#and then I brought this up in a discord group

[lurafita]

Going Commando

Izzy: "Ugh! This is so frustrating!"

Alec: "What?"

Izzy: "I'm want to know why not wearing underwear is called 'going commando', but the internet has about 8 different origins for it and none of them have a definitive verification."

Clary: "… Maybe it's more comfortable? For soldiers? I mean, it does stem from military usage, right?"

Izzy, turning to the guys: "So? Is it more comfortable, or does it just swing around down there and chafe more?"

Alec, Jace and Simon, red in the face and stuttering: "Y-y-you can't just ask stuff like that!"

Magnus: "Barring any strenuous activity, you don't really notice the swinging. It depends on what you are wearing, mostly. Tracksuits and other softer material pants are fine. Jeans can get a little chafy. And then there are some pants where you just don't want to have any underwear lines showing through. Like silk pants."

Alec: "… You are wearing silk pants right now."

Magnus, smirking: "I am."

[yardsards]

you know what would have been really cool in taz ethersea?

if using prestige salts to cast magic had physical magic effects on the body, kinda the same way prolonged exposure to ethersea water itself had caused physical effects on some people's bodies

because like, it's basically the magic equivalent of nuclear waste bonded to sea salts. it would be cool if bringing that kind of pollution into your body had more tangible negative effects

you could identify experienced magic users in this world by how not-quite-human they look

and perhaps most effects would be more long-term, but if you use more than you can handle of it in one day, you'd have some pretty nasty acute effects.

and that would be a fun way to tie the mechanics of spell slots into the worldbuilding (at least, in a way i personally find more interesting than just simply tying it to having to acquire sufficient quantities of this resource). and getting more spell slots as you level up could be like your body building up a bit of a tolerance.

(maybe you would even able to push yourself to cast one last spell in an emergency even after you run out of slots; you can try and cast that extra spell but you'll have to deal with some pretty bad acute effects of prestige overdose: have your hp painfully reduced to almost 0 and maybe have to roll some sort of altered wild magic table to see what else it does to you)

and this is not even getting started on the Implications that would have on devo as a character

[equalperson]

I fucking hate being traumatized because why am I bawling the hardest I've bawled in god-knows-how-long because someone I didn't even like that much berated Me. gasping wailing trembling and snotting over this for several minutes.

[its-stupidhours]

hey smallcrow/general Smantblr nation. what if we made a discord. would you guys be down for that

[becca4leafclover]

I hate being in between friend groups cause I'm SUCH a person that rambles about shared interests and tells people about their known interests but when all my current friend groups have been distant and/or aren't watching The Thing I Know They'll Like and won't for an unspecified amount of time but also get upset over spoilers... it sucks cause I feel very alone :( the shared interest thing is just one part of the equation but its certainly the quickest to notice. I'm never people's first and that's fine but it sucks when I feel like I don't have anyone yknow?

[tr0ubl3d-tr4n53nd3r]

I've been added to a discord server and I fear they dislike me.

They talked about weed and I essentially bragged that I took a personal stance against it. Nobody has talked since.

I'm truly the life of the party 🤷🏻‍♀️

[gayymomgod]

i can't b the only one experiencing a feeling of otherness when trying to interact w others in an online social space. joining a discord server? playing online games? participating in online social events? interacting w other accounts? it always feels so hard to connect with others on my end oh goodness

[nopethatsnotembarrassing]

Okay so idk if my other post is gonna eventually show up or not but I got to play jackbox with a group of friends who have just assimilated me into them without hesitation and its been amazing seeing as I have been feeling like there might be a reason no one is my friend.

I'm pretty sure they're all a bit older than me but that's fine lol cause their humor is just as broken (if not worse) than mine!

And like I said we played Jackbox (the one with survive the internet, monster seeking monster, and the spray painting the drawing game) and these motherfuckers love their dirty jokes! Like I have been in a game of nothing but teenagers and it wasn't this bad!! It was hilarious! Especially since the #1 perp was an ace guy (let's call him... Wild) who makes all kinds of kink jokes (literally how I found out he was ace was the first time we were hanging out he made like 3 vore jokes followed by a couple pet play jokes only to realize how it sounded and in a worried panic turned to me and went "Oh No! I'M Asexual! These are just jokes!") And 1- hes the first Ace I've met who has identified that way since before meeting them. 2- typical me fashion I have some sort of feelings for him that I can't tell if it's a crush or a squish yet.

And as my luck would have it none of them had played monster seeking monster and I had so after I gave a quick explanation they wanted to play and as my delelu brain would have it the first message I get is from Wild and for the first like 3 or 4 rounds (even if he didn't say anything to me in game) he would pick me to date in the game. And I know I'm just looking to far into it but like oof.

He ended up being the vampire and turned me and I nearly fucking said "I'd let you bite me anytime." But thankfully I still have some filter around them cause idk if they know me well enough yet to assume thats a joke. Especially since this time I wore my choker that kinda looks like a prong dog collar so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[queer-benoit-blanc]

Conclave things that have stuck with me most after several watches and reading the book for comparison (I've mentioned some of this in other posts):

When Bellini berates Lawrence about his "precious doubts", he glances around first to make sure no one is going to hear. He's pissed off, but he knows the danger of rumour, and he doesn't want to get Lawrence hurt. It's such a tender little moment

Throughout the film, we get whispering and muttering, but it's never very clear what's being said. Until the end, when we can hear them all saying "Innocentius". After a discordant time of rumour and speculation, the Curia has finally united around Benitez

Lawrence's skullcap: he puts it on at the start when he needs to be professional, and tears it off after his improvised homily and the first time he sends Ray to do some investigating, as though he feels he is not worthy of his title. He's not wearing it at all when he sneaks into the Pope's room. But when he distributes the reports, it's back. He knows this is his duty

The book has a big focus on the role of the media, and we do get some mentions of that in the film (helicopters, camera flashes, etc) but it's incredibly stripped back. The film even changes some scenes to emphasise the role of rumour in such an insular place. For instance, the theatre room does not exist in the book, but in the film it provides space for Bellini's group to plot alone

The shroud over the dead Pope's face, and the ribbon and around the door, flimsy tradition contrasted with the heavy mundanity of the paramedics removing the body

The candles all around the Pope's photo, which are the same as the candle in Benitez' room

Ray letting Lawrence use his glasses to read, which has obviously happened before. I love the solid ground that Ray provides Lawrence

In the book, Tedesco is terrible at Latin despite, as in the film, demanding it be brought back. The film provides a visual standing for this with the vape. He doesn't actually want tradition, he's just using it as a veil for his bigotry

Bellini saying the Pope was "always 8 moves ahead", setting up all the Pope's machinations that appear later

Lawrence being the first person to notice when Agnes and Benitez are trying to speak to the cardinals

The nuns always working in the background. Their work is shown over and over but the film demands effort from the audience to notice, lest they become "invisible"

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 5 - Temperance

summary : viktor and reader work together in the library (so much banter, it's insane), then maybe there's a small fight because a guy called viktor a cripple and that causes some issues

content warnings : mentions of blood but really not that much tbh

word count : 5,4k

author's note : you thought i was gone on this one huh ? WRONG. we're so back babies! i know it's been 2 years since i've touched this baby okay, but i'm back now! hopefully i will get more time to write about this lil guy bc i love this fic.

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world

masterlist : here ．．discord : here ．．playlist : here

taglist : @doctorho

For the rest of the two long hours, Heimerdinger continued his lesson.

The class had come to an end, you silent, the class teeming with gossip. Professor Heimerdinger had distributed the subjects one by one to the students at the end of the lesson. He was a perfectly reasonable, friendly teacher who tried to make his pupils laugh at the expense of their historical knowledge.

When you had a lesson with him, you knew you were listening to a teacher who was wise enough to turn events and experiences into jokes to lighten the burden of his history lessons.

He was always on the lookout for questions and comments from the students, not hesitating for a moment as he gave the subjects to the groups one by one to point out the difficulties they might find and the pitfalls that might await them.

In short, Heimerdinger wanted his students to succeed, not to see a decline in the Piltover Academy's chances of success, which in the eyes of many seemed to be something to crow about rather than something to be ashamed of.

The very idea of being one of the few students to overcome these difficulties and succeed was, in your eyes, the greatest reward that could ever be given to you.

“Young folks,” he said, pointing to the two of you. “Come this way. I have reserved a subject especially for you.”

Heimerdinger didn't do things haphazardly. He gave students subjects that reflected them, or at least where he knew the results would be most interesting. You couldn't help but fear what he was up to.

When the students had dispersed, the tinkle of Viktor's cane sounded until he arrived at your side. You sighed audibly as you looked at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he gave you a winning smile.

He seemed to enjoy it when you got angry, and took great pleasure in teasing you constantly. Had he been a friend, you wouldn't have held it against him, even though your list of friends consisted mainly of Eris, Sky and Jayce. However, a friend wasn't supposed to be a problem for your success. There's only so much space in the academy for students who come out on top, and you weren't about to give yours away.

“Good,” he said at last as the last student passed through the doorway. “There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class, you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly.”

Your bickering and petty battles almost made the corridors of the school come alive again with the excitement of rumour and gossip partaking in your reputation.

“None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you: teamwork.”

You arched an eyebrow, finding the reasoning profoundly moronic.

“Sir,” you couldn't help but point out, “this school is eliminatory. Why would you want to associate students who won't necessarily all have the chance to pass the exams?”

Heimerdinger chuckled, “I'm not doing it with the prospect of a pass or a gold medal waiting for you at the finish line, Miss.”

You tilted your chin up in a slight pout of surprise.

“You see, I'm not necessarily trying to prepare you for the exams, but for what will happen once they're over. Having a diploma is all very well on paper, but what counts most in the end will be what you achieve.”

“All right,” you admit, “but why put us in a pair like this?”

“It's quite simple,” he jumped up from his desk, trotting across the floor to stand in front of you, your eyes downcast on him. “In the working environment, you don't always find a shoe to fit. And when you don't have the power to dismiss your colleague just because you don't like them, you have to learn to sacrifice your temperament for the sake of the common good. Now, I'm not asking you to make sacrifices, that word is far too violent, but I am asking you to compromise.”

You exchanged a look with Viktor, your fists clenching until your knuckles were white. You'd already made enough compromises for one lifetime, and now you had to go on? He, for his part, didn't seem too bothered by the situation. How could he be so calm? So serene about the idea of cooperating?

“You don't always work with the person of your choice, and not always on the subjects you'd prefer. Oh, that's just it! Speaking of subjects…”

He stood on tiptoe, grabbing the last sheet of paper from his desk and holding it out to Viktor.

The latter, for once, frowned in pure confusion and even perhaps... irritation?

“The evolution of Zaun's power?”

Your eyes narrowed before shifting from Viktor to Heimerdinger, “Are you joking?”

“I do love to laugh young lady but the shortest jokes are the best. You both seem, for different reasons, to have an excellent knowledge of Zaun. Its political power, its evolution, and even the iconic figures who can make themselves forgotten in the shadows of its depths.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying to remain upright and not revolt on the spot. Heimerdinger seemed way too amused and happy of his little scheme.

“Any questions?”

Viktor read the subject and what you had to complete, “Do you have any books to recommend to us Professor?”

Heimerdinger's voice became a blur as your thoughts drifted like the Grey in Zaun. Every corner of this city was out to kill you, and even when you were out of it, it followed you like your shadow.

Were you ever going to get out of such a cycle, out of this city’s grasp ?

“Miss?”

The teacher's voice brought you back down to earth. Distracted, you simply offered a confused hum in question so that he would repeat his last words.

“Your assignment is due in a month. That gives you time to put your differences aside and find a way of working together. If you'll excuse me, my next class is coming up soon.”

He gestured towards the exit, and soon enough you found yourselves in the corridor. The momentary emptiness of the hall almost seemed to bring you back to reality.

You drew in a breath, meeting Viktor's gaze beside you. You couldn't afford to get a bad mark, especially not for a Heimerdinger course. He was one of the most renowned scientists in the country, with his own seat on the Piltover council. To produce mediocre work would be to end your career on the spot, and you were prepared to at least try to cooperate with someone like Viktor.

“Why are you not begging the teacher to put us both in different duos?” you asked while Viktor was still reading the subject content.

“Hm, I think it might be fun.” he said, not even glancing at you.

You scoffed, “You and me?” your trigger finger pointing back and forth between the two of you, “Together? Fun?”

His eyes dropped from the paper, scanning you with a changed interest.

“You'd rather go back in there and ask for a rematch like a loser?”

A muscle near your eye tensed for a moment.

He sighed, his eyes returning to the subject, “Admitting defeat takes strength.”

“So you think I'm weak ?”

But Viktor didn't seem to have the slightest interest in you at the moment.

You relaxed your shoulders, sighing. There was no point in trying to beat him, you weren't - on that subject at least - in competition.

“Can I see the subject?” you asked, reaching for the paper, but he removed it from your reach in an instant.

You frowned, this wasn't going to be easy.

“Do I disgust you?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, your eyes blinking several times as you almost looked at him with fresh eyes.

If the question was purely physical, no, Viktor didn't disgust you. He was always accompanied at all times and in all places by that same invariable weariness that gave him a particular elegance. He had features common in Zaun, brown hair, amber eyes, and an accent that made some of the girls in your class drop like flies.

When it came to his character and personality though, it was another thing entirely.

“You annoy me,” you replied, managing to snatch the subject of his hand with enough agility that the gesture left him surprised, “but you don't disgust me.”

He remained silent for a moment. You could feel his eyes on you as yours fell on those of the subject.

“The only thing that disgusts me is your taste in pasta,” you confirmed.

He let out a little laugh, the kind that mixes humming and nose blowing, the kind you do when a remark makes you nostalgic.

“Friday, 5pm, library, don't be late.” he said simply, the clink of his cane echoing on the floor as he began to walk away.

As your eyes roamed over the page, you couldn't help but take in nothing of what was written. Your mind was stuck on him, on the trick Heimerdinger had just played on you.

He had just orchestrated a game that the whole school was going to bet on, the teachers were going to look at your situation in a new light, and in the worst case scenario, multiply the group work to put you both in pairs.

Your heart looped as you realised that this was undoubtedly another test. Heimerdinger was going to observe which of you was the best performer, the most pliable, the best at teamwork.

You had to be flawless, you had to.

Friday came earlier than you imagined, and you weren't looking forward to it in the least. You hadn't stopped thinking about it, finding yourself on numerous occasions distracted during your homework.

The card of the day you had drawn was Temperance, and the little booklet told you:

Alchemy. Mixing and harmonising opposing forces and concepts. Maintaining opposing ideas and encouraging complexity in life. Fusion produces evolution.

The archangel Gabriel, the angel messenger, is represented on the card. He wears the sign of the sun on his forehead. This is also the alchemist's symbol for gold. This card reflects the changing of the seasons and the adoption of new ideas. Temper in Latin is the act of repetition to invoke skill or to refine something, to make it sharper like a sword.

What a pain that was, and to think you'd have to endure this for a whole month of deep research and hours spent by his side working, together.

You dragged your feet as you made your way to the academy library.

It was a magnificent place, filled with the smell of varnished wood, old paper and dried ink. The ceiling was arched, the bookshelves forming real walls that separated the room like rows of pews in a church. If it hadn't been reserved for the academy's research students, it would surely have been on Piltover's list of monuments to visit.

There weren't many people there, apart from a small handful of students finishing their homework before basking in the arrival of the weekend. You were a good fifteen minutes early, and didn't see Viktor at all.

You were just about to put your bag and things down by a table and start your research, when a voice you wouldn't have preferred to hear at the time greeted you:

“Ah, there you are,” Viktor approached, coming out of one of the library corridors, “I just needed some help to get to the higher tomes.”

With his free hand, he held up a small stack of tomes, pressing them under his chin before placing them on a table with two or three other books already laid out.

You sighed, moving your things over to his table, “Have you been there for long already?”

“Why, do you care about me?” his cheeky grin made you roll your eyes.

“I think you overestimated my greatness. Which shelf?”

He said nothing, making his way to one of the shelves. You followed him. Fortunately, the women's uniforms at the academy had trousers. You wouldn't have known what to do if it had been otherwise and you'd ended up on a ladder above him.

“You know,” he began as you reached the meagre ladder to the upper shelves, “I've been looking forward to working with you.”

You arched an eyebrow, your hand gripping the ladder as you looked at him in confusion.

“Why?”

The two of you were only picking on each other, you were avoiding him like the plague, and you'd made it clear to him several times that your situation was that of a competition. So obviously you had a right to be surprised as to why he'd want to work with you.

He shrugged. “You were the top student before I came here, surely there must be a reason behind it.”

You expelled an abrupt puff from your lungs, your breath taken away by his insolence. You could only expect it after all.

You climbed a few steps up the ladder, looking for Zaun's historical tomes.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment, or am I to believe my working buddy seeks to diminish me to a fictive second rank?”

“We're in a library, alas, reality catches up to this fiction, miss number two.”

You clutched the volume in your hand, your nostrils flaring for a moment in anger. He knew how to annoy you, and you never seemed to find a single point on which you could reciprocate.

You held out the tomes one by one for him to take. “Guess I could work on a pet name for you too.”

“Be my guess.”

Once his arm was full, you took a few tomes in your hands before climbing down the ladder and walking towards the table. “And make you the honour of thinking of something to be done for you ? I'd rather lick sandpaper.”

He feigned disappointment, “So I do disgust you, this pains me.”

You set the pile of volumes down on the table, reaching into your bag to pull out paper and pens.

“Yeah well, You were supposed to pretend I didn't exist, not try to bother me to death. So I guess we're both disappointed.”

He took a seat, grabbing a volume and placing it in front of him. “So I bother you ?”

You sat down opposite him, imitating his gesture as you searched with interest for a tome to start with.

“What a transcending sense of observation you have.”

He brought both his hands up in front of him, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers.

“How do I bother you?”

You were starting to get annoyed by his questions. You had come here to work, not to chat.

“Your simple existence?” you replied, staring into his eyes.

He sighed, opening his book and noting on the page its title.

“As if yours wasn't proof that failure has a sense of humour.”

You said nothing, letting his comment wander in the air as you started your own research in silence, locating the chapter of interest to you in the table of contents.

“But seriously,” Viktor continued, “why do I bother you?”

You sighed, pinching the page you were on before shifting your eyes from the words on it to Viktor's curious amber gaze.

“You want an honest answer ?”

He nodded. You let go of the page, straightening up.

“You come into my life and wreck everything I've built brick by brick, wouldn't you be the slightest bit frustrated if that happened to you ?”

It was his turn to be silent this time. He seemed to look at you differently, as if, by some miracle perhaps, he'd just realised what was at stake for you in this situation.

He wasn't even touching the tip of the iceberg of why you'd come to the Academy, but for a moment he seemed to understand how important it could be for you.

Your eyes returned to your page, trying to find keywords to write down or information to record.

“You surpassed me in the exam, teachers love you, you make great friends…”

“Almost sounds like you're obsessed with me.”

Your lips parted, eyes wide as you looked at him as if he'd just slapped you, leaving your cheek and your thoughts with a warm tingle. You were so surprised that nothing came from your lips, which was beginning to be enough for a flash of mischief to cross Viktor's eyes and for the corner of his lips to form a sneer.

“I'm not.” You finally reply, trying to remain composed and not to stammer for anything in the world.

“Denial would've worked before the long vacant stare,” he says, advancing slightly on the table.

“Why do you have to be like that?”

“Like what?”

You humph, dropping back in your chair in despair.

“Better than me.”

He recoiled slightly, as if the remark was completely far-fetched and unfounded.

“There are thousands of people better than me, why do you have to focus on my poor self, hm? Did I barge in your territory?”

He had, unconsciously he truly had. It was you who was supposed to be first, otherwise the consequences would've been mentally dire.

“Take it this way,” he continued, “there's surely something you're better at than me.”

You couldn't think of much on the spot, especially not when there was a possibility of you making a list of things he topped you in. There was surely one thing though.

“Running.”

He opened his lips in surprise, a smile stretching across his face which he hid with his hand. You were already regretting what you'd just said.

“Jayce is going to be the first one hearing about this.”

“No it's-”

“So you're participating in a system made against disabilities.”

“I never-”

“Are you going to steal my crutch next in hopes of beating me to a race?”

“You're never going to drop this now are you ?”

“With such a statement ? Never.”

“Whatever let's just- let's just work.” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and shame as you desperately try to move on.

He gave one last chuckle before getting back to work. He seemed to be reading a tome on the history of the masters of Zaun.

“About Tytos, I still think you've got that wrong.” he said as he read another page from the tome.

“I think I'm going to smash your face in.” you replied calmly without looking at him.

“As if you could reach me.”

“You know what-” you began, raising your voice.

However, somebody shushed you in the room, restricting you to remaining calm.

“Raising your voice in a library? You'd have to be a stupid fool.”

“Trying to contradict me when even Heimerdinger considered my answer excellent is not the wisest either.”

“Heimerdinger would tell a snail that goes slightly faster than the norm it's excellent. But maybe your low self esteem is just common sense.”

“Maybe my self esteem will just leave this library right now.” you say, crossing your arms on the table.

“And leave me to pursue this matter on my own? That wouldn't be very serious, miss number two.”

You sighed, getting back to work. Your blood was boiling in your veins just from sitting at this table.

“None of the books mention Tytos.”

“Since when do you trust Piltover books on the accounts of the history of Zaun ?”

Touché. He raised his eyebrows as if it were the only relevant thing you could have said.

“You never said where you were from, in Zaun,” he remarked.

You tensed slightly. “Why do you want to know that ?”

“We're making an exposé on Zaun, we're both from there, might as well just know it,” he said, raising his eyes to yours.

You watched him for a moment, he didn't seem to want to make a joke of you once your answer was out of your mouth. But in any case, you weren't going to give it to him.

“You wouldn't know,” you replied simply as you jotted down another date.

‘I'm sure that I-”

“You don't want to know.’ you said firmly, the seriousness taking over your face to assure him that this was certainly not territory he wished to venture into.

He frowned, confused. He seemed deeply intrigued by you, and that made you uncomfortable. Never before in your life had anyone asked you so many questions about yourself in such a short space of time. And so here he was, shaking up every one of your pillars like a bowling ball knocking over pins.

This one, however, was not about to give way.

You looked at your watch for a moment, sighing.

“Let's work for one more hour. We'll make a plan and subparts of what we'll talk about at the end of it.”

This time Viktor seemed to get the message: silence. 

You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. You noticed the way his long fingers flicked across the pages, the way his eyebrows furrowed as he read, the way he rested his cheek on the back of his hand with a sigh as he read a boring piece of writing. 

Or when he would click his pencil for a moment to write something down, and his handwriting would lie gracefully on the paper, scratching the grain of the paper.

It was not without surprise that, once the hour had passed, there was hardly anyone in the library but the two of you. 

When you explained your plan for the presentation to Viktor, he agreed, simply giving a few perfectly critical and serious remarks without condescending to him in any way.

“Good. I think this is a good time to stop for today,” you said as you stood up, taking a stack of books in your arms.

All in all, working with Viktor like this wasn't so bad, when it was done in silence. But as soon as either of you opened your lips to say anything, politeness left the room in great strides.

You put each tome away in its old place, both of you taking your things, and left the library. The academy wasn't closed yet, and some people still had classes or were hanging around in the corridors.

You walked side by side, your pace the same as Viktor's. All the students seemed to turn around as you passed, your duo seeming like a pair of circus animals. 

You glanced at Viktor, who didn't seem in the least affected by this.

However, a trio of students were watching you with evil, mocking eyes. You couldn't help but tense up, however, when the one who seemed as tall as he was stupid remarked: 

“Die already, cripple. You're slowing the traffic.”

Your shoulders tensed as you walked, expecting to do what you'd always had to do here despite the taunts: ignore and move on.

But Viktor wasn't going to listen to you like that.

“Thank you for your advice, I'll try euthanasia once you'll be able to count higher than the number of butterfingers you've got.”

A few chuckles echoed in the corridor at his reply, but the young man seemed to be boiling with hatred. It was as you passed in front of them that, in a cowardly move, he kicked Viktor's cane.

He lost his balance, falling face first to the ground as his cane fell beside him. The air stopped for a moment with the shock of the gesture, your eyes shifting from Viktor on the ground to the idiot who had just knocked him over. Students knelt down beside him immediately to help him.

“Oops, my foot slipped. Sorry.”

But nothing, of course, conveyed any regret at this behaviour.

He turned his back and walked off with his group of friends. Your blood ran cold.

Quickly, you grabbed Viktor's cane, which was still on the ground, and made it whistle through the air before it struck the back of the student's knees. It was his turn to shrivel up on the floor, and he immediately turned to you, his cheeks red with anger.

“Oops, my hand slipped,” you said, glancing at the crutch for a moment before returning to him. “Sorry.”

You turned back to Viktor, handing him his crutch. He looked at you with fried whiting eyes, deeply surprised by your gesture without moving a muscle.

“You fucking slut…” you heard behind you.

But as soon as you turned around, a sharp blow hit you in the cheek. The force of it knocked you back two steps, a metallic taste spreading through your mouth. You brought your fingers to your lips, hissing as you touched them, your bottom lip burning. Bringing your fingers back into line of sight, you found them bloodied.

You turned to the student, his face far too satisfied for your liking.

‘’What a brilliant idea,‘’ you breathed as, in one swift movement, you struck his crotch with the crutch.

He bent over instinctively, gasping for breath, before you punched him right in the nose. He fell, cowering on the ground like a miserable insect.

"What's going on here?" asked a stern voice.

Madame Agrane, one of your teachers, came into the corridor. Her eyes fell on Viktor on the floor, your lip split, the student on the ground surrounded by his two friends.

“Everyone in my office, now.”

You pressed a bag of ice cubes to your cheek, sitting next to Viktor who was clutching his crutch in his hands. As for the idiot, he kept grumbling and giving you nasty looks. You recognised him now, the student from the museum, the one that had called zaunites rats.

"Can someone explain to me what happened for you all to end up in such states?" questioned Agrane.

You were about to start but the idiot beat you to it.

"Madame Agrane, I was just minding my own business in the corridor when these two pupils came up to me! One was hitting me with his crutch while the other was punching me. I don't know what I've done to deserve this.' He exclaimed theatrically, Viktor and you looking at him like the most ridiculous being to ever be.

If there was one thing that helped your reputation, it was that you were known as serious students, who didn't fall into the category of those who would start a fight in the corridors for no particular reason.

"That is far from the truth," Viktor retorted calmly. "He insulted me, then made me fall, and then...’

He seemed to be hesitating over his words, or at least looking for the right term. He turned to you, letting his eyes drift for a moment to your split lip, and then back to Madame Agrane's gaze.

"... My friend protected me."

Friend? the word made you clench your jaw, inhaling. It was just a lie, just a word brought to the front to give your teacher sympathy. No, he certainly didn't mean it.

The teacher looked at you, seeming more convinced by your story than the other. Noticing this, the student couldn't help but plead his own case: 

"Madam, these two students come from Zaun. The blood of violence will always run in their veins."

Agrane seemed to give you a new look, as if you and Viktor were ready to pounce on her like two wolves.

"Is this a joke? You started all this," you said, offended.

"Beating you up would have brought greatness to Piltover." he replied.

"Oh, look at you, attempting greatness! Pity it's just an attempt." you sighed, pressing the ice pack a little closer to your cheek to put out the fire your anger was beginning to spread.

"Madam Agrane," he continued, turning to her, "you know what my patron will think about this. Imagine his reaction when he will hear how you have treated his favoured student?"

You had no idea who his patron could possibly have been, but she didn't hesitate for a second to say: 

"Miss, you'll get an hour's detention for your violent behaviour in the corridors. I hope I don't have to catch you again doing such barbaric acts."

Your eyes widened just as much as Viktor's.

"What?! But he's the one who-" you tried, pointing at the idiot who was smiling victoriously.

"There's no buts about it. The discussion is closed. You'll have your detention period this Monday."

"Madam, I think there's been a mistake." Viktor began.

"Do you want to be given detention too, young man?"

Viktor remained silent, sighing before lowering his eyes to the ground.

"Good, see you on Monday, then."

The fool stood up first, walking past you with a foolish grin on his face.

"Bet it feels just like home to be in prison by monday, hm?"

Your lip hemmed in disgust, your nose scrunching up.

"Try what you've done just once more, and I'll personally make sure you have no offspring."

He looked slightly frightened for a moment, then frowned like a child before leaving the room.

You sighed, standing up. You wanted to get out of here right away, away from the horrible feeling of injustice in your heart, away from the word ‘punishment’ burning into your skin.

Your free hand instinctively came to rest on your shoulder for comfort, and you stood up to get your things.

“You didn’t have to do this earlier, you know.” Viktor said.

You sighed, walking towards the door. “Whatever, what is done is done.”

"Hey," Viktor said, standing up behind you.

You didn't even turn to him.

"Thanks, I wasn't expecting that at all."

You waited for something, for anything that would come after what he had just said, but nothing came. Your turned to him.

"Is that all? No remarks about how I'd have been better off hitting him somewhere else, or stupid sarcasm about my action?"

He seemed surprised by your reaction, his face puzzled and almost saddened.

"We're not friends." you said, your face as cold as the ice pack on your cheek. "We're..."

But what were you apart from rivals? Two rivals working together to do a job that would rely on both of you, that wasn't really rivalry. It was camaraderie in a way, you were classmates, but friends?

You pursed your lips, a slight trickle of blood beading from them.

"See you next week."

Without further ado, you left the room. You walked down the corridors, the students staring at you like an alien. You were suffocating under all those sharp, curious, numerous stares. You pressed on, leaving the academy as quickly as possible.

Once outside, you took the first quiet alley you could find.

“Shit!” you swore, pressing your back against the first wall you could find.

You brought your hand up to your forehead, sighing until you almost felt your body slide down the wall, running your palm over your face in frustration and exhaustion.

You wanted to cry, the weight of everything feeling like it was zipping up on you like a body bag. You'd been stupid, acting on your emotions. You should have kept your head down, let the administration do its job, not invented a life of heroism trying to redress the balance that some fool had tipped.

You didn't even like Viktor, but you'd still jumped at the chance to do him justice. No, you didn't like Viktor any more than that.

But you respected him.

Could you be friends with him?

The question passed through your mind for a moment, but you ended up putting it out of your mind.

You let your head fall back against the wall. The thought of an hour's detention in your perfect record seemed to you like a thread sticking out of a beautiful dress, itching to be pulled on. You tried to console yourself, to come to terms with the fact that it was just another hour of extra study. But you couldn't help feeling heavy with pain.

Eventually you gathered up your things and walked home, hoping that the cool night air would help to quench the fire that was still boiling inside you. Winter was on your doorstep, and ready to complicate things.

✦﹒ previous chapter

✦﹒ next chapter

[14dayswithyou]

I literally have the most amazing and wonderful community in the entire world???? T_T In this essay, I will—

This is going to be raw and unedited because I want to get my initial thoughts out there before I forget n go back to crying /pos, but?? Yawl.... I can't even begin to find the words to express how appreciative and grateful I am for each and every one of you!! ;v;

I've spent the past few hours reading through everyone's personally written messages, then rereading them all again to let it all fully sink in. I'm being genuine when I say that I've never felt this loved or appreciated in any community before in my life.

Those in the Discord server might know about this already, but since the start of this year, I haven't really been enjoying myself (nor have I been as active) in the yandere VN community. There was far too much infighting between devs, parasocial communities, and toxic anons that ruined so much for me — so I withdrew from it all and remained in my own small bubble. Even then, I still got belittled, harassed, doxxed, and even became the target of Tall Poppy Syndrome by others; most of which nearly made me want to leave altogether, but the overflowing amount of support from everyone in the 14DWY community made me want to stay.

And even now, after reading all those heartfelt messages... I think it's permanently solidified the little space I occupy here on the internet :3

So... Yeah, long story short (and a story that will likely end up as its own separate Tumblr post gjskskjd), I wasn't enjoying myself at all in the yandere VN community... but I did have the time of my life in the 14DWY community. And it's all thanks to you guys.

I'm genuinely sooooo proud to have such an endlessly kind, social, and talented community; and I'm glad to have brought such an interactive and friendly group of people together over our shared interest in such a nice concept. 14DWY is essentially a labour of my love — and although I'm ultimately creating it for me and my silly interests — it's still something that I want to make worthy of you guys as well. All the love and support you've shown me and 14DWY motivates me to do my very best, and y'all deserve nothing less. So...

Thank you all for finding a comfort character in my Totally Normal Guy and his Totally Not Eccentric quirks. Thank you for all the insanely talented creations y'all make and share with me. Thank you for sending in your silly (/pos) questions and turning them into inside jokes and AUs for the rest of the community to enjoy. Thank you for talking with me and making this space a genuinely fun place for me to be in again.

From the bottom of my heart; thank you all so much. I really hope everyone has had an amazing year so far, and I hope 2025 will be as kind to you as you all were towards me.

I also want to give a big fat massive huuuuuuuge shout-out to Ashe / @flaneur001 my love (/p) for organising the 14DWY letter event on Discord, and for contributing so much of their time and dedication to the 14DWY community. You say you've only been part of the community for a year, but to me, that was a year well cherished and appreciated. The 14DWY community (and me especially) have all been so lucky to spend this past year with you, and I sincerely hope you've enjoyed it as much as we have. You've done so much for me, the community, and the 14DWY Discord server, so it's only fair that you get the recognition you deserve. So thank you, Ashe!! And a big thank you to everyone in the 14DWY Discord who participated in this event as well!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some cryin and sobbin to do <3 /silly /pos

[samuraiko]

CR's BEACON and a bit about it

So of course I had to get in on this because I'm all for discounts and early access and NOT giving money to Twitch and YT if I can help it.

And yes, the site is getting SLAMMED at the moment, but I've now managed to get in, and it's working great.

Couple notes:

If you have the same email address for the CR shop and for Beacon, once your Beacon account is created, it auto-applies the discount to the shop. You will see the price crossed out and a discounted price next to the item (limitations do apply, they go over that).

I gather there is some wonkiness going on with the Discord, so I'd suggest waiting a day or so on that one.

Cooldown (the immediate after-show filming) IS WORTH ITS WEIGHT IN GOLD. Listening to them conspiracy theorizing and Matt answering a couple things (or in more cases, "You don't know!") is just great to watch.

Yes, there is subtitles/captioning, and it looks like it's done by the same folks they have doing the main eps.

Re-Slayer's Take is *NOT* the main cast -- it is run and played by other people. I gather this is in a similar vein to Midst, but them allowing other groups to "play" in Exandria. It is also all-ages-friendly.

There is an app in the Apple store and Android store -- IT IS CALLED POCKET BEACON. HOW FUNNY IS THAT?!

http://beacon.tv

UPDATE: I've seen a couple of Twitter posts about the app possibly being geolocked -- cannot confirm or deny as I live in the United States and thus cannot check (and am reluctant to dick around with my phone).

UPDATE: Someone brought up in the replies that captioning/subtitling is not yet on everything, and in a couple cases, it's a bit wonky. Again, hopefully to be straightened out sooner than later.

UPDATE: Someone else in the replies wondered about whether coming in on a live broadcast late means you can still start from the beginning or not.. IF SOMEONE CAN CONFIRM OR DENY THIS WITH TONIGHT'S BROADCAST, DROP ME AN ASK AND LEMME KNOW, PLEASE!

I'll add more to this post as I encounter things!

STILL MORE UPDATES!

you can join late and start at the beginning, it looks like they upload the whole episode rather than doing a live broadcast.

however, it DOES NOT have subtitles, though the speed and quality can be adjusted.

there is also no break material, just a quick fade in and fade out.

also no ads

AND STILL MORE UPDATES!

In a rare non-Apple access win, can confirm that Pocket Beacon does not appear to be geolocked for Android, at least here in Australia!

EVEN MORE UPDATES!

Re: captioning, 4-Sided Dive does not appear to be captioned/subtitled (yet).

THE UPDATES KEEP ON COMING!

The Android version does appear to support Chromecast

[ohdeerfully]

Spoilers ahead for the final episode!

Imagine reader being a healer for others but is cursed to not being able to heal themselves.

Like during the final battle, their skills are heavily relied on while they also fight along side them. Afterwards they rush to find their lover Alastor to heal the wound on his abdomen. Poor thing was so worried about healing him that they forgot about patching up themselves.

hello everybody im alive........... hello hold your applause /j

i got two very similar requests so i combined them into one! hope thats alright with the two anons! hugs and kisses

Stitches

alastor x reader (fluff) TW: nothing serious, just some briefly graphic(ish) descriptions of violence/gore, reader referred to as female but doesnt influence plot

join my discord!

◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈

It was supposed to be “no big deal” for him; that’s what he had promised you. You worried, of course, but knew better than to pester and beg for him to change his mind. Plus… of all demons to hold back Adam, Alastor seemed like the most capable. You had to trust him. He promised.

You were in the midst of slaying an Exterminator of your own, cutting it down with a sword lined in angelic steel, but you couldn’t help that your train of thought kept returning to the Radio Demon, who was currently on the roof of the Hotel maintaining a forcefield that prevented more angels from joining the battle.

You allowed your eyes to glimpse up towards said roof even though you knew it’d be impossible to see him from your position on the ground. You had looked just in time, however, to see the shield that surrounded the battleground begin to dissolve, an opening blooming around the figure of Adam. 

A sickly cold feeling of dread churned down your spine and into your stomach, but you forced yourself to stay focused. Alastor would be fine, surely. It’s not like he said it was an invincible shield. You had other things to worry about, anyway, when you realized a wasp-like swarm of Exterminators had made their way in from the dissolving forcefield, their glittering white wings and shining angelic weapons molding together in a blur.

You fought along a small group of demons from Cannibal Town, providing aid and healing when possible. It seemed to go on for hours; stab an angel, tear one away from a companion, heal, stab, save, heal… it somehow began to feel monotonous and repetitive. Your whole body stung, littered with wounds ranging in extremity, but you couldn’t stop. Not if you were going to win this thing.

That monotony was broken when the chaos halted for a brief moment—not even a second. You had seen Charlie looking up in… fear? Shock? So, you looked, and your breath hitched. It took you a moment to process.

Why was Adam flying above, looming, grinning, analyzing… Why, when Alastor was supposed to be keeping him occupied? The immediate answer that came to mind brought back that sickening feeling from earlier, but increased a hundredfold. It seemed that Charlie also had a similar idea.

You couldn’t ignore the feeling this time and, against your better judgment, took off towards the crumbling Hotel, abandoning your position as healer. They could wait, honestly. The pounding in your ears and anxiety in your body clouded the sensation of angelic spears grazing past you, filling your already burdened body with more gashes.

You were halted by a powerful beat of wings, wind pushing you backwards onto your back. You scrambled into a sitting position, leaning on your arms. All of the aching, stinging pain from the night seemed to rush in all at once because of the interruption, and you could barely keep your eyes steady on the man in front of you.

The first man, at that—standing all too high-and-mighty above you, a twisted grin curling up his mask. 

“Hey, bitch,” He said almost casually, grabbing you by the hair and lifting you up to be eye level with him. You stifled a pained cry at the sensation, though your eyes filled with tears, betraying both your fear and pain. You hated yourself for looking so weak in front of Adam, but you were almost too exhausted to mask it.

“The fuck did you do to Alastor?” You talked through a mouthful of blood. You spat some out in his face, to which the grip on your head tightened but he seemed otherwise unbothered. You did see a glint of madness in his eyes, though.

“So you’re that fine babe of his?” Adam mocked, looking up and down tastelessly. You didn’t expect much more from the ‘dickmaster’ but you couldn’t help but feel disgusted. “Satan’s daughter told me all about you when she was trying to tell me you gross fucks could be redeemed.”

He started rambling out a multitude of insults and curses. It seemed fitting, you thought, that the stuck-up first man would be too full of himself to keep his guard up and just start going off on a tangent about how cool and awesome he is versus how gross and weak your kind is.

“I mean, the fuck? You all sucked ass at being alive, so why the shit would we let you up into heaven? And, quite frankly, too fucking ugly to live up th—” He choked on the last few words he had, his eyes widening in shock and pain. He dropped you to the ground.

During his rant you had managed to use your heel to kick up a stray spear from beneath you. His tirade had given you enough time to balance the weapon between your feet, aim, and jam it forward into his stomach. The robe he wore darkened, glistening gold seeping into the fabric and from the hole you punctured into him.

“You–” He spat, hovering his shaking hands around the impaled spear. He gingerly pressed a hand against the wound, lifting his bloody palm to his face to look at the mess. He looked up, down, up again, and took a quivering step towards you. There were a million expressions in his eyes all at once; rage, fear, pain, disgust… 

“You fucking bitch,” He took another step, reached a hand out towards you. “You can’t kill me! Nobody can kill Adam! You’re just a worthless, sick, good-for-nothing sinner that couldn’t—fuck!” He stumbled and fell forward, and you jerked away as his fist nearly closed around the hem of your shirt. As much as you hated the guy and wanted him dead, you still cringed at the sight of him falling onto the spear and impaling it completely through his body.

You heard a distant cry of his name, but you didn’t hesitate to see who it was. You took off into the hotel, albeit slowed by a painful limp, and made your way up the stairs towards the radio tower.

There was an ominous feeling in the air as you ascended the ladder into the nearly demolished tower, slowly opening the hatch into the room. An intense, static-y feeling smothered your senses, hair raising and skin prickling at the sensation. You ignored the uncomfortable feeling and peered around the dark room. 

Claw marks and a trail of blood caught your attention, leading your eyes towards a corner where the demon you wanted to see most sat against. He had been wordlessly watching you with glowing red eyes since you entered.

“Al,” You said almost breathlessly as you rushed forward, ignoring the way your leg shot pain throughout your body in protest. You fell gracelessly to your knees in front of him.

“I don’t want you here,” He said rather plainly, a hiss in his voice as he spoke through his teeth and a grimace of a smile. You ignored the comment, eyes traveling over his body before settling on his palm, which was pressed against his abdomen. There was a still-growing patch of dark blood seeping through his shirt and between his fingers.

You reached your hand out towards him, flinched to a halt for a moment when his claws tightened around the fabric of his shirt, but continued. He made no move otherwise to stop you, but you could feel the tension in the air growing as the static ambience got louder.

“I can take care of myself,” He said, his other hand suddenly snatching your wrist. His grin widened, but his eyes narrowed. You frowned at him.

“Yeah, but it’d be a lot easier for me to just fix you now,” You retorted, trying to jerk your hand away from his grip. He didn’t yield. “If you stop being so damn stubborn.”

“I’ve dealt with much worse, my dear,” He continued to convince you to leave him alone, his voice smooth with that manipulatively suave voice he put on sometimes. Unluckily for him, though, you were just as stubborn as him.

“But I’m here this time to help you,” You finally managed to free your wrist from him, your sharp expression unwavering from his own, which seemed equally aggravated. Maybe he was too weak to actually stop you, or maybe he actually did want your help and just wouldn’t admit it, but he didn’t stop you from lifting his bloodied hand from his wound.

You pursed your lips at the grizzly sight, but said nothing. You ignored the stinging smell of blood that flooded your nose. You hovered your hands over the wound, channeling the energy in your body that granted you the ability to rapidly heal others. A faint light flowed from your palm and into the gash across Alastor’s torso, forming glowing stitches that weaved throughout the damaged skin.

Periodically glancing up at his face as you worked, you watched for any sign that told you to stop, but it never came. He stayed silent the whole time, which was… rare, from him. You would never admit this out loud, but Alastor seemed almost… pitiful, in this silent, weakened state. The Radio Demon himself, reduced to a bloodied, passive husk of himself.

After healing so many demons during the battle outside, you had spent so much energy. You were already so weak and exhausted, but you pushed yourself to force just a bit more—

“There,” With a weak sigh, you sat back, admiring your own handiwork. Even though it was magic, it did take some mental ability to know how to use your power. “Was that so hard?” You chided him jokingly.

He gingerly drug a clawed finger down the stitches, analyzing it for himself. 

“I have to admit,” He began, looking up at you. “It would have been nice to have you in my early years as— dear?”

You barely heard what he was saying as all of your senses seemed to get foggy all at once. Your vision blurred and speckled, you ears felt muffled, and you swayed with lightheadedness. You pressed a hand to your face, trying to steady your breath.

“I’m good,” Your voice came out in a quiver. “I think I just—”

You don’t necessarily even remember fainting, but reason that you must have as you stared at the ceiling above you. You woke up ten minutes ago, and spent the time piecing together everything that happened. How much time has passed since then? A couple hours? Days? It was hard to say. Though, you thought as you looked around. The hotel looks… damn good all things considered. 

The door creaked open and your ears perked at the sound of a familiar voice humming some tune that you couldn’t recognize. Considering the atmosphere wasn’t tense, you actually welcomed the prickling, static-like sensation that Alastor’s presence brought. 

“Ah, the sleeping beauty awakes!” He announced pleasantly, setting a plate rattling with two neat little glasses of warm liquid on the bedside table. You eyed them and quirked your eyebrow.

“Seems you were ready for it,” You said, commenting on the fact that he brought two cups.

“Well, what kind of man would I be if I wasn’t au fait to my darling’s status?” He explained, clasping his hands behind his back and leaning over you. He would never admit that he brought up two cups every time he checked on you just in case. 

His overall demeanor seemed appropriately confident and indifferent, but his eyes held an uncharacteristic look of tenderness and worry as he looked over you, analyzing your condition. He sat at the edge of the bed, picking that plate up again and offering you a cup.

You sat up against the headboard and took it with a light smile, warming your hands on the smooth surface. You enjoyed the aroma of the tea, and you realized it was your favorite. How sweet.

The room was silent, save for the quiet sound of a radio that seemed to just… radiate from him… but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Now that you were sitting up, you took the chance to look down and over yourself. Bandages were wrapped tightly over your arms, chest, stomach, legs… basically everywhere. You were suddenly all too aware of the dull ache that afflicted your entire body.

When you looked up, you noticed Alastor had been looking at you rather intensely. His expression was weird and unreadable. You tightened your lips awkwardly at the strangely passionate look in his eyes, looking into random directions to try to ignore it. You tried to concentrate on taking another sip from the cup in your hand, bu, to your dismay, it was already empty. You sat it down on the plate.

“How’s my stitchwork holding up?” In an attempt to dissipate your own awkwardness, you reached towards his abdomen. He caught your hand gently, directing it away from himself. But he didn’t let go.

“No doctor in all of Hell could have done better,” He complimented. He still had a hint of that weird expression. “If only you could fix yourself up the same. Fortunately I have some experience from my time alive…” He trailed off.

You couldn’t contain yourself anymore, jumping forward and tightening your arms around his neck. The static in the air sharpened for a brief second, matching the tenseness in his body, but slowly returned to a normal frequency. After a few more seconds, you felt him slide his own arms around your waist, pressing you against himself.

“You scared the fuckin’ shit out of me,” You said, voice muffled by his coat. “I thought Adam killed you. I thought I was going to find your body buried under the rubble.”

“So you avenged me by killing Adam yourself? I appreciate it,” He remarked lightly, a slight chuckle rumbling from his chest. His voice was low, breath tickling your ear as he held you with a feather-light but somehow still firm grip. 

Alastor was quiet for another moment, and you realized the static in the air had completely dissipated. You also realized the pressure of his arms wrapped around you was getting increasingly tighter.

“You worried me as well,” He said finally. “You were out like a hibernating bear for days. You worried everyone.” You pulled your head out from the crook of his neck and met his gaze.

“Can’t a gal get her beauty rest?” You joked softly, bumping your shoulder against him playfully. He swayed for a moment at the contact, but the eye contact never broke. Wait, was he getting closer? 

Instinctually your eyes closed, and the briefest kiss was placed on your lips, then your nose, then your forehead. Before you could open your eyes, Alastor placed his hand on your head and pressed you back against his chest. He then began rubbing his hand gently on your back in a soothing motion.

Despite being in bed for apparently days, you still felt tired. You sank into him as his claws drug gentle shapes against your skin, careful to avoid bandaged spots. He hummed a quiet tune, and you noticed his microphone of a cane, which was laying against the bedside table, emitted an accompanying song.

“Maybe redemption isn’t all that,” You commented with a sigh, lazily picking at the hem of Alastor’s collar.

“Hmm?” He prompted you to continue.

“Is Hell really so bad if you’re with your favorite soul?” It felt corny to say, but you couldn't really find a better way to phrase it. Plus, you couldn't take this rare moment of tenderness for granted.

His hand paused for a moment, and he gently squeezed your arm in response. You felt him press another light kiss to the top of your head.

“I know, now,” He finally replied. “Just the feeling.”

[spiderlandry]

Love Language — ethan landry

Description: You regularly hugged all of your friends besides Ethan. He wonders why.

Pairing: Ethan Landry x GN!Reader

Warnings: reader is shorter than ethan, some teasing, confessions, no ghostface, mention of a dead childhood pet once, lmk if theres anything i should add !!

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s note: is this very specific to me? yes.

BLACKMORE UNIVERSITY, FRESHMAN YEAR

When Ethan first met you, he thought you and Chad were dating.

The first time he met Chad’s friend group and inevitably became a part of it, there was talk amongst them of a link in their friendships currently studying a semester abroad, which he quickly found was you. They talked greatly of you, and Chad said you’d known them since freshman year of highschool besides Sam. The Woodsboro murders only brought you five closer together.

Safe to say Ethan had quite high expectations. There were photos he’d seen, and you were…attractive, to say the least. (If Ethan was honest, he’d say hot.) And by the way everyone talked about you like you were an angel, he wasn’t actually expecting you to be the closest thing to a deity he’d ever seen—but he was proven wrong.

You were introduced when you finally came back for the spring semester, and Quinn teased him afterward for being reduced to a bumbling idiot at the mere sight of you. (It was even worse when you talked to him.)

But after a week or so, your intimidation levels went down significantly. You weren’t just an angel by looks, you were an angel by character. Even if Ethan hadn’t known you for long, the thing that stood out most was your compassion. How you cared so deeply for others that it only inspired those around you, including him.

What made him contemplate your relationship with Chad were the hugs.

Ethan was there when they picked you up at the airport. You hugged your friends from Woodsboro and Anika (since you’d known her over Facetime), then waved an awkward introduction with Ethan as he desperately tried not to stutter out his name.

He thought, okay, that was normal. Hugging your friends you hadn’t seen in a long time.

But as time progressed he noticed that every time he happened to see you, either on campus or when some of them would grab a bite to eat and you were invited, you would always be hugging Chad.

Ethan’s data was only gathered during this short week after you arrived, and he realized he was completely wrong when he began to hang out more with the rest of the group, not just Chad.

You hugged everybody.

He put it together when he spotted you at a popular lunch spot with Tara, embracing her for a good minute or so. He also went to Quinn’s place of residence which happened to also be the Carpenter sisters’, and Sam was holding you in the kitchen while something was cooking.

He started noticing it every single time. There was Mindy and Anika, who you drunkenly hugged at a lame party (in which he’d never admit that he attended just to see you), then Quinn at some point when he ran into both of you on campus.

Throughout the next few weeks, he accepted that it was just your way of showing you loved your friends. And he wasn’t close to you yet, but he was looking forward to the day he would be.

SOPHOMORE YEAR

The diner a few blocks from your place became familiar with you and your friends constantly hanging out there, and even if it could get rowdy, the staff couldn’t help but appreciate that you all tipped well despite being college students.

Ethan didn’t put much thought into the hugs a year into knowing you, his thoughts were replaced by how much you spent time with him. You asked him to hang out. You texted him. You even did study calls over discord, and you’d be able to hear Chad teasing him in the background and you always laughed it off.

Soon enough, you consumed every corner of his mind, and every good thing he saw would come back to you. He saw the moon come out every night and was reminded of how much you loved it. Whenever he encountered a stray cat, he thought about stories you told of your childhood cat, a picture of her still in your wallet though she died years ago. At a store, he would remind himself to grab the chips you liked.

You occupied places in his psyche so much that it felt like he was drunk on you. He guessed that’s why he forgot about the hugs pretty quickly.

At least, he forgot about them until you were at the diner with him, Chad, and Tara. They were always the most available, often down to do whatever when you’d text to the groupchat if anyone was free.

Chad was frowning at his phone, brows furrowed.

You were sitting across from him, next to Ethan, when you noticed.

“What’s wrong, C?” You inquired, putting a piece of fry dipped in milkshake in your mouth.

Ethan was focused on his milkshake, and how you occasionally would dip your fries in—without double dipping, of course—it made his heart flutter even if it was the simplest of actions. The domesticity of it. He may as well be your boyfriend, he fantasized.

“This quiz is wrong.” Chad scowled.

Tara, right next to him, peeped at his screen. She laughed. “Why are you taking this?”

Chad shrugged exaggeratedly, almost reminiscent of a moody kid. “I was watching this video essay about love languages last night, so I got curious.”

You smiled, taking in the context. “Did you do a quiz on what your love language is?”

He nodded.

“Can I see?”

He handed you his phone, and it read Physical Touch. Ethan scooted closer next to you to read it and you tried to ignore the faster beat of your heart when you thighs began to touch.

“Y’know what? It’s kinda right,” Tara chimed in.

“Really?” Her boyfriend turned to her.

“You have your hand on my thigh right now.” She chuckled, a soft sound as she leaned in closer to him.

Reading further, it also said Words of Affirmation was a close second.

Ethan finally spoke, “You should listen to your girlfriend, Chad.”

You handed the phone to Tara when she motioned for it. “Words of affirmation also seems right,” she added.

“Seriously?” Chad asked, his tone lifting to showcase disbelief. “Does everybody know this but me?”

Ethan pulled a memory from his brain. “You always hype me up at parties. Remember when you kept calling me a snack at that Halloween party last year?”

His roommate gave it a moment, then responded, “Alright, fine. I guess you’re right.” He looked to Tara with an unsaid question that only she knew how to read. A question that was ‘are they actually right?’

“Well, I can’t exactly say it at the table.” She said it teasingly at Chad, but with a lilting tone that told you it was, to say the least, inappropriate.

Ethan put a hand on his face, “Please have some decorum, guys.”

“Yeah, come on.” You joked. “I’ve had enough of you two lovebirds.“

Chad glanced at you, feigning offence. “Don’t act like you’re not the same!”

“Woah, woah—“ You interrupted. “With whom?“

He pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes going to Ethan, who had a panicked look.

“What? What makes you think that? Why are you looking at me?” Ethan said a tad too quickly which made Tara almost snort.

“Let’s not…” You shook your head slowly, “start this.”

Now, what did you mean by that? Ethan thought.

Chad shrugged. “What about you, roomie? What’s your love language?” He asked, moving away from the subject of you and Ethan which you were eternally grateful for. But the question still plagued Ethan, unbeknownst to you.

“Um…” He thought for a second. “What are the love languages?” He asked when he realized he didn’t actually know the other ones.

“I think yours is acts of service,” You interjected. You were looking him up and down, as if you were scanning him for something. He couldn’t help but almost cower under your wandering eyes, but he stood his ground, a mental battle inside his head of which you were completely unaware.

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” Tara agreed. “Yeah.” She reiterated, more sure of it.

“Listen to your partner in crime, roomie.” Chad smirked.

You tilted your head at the partner in crime part, you’d never heard yourself be referred to with that regarding Ethan. Not that you minded.

Ethan shot him a very stern look, as if they had a silent conversation. (To your obliviousness, it was because Ethan referred to you as his partner in crime to Chad a few days ago, giving his roommate more ammo to use.)

“Why do you guys think it’s acts of service?” Ethan shifted the topic back.

“Well,” you began. “You always bring me chips when you come back from a store.”

“He only does that to you, though.” Tara said.

“Does he?” You turned to him for an answer.

“Well—I do stuff for other people too.”

“Like what?”

“I do the dishes at our house. I mop the floor, I do stats homework for Anika.”

“That’s all true,” Chad agreed. “Okay, so yours is acts of service. Y/N, what about you?”

“Definitely physical touch.” Tara nodded, certain of it.

“Oh, for sure, for sure.” Her boyfriend concurred.

“Wait, what makes you guys so sure?” You smiled regardless of your questioning tone, appreciative of the way your friends paid attention to your actions.

“Do we even have to start?” Tara asked, “The hugs?”

“Yeah, you’ve been doing it since high school.”

“Within two days of knowing me, you hugged me in Ms. Thompson’s class,” She added.

“Okay, you’re right, but—“ You started.

“What else could there be?” Chad interrupted.

It was then that a quiet voice piped up from next to you, so quiet a whisper you could’ve missed it if the diner weren’t empty. “You’ve never hugged me.”

Ethan sounded so dejected, so…defeated?

It broke your heart.

He regretted it even before he said it, and judging from everyone’s faces apparently he needed to rid himself of the habit of saying things out of turn.

Tara’s eyes were a little wide, while Chad puffed air from his mouth.

He refused to look at you.

“Never—nevermind,” He waved it off.

“I was just getting to that,” You furthered. “My love language is different for certain people!” You exclaimed.

“Is it?” Tara questioned, eyes narrowing. (You’d realize later how much of a bait this was.)

“For you guys, I’ve known you for a while so I’m comfortable touching you.”

Chad had the same expression as his girlfriend, “But you do the same to Anika and Quinn.”

It dawned on Ethan that they were pretty much backing you both into a corner. “Guys—“

“But—that’s—that’s different,” you insisted.

A long pause. Nobody could decide if it was awkward.

“…Is it?” Ethan finally spoke, a piece of courage in exchange for dignity. He needed the answer.

You fidgeted in your seat, not knowing how to say it. But you wanted to, badly. The answer was etched into your bones, weaved into your DNA.

“Fine,” you shrugged. “Wanna know the truth? I was going to say, before you interrupted me, that my love language changes when it’s romantic, okay?”

The answer was Ethan.

You didn’t know what was going to happen next. At this point, your heart was in your feet and you’ve scooted away from Ethan.

He was breathing shallowly as if he’d just ran a marathon. “Can you…elaborate?”

You took a deep breath, “Do you seriously not know?”

He shook his head.

Then you did something he never expected.

You reached for his arm and guided him out of the booth, heading for the door and ignoring your friends’ looks when you exited the diner.

Chad and Tara were left to anticipate.

Right outside of the dimly lit diner, on sidewalk, you positioned yourself right in front of him.

You stared right into his brown doe eyes, and hugged him. You put your arms around his torso, under his arms, your head on his upper chest.

It took him a good second to reciprocate, but it was worth it. The warmth that radiated from his touch was one you never forgot, even if you couldn’t feel it again for a thousand years. (But you’d never let that happen.)

You were hugging him because you couldn’t face him while you said what you were about to say.

“I don’t hug you because if I did, it would mean different.” Your voice was muffled by his jacket. “I don’t love you the way I love my friends.”

With your head where it was, you felt his breath hitch. “What—what do you mean?”

You laughed, and Ethan revelled in the rumble of your joy in his chest.

“I mean…I spend my time with you differently because I love you differently. I hug my friends, but I spend time with you, because I…”

He didn’t know if he had the strength to keep himself upright.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

He was silent.

“And—and you don’t have to even…feel the same, but I didn’t want you to wonder if I loved you or not because I couldn’t let me being scared take that from you. Because you deserve to know. I think.”

Your voice was so unstable that it tapered off by the end, as quiet as Ethan was.

His embrace tightened, trying to pull you closer. He leaned down and put his head on your shoulder.

“I can’t believe you’d say that—that I don’t have to feel the same.”

Now he felt your breath hitch.

He continued, “I think I already loved you when we met. Is that weird?”

You laughed. And he memorized that sound.

“It’s not weird. I think it happened to me too.”

The biggest weight on both of your shoulders were lifted, something you thought wasn’t possible.

He breathed you in, memorizing the edges of your body as you kept talking.

“I’m sorry they kept teasing you because of me. Tara knew, so Chad probably knew, too.”

He pulled away slightly, looking at you.

“I thought they were teasing me because Chad knew.” His eyebrows were pinched, and you put two and two together at the same time.

Your eyes snapped to the window of the diner, seeing Chad and Tara’s heads disappear from the view when they ducked down, trying to avoid you from spotting their peeping. But you saw it anyway.

You focused back on Ethan, and while he was still looking at the window, you put a soft hand on his cheek and guided his head to face you again.

“It was a set up,” He sighed.

“It was.” You nodded.

“Should we be mad?”

“Are you?”

“Not when you’re in my arms.”

You grinned. “Since when did you have game?”

“I have you, don’t I?”

You playfully slapped his arm. “Wanna go back to my place?”

“If I ever say no to that, kill me.”

[biancadoes1]

Let’s do a little T recap for anyone who doesn’t know her awful ways:

The timeline she created was the first time anyone brought up a rumor about N and JD. Before T shoved it down everyone’s throats, it was always understood they were just friends, he was a little bro in their group, and that he may or may not even be interested in N romantically. Her “proof” was supposedly a leaked Spotify playlist labeled “JD” that came from Nic’s personal Spotify. She holds the image of that, but said she wouldn’t share it out of “respect for Nic’s privacy.” You’ll hear later on why that is bullshit.

When the pap pics from the festival came out, she jumped ship fast and began to say how cute he was, get it Nic, and now sexualize Nic with JD the way she would sexualize both Nic and Luke. I was on her live when the pap pics came out and she was already being like, “I knew it!”

When the NYC pap videos came out, she became abrasive and was calling out creators who didn’t jump ship with her. She spun this narrative that anyone who continues to ship Luke and Nic is hurting their careers and friendship. Meanwhile, she was the first one to post the video that was obtained by someone she was in a groupchat with. She even boasted about how she got “permission” from the person who took the picture. She was ecstatic that she was the one to first post the video before DM got a hold of it. Okay, so we’re going to post about Nic’s location in real time, but this supposed playlist we can’t show anyone?

She then created a giant, public discord that was supposed to be a “safe space,” yet she goes there to bash Luke, Lukola shippers, people on Twitter, call everyone in our group homophobic, and my favorite damning piece of evidence that she’s awful: shared explicit images with minors. Also, she and Karla share nasty photoshop and AI images of N and JD and it’s really freaking weird and creepy.

She has been saying since September that she knows for a fact N and JD are a couple. She will not show her “proof” which she has claimed to have for months now. Whenever something comes out that goes against what she is saying, she jumps on the defensive and starts attacking people. She goes on and on about “proof” that she has without ever giving it up. Let’s be so for real, the way she jumps on new info like a kid in a candy store, if she had ANYTHING to prove she was right then it would’ve already been sold to DM. No one in that group can keep their mouths shut (I.e. why the tifcord chat keeps getting leaked), so I don’t believe a word she says, no one else should. Literally ignore her

Oof. Thank you for laying it out like this, anon.

Proof for months and it’s still not been released? She’s the sole keeper of this “proof”?

I hope people are understanding the utter disaster of a person Tifaine is. She’s a problem in this fandom.

When I tell you she’s also incredibly manipulative and gaslighting in a one on one conversation, it’s easy to see how many people have been led to believe a total lie if they’ve never faced this type of person before.

[thequeer07puss]

Pagans need community!

And I don’t mean the stuff we do on Tumblr or in Discord servers of whatever. I mean real life, face-to-face, communal practices that can be done in public. This is the only way we can get stuff like state recognition and temples to pray in.

Community is how the Abrahamics stay alive, community is what brought Wicca and neopaganism to the light, community is what we need. In the olden days the gods would be worshipped by whole states, cities, villages and households, but today it seems that we mainly have household worship, making ourselves content with the individualistic and private (hence relatively hidden) nature of our respective practices. But this won’t further any hope we may hold of getting back the temples and stuff.

Find other pagans in your area, form group chats, meet up and discuss, do rituals together, found and grow your community together. Pagans are closer than you think, and we are here when you least expect it. You just need to ask the gods to help you find them, or to help them find you, and they will steer you towards the right path. Ask and you shall receive.

Community starts with us. May the gods be with you

[P.S: I’m only speaking about what I’ve observed within Hellenic and Kemetic pagan spaces. I don’t know about other traditions but I think it’s a pretty universal message for those of us who yearn for temples and a blooming pagan community.]