#(LIKE EVEN AT THE VERY LEAST THEY'D STILL KILL WITH FEELINGS)

[sysig]

Come back as a flower, spring Baby

Tala took it pretty hard. Makes sense

Hopefully, anyway. Live food that has the opportunity to hide can be hard to keep track of, so it’s possible they were stressed too... But at least that would be something familiar, not a big scary shadow to run away from

Even selfish, childish thoughts deserve a place to be recognized. There’s no utility in piling shame on top of grief

It felt really strange to logically know that they were gone but still believing so hard that I could somehow undo it, that they’d start moving again if I just did the right thing. Death really does strange things to the brain

[featherymainffins]

Why you all got ok mothers leave some for the rest of us

[lesbiancientforesttroll]

Think about Harrow's AU Bubbles

Thinking about Harrow's AU bubbles, not as fanfic references, but as expressions of her subconscious fears and desires, is so fascinating.

The Harrow Nova one is pretty obvious. Harrow's parents were obsessed with her being a necromancer, were willing to kill for it. It's only natural she'd wonder, "What if I hadn't been?"

And the answer Harrow gives herself is: Your parents and everyone would reject you (except, wildly, for Crux). Also they'd be alive cuz you'd never opened the tomb, and you'd be an unpopular orphan they'd abuse (Just Like Gideon). And you'd still be just as devoted to serving the Ninth with a blade. There's a lot there. But the other really telling bit is her relationship with Gideon. Harrow Nova professes to hate the reverend daughter even as she seeks to (re) create the necro-cav bond with her. But that hatred doesn't seem to be mutual. And the bit about the daughter intervening when Harrow was whipped…

That's Harrow's subconscious saying if their roles had been reversed, "Gideon would have treated me better than I treated her. Gideon would have protected me."

The Ball AU also seems like a reasonable extension of Gideon's childhood query: "What if my other parent is the most important guy in the universe?" Answer: Emperor Dad would throw a big party.

But also… it's a bride-finding ball! That's so very telling. It could have been anything, but Harrow invents another scenario where she's fighting, competing to get to Gideon, to be awarded the role of her sworn partner (first cav, now bride), while outwardly claiming not to want it.

Now The BARI Star AU often gets described as a "coffee shop" one, but it's actually set in a cohort cafeteria. And normally I wouldn't split hairs over that, but I think the cohort setting is actually really significant. The Cohort was Gideon's dream, and also Harrow's rival for Gideon's attention. It's what she kept trying to leave Harrow for.

So now Harrow dreams that she's left Drearburh to join the cohort and will meet Gideon there. Not fight or compete for a role where they're bound to each other, but just meet her there. That feels like yielding. Like compromise. It makes me think Harrow's subconscious has matured past trying to keep Gideon with her always and is instead looking for ways that SHE can be with Gideon. Meet Gideon where she is.

(Also this may be a stretch, but I always find it low-key funny that Harrow imagines Gideon in the cafeteria… I like to think her brain is skimming lists of hypothetical military jobs like... what sees the least action... ah, coffee-adept, she'll be perfectly safe there...)

[thevoidstaredback]

Adventures In Gotham

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant Side Story

The first time Danny had ever been to Gotham, he swore it would be his last. He was twenty-two at the time.

In an effort to relax after finals had ended, he, Tucker, Sam, Val, Wes, and Dani had been playing a round of Truth or Dare after finishing a few movies. Sam had dared Danny to wander around Gotham without attracting attention to himself. The catch was that he wasn't allowed to use his powers except to fly there and back. His time limit was Sunday night.

They'd all been planning to stay the night at Sam's anyway, so no one would even notice he was gone. Though, the dare had seemed easy at the time, Danny should've realized his luck was not that good.

Regardless, he flew to the outskirts of Gotham City, dropped his transformation, and entered.

The first thing he noticed was that there was some kind of bubble around Gotham preventing the Shades and overall feel of death from leaving. It was overwhelming at first, but he got used to it pretty quickly. The next thing he noticed was that he had walked into somebody's haunt.

Shit.

He made himself presentable and spoke to the night, "I apologise for trespassing," His voice echoed through the open area as though he was shouting in an empty room. Ghost Speak tended to do that. "I mean no hostile intentions. I simply wish to play a game with your protectors." With any luck, whoever this was would be playful or friendly, at the very least. He didn't hold his breath, though.

A lie. He was holding his breath, but that's only because he was nervous!

The night air stilled as though considering his words. Then, a breeze from behind pushed him further into the city. Flapping wings of bats and owls seemed to hide the whispers of "You may come in." and "Be careful." and "You will lose." and "Good luck.".

A vote of confidence from the City Spirit. "Thank you." He was going to be as quick as he could, but he couldn't draw attention to himself. Easier said than done. Batman seemed to know whenever anyone ever stepped foot into his city, especially if they've never been there before. So, he had to play hide and seek with Batman and Robin.

Again, easier said than done.

Danny knows very little about about Gotham and her heroes and villains. What he does know is that Robin is fairly knew to the scene, but also very serious in what he does. He's still a child, though, and he likes to play around a bit. Batman, on the other hand, has already become something of a cryptid, despite only showing himself a year or so ago. Either way, the two balance each other nicely and work well as a team.

Batman and Robin obviously know the entire city inside out, so Danny has to somehow keep an eye on where they are at all times while not drawing attention to himself. Which would be easy, except for the fact that Danny can only sense where non-living beings are. Batman and Robin are very much alive. He's pretty sure. Unless either of them have a shit ton of Shades attached to them, which is unlikely but not impossible, then he'll have to rely on finding them first and keeping them within his sight as he tours around their city.

Why the hell did he agree to this? He so deserves a reward if he succeeds.

'When', not 'if'. 'If' is pessimistic and implies that Batman might just drop him off a building and watch him fall. 'When' at least lets him continue with the illusion that he may get out of this no deader than when he arrived in Gotham.

All he had to do was basically tour the city, then he'll be done. It went well for the first hour, but then he spotted the shadows moving around him. It wouldn't normally be a problem, but one of those shadows was made out of bright colours. Seeing as his Ghost Sense didn't go off, Danny figured the he'd just run straight into Batman and Robin.

Shit. Fuck. Okay, play it cool, Danny.

He ran. He ran as fast as he could without using his powers. When he was sure he'd lost the two vigilanties, he allowed himself to stop in an alley somewhere in the Narrows. (The map he looked at was coming in very handy all of a sudden)

"Could be worse," he said to himself, backing into a corner.

The sound of shattering glass and the scurrying of mice and rats gave the impression of laughter and taunting. Which, rude, but fair.

"Your Knights, my lady," he spoke into the darkness, "are terrifying."

"Who you talking to?"

Danny did not jump. He didn't! Liar.

The kid, about twelve years old, was in bright green, red, and yellow. His hair windswept and he didn't seem even the slightest bit out of breath, let alone tired. Shouldn't he be in bed? Did he have a bedtime? He should have a bedtime, in Danny's expert opinion.

"Did you know that humans are endurance hunters?" Robin had been smiling since he dropped down in front of Danny. And if that wasn't a scary ass line to hear from a twelve year old up way past his bedtime-

No, he's not intimidated. "It's, um, a good thing I'm not completely human then, huh?" Stupid, stupid, stupid! Shut up, Danny! Stop talking! Right now!

This made Robin frown and the shadows started to move again, Batman taking his place just behind the boy. "What do you mean?"

Damn, he's scary! Danny's a sucker for a deep voice with a growl, damn.

"I, um," Intelligent response, Danny. King of the Realm Between Realms of Infinity. Keeper of Balance, Timeless Protector of the Dead and Living, and he can't even form a proper sentence.

Batman and Robin's stares were uncomfortably similar, even as Robin tilted his head ever so slightly to the right.

For all his wisdom, Danny couldn't see how he could manage to get out of this without using his powers. So, "Gottagobye!" he let intangibility and invisibility wash over him and he slipped through the wall behind him. From there, he let the rings of light cover him and he flew away.

He'll take the L. That was scary as hell!

The night wind brushed against him, the sound of breaking bones and cackling telling him to come by to play again some time. Had Gotham's City Spirit lead her Knight and his child to Danny? Probably. She seemed like the type. At least she seems to like him? Silver linings.

"I'm never going there again," he muttered halfway to Illinois.

Storyboard

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[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Reader

Part 2 to this.

Thanks for the support guys, sending lots of love <3

It's been 2 years or so since you moved out of Gotham. Well. Not moved out moved out. You couldn't leave. Gotham was your home. And even with those painful memories of Jason demanding you to leave, he's still the same person who you shared those long-lasting kisses with, who texted you every 5 minutes while he was on patrol to make sure you were safe at home, who was able to give you the first, real experience of love and devotion for the first time in your life.

But now you feel numb. Every time you caught a glimpse of your reflection from puddles on the ground or the shine of a window, you saw that gut-wrenching, eerie grin of the Joker. The grin of your father who once killed your ex-boyfriend and your passionate love.

But you broke Jason's trust. Maybe if you told him sooner, he wouldn't have cast you out. Maybe he would've sat down for a second and realised you aren't the same person as your father.

Staying at the next town over beside Gotham wasn't a bad idea, however. You were able to reflect on yourself, realising that you had no power over your father, and there was physically nothing you could've done to save Robin. But you've repeated in your head over and over that you are not the Joker. You weren't the ones who committed those crimes. You weren't the ones who killed so many innocent people. The only guilt that would eat at you was that you were selfish and a coward to stand up to the Joker and at least attempt to save someone. Bht you didn't. And you hoped that if someone knew your name, who knew your story, that they'd understand. That they'd be scared, too.

You were able to buy a run down... apartment?..house? Whatever it was, it was, unfortunately, all you could've afforded at the moment. And worse, it reminded you too much of your room in the warehouse. Minus the dried blood. But it had a horrible stench of weed, which took you forever to get rid of.

Unlike the warehouse, however, you were at least able to make it a little more homey. You didn't have any furniture, but you did have a cleaner mattress plus bed sheets, knick knacks scattered across the floors, a fake plant, or two on the floor beside you bed. And lastly, though you really should move on, a framed picture of you and Jason. You put this directly beside your bed, where it would be the first thing you see in the morning.

You know that what Jason told you was cruel. You could never forget it. But you had the decency to understand him. He dated someone he trusted. And unfortunately that someone just happened to be the daughter of his murderer. Of course, he'd think you're working with the Joker. Especially if that camera footage showed that you showed no effort to help Robin.

So, what the hell have you been doing when you went away? Well, as said, you couldn't stay out of Gotham for very long. You always went in and out, just for the nostalgia. Just because you had bad memories in Gotham didn't mean you didn't have good ones either. You just assumed that since your leave, you've been fired from Bat Burgers, so you decided to avoid that vicinity for now.

The real reason, though, was the soup kitchen. You could never step foot inside ever again, in fear that Jason would still be volunteering there, and you wouldn't want him to have a breakdown. So you just anonymously dropped off bags of produce of whatever you could afford during the day and quickly departed without being seen. But you missed the kids. Yeah, Jason made you feel loved romantically, but those kids, they felt like family. And how you missed diane so much, too. She was like a mother to you.

It pained you that you couldn't go see the kids anymore, but as you heard them laugh and yell just from the other side of the entrance, you smiled. You always took quick glimpses of them, and some of them grew taller. Some of them formed freckles on their faces. But your smile would slightly falter when they mention how much they missed you. And by that time, you'd just drop off the bag and make your way back home.

You weren't proud of it, but when you found yourself completely broke, you decided, fuck it, and started nicking a things from grocery stores, just for you to survive. And in moments like them, you think to yourself... am I slowly becoming like...him? You shake your head, thinking that the Joker had committed the most heinous, unforgivable crimes, while vigilantes wouldn't really care for petty theft, and the cops wouldn't give two shits anyway, especially if it's only stores running on the poor side of Gotham being robbed.

God, how you hated the police system. They'd only help when the richies were being mugged. Even Batman neglected the poor. Sometimes, you'd smile when you'd see Jason helping the kids of Crime Alley. The memory warmed your heart. Too bad you couldn't make more memories similar to those ones.

You rushed your quick drop off of fruits and veggies to the soup kitchen. It wasn't much. You think an empolyee spotted you trying to conceal a small box of strawberries in your jacket.

You felt some familiarity when you turned to make a run for it when you ran into somethi- someone.

"oW- literally what the fuck-" You hiss, grabbing onto your scrunched up face, not noticing the person you walked into. "Watch where you're going, nit-" You looked up to glare at the person, but oh, how you could never forget those gorgeous green eyes. Those green eyes you fell too far in love with. The green eyes that would sparkle when its owner would rant about the new chapter he was reading in The Catcher in the Rye. The ones that used to look at you so lovingly. But now, it is replaced with burning resentment.

"You're the one not watching where they're going."

What a familiar setting. But instead of the joking tone of Jason correcting that you're the one not watching their step, he means it now. As if he was some stranger to you, annoyed that some rando foolishly walked into him and tried to blame him.

And suddenly, you're back at the Batcave. Suddenly, you're back on your knees, looking up at the hurt, screaming man who towered over you. Suddenly, you hear once more if I ever see you again, I'll end you.

You don't reply to his spiteful response. But you notice your breathing getting heavy. You try to make a run for it past him, but what he says next makes you stop.

"You're selfish for coming here," he grumbles, barely audible, but you hear it. You hear it so clearly. And it pisses you off. What the hell does that mean?

"I get you hurting me because I was Robin. Because I'm close to Batman. But coming here to hurt these kids?"

You turn to him, disbelief on your face. "Excuse me?" You spit.

"These kids did nothing wrong. So leave them alone. Leave Diane alone. Leave Gotham." He says, surprisingly pretty calm.

You already feel the tears brim your eyes. "Fuck you," you say quietly, choking out a sarcastic laugh as you turned to walk away. But before you can leave his line of sight, you turn to face him once more. "I didn't do shit, okay?! I made a mistake, but I didn't. Do. Shit,"you claimed as you walk away in a fast pace. And this makes Jason fume in anger. Yes, you did. You lied to him. He told you his secrets. You were about to give him up back to the Joker. You put his family that he worked so hard and long to make amends in jeopardy. Right?

Jason follows after you in anger, pulling you through a narrow alleyway. Luckily, the neighbourhood was quiet, and no one was around to see this private situation.

"Don't talk to me like you did nothing wrong," Jason hisses. And you yank yourself away from his grip.

"You never told me you were Arkham Knight. Why do I owe you who I was?!" You snarl at him.

"But I did!" He yells back. "At least I eventually told you because you were always nagging that I was out late! And you didn't even return the favour by telling me you're the daughter of someone I hate the most! You didn't commit any of the same crimes he did? Fine. But you're still an accessory. You stood there watching him torture me. And I bet you stood there with every other victim that he killed, feeling absolutely no remorse. That makes you just as disgusting as him."

By this time, tears were already rolling down your cheeks. Your cheeks burned red, and you could feel a headache forming.

"And the worst part," Jason continues quietly. "I still can't get you out of my head. A stupid itch at the back of my mind saying that I still love you," he says in shame.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. What the fuck? No. No, why the fuck would he say that. That's selfish of him.

"Fuck you!" You yell. "I'm sorry, Jason. I'm so fucking sorry, but I couldn't do anything! You saw it yourself! I was a kid, I couldn't do anything! I was scared! And I did NOT watch him torture you- I wasn't even aware you were there until he killed you! I didn't even remember it was you when I first met you!"

"BULLSHIT"

"IT'S NOT FUCKING BULLSHIT," you cried, panting, your adrenaline dying down. You rake your hair back, tangled between your fingers as your tears begin to dry up.

"I'm sorry, Jason," you sighed. "I really am, I- I'm sorry I couldn't save you. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was but.. but not telling you was protecting you! The fewer people who knew who I was, the safer everyone would be, especially after you told me that you're Red Hood..." You took a breath. "I spent my whole childhood believing my dad when he told me that no one could love me. But then I met you. You taught me how to love and- and how to be loved! And I fucked this up, and I'm sorry. But I'm too tired to keep arguing. I finally accepted that I'm not the same person as my father and- and I'm not going to let you take that away from me because it's the only thing I have left.."

Jason stares down at you. You have no idea what's going through your head, and right now, you don't have the energy to find out what it is. So, you slightly shake your head in defeat and start to wall out of the cramped alley.

"Oh," you say before leaving. "And for your information, I already left gotham. Just stopping for a visit," you mutter before finally leaving Hason on his own.

He shouldn't believe you. How can he trust you?

You arrived back at your house. Your body went limp, laying on the mattress as a final tear soaked through your pillow.

You absolutely hate how you know that you still love Jason Todd. He was the first person to ever help you what love truly felt like but also showed you how fast such a strong bond can crumble in a few minutes.

As Jason is remained to be alone in the alley, he thinks to himself. It's crazy. You've been raised by the Joker. The Joker. How are you raised by such an abomination but still be the most angelic, beautiful person to cross the planet.

He walks out of the alley and goes towards the soup kitchen where he'd start his volunteer work. Before he walks in, he notices the small bag that you left behind. He picks it up and opens it to see fruits and vegetables inside. He shrugs, not trying to think so much about it and heads inside.

As soon as he steps in, he's greeted by the kids, and his gave brightens in delight. But he sees some of the expressions falter.

"Where's Y/n?" One of them asks. "You two are always together... we haven't seen her for a long, long, loooong time," they frown.

Jason was about to awkwardly answer when Diane came up to him. "Jason, my dear boy! How was your rest, honey?" She asks. Ever since he found out you were the Joker's daughter, he couldn't work, he couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep. He didn't have the energy of volunteering, so he rang up Diane saying that he wasn't in the best spirits, in which she completely understood, saying that you would be around to help anyway. He was about to answer to say that he wasn't so sure about that, but Diane hung up, telling him to get a good rest, and that she'll see him soon.

Jason nods and sends her a sweet smile. "Yeah, thanks. Had a lot in my hands at the time," he explains, but Diane shakes her head.

"Don't even worry, sweetie. It's been calm the past few days," she says, looking down at Jason's hands, and a sad look reaches her eyes. "Is that from Y/n? She always left a bag of food outside, thinking she's slick. Tsk, foolish girl," she jokes. "She hasn't been around in a while. You two are dating, no? What happened? Of course, it's not my place to know. But I'm here if you need to talk, sweetheart," she says, placing a comforting hand to his cheek before walking back to the kitchen.

A little girl tugs on Jason's jacket.

"Jay-jay?" She calls out as Jason bends down to her eye level. "Is, N/n okay?" She asks, worry in her face. Jason attempts to send her a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure she's fine," he responds. "She's a big girl, like you. I'll check up on her to make sure she's okay, if that'll make you feel better," he offers.

"You promise?" She asks, holding her tiny pinky out.

Jason sighs. "I promise," he says, intertwining his larger pinky around hers.

Unfortunately for Jason, he never breaks a pinky promise to the kids. And he would never lie to them. So, on Jason's next scheduled patrol, he'll ditch and find you to make sure you're safe. That's it. Nothing else. He doesn't need to speak to you. Just a quick glance to see if you're not doing anything stupid.

Wait.

God fucking damn it.

You told Jason you already left Gotham. How the hell was he supposed to find you??

Shit, right. Diane said you always leave bags of food outside their door. So you couldn't have lived far, right?

Okay, he'll do a quick sweep of the ourskirts of Gotham, then he'll check the edge of the next town over.

It's been a long, tiring night, to say the least. He started searching the outskirts of Gotham around 6 pm and started his search of the next town from 1am.

He was about to give up his search when he heard a man yelling. He looks down to see a figure running out of a 24 hour convenient store as a man in a uniform yells after you. Jason rolls his eyes, hopping down to the roof to stop you.

You run pretty far, but you look back to see if the store owner was chasing you. You smile to see that you weren't being followed, but as you face back forward, your head hits against an extremely hard, metalic surface.

"Fuck! No- why!" You yell, pressing a palm to to your forhead, where the impact was laid. And low and behild, you see the infamous Red Hood standing in front of you.

"You know I'm always not looking where I'm going! Can you at least have the decency not to be in my way!" You hiss, swerving past him. "Besides, I don't want to speak to you," you mutter, heading home, which wasn't that far.

"I'm not here to talk. Anna just wanted me to check if you're safe." He claims as you scoff.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" You sarcastically say, grabbing the keys for your door. Jason inspects your house.

"This is where you live?" He blurts out with clear concern.

"What of it," you mumble, stepping in. Neither of you really commented on the fact that Jason let's himself in, continuing to critique your humble abode.

"There's mould and cracks everywhere," Jason says, looking around.

"Great observation, sherlock. Guess what? I don't care. It's a roof over my head, and it's a 10 times upgrade compared to the warehouse. At least there isn't dried blood everywhere," you say.

"What? You didn't have a proper room?"

"Joker wasn't really a 'world's greatest dad mug' kind of guy." You say, laying on the mattress, keeping one leg bent upwards as the other lays flat. One arm is tucked under your head as the other is laid over your eyes.

Jason wanders around the run-down bulding, looking at your belongings scattered on the floor, which used to sit on the shelves and windowsill of his much more comfortable apartment.

But a shimmer catches the corner of his eyes. He sees a frame, the picture turned away from him, directly beside where your head lies.

He cautiously walks towards you, taking a peek of the picture. And he could already tell, by the smiling faces and puckered lips of the photo, that it was his favourite picture of the two of you. He had a copy of the photo stuck in his room somewhere in his apartment.

And the guilt slowly eats at him.

"I'm sorry," Jason quietly says.

"For what?" You mutter, obvious that you're exhausted.

"Everything I said." He replies, sitting on the floor beside you. "For telling you to leave Gotham, thinking you were anything like the Joker... saying I'd kill you if I saw you again.. I didn't mean it," he says, his voice getting raspier by the second. "It was horrible of me to say."

"It's whatever, Jay... Jason," you reply, shifting to turn away from him, your back facing him. "I'd probably think the same if I were you."

His heart sunk.

"I should've believed you," he says, his voice raising a little. All he needs is for you to say you forgive him for saying all that shit. Because of him, you think so lowly of yourself, and that you love in such a horrible state, where instead the two of you could be cosy, wrapped in softer blankets in his bed in what ysed to be your shared apartment. He doesn't think he can take it if you think so harshly of yourself.

"But you didn't. And... and that's okay. I mean.." You try to hide your sniffle by burying your face into your pillow, but you aren't as discreet as you think as Jason obviously catches you. "I don't think anyone in this world would trust the daughter of a psycho," you try to joke, sending a weak, pathetic laugh.

"But you proved to me so many times that you aren't him. And I completely ignored all those times and started labelling you for someone you're not! How are you not mad- how are you not yelling at me?" Jason says, almost in a desperate whine. He needs some sort of emotional reaction from you. But you look so... dead.

You sigh as you sit up, avoiding eye contact. "Because you were right, Jason. You had every right not to trust me. I broke your trust by not telling you- I couldn't even save you."

Jason shakes his head vigorously. "No- No, no, no. Sweetheart, no," he didn't mean for the nickname to slip out, but no one mentions it. He reaches for your hands, which fit so perfectly in his larger ones. He held your hands in his grasp, pulling them to his chest, making sure you're looking at him.

"I was wrong- It wasn't your responsibility to save me. You were a kid- we were both kids! There was nothing we could've done. We were both kids dragged into Batman and Joker's stupid game of theirs! This isn't either of our faults! And you didn't tell me you were Joker's daughter... and that's okay. I'm sorry it took so long for me to understand why you didn't tell me. The Joker is wrong, Y/n. You can be loved... You are loved. Because I love you so much that it hurts," he admits, brushing strands of your hair away from your face so that he can look into your eyes. And you can look back into his. His gorgeous green eyes that can finally see love again. "And I understand if you don't lo-"

"I love you so much, Jay," you sniffle, smiling at him. Jason's eyes soften as he smiles, his head leabing forward and his lips resting on your forhead. "I'm sorry," you say, and Jason just shushes you, but you continue. "And I forgive you for what you said to me," you quietly say, shifting to lean your head on his shoulder.

"I forgive you, too, my love," Jason replies, his hand reaching up to softly caress your cheek. "I'll stay the night. Okay? Then tomorrow, first thing, you pack your stuff and move back in with me, okay?"

You smile as you nod, your tears finally withering away as you lie down in your bed, watching Jason strip off his heavy armour, laying in with you in just his tactical pants and compression shirt on. He wraps his arms around you in a warm embrace, and suddenly, you feel safe again. You feel warm again.

You feel loved again.

I'm so sorry if this is ass 😭. I really wanted this finished, and it's like 2am. But i really hope you'd still enjoy!! 🙏🙏

Taglist 🏷: @tyrone200 @pank0w @lorosette @havlindzk @achromaticerebus @demonicparalysis @fairyeoll

sorry if you requested part 2 and was not tagged, maybe because of mention priv settings? nonetheless, i hope you like it!

[love-toxin]

Two words: Ghostface. Sandwich.

hmmhrhrgrgrgegehegghh........ok bear with my rambles for a second. i love the idea of the two of them pinning you as their next target and trying to figure out all the plans. you're perfect cause you're cute and you'd make real pretty screams and they'd probably both whack off to seeing your blood but when they start getting close to putting things in action, of course, Stu starts stalling.

(cws: DDDNE, extremely fucked up n-consent, drinking/drugging, blood, gore, afab reader, you have been warned)

"C'mon Billy, she might be a virgin, we should get in her pants first." he begs, partly because he wants exactly that--to fuck you lifeless--but also because there's a teensy-weensy sliver in him that doesn't really want you to die. meanwhile Billy's mostly mad that you're actually a lot more tolerable than he thought once they start getting close to you, trying to get your guard down, because it's way harder to kill a chick that laughs at his jokes and plays along with his edgy compliments over a frigid bitch.

plus, Stu's right. you're hot. and he really loves it if you're insecure, cause it makes your reactions to him telling you you're pretty, you're smart, you're funny, so much sweeter. you don't fall for stuff easily and he likes that. likes the potential to watch you act like you know what's going on only for your heart to sink when you realize shit's getting real. but Stu will keep ruining it by getting all sappy and coming to your rescue when they call your house, and cooing at you as he tells you it's all right--it's not all right, he keeps messing up their plans--but Billy has to begrudgingly go along with it as they stash the costumes and knives to go play prince to your damsel in distress.

and imagine if you have a boyfriend--some dickhead that doesn't know his ass from his elbow, whose antics you tolerate despite being so out of his league. Stu has a very obvious crush on you but Billy broods a lot over it, and despite wanting to torment you with killing both of you at the same time, the two of them can't help it and end up slaughtering your little side piece while you're not around to watch. he can't explain it, he just wanted him gone. something dark stirred in him whenever he watched that asshole brag about how much of a bimbo you were or the size of his dick--if only he could make him watch when he and Stu got ahold of you, and finally made you scream.

but that has to come second to the main plan. killing you is what really matters. gutting you, flaying you open like a fish, standing over you as you choke on your own blood....it should make him feel more excited, but for some reason it doesn't. not when it's you. it's less enticing the better he gets to know you, and after awhile he wants to kill you just cause you're so damn irritating; taking up his thoughts and muddling his feelings and shit. really, he should just break into your house at night, fuck you while you're still half-asleep, and stab you before you even know what's happening. but he won't and it sucks cause he kinda likes you. he's got a crush. fucking embarrassing.

soooo....he just takes it out on you when he and Stu finally get you at the perfect moment. there's a party at Stu's house and everyone's left by around 2 am, drunk and falling over themselves as they bid farewell and head home for the night. everyone except for you, who's passed out on Stu's couch completely drunk because of--you guessed it--peer pressure. you barely even open your eyes when Stu flops down on top of you, giggling stupidly with a hand up your shirt as he kisses your sleepy lips. Billy's already pissed that his best friend made you drink so much cause you can't even fight back now, where's the fun in that? he wanted to feel you kick and squirm and cry as he held you down, but at least you're pliable enough that they don't have to wait. silver linings, he supposes. at least your little pink panties are cute. did you wear them for somebody, or are they just something you feel pretty in? the two of them toss them between each other while you lay barely conscious, and Billy mocks him for sniffing them so much before stuffing them in his own back pocket like a hypocrite. he'll use them to get off later when he's thinking about this before bed.

honestly, he wants to prove to himself that he can hurt you. he's a cold-blooded killer! a psycho! yet somehow some little cutesy whore is the obstacle that stands between him and his requisite bloodletting. killing you is like a mountain to climb for him, but every time he tries to scale it, it grows steeper. he planned on just taking what he wanted from you and leaving you with some nasty bruises to cry about in the morning, but his body has other ideas--he takes his time, he kisses you, rubs your clit to watch you shake and for those drunken mewls to slip out of your mouth. he gets into it a little too deep and mutters into your ear things that you won't remember; "you're so fucking cute", "gonna make it feel good", "bet you love this, huh?" and all manner of filth while Stu gets handsy and tongues at you between your legs. their plans fall through again and you survive the night, but does he really care now? does it matter?

cause when you wake up, you won't remember most of what happened. but you're pretty sure something did, and instead of relishing in your pathetic tears Billy takes the chance to comfort you. some random guys took advantage of you while you were drunk? it's okay. he's here. Stu's here too. they'll protect you, won't they? they're your closest friends by this point, and you're just so vulnerable you need someone to take care of you--that's what Billy insists, anyways, wanting to solidify that thought while you're in such a fragile headspace. you just have to trust them implicitly. drink whatever they give you and do whatever they tell you to. listen to them and only them and take their advice, they know what's best for you. that's what friends are for.

[stil-lindigo]

Hey, I just wanted to share something with you, as someone who's so invested in the Palestine conflict, I hope it might inspire hope, even a little.

I was born and live in Egypt, a very conservative and religious country. These days I deleted my Tiktok and rarely ever use Twitter, as I'm in my senior year, and seeing the constant deaths and torture was getting into me so much that I couldn't even eat or drink properly, nevertheless properly study. I honestly am not proud of myself for doing so, but there's comfort in the fact Egypt is so Pro-Palestine. There's a lot to be done, and even for people like me, we can help.

My school has been donating food, clothes and blankets to Palestine. The McDonald's in here have been trying to distance themselves, claiming they're "100% Egyptian", only to get mocked and insulted. I go by the local McDonald's, there's a lot of schools where I am, around 5 in two blocks, and where before they were constantly so full, these days they're so empty. I can only see maybe 3, 4 people in there. A lot of people in my school are on a complete strike, against every American product. We've resorted to buying and getting local products instead. Egypt is doing very poorly economically at the moment, but there's still a lot of effort into knocking out American products, even if not by the companies, by the youth and the children. I can't go a single class without one of my teachers openly supporting Palestine. My Arabic teacher constantly uses the people in Gaza to teach me grammar, calling them brave and courageous. My geography teacher denies Isreal, and has been in league with others to get more donations and aid. Egyptians believe so truly that Palestine will be free that it's hard not to think so too. I've had classmates openly agree that if they could, they'd join the army to help fight for Palestine, I've seen more people than ever mocking the current regime, I've seen more people than ever falling out of the American illusion and seeing it for what it is. I've spent a lot of religion classes being taught Arabic brotherhood and chivalry, when previously, the lessons were stereotypically conservative in nature and I used to despise them for it.

Yes, the government sucks like every other, but there's an air of open support in here. No one is losing their jobs for stating the truth, homes and shops are waving the Palestinian flag. Even the antisemitism, which was rampant, has seen a noticeable decline. People in here stand for Palestine.

I want to also let you know you've been an inspiration for people, or at least, to me. I want to be able to participate more, and I see your reposts and reblogs and I want to do even more than what I did at the start, which was retweeting and reposting and sharing what I can to my friends. Unfortunately due to my current living situation and my terrible memory, I missed being able to donate to the school, but they have stated to open up donations again soon, and I'm preparing in advance for that one. I was not raised Zionist, but I was raised warned against participating in political affairs, saying I'd be put in more trouble, and even could be killed. But I see you and I see so many Americans losing their jobs and being branded criminals and as moral failures for speaking out, and I find it harder and harder in me not to also speak out. And even if I'm not constantly retweeting and reposting, there is something I can do. You helped me realize that, and I'd like to thank you.

I hope this cheers you up even a little, I've noticed your posts these days expressing how much this has been upsetting you. It's been upsetting to all of us, and I want you to know that it's not fruitless, no matter how many western countries and how many bootlickers make you feel otherwise. This ordeal has taught me the world is a brotherhood, politics and money are never a reason for why we should not stand together, and why we shouldn't speak for those having their voice silenced.

Please excuse me if something comes off wrong or unnatural. Like I said, I was born and I live in Egypt, English is not my first language and I still have issues communicating my personal thoughts in it. Please never don't stand for Palestine. Please never lose hope for it, like the Egyptians never have and never will. Please never let people make you feel hopeless and insane.

Thank you for listening to me, thank you for caring about Palestine when it would've been easy not to. Thank you for using your platform, and if you found it in you to read this thing, thank you for giving time to a brown Arab, when the world so strongly encourages you not to. Please continue to inspire justice, and I hope the world one day continues to inspire hope for you.

😭 anon, I cant explain how much I appreciate you sending this message. I know there is hope for Palestinian liberation, I know that we will see freedom for Palestine. But god do I need the reminder sometimes that we aren’t all just shouting into the void. My country of Australia shamefully takes a cowardly stance on Palestine, always deferring to the US to guide our foreign policy, and yet always claims moral superiority over other countries such as yours. Thank you, really thank you so much for sending this message. I feel so so honoured to have earned an audience that includes you. I believe an audience does reflect an artist, and to know I have done you proud in any way makes me feel full.

And please don’t ever feel ashamed of your English, you are eloquent and have a wonderful, compassionate voice, and you have inspired hope in me for yet another day.

[animeniac-writings]

The Seven Deadly Sins And The Common Cold

Getting sick at the HoL and sending almost everyone you know into sheer panic.

You're laying in bed feeling like shit trying to sleep off a cold, sweaty and clammy and moaning trying to get comfortable, unaware of the many fretting around you.

Demons hardly get sick, and with everything in Devildom that's already dangerous for humans, medicine they'd have would surely kill you.

Solomon is far less helpful than any suspected, also concerned that you will now die. As much as he frequents the human realm, relatively up to date on the world and trends and a good amount of media and fashion, he hasn't paid that much attention to medical advances in the last few hundred years.

Satan is the only one who MIGHT have semi-useful knowledge from some caring-for-your-sick-lover trope stories he's read.

Belphie is in a deep sleep with one wrist around your ankle, laying at the foot of your bed and determined to will you good dreams in your 'last moments'.

Asmo cries because he truly notices how much your sickness has effected you, anyone can see you're sick but he pays such close attention, with spa days and finding the best products and applying them himself, to seeing how miserable and unhealthy your are he is distraught. He does his best to try and make you more comfortable, and tearfully demands Solomon do something.

Mammon has gone to beg the witches to save your life, he'll owe them whatever they wish if they will help you (luckily he gets a call to come home before he signs his immortal life away)

Beel wants you to eat, he always makes sure you have enough, and this morning he was worried from the start when you told him there was no way you could stomach anything.

Lucifer has given up trying to calm everyone else down and called Diavolo about your state, admitting failure on his lack of knowledge already a feat and anyone can see how affected he is by his disheveled appearance and how frequently he goes to your room to check in on you.

Diavolo is worried as soon as he hears you're sick, and the well concealed strain to Lucifer's tone when he tries to sound level listing what ailments he can tell. Another demon advisor points out how terrible it would be for the program if their human were to die, and he glares at them with hellfire's fury in his eyes. He's concerned for you, and would be heartbroken if anything happened, he will visit you as soon as he can.

Barbatos calms his worries and tells him you will be fine, he had picked up some human realm remedies in advance for when the time came and will take you a special blend of safe and effective tea. If he couldn't see the future, he would be much more worried. Though he still feels guilty you have to suffer through it.

Levi is a wreck. He blames himself, he blames everyone else, if you had just stayed in, stayed in his room especially, this never would have happened. You never would have went out and got sick- he spends much of the time in his tank for comfort and pleading with Henry 2.0 that you don't die. It doesn't help that you rejected his offer to watch anime with him this morning- despite the look on his face you just couldn't accept.

Solomon at least has the hindsight to bring the angels in on this. Even with similarly lacking knowledge on human sickness, they are known for healing abilities even if that's not their specialty.

They arrive as soon as they're contacted, Luke with tears in his eyes and hugging your stomach tightly as soon as he reaches your bed.

Satan is already there, having woke you and forcing you to stay awake long enough for him to spoon feed you some of the (slightly questionable) Devildom equivalent of "chicken" soup he made. It smelled delicious, and not at all like chicken soup, was slightly purple and would be very tasty, yet you're woefully unable to discern either of those.

Simeon, though not adept in it, gives you a healing blessing. The moment his lips touch you overheated forehead you breathe a sigh at the bit of relief he brings. Your sore throat eases, the congestion in your chest lessens, and the migraine dissipates at his touch. You take a deep breath (through both nostrils!) and nearly ask for him to do it again.

But you're exhausted, significantly relieved, and the call to sleep fueled by Belphie's touch pulls at you, unable to resist.

You vaguely register Mammon bursting through your door in the last moments before you drift to sleep, he's hushed by Asmo who busies himself changing the cool rag on your forehead and trying not to bite his nails. Luke quietly asks Simeon to teach him how to heal like that, and makes him assure you will be better soon.

And you finally receive some well needed, actual rest. Despite some of their shortcomings on the matter, you have so many that love and care for you making sure you will be better, and have many a caretaker prepared to tear apart the realms for you if need be.

[thewertsearch]

Damn. Well, it's not like you actually needed it to fly. Hope you made a note of its code!

I love that WV is just chilling with John now, as he meanders around the Battlefield. The Vagabond is a bit of a wanderer too, so they make a good pair.

AG: Your guardians are not here! EB: oh… EB: dang it! EB: do you know where they are? AG: Yes, they are in another castle. Don't worry, you'll find them later.

Sorry, John. According to gaming tradition, you'll need to explore seven different castles to find what you're looking for.

AG: John, are you mad at me? EB: um… no?

He genuinely isn't, is he?

If any of the other kids learned of Vriska's role in their session's downfall, they'd be ready to throw down - but for John, it's no biggie. He's practically forgotten about it already.

Nothing really fazes this kid, from life-threatening situations to startling family revelations. At least, nothing appears to faze him - but he can't no-sell the game's trials forever. Maybe he's just putting them all in the Vault.

AG: Then what's the matter? EB: i guess i just miss my dad. i was hoping he would be here, but apparently i won't see him for another few hours or whatever? […] AG: I still find it a little hard to understand the sentimentality you attach to these adult humans. […] EB: i guess you just have to think of them the way you think of your lusus..ses? Lusi? […] AG: Except I never liked mine that much. ::::\ AG: Even after I prototyped her, things were pretty chilly 8etween us! I spent most of my adventure avoiding her. Haha.

Fuck, I've never really thought about that. Vriska was stuck with Spidermom for the entire game - and now she could abuse her verbally, too.

That’s... incredibly shitty, actually. Most Sburb Players get to leave their oppressors behind, but Vriska’s became her guide.

EB: why would i be mad at you, vriska? AG: 8ecause I tricked you into getting killed!!!!!!!! EB: oh. right. EB: i… actually almost forgot about that! AG: Would it help if I said I was sorry?

Something very strange is happening to Vriska, here.

She’s killed before – countless times – and she’s never shown anything close to this level of remorse. Sure, she tried to make things up to Aradia, but that never got very far. Vriska just wanted to 'fix' things with her apology gift, and didn't seem to care about Aradia's own feelings. It was too self-centered to be a true apology.

For the first time ever, Vriska's not making an apology all about her, and she isn't ruining it with the insults that are normally so ubiquitous among the trolls. I think it's the first time she's apologized and meant it, and it might signal the beginnings of an actual change.

Among her many crimes, Vriska’s 'murder' of John is relatively mild - but I think it's hitting her much, much harder than the others. She's so worried about ruining things with him that she's apologizing like a human.

[matan4il]

911 ep 704 first watch reactions

IDK if anyone else will talk about this, but Josh and Maddie were a great comedic start to this ep! XD Also. Interesting choice to give Josh, the currently only openly gay male character on the show, more lines again. Is it a reminder he's there, so he can be a part of Buck's journey later on? *eyes emoji* We'll see.

All of these pretty women (I should also mention that as a non-American, all the gasped, "It's Joey!" "It's you!" "It's me!" are missing me by a kilometer. Whoever Joey is, he's not Madonna yet, if you want me to get excited about him, 911, you're gonna have to give me a bit more than a single name), hitting on Buck and Eddie, and the ease with which both men turn them down... Sure, this is a part of the set up regarding Buck, and Eddie technically has an excuse, but also. Most straight, taken men would at least be tempted. They'd at least bite their lips with frustration. Have some reaction. But not Eddie. And when you remember that he was distinctly not taken in ep 204, but still had the same reaction to pretty young women hitting on him and Buck... I know this ep is all about celebrating the 'oh' moment of another guy, but that's not gonna stop me from rooting for Eddie to have similar realizations eventually (and get together with that certain other guy *cough*).

LMAO So, Buck is meeting up with the guy who's gonna be his sexual awakening, a man who's good looking, gave him a thrill already, is an impressive fighter pilot, and the first thing he can think of to say, is blurt out Eddie's name? LMAO Oh, this boy really is down bad...

Man, that bit where Tommy tells Buck he can have it both ways, he can get certified and continue to serve with the 118. Thanks for the beautiful foreshadowing, 911. Buck saying he's keeping his options fluid... Holy shit, the show really wasn't holding any punches back.

OMG, why is Harry old enough to be making Bathena waffles (and then turn out to be involved in an altercation)? I swear, he was still on baby formula just a second ago. How did 7 seasons just fly by!?

Buck getting jealous over Eddie and Tommy sparring. Considering the fact that Buck was the one getting all hot and bothered over semi-naked Eddie in the gym in 201, and ready to jump into a boxing match with him, this is making me wanna punch a wall myself. The symbolism in this ep is NOT very veiled. Add to that Eddie mentioning how he and Tommy met and just... clicked. In the same conversation that reminds us of Buddie' in 201's first meeting, where they clicked? (even though they were both too dumb to realize in what way) 911, just let me catch my breath for a second challenge! Also, Eddie is dating Tommy more intensely than he is Marisol? Okay. Duly noted. These firefighters are both so freaking hetero, I'm sure that's exactly what every casual viewer was telling themselves at this point. And poor Buck, getting his hopes up that Eddie is asking him when he's free, so they can go on a date themselves, only to be let down. Poor baby boy. But this feels like it's spelling out the answer to whether Buck's jealous over Tommy or Eddie. So, yay for Tommy helping him with his bi awakening. But it's clear who's really occupying Buck's heart and mind, and whose time he wants. FOR SIX FREAKING SEASONS NOW.

Oh, it's continuing, the show really is trying to kill me, having Buck complain to Maddie about how often Eddie has been seeing Tommy. The annoyance with how cool Tommy is, that's exactly Buck's reaction to Eddie in 201. So, if Buck and Tommy will then kiss, what does that say about what Buck didn't even realize he wanted to happen with Eddie back then, hmmm? I also love that Buck wants to be the cooler "dad's friend" in Christopher's eyes. That's his son, you can't take that away from him. And of course, Maddie was his first confidante about his feels for Eddie, she was the first one to call out his boy crush (in 204) and to hear Buck automatically think about Eddie, when he hears, "He's cute!" (in 206). It's so freaking right that she is now the witness to Buck's bi jealousy meltdown. I love her calling him out on it. "Is it circled with a heart around it?" Honestly, this is better than front row seats at the Bachelor mansion. I'm just disappointed in Chimney and his imaginary popcorn that he doesn't get to witness all of this firsthand and get what it means. Letting down all Bachelor fans out there, Chim. -_-

And then Buck's back in the gym, staring at Eddie, feathers ruffled. Am I going to make it to the end of this ep? Who cares? This is fantastic! XD He tries to catch Eddie's attention with the little weightlifting without a spotter stunt, and it's specifically him. Chim turned out to also be impressed by how cool Tommy is, but Buck is circling Eddie, like a clueless Jane Austen heroine, about to become a hit teen romance movie. Ravi falling for Buck's weightlifting attention trap is just getting in the way. Chim asking about Buck's weird basketball hugging session is nothing but a way to get to the ball game with Eddie. Okay, I'm at the point where I need to be chewing on imaginary popcorn.

Athena is one of the strongest characters on television, ever. Precisely because she's not just tough when she has to be, she has a heart, too. The scene where she told the woman she accidentally killed her own son was hard to just watch. IDK how she actually did that. I'm not sure if viewers who aren't moms get it, 'coz I didn't until I went with my sister through her pregnancy. Motherhood changes you forever. You feel your kid moving inside you. You bond with them in the most intimate way possible before they're even born. You go on a wild journey with them after, where every second counts, let alone every hour and every day, when they're hungry, when they're cold, when they struggle to sleep, when they finally do, when they take their first step, when they fail and fall... The love and protectiveness are something different to anything else in life. IDK how Athena, who gets all of this, managed to break the news to this mother, that she had unknowingly killed her own kid. I think to me, this has to be the most devastating scene in the entire history of the show. IDK if I'll be able to watch it again.

When basketball game scene starts, and Chimney knows something's up, I was already chuckling. But then Eddie sees them, and the first thing isn't expressing joy that his best friend is there, it's asking how did Chim talk him into this. "He always says no to me." They BOTH always talk about each other in romantic coded language, it's not just Buck, and in the same ep where we get bi Buck confirmed, that makes me froth at the mouth...

"So I'm your basketball beard. I feel so bonded." Not Chimney calling Buck out, while using the term for closeted gay guys using someone as a cover. I AM SCREAMING. Thank you, 911 gods!

That montage with Eddie and Tommy high fiving each other right in front of Buck's salad face, while their muscles glisten in the sun, and Top Gun-like music plays in the background, like the biggest nod to the volleyball scene from that gayest movie ever made, which we already had Buddie paraphrasing in 201. I am fine, this is fine. I love this burning kitchen I'm sitting in.

Buck causing Eddie's injury because of his jealousy (which again, is not about Tommy. He made an impression on Chim as well, who was screaming, "Buck, I'm open! I'm OPEN!") and not even getting to offer some help, because Tommy's already on it... I hope ABC is happy with their viewership dropping next week, because they've killed every Buddie shipper in the fandom.

"Well, I'm not a 14 year old girl..." Both Buck and Maddie together: "So stop acting like one." Love this scene, love these siblings, love that the reference with the two blonde Sarahs sounds platonic, but it's also from a past season on the Bachelor. 911 really wants you to know this is romantic, and Buck's going through a late sexual awakening in his 30's, instead of in his teens, even before he's able to see it.

So, the conclusion to Buck and Maddie's convo is that he needs to talk to Eddie, to make it better, yet the person he ends up talking to is Tommy, and that leads to the bi awakening kiss... It's a classic rom com switch, we hear a knock at the door, we expect it to be THE love interest, showing up at the right time, and it's someone else, making the protagonist's romantic journey so close, but about to get longer. It's further emphasized by a shot over Tommy's shoulder, in a way that he can easily be confused for Eddie, and which is reminiscent of moment when we saw Buck standing at Eddie's door, or both of them there toegther.

It was a nice talk, I loved Tommy saying he can't replace Buck, I def noticed how he went to talk about it in the context of Chris instead of Eddie (hmmm... I wonder why), but my fave part was how Buck glowed when he heard his son doesn't shut up about him. ^u^ He even took a second to look away from Tommy, to take it in with a huge grin. Then Buck and Tommy start warming up to each other, moving towards flirtation, and what comes out of Buck's mouth? "You don't have to tell me how great Eddie is." That's not how you flirt with a guy, Buck. I liked Tommy kissing him, and Buck not recoiling. Like he's always known on some level, but could never do anything about it. "That's better than fake mouth static." LOL The stuff that great romance is made of.

I'm SO happy Buck is getting this storyline of realization he's bi, I've thought it would be important and that the show has laid some groundwork for it since 107, and I don't mind that Tommy is the "romantic other" who helps him with it. I do believe this is important bi representation in and of itself, away from Buddie, and if nothing else ever comes of it, this is still beyond wonderful. In 2024, we still barely have any characters who start out presumed straight, and are allowed the freedom to figure out that maybe their sexual orientation is different than what they thought, despite the fact that in reality, human sexuality is complex and confusing and a mess. So this really matters to me, as a human being, and as a queer person. That said, I can't ignore the past 5 seasons, and the way this storyline played out, with Tommy kissing Buck, but the whole thing being emotionally centered around Buck's feelings for Eddie, it means that whether they go canon or not (and at this point, I find it hard to believe they'd make Buck canonically bi, taking this HUGE risk of homophobic backlash, and not go there with him and Eddie, but just in case they don't, I wanna say this), it'll always be Buddie for me.

Thank you for reading! If you're looking for more, you can find my s7 reactions tag here, and more of my Buddie meta and content in my pinned post. xoxox

[thesummerestsolstice]

My Headcanon Crafts for the House of Feanor:

Nerdanel: a sculptor; about the best in all of Valinor. Many of her early sculptures were praised, but also seen as a bit strange because they looked so real, but no one could identify any model they'd been based off of. Later, it would be recognized that she'd sculpted several of her own children, long before they were born.

Maedhros: an actor. Back in Valinor, he often played romantic leads in comedies and tragedies alike. He was very dramatic back in the years of trees, but got more subdued in Middle-Earth for... obvious reasons. A few of the posters for plays he was in made their way to Middle-Earth and got passed around Himring like contraband.

Maglor: a bard. While he often composed his own songs, he was also one of those charged with memorizing the old oral history of the Quendi– the elven equivalent of like, being able to memorize and recite the Iliad. Much of this early Elvish history was almost lost by the end of the First Age, and Maglor attempted to preserve it by writing it down. Eventually, those books ended up saved in Rivendell's library.

Celegorm: a hunter in Orome's train. Was famous for his ability to hit quickly moving targets through the thick forests of Valinor, even when mounted. He also enjoyed making various things out of the pelts, teeth, claws, and antlers of his kills. He's made very nice fur coats for several of his siblings and cousins.

Caranthir: a fiber artist; mostly focusing on weaving and embroidery. He's not sure whether to feel flattered or vaguely worried by all the Miriel comparisons. He insisted on making most of his family's formal clothing because all of Feanor's kids can get at least a little craft-related hubris. As a treat.

Curufin: a smith. His father was most famous for his jewelry, but Curufin would come to be known mostly for his weapons. They were so reliable that many of them lasted until the Third Age. There are rumors he poured some of his soul into the weapons he made for his brothers. But those are only rumors.

Amras & Amrod: painters. They specialized in incredibly detailed landscape paintings. I say "they" because all their works were done together; Amrod would make the sketch and darker linework and Amras would add the colors and shading. Their work was often very nostalgic and peaceful, with bright watercolors and gentle shadows.

Bonus! Feanor saved a lot of his kids' work from when they were really young and just starting their crafts. It's all what you'd expect from a small child's art, but Feanor still acts like they're masterpieces. His kids all think it's super embarrassing but he's really proud of them.

Headcanons for Finwe and his Children, the House of Fingolfin, the House of Finarfin, and the rest of the House of Finwe. Thanks for asking about Finwe's grandkids @hyperlexia-1 :)

[imtotallyokandnormal]

I can’t imagine how confusing wanting to be hurt for sexual reasons would be for John after everything XD it would have to be very slow, but once he got the hang of it and after many reassurances, they would have a blast.

Ohhh my god ok ok listen I'll explain everything as I write it but...let's just say he will not like it at first-

Reader: gn reader (no genitals described)

Warnings: nsfw, masochism, John gets very worried but ends up very horny, John can be interpreted as dominant or submissive (I believe in Switch Doe Supremacy)

Image link: how are y'all? Tell me about your day

》☆John Doe x Masochist You!☆《

- Sex with John usually is pretty vanilla, because John doesn't know exactly how humans prefer sex and also because he's afraid of giving into his desires and hurting you in the process. So you could imagine they were extremely confused and surprised to say the least when they found out that's actually what you wanted!

- Whether you asked him to do something pretty kinky or even just something small like giving you a hickey, their reaction would be the same; completely stopping and just staring at you with the widest "what the fuck??" eyes possible.

- "...my dear- I thought humans didn't- like to be hurt-??? Why would you want me to hurt you???-"

- On their shirt (yes in this scenario the shirt stays on because I think it's funny) it's just a bunch of ???

- Even if you tried to explain it to them they'd still be extremely confused. I hope you don't mind the mood being ruined by him asking a bunch of questions because honestly he'd be too confused and worried to continue until they entirely understand.

- John would be trying to just process the fact that even after everything he's done to accidentally hurt and even kill you, you still want them to hurt you? But in a different way? Honestly they really wouldn't get it and would be apologizing for not being able to understand.

- You'd have to start out slow for him to get warmed up to it, like just gentle bites on the shoulder or something along those lines. John would tell you to tell him if it hurts too much, they still don't want it to go too far. Honestly they'd be really nervous about it, arms around your waist as he gently does as you ask.

- Your reactions are what get them to start liking it. If you moan or whimper, maybe move against them a bit, that's when their world opens up. Seeing you enjoy him giving in to his less than gentle nature, even if it's a little bit at a time...oh, it'd start to drive him wild.

- The more you beg him to keep going, the more you urge them on to do more things, to go harder, the quicker John starts to feel the adrenaline rush. You liked this- you liked their form of love, the form he tried taming to protect you. In this context, you even loved it. And you wanted more- oh, he'll fucking give you more.

- They'll start getting rough as you continue, maniacally giggling to themselves as they start to do everything they've been holding back to protect you. He'd get a little drunk on it honestly, seeing you enjoy it so much. It makes them want to see the full extent of your pleasure. They want to see you at your climax, begging or even demanding for him to please, please never stop.

- You'll be completely covered in marks by the time you both are through with each other. Of course John still exercised restraint, and if you asked them to stop they wouldn't even hesitate, but seeing the aftermath of his love decorating your skin, even if it's slight...good lord, it makes him absolutely smitten.

- Oh by the way John gives the fucking BEST aftercare this side of The Uncanny Valley, they are absolutely giving you everything you need. Snacks, a bath, anything you requested would be there in seconds flat. Anything to show you the love you want and need. But it really does make them happy seeing you enjoy a form of love he's more familiar with giving.

[salemoleander]

BigB brings a pickaxe down against the soft limestone. It's not dirt, or loam, or even sand, but it makes him think of a burrow. Something safe to hide in.

He knows he's acting strangely, knows the others didn't all beeline to complete their tasks. But the second he opened that letter anxiety wound up his spine, like seaweed ready to pull him under. So, y'know. Might as well deal with it now? He keeps digging.

Digging and saying hi to Scar and being mean to Scar so he leaves and digging and digging. The prickling fear under his skin only abates once he's well underground, in the coolness. Not 'all the way down' yet, but the tension in chest eases.

Finally, some measure of peace. BigB supposes the 'and quiet' has been there the whole time, and he laughs quietly at his own joke. Leans against the wall at the bottom of the pit to rest. He's tired and achy and a tiny bit mad. Of course his task would make him miss out on the chance for allies. Well, maybe if he keeps–

A ghostly hand swats past his head, nails sharp and flesh see-through.

BigB whips to the side, looks around, again, again, and sees nothing. Just faint dust motes and occasional grains of sand falling from above.

It's not even cold? Or whatever ghosts are supposed to make happen, he's not sure.

Sighing, BigB says, "If you're here to kill me, can you at least make it entertaining, man? This task sucks."

His voice bounces and echoes strangely off the stone around him. Nothing responds.

He gives a forced laugh, lowers his head, and keeps digging.

His peace is interrupted not too many minutes later, after he's clambered back to the top to gather more wood for picks. BigB hears footsteps, and then Grian slides the last few blocks down an incline of sand into the cave.

Grian grins at him. BigB smiles back, slow and easy. Last game they'd ended allies, and that has helped a lot to loosen tensions. Still not interested in a day 1 alliance, though. Doubt submerged in friendliness, he greets Grian and asks what he's up to.

"Just bouncing around! Day 1, you know how it is." Grian seems energized, a bit furtive– normal Grian stuff. He looks past BigB, and an indent appears between his eyebrows. "Uh, what's with the hole, B?"

He has a defensive answer lined up, something circuitous and confusing about Jimmy and broken mineshaft generation and new stripmining techniques. Can't let anyone know your secret, after all; even if Grian's sly smile indicates he's probably just going to joke a bit and let it go.

Instead, BigB opens his mouth, and the words that crawl out are, "I don't know, G, where do the tasks come from?"

It's not a question that makes sense, not really. The tasks don't have to come from anywhere! BigB may just be overthinking it, or underthinking it, or something. And he shouldn't have even said that, because it might be giving away his task. Why did he say that?

There's a fire behind the words, anger that scrapes and burns on its way out. He's not sure why that's there either.

Color high on his cheeks, Grian says, "I'm not sure, er– not sure, yeah."

BigB knows he's lying. To be fair, he thinks most people could tell Grian was lying– he's not very good at doing it on the spot.

The smells of acrid smoke and dirt and sea-salt are there and then gone. His hand tremors; he tucks it through a belt loop.

Tasks don't have to come from anywhere, except these aren't just tasks: they're secrets. This game would be called Task Life, or Goal Life, or something, if that was the important thing. He knows how careful Grian is with his words (words like safe and soulmate and mine, all used to very particular definitions).

BigB is familiar with what being one of Grian's secrets feels like. The letter in his pocket feels like a friend. He decides not to ask any more questions, because he's not sure what will come out.

"Okay, just gonna cook some fish, and then I'll be out of your hair." Grian steps past him and hunkers down in front of the furnace. BigB feels a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. He looks away.

When he looks back, he startles. Scar is right next to Grian, looming by his side.

Except this isn't Scar as he'd seen him earlier, standing around in a circle. BigB locks eyes with this other Scar, his eyes beady-bright crimson and set into a face wrapped in bandages. His hooded cloak is purple and embroidered, threads hanging ragged at the edges. The fabric around his neck is dark.

Slowly, movements jerky, Scar holds up a single bony finger in front of his mouth.

BigB's eyes flick down to Grian's back- does he not notice, in his periphery? Is he just ignoring this? Should he say something?

When he looks back up, the spectre is gone.

Standing in uncharacteristic silence, he awkwardly waits for Grian to collect the rest of his fish. Grian, happy to cause problems on purpose but allergic to tension he isn't the cause of, quickly folds and grabs the remaining fish with an "I'll get out of your hair, then."

They shuffle together to the entrance of the cave; he really needs to get some doors going in here.

Grian turns and fixes a stare just to his side, for a moment. BigB ignores it, and finally manages to shoo Grian off. He doesn't want to know who's haunting him.

Sighing, he shifts a pick into his hand and gets back to work. BigB finishes the task quickly after that, because when he pays attention the fear guides him. This task isn't about digging deep - it's about being hunted, about burrowing, tunneling.

He finishes it and turns in the quest book, receives his rewards. Resolutely, he does not look at the spectres trailing after his friends. It's fine if he just doesn't look, right? Yeah.

The rest of the session passes in a blur. At the end, trying to hang back and keep his eyes on the middle of the statue rather than any ghosts that may or may not exist, he hears Grian share his task.

Jokes no one would laugh at. Of course.

He idly considers a task based on his experiences in the last series. Something furtive and spy-based would be fun. Maybe something frog themed?

He does not think about what secrets his lives in the other games would want to share. Those seem like a late-game thing, anyways.

[andypantsx3]

some barbarian bakugou thing idk | sfw | gn reader | 1.3k words

It's cold.

The fire crackles at your back, sending warm licks of heat up and over your spine, but it's not enough. You shiver, trying to settle deeper into the hard ground, drawing your cloak up over your nose where it's beginning to grow cold.

Normally, you'd be snuggled deep in your bedroll by now, but you'd stupidly tied it too insecurely to your pack this morning. It had come loose just as your group had forded the river on Kirishima's back, the redhead wearily but gamely shifting into his dragon form to get you safely across the rushing water.

As he plodded across, splashing loudly, your bedroll had tumbled into the icy water, and you'd watched mournfully as it had been immediately dragged under and carried downriver.

It was another day from the nearest town, another day before you could replace it.

When you settled into camp, Midoriya had chivalrously offered his own bedroll—which you had declined, as the loss of yours had been your own fault—and Uraraka had offered a warming spell—but you could see the exhaustion around her eyes and mouth since the battle yesterday, and she still looked pale and peaky. You thought another spell might finish her off for good.

But now you almost wish you'd taken either of them up on it, their discomfort be damned.

Almost.

Suffering the consequences of your own mess was the least you could do for them, really. You owe them everything for saving your life time and time again, starting when they'd first happened upon your village under a bandit raid, you the only survivor.

You've tried your hardest to repay them, stitching up wounds and mending torn clothes, taking over the cooking and fire tending whenever you make camp. Once you'd even talked a merchant down from chopping off Kiri's hand when he'd gotten a little too me dragon, must hoard over a ruby necklace at market.

You won't put everyone out over something as stupid as a lost bedroll, not when you owe them more than you could possibly ever give.

A cool wind whispers through the trees, and you can't suppress another violent shiver. You inch loser to the fire, barely caring if the sparks catch on your clothes and light you up in the night if it means you can be warm now.

You roll onto your side, facing the flames, and shudder again when the cold creeps under your cloak at the movement.

The heat feels good on your face, dry and blistering. But your back is suddenly freezing, and you fight down a groan of frustration.

You'll never get to sleep at this rate.

As soon as this thought occurs, there's the barest whisper of a bootstep behind you. Before you can turn, a hand claps over your mouth, and a hard body slides up against your back, an arm hooking decisively around your middle to pull you back against your assailant. The scent of ash and the sweet, floral oil he uses on his leathers gives away his identity immediately.

"Don't fuckin' scream it's just me," Bakugou growls low in your ear.

You blink dumbly, mouth pursing against his rough palm. "Fwuuh?" you say.

Bakugou Katsuki is notoriously standoffish, the member of your party you'd learned the least about in your weeks with them. A barbarian from the steppes, he's got little time or patience for your people's mannerisms. He seems to like very few things—his dragon Kirishima, his broadsword Hearteater, and the opportunity for a good fight being the exceptions—and you seem to be one of the things he tolerates the least.

He'd been the one who'd run his sword right through the bandit about to kill you, but since then he's acted like it was a mistake. He barely looks at you when you clean his wounds, he never accepts any of your rations when you offer them, and he's recently taken to combat training you, maintaining a harsh commentary on all of your best efforts.

It's a shame he's also so handsome and charismatic, as it makes it difficult for you to discount him entirely.

"Could hear your fucking teeth chattering from the other side of the campsite," Bakugou growls, his hand lifting off your mouth. Something heavy settles over you, and you realize he's arranging his cloak over you both, the fur trim tickling your nose. It's heavy and velvety and soft, and so nice and warm.

You know you need to protest but the heat of him at your back is so deliciously good, you want to relax into him like a warm bath.

"Bakugou—what is this?" you splutter out quietly.

"What, you wanna freeze your ass off?" he demands, his words a harsh breath into your ear. His arm shifts over you, pulling you tighter as if daring you to attempt to escape.

"No," you say, trying to scrape your thoughts in order. "No. But you—is this okay for you?"

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Bakugou growls into the side of your head.

"Well you don't exactly like me," you tell him, too exhausted to be circumspect about it. You know he doesn't like it when you talk around things either. "I didn't think you were cuddling type, exactly."

Bakugou huffs a dismissive laugh into your hair. "You always fucking decide shit on your own," he mutters. "You decide you owe us shit, you decide what's best for Deku and Uraraka to do with their magic and shit, you decide you think you fucking know everything. 'S fucking annoying."

You start, not realizing he'd cottoned on to your thinking process.

"Well I've also decided that you don't much like me," you say. "And I...I do owe you guys. You've saved my life countless times these past couple of weeks."

Bakugou makes a snorting noise behind you. "You fucking village people always think that's how the world works. Owing. A favor for a favor. Trading and bartering and stupid shit. That's not how it works out here, brat. There's no equal exchange. You stay alive if you're strong enough, or if someone likes you enough to keep you alive, and that's it."

His voice is even raspier than usual, you notice. He's tired. You can hear the impatience in the clipped sound of his words, and you know his exhaustion is why you're even getting this much out of him.

You're tired, too, the heat of the fire at your front and Bakugou's hard body at your back both lulling you into a lightheaded sleepiness.

"And you like me enough to keep me alive?" You can't help but ask dubiously.

"I like you well enough even though you're fucking annoying," Bakugou says, his breath stirring the hair at the base of your neck. "But I won't if you keep fuckin' talking."

You can't help but smile at that, a little tired grin touching your mouth.

"It'll be another thing I owe you for," you say, settling back into him at last. You know you will have other thoughts about this in the morning, but for now you can't help yourself. If he's fine with it then there's not much to protest.

"Y' can repay me by shutting the fuck up," he says, before he lets out a heavy exhale, as if he too is being lured into sleep by the warmth of your own body.

You decide to leave your questions about this for the morning. It's too much to contemplate what this means for your relationship to Bakugou. Too much to contemplate that he wants, for some reason, to keep you alive.

His hand presses to your abdomen, securing you even more firmly against him, and you close your eyes again. His breathing evens out, his grip growing slack, and you can feel your own body mirroring him.

Too easily, and without another thought on the debts you're accumulating to him, you slip down into sleep.

[cassiebones]

Character Analysis: Rio Vidal

(because Aubrey Plaza currently has a chokehold on my psyche)

It hasn't been confirmed on the show, but we all know that Rio is Death, correct? They're not even being subtle about it, so I'm gonna take it from that angle.

Okay, so Rio is ageless. She prefers to take the form of Aubrey Plaza because Aubrey is a hot motherfucker. Agreed? Okay.

I have no idea when she would have come into existence, only because I have no idea the nature of Death in this universe. Is she one of many deaths? She must be, because people die all over and she has enough free time to build this hate/love relationship with Agatha, whom she finds the second the Darkhold stops hiding her.

I think she may specifically be Death for witches. She ferries magical humans to the other side, and has done since magic was first invented.

She was never a child, never a newborn. She was fully grown and cognizant from her inception, born knowing what her job was for her entire life. She existed in ancient times, seen by many mortals as different gods/goddesses. She took the shapes they'd already imagined her to have. She was Anubis, Hades, Shinigami, Osiris, Hecate, Charon...whom were all different entities, but she took their forms to bring comfort to the recently departed.

I feel like Rio had a lot of empathy for the first thousand or so years of doing this job. She listened to life stories as she ferried magical beings to their next journeys. She learned about society, about expectations, about why one might choose not to stay on the mortal coil, or why one might be taken from it by force.

She comforted the ones reticent to leave their physical bodies. She held the hands of too many young witches, taken too soon because of the fear that surrounded them. That's who she had the most empathy for: young, misunderstood witches.

Her empathy fades as humanity progresses. Witches are still persecuted, but many of them get on her nerves. They think so highly of themselves. They think they Death owes them something, that they deserve a second chance at life.

Nobody gets a second chance at life.

And while it's her job, she starts to kind of resent it. The spirits that won't leave piss her off. They disturb the living as often as they can and Rio gets blamed for it. This is why she hates ghosts.

But there's nothing she can do.

And then she meets Agatha. Agatha who is young and powerful and so scared when they first meet. Agatha, who has just caused the deaths of her entire coven. Agatha, who didn't mean to cause so much destruction; she just needs to be properly taught.

So Rio teaches her. I think they would have this kind of relationship where Rio fosters Agatha's talents, where she takes Agatha to places where she can be as destructive with her magic as she wants and nobody will judge or demonize her. And every time Agatha masters a spell or gives Rio that super proud smile, Rio falls a little more in love with her.

She revitalizes Rio's love for her job. And it's not like it's Agatha's fault that other witches keep attacking her. And it's not like she can truly control that siphoning thing every time it happens. It just is what it is.

Agatha feels bad the first time it happens, too. But then she takes on Rio's logic of "well, they shouldn't have done that then," and all is well.

Agatha is alive and safe and Rio gets more bodies to ferry, more work. She actually really loves her work, especially because it means she gets to spend more time with Agatha, who just can't stop getting attacked for some reason...

There are rules to her job, of course.

First and most important rule: Death cannot kill. It is a conflict of interest. It wouldn't be very fair to give herself more bodies to ferry. Soon enough, there would be none left. In theory, at least. It's like insider trading, in a way.

Another one: Death cannot bring back life to one who has died. That is also not fair, and it's actually not even something she can do. She isn't Life; she's Death.

And: Death must ferry souls as soon as possible to the other life. Souls that linger too long become ghosts and it gets harder for them to cross over. It's considered a failure on her part when a Spirit becomes a Ghost.

She regrets ferrying Nicholas. That was her son, too. I will entertain no other theories. She loved that kid. She was just as much his mother as Agatha was. She knew how much it would hurt Agatha, but she also knew that she couldn't allow Nicky to become a ghost. It would be a torturous existence for them both. And if Agatha had her way and reanimated his body, forcing his soul to remain there, it would be so much worse.

It is her biggest regret and the only scar she has.

She doesn't have to lick wounds to heal them. That's just something she does for Agatha. Agatha either doesn't know this or doesn't fight it. I cannot even decide which one is funnier.

Rio is more than her job, though.

She is also a bottom.

Only for Agatha.

Moving on.

When Agatha uses the Darkhold to disappear, whatever beacon spell they'd had on each other since practically the beginning of their courtship is interrupted. She cannot find Agatha. She cannot even see Agatha, not even if she was two inches from her own face. Agatha makes it so they never run into each other, no matter whom she kills.

And then Wanda gets the Darkhold and it's like a fire alarm blaring in Rio's ear. She goes immediately to Agatha's side.

Yes, immediately. You know that was not a three-season delusion that Wanda put her under. "Agnes" had many, many different TV shows running through the spellbound mind. She just wasn't broken out of it until Teen got there.

Herb was so nonchalant about her little "true crime bug" that there had to have been several different medical series, soap operas, firefighter shows, other cop shows, comedies, home improvement shows, reality shows (The Real Housewives of West View?), and a mockumentary or two that came before it.

And Rio was a guest star in all of them, willing Agatha to just wake up. But Agatha didn't recognize her. She just knew that she hated her, in every single mind show. She just hated Rio Vidal.

And Rio was just in a hell of her own making, trying desperately to break Agatha out but not knowing how.

She loves this woman so much. All the threats to kill her and telling others where to find her? Foreplay. I can totally see them trolling each other as they ran around New England, pointing fingers at one another, calling out "Witch!" and snickering as the torches are lit.

Their sex breaks down houses. They have done it in a grave. Rio attempts to murder Agatha at least twice a day at their peak; it's called flirting, Jennifer.

Agatha, obviously knowing that Rio can't actually kill her (and she cannot kill Rio for obvious reasons), feels safest when she's around. Because Rio defends her. She knows the things that Agatha has done and she loves her (not in spite of them, but sort of because of them. Girl's a freak.) anyway.

And Rio hates her mother-in-law, Evanora, with a passion. She definitely has a list of people she hates from all the souls she's had to ferry. A lot of white Puritan men are on that list for their role in the Salem Witch trials. But Evanora is #1 on that list. It's on sight for that bitch.

And I think that makes Agatha soft for Rio. Because nobody has ever defended her against her mother, for her whole childhood. Nobody except Rio.

Which is why Agatha is definitely the one who proposed.

It was a mundane kind of day. Her powers had just killed another coven. Before they attacked, however, one of the witches called Agatha a "Witch-Killer" and said that her mother had always been right about her. She'd heard of how evil Agatha was as a child and this just proved it.

Rio's hands had glowed green and as she took the woman by the throat, slamming her against a tree, screaming at her, telling her about how the true evil was the woman who hated her own child so much as to plan a whole execution after abusing her for her entire childhood. How Agatha was a survivor and so much more powerful than her mother could ever hope to be. And that witches like her had to wake up to it and--then the witch blasted Agatha and it was all over.

Rio huffed as she dropped the empty husk of a body, glaring at the spirit as it floated above it.

"That was your own fault," she said. "If you had just listened to me, none of this would have happened."

The witch just glared and Rio rolled her eyes, collecting the souls of the other witches who had attacked Agatha along with this dumb with.

"I'll be right back," she promised Agatha, who was still thrumming with magic.

"Marry me!" Agatha said as Rio disappeared.

She was halfway through with the job when the words registered in her mind. She got them across in record time, returning to find Agatha on her knees, waiting for her, a purple ring of something she'd made from magic. She was smiling up at Rio, tears in her eyes.

"What did you say?" Rio asked, her heart pounding.

"Marry me," Agatha repeated, her voice tight. "Rio Vidal, will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Rio dropped to her knees and tackled Agatha to the ground, raining kisses down on her while Agatha laughed.

And then they got married and lived happily for a century or two, until they had a son. I have no idea how Nicholas came to be. I have no idea why he is a Scratch rather than a Harkness or a Vidal. But I know he had two mommies who loved him more than anything. Rio probably never thought that she could be a wife to anybody, let alone a full mother, but she loved that boy. And she loves Agatha.

Rio has a big heart and she's a bit intense, but we love that for her.

11/10 character

[lewsnumerounofan]

party foul (jeremiah fisher x reader)

summary: so what if you're in love with your best friend, jeremiah fisher? one drunk kiss won't change anything. right?

notes: not biblically accurate conrad, teen drinking, kissing, 3k words, reader previously dated co**ad, angst/miscomm., not proof read at all

+ part 2

+ i never keep the same tense i'm so sooryim gooo fuckjuhnbsorry oh my god and dw abt the header image!!!!!! it's okay!!!!!

kissing jere was easy.

it was the first thing you noticed. how easy it was to let his lips slant over yours, to tilt your head back at the greedy request of his hands, to forget about the party and conrad and the house.

it was just him and the feel of his mouth on yours.

you hadn't expected this, to say the least. in fact, you'd been bracing for an awkward and mostly miserable night. ever since conrad and you had split back in june, things had been awful. the breakup had been bad itself--getting ditched at prom without explanation was one thing--but watching conrad get back with nicole a week later was even worse.

so you were pleasantly surprised with yourself when you decided to go to the fisher's goodbye party, despite whatever tension there might be between you and conrad.

if you were being honest with yourself though, you mostly had jeremiah to thank. you two had been best friends since childhood, but ever since his brother had broken your heart, jere had been there for you. all the time, really. he'd drive down on weekends to check up on you. and when susannah had gotten worse, you'd driven up to make sure he was eating and sleeping too.

so of course he'd been able to convince you to come stay, waving off your concerns about conrad. i want you there, he'd said. i really want you there. and so you'd come. you arrived late, tired from the hours of highway driving. already the house was packed with hap hazardously parked cars and drunk teenagers. the music was loud even on the warm streets outside, and you couldn't help but feel excited as you pulled your bag out of your car and started towards the party.

taylor was the one who opened the door for you. she launched herself into a hug, giggling and shrieking as you two swung around.

"oh my god. you have no idea how happy i am to see you," she yelled, dragging you into the crowded house.

together you fumbled upstairs, eventually breaking into one of the larger rooms. various assortments of air mattresses and water beds covered the floor. jere had called you as soon as they'd gotten back from the boardwalk about julia's suprise moving. it wasn't often you heard him so... defeated.

"you can drop your stuff wherever," said taylor, "but the one in the corner is jeremy's."

she didn't even bother to hide her grin as you slapped her arm. nothing, not even your best kept secret, made it past taylor.

"shut up. you can't say anything to him or i swear i'll kill you," you promised, only half joking.

"oh please. he hasn't stopped talking about you the whole trip. it's disgusting."

you tried not to smile at that--jere talked about you? i mean, he'd called you just about every day for the last few months. more, on days when things were hard. but still, you felt almost nervous at the thought of seeing him now. of what it might be like between you.

your thoughts were cut off by a shout of your name. running into the room was belly. well, not running--rolling.

"oh my god bell what are you wearing?" you asked. it was too late though, because she was wrapping you up in a wobbly, crushing hug.

"roller skates? duh? they're an old pair of susannah's," she said.

you'd missed belly. she looked fucking adorable in her little vintage number, and you hugged her again just because. over her shoulder you could see steven grinning, and conrad too. you waved to the later while steven strode over, ruffling your hair before taking your bag from you.

"long time no see, city-girl," he said.

"yeah yeah yeah. just be nice to my bag, okay? it's got some very delicate presents," you said. steven raised his eyebrows but did as you said, placing your bag onto the bed taylor had indicated earlier. jere's bed. taylor and steven met eyes and winked--uh oh. the last thing you needed was them trying to set you up with your best friend. your best friend who you're in love with, something inside you said. you tried your best to strangle it.

"hey."

this time it was conrad, who was sporting a pair of atrocious sunflower sunglasses on the top of his head.

"hey. i like the glasses," you said, doing your best to smile. it was weird to talk like this to him. you were so angry and embarrassed and sad because of him for so long, and now there was just... nothing. and it felt okay.

"uh, yeah. nicole--nicole got them for me."

he looked sheepish, blushing in a way that used to have you fawning. now you just did your best to nod, saying, "well, she's certainly got a good eye for fashion."

you were saved from the conversation by steven's cough. he stood by the doorway, impatiently waving you towards the party.

"cmon guys, can we hurry this up?"

"yeah, gimmie one sec," you promised. returning to your bag you pulled out the liquor you'd secured on your way there, the bottles heavy in your hands.

"see," you said, turning back to your friends, "presents."

-

downstairs was even louder than you thought it would be. belly had gone all out for the party--strobe lights blared in every room, a kegger was set up outside, and a dj (was that cam cameron??) was spinning in the living room. you had to admit it: you were having a good time. a really good time. except for, that is, one thing. or person, really. jere was nowhere to be found. he'd even missed out on the group shots you, steven, taylor, belly and conrad had downed first beside the pool and then by the kitchen. jeremiah never missed group shots.

a little more than drunk now, you pushed off from your spot on the counter to find your bestfriend.

"city-girl, where you going?" asked steven.

"i'm gonna go find jere. i haven't seen him since i got in."

"i'll come with you," a voice spoke up.

it was conrad, who looked between you and the floor nervously. you didn't miss the questioning looks that pass between taylor and belly. you shrug at them--a little nervous, but not enough to turn him down in front of all your friends.

"uh, yeah sure."

so you and conrad made your way back through the party, scanning couches and corners for jeremiah. by the time you hit the stairs you were both sweaty and annoyed. you had come all this way to see him, and all of a sudden he'd disappeared.

"he's not picking up any of my calls," said conrad, pulling his phone away from his ear.

"me neither," you admitted, letting yourself swing around the banister to sit at the bottom of the staircase. cautiously, conrad gestured to empty landing beside you.

"mind if i join?"

you nod, scooching over to make room. conrad looked bigger than last time you'd seen him. he looked stronger too. for a while after susannah died he'd looked like a corpse--pale and skinny and only half there. even you could admit you were glad to see him doing so much better.

"hey, look i didn't really tag along to search for jere," conrad said, glancing back at you. shocker.

"i uh," he cleared his throat, "i mostly just wanted to apologize. for how things ended. i know i messed up really bad and i wanted to say i'm sorry."

in the hazy blue and purple's of the dance floor below, conrad's steel-blue eyes were genuine. for the first time that night they held yours steadily.

"i was hurting, and let myself fall on you for comfort even when i knew you weren't who i wanted. who i needed. and it wasn't fair to you. i know that now, and i'm sorry it took me so long. i'm really, really sorry."

huh. you hadn't really expected that one either. but it was nice to hear him say those words. you liked conrad. he was a good guy who'd had a rough hand delt to him. and yeah, he hadn't done right by you. but like susannah had always repeated:

"no harm no foul," you said, and let yourself smile at him. he looked relieved as he smiled back, no doubt recognizing the reference to his mother.

"you're happy now, i take it? with nicole?" you ask.

"yeah. more than happy, actually. don't know what i did to deserve her."

you're happy for him, in that moment. really happy.

"what about you? you finally stopped messing around and admitted your feelings to jere?" he asked.

"huh?" you drop, mouth open. there's no way.

"what," he chuckled, grinning harder at your shocked expression, "like it's not obvious you two are crazy for each other."

you can feel the blush spreading across your cheeks now, stomach skipping at his words. so they all knew, you realized. does jere?

"he doesn't--you didn't tell him, right?" you said, panic rising.

conrad shakes his head, still looking amused.

"no, but he'd be a fool not to see it. you guys are perfect for each other. really."

"thanks, conrad."

and you mean it--it's been months of awkwardness between you. and now you just feel... good. you feel like you've got your friend back. so you lean over and hug him, letting yourself remember that before your fling you were friends, and returning back to it feels comforting and warm.

"thank you, for hearing me out. i'm glad we can be back to normal now," he said into your shoulder.

"friends again?" you ask.

"definit--"

"what the fuck?"

-

it's jeremiah. he stands at the top of the stairs, eyes wide. he's wearing the ariana grande merch you'd gotten him. he looks the same and yet--

and yet something in your chest fizzes and your stomach starts running circles as you look at him. you missed him. and not because he was your best friend.

"jere--it's not what it looks like," said conrad.

and then you realized he did look different. the jeremiah you knew was always grinning about some secret joke, or making fun of belly or steven. he never looked... betrayed like this. and he certainly never looked at you with disgust. with anger.

"what the fuck are you guys doing?" he asked again, but this time he didn't even look at you.

"nothing, jere. we were just talking," said conrad.

you cringed at his words. they might be true, but they sure didn't sound good.

"yeah, sure," laughed jere. you'd never heard him laugh like that. it made your skin prickle.

"c'mon, you know i'd never do that-" conrad started.

jeremiah was faster though. he was up in conrad's face in a second, pushing him into the wall. you'd never seen him like this. he wasn't an aggressive guy; even when the brothers fought it was never violent.

"don't fucking lie, con. you were just waiting to take her back weren't you? waiting until you knew it'd hurt me the most, huh?"

you felt his words viscerally, like they were being penned onto your skin. hurt him the most? it was the closest to a confession you'd gotten, but it all felt wrong.

by now, partygoers on the main floor had started to notice the commotion. people were pointing, some even starting to pull out their phones. great.

"jere," you called. he paused, bright blue eyes on you. even now, fighting with his brother, jeremiah looked beautiful. maybe you had had a bit too much to drink.

"jere, please let it go. conrad isn't a part of this," you murmured. though you didn't break eye contact, you could see his hands loosen around his brother's shirt in your peripheral. jaw clenched, he heeded your wishes, giving a final shove to conrad before breaking away. he walked quickly down the stairs and into the throngs of people below.

"jere, wait up!" you call, desperately trying to follow the broad shape of his back through the crowd. jeremiah didn't bother trying to accommodate your smaller strides, and you almost lost him a few times in the packed house.

"would you please slow down? jere," you said again. by now you were out of the house, dodging pool floaties and scattered drinks. the blonde made no indication of hearing you as he kept striding towards the beach.

"jeremiah!"

finally he whipped around. he still looked mad--the set of his jaw, the notching of his eyebrows--but under all of it, he just looked sad. you hated seeing him upset, and you hated knowing you might've been the cause of it.

"jere, please. what's going on?" you asked, this time softly. he was close to you now. you could see his heavy breathing, could smell the perfume he always wore.

"how would i know. you're the one who's looking all close with your ex--my brother--conrad," he spits. he swallows hard, like he's checking himself.

"it was always you and conrad. even when we were kids it was that way. i was stupid to think it could've been any different."

he turned away from you, gaze hard. oh, jere. you have no idea, you thought. it was him--how could he not see that? how could he really think it was conrad you cared about?

you couldn't deny it any longer: you loved jere. and you definitely weren't about to let him walk away thinking otherwise.

quickly, without letting yourself dwell on it, you grabbed jeremiah's hand. he turned back, eyes wide. and you kissed him.

kissing jere was easy.

it was the first thing you noticed. how easy it was to let his lips slant over yours, to tilt your head back at the greedy request of his hands, to forget about the party and conrad and the house.

it was just him and the feel of his mouth on yours.

and then everything was static. everywhere he touched you--the long, lean press of his body to your front, the sharp slide of his jawline under your palm, the firm press of his hands at your waist. every sense was filled with him and his warmth and the way he smelled.

you were gasping into the kiss, hyperaware of the small noises he made when you pulled on his curls. of just how tall he was, how much he had to lean down to hold you like this.

you barely broke away enough to say, "jere, nothing happened with conrad. we were talking about you-"

"don't care," he said, voice rough. because he was too busy lifting you onto one of the wooden boardwalk rails, muscled arms flexing in the distant party lights.

you barely had time to settle before he was kissing you again, sloppy this time, like he owned your mouth and wanted you to know it. you felt hot everywhere, as his hands pulled apart your thighs and he crowded his broad body into you.

you'd kissed once before for a game of truth or dare. it had been sweet and short, and you both had been teased about it for years afterwards. this was different.

wholly different, you realized, as jeremiah's lips sought out the hot skin of your neck. there was no place except where he touched you; the noise of the party, the lull of the waves on the beach, the quiet way he murmured against your skin.

"jere," you said, because there was no room in your mind for anything or anyone else. he hummed as his canines bit lightly at your ear. jere.

greedy for more, you took one of the tan, strong hands holding your face and brought it lower, lower until it rested over your frantically beating heart. jere had pulled away to watch your ministrations, cursing softly as his hand fell over your chest.

"you sure?" he asked, and his voice sounded hoarse.

"yeah, course jere. it's you."

something behind his eyes sparked at the trust you promised. it's always been you. kissing you once more, gentler this time, jere let his hand run up and under the vintage bathing suit top you'd stolen from your mom for the party.

skin on skin, jeremiah was soft and warm. he was breathing heavy as you as he felt you up. forehead to yours, gaze keen as he watched you pant and squirm.

"this okay?"

you could only nod, eyes drawn tight at the sensation. he kissed you again, his touch more confident as you clung to his shoulders.

you'd messed around with conrad a few times. it had felt good. fun, even. but he'd never had you reeling like this, never made you feel like everywhere he touched was fire. that feeling was reserved for jere.

and as his thumb circled your nipple and his teeth pulled at your lip, you realized you were burning and there wasn't anything you could do to stop it. best friend or not, jere was the only one who could make you feel like this. ever.

you pulled away from his mouth. he looked concerned, and you could feel him move his hands away from you.

"sorry if i..." he started, blue eyes near scared as he watched you.

"no, jere it's not that. it's, it's just that i-"

"hey, there's my man! where the fuck were you dude?"

it was steven. fucking steven. on his arm was taylor, who grinned manically when she saw your mussed hair and blushing expression. please not now, taylor. please don't mess this up any more.

but drunk as they were, the pair didn't notice your nervous expression. instead, steven laughed and said, "so did you finally tell her you're in love with her or what?"

-

jere's face dropped. whatever softness you'd shared moments earlier was gone. his mouth set flat, hands that had been mapping out your body now closed into fists.

"fuck you, steven."

taylor's eyes were on you now, finally recognizing the tears you tried to blink away. with a hand on his chest she held steven back, some wordless communication passing between them. if you hadn't been feeling your own heart break you would've been trying to tease them about it.

instead, you chased after jeremiah's retreating figure.

"jere, will you please listen!" you called. but he was stubborn--you knew this better than anyone. one more time you tried, shouting his name over the stupidly loud party.

he whipped back around, blue eyes sharp.

"just stay away from me, okay? why don't you go find conrad to wipe your tears," he snapped. for a moment, jere looked shocked at his own words too. but then he was shaking his head, tearing his gaze away from yours as he continued through the crowds towards the house. away from you.

and this time, as people collapsed into the space all around you, their yelling and singing drowning out even your thoughts, you knew there was no use calling for him.