had the same response, slight surprise and then awkward, polite conversation, at least until Bucky charmed them. All it took was a few minutes with him to see the witty, charismatic sweetheart you were used to. Tom however spent the first two hours glaring at you from afar.

When it was time for the sing-along, your mother sat you down at the piano and had everyone gather round. You were a little embarrassed when you caught Bucky grinning as you ran your fingers up and down the scales. Your musical talents weren’t typically of use in the field so not many people knew about them, but it had been something you shared with Bucky. The two of you would often hide out in the music room playing show tunes.  

You started off with the 12 Days of Christmas. It was a long one, but it always got people in the spirit. By the end of the song everyone was bellowing the lyrics in an off key cacophony. You segued into Jingle Bells which was another crowd favorite. After ten or twelve songs, Tom had perched himself on the stool next to you and you ignored him as you finished the playing Winter Wonderland.

“I think it’s time for a break,” your father announced, sensing your fatigue. “We’ll do another round in an hour.”

“You haven’t lost your touch.”

“Why don’t you two do a duet?” Your mother suggested. “Why don’t you sing Baby It’s Cold Outside like you used to.”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea, mom.”

“Don’t be a spoil sport, babe,” Tom whispered.

You looked up and saw Bucky’s jaw clench as he spoke to your oldest friends. Clearly he’d heard him.

“My voice isn’t up for it. I think I feel a cold coming on. Excuse me.”

You grabbed two glasses of punch from the table and headed over to Bucky, who sensed you coming and maneuvered so you could easily join the conversation.

“Punch?” you offered.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he responded with an edge in his voice and you knew what he was thinking. After all you wanted to punch Tom too.

You placed your hand on the small of his back, trying to calm him. He responded by immediately wrapping his arm around your shoulders. Conversation with your friends flowed easily and you soon dropped your head against Bucky’s shoulder.

When it was time for the next round of songs, you sent Jake to play and you stayed with Bucky, finding comfort in his low voice as he sang along to the classics. After that, your mother turned on the stereo system and couples took the floor to dance.

You spent a little longer mingling with friends before Bucky coaxed you out onto the dance floor, bopping along to the music somewhat awkwardly.

“You look embarrassed by my sweet moves, doll.”

“Not at all. I’m sure Sam would be proud,” you teased.

When the first slow song came on, Bucky pulled you close. You leaned your head against his chest and swayed. Everything was perfect until part way through the song, you felt his arms stiffen around you. Before you could ask him what was wrong, Tom spoke.

“Mind if I cut in?”

Bucky pulled away but didn’t release you. Tom was attempting to have a staring contest with the Winter Soldier, but he merely gestured to you.

“You’ll have to ask, y/n.”

“Y/n, babe, do you want to dance?”

Saying no to Tom went against your instincts, and Bucky knew that. You glanced at him and he squeezed your hand encouragingly. Taking a deep breath you turned back to your ex and smiled politely.

“No thanks, Tom.”

Bucky beamed as he pulled you close. Tom refused to take no for an answer and tapped Bucky on the shoulder.

“Look, pal. Just because you’re some assassin who she’s too afraid of to say no to doesn’t mean you can take advantage of her like that!” he shouted gaining the attention to the party.

“What are you talking about?” Bucky asked, genuinely confused.

“I saw that little look. She was going to say yes and then you scared her out of it.”

Bucky just laughed as you glared at your ex.

“Do I amuse the Winter Soldier? What’s so funny?”

“The fact that you actually think y/n is the least bit intimidated by me. You clearly know nothing about her.”

“I know her better than you think. I know that she can never say no to me. You clearly have her too scared to do anything but your bidding, you monster,” he spat.  

The insult hit Bucky hard and you watched as his face fell. You had been seeing red already but in that moment your fist snapped forward without warning and you heard the satisfying crack of his nose breaking.

“He’s not the monster, Tom.”

”You don’t see it. Do you? He’s got his claws in you. You always were so easy to manipulate. I cheated on you for years and you still stayed with me. Though it runs in the family. Hell your mom still wants you to marry me.”

His white shirt was now stained with blood as he stumbled to his feet.

“You what?!” your mother glared at Tom. “You cheated on my daughter and had the gall to show your face in my house. Get out.”

“Mrs. Y/l/n.”

“Get out, Thomas. You are not welcome here.”

“Fine. She’s not worth the trouble anyways.”

“Please everybody, enjoy the rest of the party,” your mother insisted graciously before steering you into the kitchen. “Y/n, sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was ashamed. It had been going on for so long and I didn’t realize until it slapped me in the face. You always told me he was the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“I was so wrong sweetheart. I’m so sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me the truth. And I am so sorry I kept pushing you towards that…” she searched for the right word before finally settling on, “Douchebag.”  

You laughed at your prim and proper mother uttering such a term. She looked at you curiously for a moment before joining in your laughter. Bucky, Jake, and your father walked in just then and shared a look of confusion. You simply waved at them in a gesture clearly meaning don’t worry about it. That was when Bucky clocked the blood on your hand and snapped into protective mode.

He rushed over to the sink and wet a wash cloth.

“Bandages and antiseptic are above the microwave,” your dad told him when he figured out what he was doing.

Bucky nodded his appreciation and gathered the necessary items before sitting to your right and gently taking your hand. You had reopened the wounds from the punching bag.

“You know, doll. We talked about unnecessary punching when you’re still injured,” he quipped as he carefully dabbed at your knuckles, just like he’d done the day before.

“That was completely necessary punching.”

You hissed when he applied the antiseptic. Bucky shot you an apologetic look. You were vaguely aware your family had made themselves scarce.

“I’m not saying he didn’t deserve to be punched after what he did to you, but I could have done it for you.”

He finished wrapping the bandage around the gauze and pressed a gentle kiss to the wound.

“I didn’t punch him for me.”

“Then why did you…”

You reached out to cup his face.

“Because no one calls the most important person in my life a monster and gets away with it.”

Just the sound of the word made him cringe and he suddenly couldn’t meet your eyes.

“But I was a monster, for a long time.”

“No. You weren’t. You were used by monsters. There’s a big difference. And as long as I’m in your life, you will not be allowed to forget that at your core you are a good man, Bucky Barnes. A man that I love very much.”

The declaration surprised him and his blue eyes were wide when they met yours.

“I love you too, doll.”

You could feel yourself smile as you leaned in.

“Now, I believe our first kiss was interrupted. So how about we give it another shot?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

A/n: So there you have it. The story that just started writing itself. I hope it was worth the wait lovelies. Thanks for reading! 

Tag Lists are Open! 

Bucky/Sebastian Tag List @waywardpumpkin @sadanddeadsoul @captain-maaarvel @kaytlinr @isaxhorror

Permanent Tag List @iamwarrenspeace @jayzayy @bexboo616 @neoqueen306 @santheweird @helgahuffelpuff @buckitybarnes

[pamphletstoinspire]

Catholic Physics - Reflections of a Catholic Scientist - Part 67

Peeling back the onion layers: Gravitational waves detected!

Story with images:

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/catholic-physics-reflections-scientist-part-67-harold-baines/?published=t

Gravitational waves of a compact binary star by MoocSummers (from Wikimedia Commons) (Caption for linked image)

"Falling in love is not at all the most stupid thing that people do, but gravitation cannot be held responsible for it."Albert Einstein, scribbled on a 1933 letter to him about the effects of gravity on people falling in love.

"Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love, and then, for a second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire." Teilhard deChardin

“Gravity is a contributing factor in nearly 73 percent of all accidents involving falling objects. ” Dave Barry

INTRODUCTION

Many of you have read about the recent experimental detection of a gravity waves by LIGO (Laser Interferometer Gravitational-Wave Observatory), another jewel-in-the-crown of empirical confirmations of Einstein's General Relativity theory.  And it came, appropriately, on the 100th anniversary of the publication of that theory.

I'm not going to expound on the science of this fine piece of experimental work or try to give a "horsies-and-duckies" explanation -- that's very well done in the linked publication and in a fine post by Matt Briggs, Gravitational Waves and Discovering Cause, and comments thereto.  Rather, I'm going to use this as an excuse for expounding on what I believe science is all about.  In these arguments, I'll rely on my own 52 years experience as a practicing chemical physicist (or in other environments, biophysicist, medical physicist and even--horrors!--physical chemist).

WHAT PHILOSOPHERS SAY SCIENCE IS ALL ABOUT*

There are two principal schools of the philosophy of science: scientific realism and scientific anti-realism (or scientific empiricism).  The realism school holds that what sciences tells about the universe mirrors an underlying reality.  I've discussed the anti-realism school in another blog post, "Tipping the Sacred Cow of Science", in which I discuss Nancy Cartwright's book, How the Laws of Physics Lie and the work of Bas van Fraassen.  These philosophers hold that scientific theories do NOT mirror reality, but are rules used to "save the appearances", i.e. to give mathematical descriptions useful for prediction, as in the use of Ptolemaic epicycle to predict planetary motions in the sky; to put it another way, science is "descriptive" not "prescriptive".

The only scheme I've found that represents reasonably well how science works is that given by Imre Lakatos, the scientific research programme, which scheme has also been adapted for other disciplines, e.g. theology, economics.  The scheme can be viewed as a hard core of accepted principles (e.g. the Galilean Principle of Relativity that the laws of motion are the same in all inertial frames, or the Second Law of Thermodynamics), surrounded by a layer of theories that confirm or in accord with the core principles and an outer layer of experimental tests confirming or rejecting the outer layer theories.

The theories and auxiliary data in the protective layer are networked to each other and to the core.  For example, the relativistic formulation of black hole growth and radiation is linked to the Second Law of Thermodynamics and to quantum mechanics. (For an interesting view of the Lakatos scheme in other disciplines, do a Google search "images Lakatos scientific research programme".)  The Lakatos scientific research programme does show how science works, but as far as I can see, it does not lay claim to either scientific realism or anti-realism -- it's epistemic, not metaphysical.

WHAT I THINK SCIENCE IS ALL ABOUT**

My view of science is based on much post-retirement reading in the philosophy of science and on my work from 1954 to 1997 in spectoscopy, nmr and MRI -- studies crossing several disciplines -- chemical physics, biophysics, molecular biology, medical physics.  In the ** Note I've given an illustration from my research life of how science works (or should work), but here I'd like to focus on a prime example -- the development of the Standard Model for elementary particle physics.

In an early post (15th April, 2013), God. Symmetry and Beauty I: the Standard Model and the Higgs Boson, I discussed the development of this theory.  I'll summarize here the points relevant to the modus operandi of science and show how they are in accord with the Lakatos model.  First, in the Lakatos outer shell there were experimental findings that did not fit well into any established theory, what was termed the "elementary particle zoo".  Second, two principles in the inner core governed what theories would be acceptable and esthetically satisfying: symmetry and gauge invariance.  An auxiliary theory proposed early on by Higgs, utilizing an auxiliary principle of "symmetry breaking", was developed to enable gauge-invariant theories to be employed and yield mass values for elementary particles.  Some other theories were developed that made predictions that were falsified and so were discarded.  The final icing on the cake was the detection of the Higgs boson by very high energy scattering experiments, thus completing the experimental verification of the Standard Model theory.

GRAVITATIONAL WAVE DETECTION--HOW SCIENCE WORKS**

Gravitational Wave Data, from Caltech Media Assets (scan down to get full description) (Caption for linked image)

LIGO is another example of Super Science, massive experimental enterprises designed to test/confirm fundamental theory, as in the CERN experiments for detecting the Higgs boson.  Did it do so?  Weren't all the other experimental confirmations, listed below, of Einstein's General Relativity theory sufficient?

"the gravitational deflection of light, the perihelion shift of the orbit of Mercury, the gravitational red shift, the frame-dragging effects of Gravity Probe B, and the rate of gravitational-wave energy loss from neutron-star binary pulsars" John G. Cramer, Gravity with 4-Vector Potentials

The answer to that question is no.  Another theory, G4V (Gravity with 4-Vector Potentials -- see link above), has been proposed.  For the properties listed in the quotation above, the G4V theory gives predictions identical to those of Einstein's General Relativity theory.  They differ in the predicted properties of gravity waves by differing in the predicted wave polarizations***.   At the time when this post was written it appears that the observed waves correspond to the Einstein GR predictions.   Thus the experiments will have fulfilled their mission, to decide which theory fits reality better, Einstein's or the G4V.

A THEOLOGICAL PERSPECTIVE

Since this blog is "Reflections of a Catholic Scientist", I should say something about what this means to me, in terms of my faith.  I believe there is an underlying reality revealed partially by science, that as one peals back the layers of the onion, we get closer to the core.  I also believe, along with Bernard d'Espagnat, that we will never know altogether what that core is.  I believe that we will not know that, because the core is God, the Holy Trinity, and God is only known by what he is not.  He cannot be comprehended in His Entirety.

I also believe that God has given us insight to use science to perceive with wonder His Creation.  In the words of Psalm 19a

"The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork. Psalm 19 (KJV)

and

"What benefactor has enabled you to look out upon the beauty of the sky, the sun in its course, the circle of the moon, the countless number of stars, with the harmony and order that are theirs, like the music of a harp?" St. Gregory of Nazarian, Sermon as quoted in The Office of Readings for 15th February, 2016.

NOTES

*There have been many books and articles written about the philosophy of science.  Some of these contain useful and/or interesting stuff.  Unfortunately many of these philosophers have not done science, and this lack of experience shows in their philosophic work.  I can think of only three who have written both philosophic and scientific papers: Fr. Stanley Jaki, Michael Polyani and Bernard d'Espagnat, all of whom I admire (for different reasons).  

**I want also to illustrate how science works with an example from my own scientific career. So as not to blow my own horn (too much!), I'm going to try to show not only where I succeeded, but where I erred.

A few years into my first academic position at Carnegie Tech (now Carnegie-Mellon University) a graduate student in my research group was facing a road block with his research problem.  A well-established theory was not giving results matching his data. After a lot of thought, it appeared that the gap lay in that higher energy levels of the compound (potassium ferricyanide) he was studying.  Searching the library, I found a publication by Schwinger and Karplus (recalling my earlier graduate course in quantum mechanics) that offered a road to a solution.  After several weeks of intensive devotion I wrote a paper that incorporated density matrix techniques to account for contributions of all electronic levels and submitted it for a publication.  One reviewer pointed out a serious deficiency -- I had neglected to account for mixing of excited states with ground state. I acknowledged he was right, asked him to co-author the paper with me and we collaboratively worked it up for publication.  There is an equation stemming from that work, (Google "Kurland-McGarvey Equation") that is widely enough used in the specialty that it doesn't need footnoting for reference.  So one more small brick in the scientific edifice.

***The polarization of a wave gives the direction of the wave intensity relative to the direction of propagation of the wave.  For example, for light, an electromagnetic radiation wave, the polarization is in a direction perpendicular to the direction of propagation.  For gravity waves, the situation is more complicated: the polarization is a tensor rather than a vector.  (See this link.)

****For some neat videos and pictures, go to the LIGO Lab Gallery.

From a series of articles written by: Bob Kurland - a Catholic Scientist