#I'm blaming Flaming for this because the reason she is that high up there is because of 1 of the art contests

[just-a-lesbian-human]

I'm doing something with gacha right now and it includes all my versions of 4 and this gives me a very important question

Why do I have so many versions of my 4???

I have 5 in total

Like what???????

She is tied with my 8 for the most versions of a agent character right now(possibly will get even more for the next 4 art contest (I PROMISE I'LL FINALLY DO IT AGAIN WHEN THE DATE IS ANNOUNCED))

[roseareeh]

Camp | Steve Harrington x Reader x Billy Hargrove

Notes: I rly like this one, and I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do 🤍

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Sexual Innuendos

"I'm so tired.", Jesse sighted while sitting down next to you around the bonfire. "Go to bed then, we're not forcing you.", you simply replied while putting your marshmallow on a stick. All week, Jesse wouldn't shut up about how tired she was and that cheer camo was so exhausting. God, she was annoying. At the same time, she still stayed.

Because cheer camp this time was grouped with the basketball camp. Since this camp was only for teams in Indiana and not many signed up, you were grouped together for financial reasons. And Jesse was desperately to get Mark Lewinski's attention with her Damsel In Distress tactic. Unfortunately, it worked when he helped her get up and brought her to her dorm.

A small "Oooh." went around the group of basketball players and cheerleaders as they looked after them. You didn't care; the marshmallow you were roasting was much more important. Chrissy got comfortable next to you and watched your candy go crispy brown before you took it out, blew on it a bit and then proceeded to eat it. "CN you make me one, too?", she asked you in her usual soft, yet cheery voice. Since your mouth was full, you nodded and put another marshmallow on your stick.

Billy was watching you through the flames from the other side. The gooey candy was leaving a white string on your lips and chin. It made his imagination go wild, just the same way it went wild when he saw a glimpses of your ass during practice earlier. The things he'd do to you, if you let him.

Steve was watching you from the side. To him, you looked adorable with your mouth full. He liked the way you enjoyed the little treat, and how you showed Chrissy how to make it the same way you did. Just how he liked the way you high-fived your teammates earlier after a pep-talk. The things he'd do to you, if you let him.

Steve fell from his glory as king when Billy stepped into the picture. Well, the actual reason was long before that, but if he can blame someone else the blow of it wouldn't be that hard. He came to camp to prove that he still deserved that title; to himself and others.

Billy was basking in the glory right now. All the girls wanted him, the team loved him. What more could he ask for? He was at camp to get girls; especially you.

You were playing hard to get, that's the one thing both would agree on if said out loud. Even if they meant it in different ways. You were amazing at cheerleading, gave good pep talks and were eager to help while also speaking your mind. Both were attracted to you, although the type of attraction was different for the two boys.

"I think if we add two cupies in the routine, we have a chance at regionals.", you said to Chrissy while she was munching on her marshmallow. She couldn't responde until she swallowed her first bite, but the raised eyebrow was a giveaway. "Do you think we can do that?", she asked you. While she was team captain, Chrissy was well aware of the fact that you also did cheerleading outside of school and had a few more years of experience than her. "I know I can do it, and I trust my base. I think Stephanie could learn it, too."

Steve listened and watched from afar in awe. Your passion was beautiful; it was what made you attractive to him in the first place. Every time you stepped onto the basketball court to cheer for the Hawkins basketball team, he fell for you more. And when you comforted his team after loosing, he couldn't be mad about the failed game. Because you were always there.

Billy only imagined you spinning in the air, seeing your ass underneath that uniform. That's why he loved seeing you on the court. He wanted nothing more than for you to show him your moves in his bed. Especial how flexible you were. The positions he could throw you in...

"I think I'll get to bed. I need to be up for practice, if we're gonna do that." You stretched while getting up; Billy had a perfect view of your hips and Steve had a perfect view of your adorably tired face. "I'll come with you, I was gonna go to bed soon as well.", Steve quickly said while getting up. You gave him a small smile and a nod. "Good, because I'm a bit scared of the dark." You two started walking towards the dorms, leaving Billy behind with a mind full of anger. How dare Harrington get between his plans?

"Well, whatever raccoons might be out there, I'll protect you from them.", he joked while walking beside you. A laugh left your lips - a beautiful sound to Steve - at his words. "Oh yeah, they might have rabies." He laughed as well. "I'd catch rabies to protect you." The fact that Steve had a crush on you was obvious to you. He flirted at any occasion, it was so clear to see like a snake jumping into your face. At the same time, his flirting humoured you. "What a cavalier.", you joked. "Don't think you can protect me for long if you have rabies, though. And the basketball team needs you." He was a good player but since his fall from glory, Steve greatly underestimated himself. It was a bit sad to see, since you saw his potential. "They'll be fine without me. I'll graduate in a few months anyways.", he stated while looking up at the stars.

You hit his side with your elbow, though not to hard. "You know why Billy is so good?" Why did you have to mention Billy out of all people? "Because he's a cocky asshole. He knows he's good, so he's good." You calling Billy an asshole actually felt good, for some reason. "You're good, but you don't know it. So be a bit cocky, just maybe not an asshole." You both laughed, shortly before he dropped you off at your dorm.

You know he's good. That's what he thought about while laying in bed.

"Looking good up there, Ms. (Y/L/N).", Billy commented while he watched you standing on the hands of your base while holding a split. "You're distracting me.", you warned him. "I think you're the one distracting me, actually.", he continued. Your base let you down and set you to the ground while most of the girls from your team made a small "Oooh." sound. With an eyeroll, you walked over to him. "Can I help you?", you asked. He was shirtless, as per usual, and looking down at you with a smug smirk. "I can think of something you can help me with.", Billy said, still smirking. "And I can think of something I don't wanna help you with.", you replied as you propped your hands on your hips. He took a step closer to you, although his smirk faltered a bit. "And I can think of something between us that you're denying." Billy leaned towards your ear and started whispering. "Harrington is just a pretty boy. I can make you see stars, baby."

It was at this very moment that you realized one thing and decided another: Billy and Steve were fighting over you, and you'd use that as entertainment for the next two weeks at camp.

"We could go skinny dipping.", Stephanie suggested while you two walked away from practice to go see the basketball team as they finished up. Her boyfriend Chance was on the team, and she loved watching him play. But her suggestion was a bit odd. "Maybe in my underwear. I'm not getting naked in front of you-know-who." She laughed a bit and nodded. "Nobody's stopping you from wearing your bikini. But some of us are gonna enjoy getting naked. Amy has been eyeing Billy for a while now." The mention of Billy made you smirk, but in a humoured way. "She can have him, I don't care." You stopped in front of the gym and put your hands in your pockets. "I need to make a call, but I'll see you at the lake later."

You decided to wear your bikini to the lake. Fortunately, nobody really felt the skinny dipping mood which meant pretty much everyone was in their underwear or quickly for their bathingsuits- or short in the meantime. "Looking good, Mrs. (Y/L/N).", Billy commented with his signature smug smirk. "Do you have any other line to flirt with? I already know that one." He took a step closer and looked down at you. But that damn smirk never faltered. "Maybe you can make me do some different sounds."

You slapped his peck lightly before walking off. "Be more creative, Hargrove!", you yelled as you strutted into the lake. Billy enjoyed the perfect view of your ass while you walked away.

The moon looked beautiful on the lake. Especially when you were so near to the reflection. Steve thought the same, which is why he now stood beside you. "She makes you look really beautiful.", he said while looking at you. It was all true - the light made your eyes shine more than the sun. He could look at them for hours. If only he could. "She?", you asked.

"The moon. She.", Steve clarified. You giggled a bit. "Thank you for the compliment." You looked him in his eyes and saw sincerity. As much as you wanted Billy and Steve fighting over you as your own comedy programme, it made you feel bad. Steve was actually serious about you. "It's really sweet of you, but-"

You were cut off by Billy approaching. "What do we have here?", he asked while putting his arm around your shoulder. You shoved it off just as quick. "Come on sugar, wouldn't you want to have a little joyride?"

"You're getting really annoying, Billy."

"You love it just as much as I do. Call it a...game." His fingers ran through your hair, which you tried to avoid. "I must admit, you do entertain me." He scoffed at your comment, followed by a smirk. "And if I do well, you can entertain me."

Steve watched quietly before speaking up. "I don't think she wants to talk to you." Billy's face changed to an annoyed one in the snap of a finger. "I think she can decide that herself."

"It's nice to have boys fight over me, but I' here to enjoy the lake, not cock." Just like that, you got under the water and swam away. For once, you humoured then with the way you left the situation.

When there was another bonfire a few days later, Billy sat down right next to you. "What a coincidence.", he said, referring to the empty space. "How can I reject you today?", you replied. It made him laugh a bit. "Wouldn't it be nice if you were just honest with me and let it happen?", Billy asked while leaning back a bit. It showed off a bit of his stomach as his shirt rolled up. "You're just...not my type, you know?" You leaned back as well, putting the both of you at the same eye level. "Ouch." He put his hand on his chest and gave you a theatrical, hurt look. "First time I heard that."

"It was ought to happen at some point in your life, no?" For the first time, you gave him a smug smirk. "I promise you, baby, I'll give you the time of your life." You couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Might have to get some reviews. Lucky me, you already went through more than half of the cheerleaders."

"You say it like experience is a bad thing." Once you looked over, you saw the smug smirk once again. You slapped his shoulder lightly and sat back up. "I'm not saying it is, but I also don't enjoy leftovers." With a swift move, you stood back up. "I gotta go make a call."

Steve and Billy kept trying. You couldn't even count on both hands how many times both fought over you, with or without you near them. And their flirting got more intense every single day. So much that you talked about it during the daily calls you made.

"I mean, it's kinda funny but I'm just really annoyed at this point.", you told the other person on the phone. A low hum was followed by "Why don't you just tell them?"

"I don't want Billy to find another poor cheerleader to play with. Can't have more heartbreak on the team, it's gonna ruin our chance at regionals.", you explained. "Besides, wouldn't it be fun if you picked me up when we return and have them find out then?" There was a laugh from the other end of the line. "I like that idea. See you tomorrow."

You slept for the most part while taking the bus back. It made the smell of sweat more bearable if you were knocked out. Being in a secluded space with the basketball team was not something you enjoyed, but at least the ride only took 3 hours.

"You need a ride home?", Steve asked you while helping you carry your bag out of the bus. "I think I'm more equipped to give her a ride.", Billy chimed in. You took your bag from Steve's hand and turned to face the both of them. "My rides here already, thank you."

Just like that, you ran off to kiss Eddie Munson. "Hi baby.", your boyfriend said with a wide grin. "I missed you."

"Did she play us for three weeks?", Steve asked Billy with a confused look. Seriously, Munson? Out of all the boys at school?

"Sometimes, a man has to accept defeat." Billy gave Steve a clap on the shoulder, then threw his bag over his shoulder. "See you Monday."

[hrizantemy]

Day 4 of ACOTAR Games: This or That

Based on Frost and Starlight, Wings & Ember, and Silver Flames

Who deserves to be raked over hot coals for the way Nesta was treated?

Feyre: For abusing High Lady powers over Nesta, letting two men control her life, imprisoning her, neglecting her trauma

Cassian: Just *waving vaguely in his direction with a scowl* this

You may recruit your tribe in your crusade if it pleases you. Your contenders: @achaotichuman @litnerdwrites @fenrysmoonbeamswife @gwandas @positivelyruined @umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken

And, ones on penalty are @yaralulu @kataraavatara

Thank you for yesterday's response. I truly enjoyed your analysis, every flaw in the narrative with Feyre's authority was well-worded and laid out perfectly. I'm so glad you are playing this game, and hope to see more of these.

Oh, Feyre absolutely deserves to be dragged for how she treated Nesta. There are so many moments where her actions, or lack thereof, were infuriating. She abuses her position as High Lady to control Nesta’s life, lets Rhysand and Cassian dictate every decision about Nesta, and then has the audacity to act surprised when it blows up in her face. Imprisoning her in the House of Wind? Neglecting the very real trauma Nesta endured? Feyre’s choices are not only harmful but also hypocritical considering how the IC bends over backward to accommodate her trauma. And the worst part? So many fans act like Feyre is some self-sacrificing saint for putting up with Nesta instead of acknowledging the harm she caused.

That said—and it pains me to say this—I have to admit Feyre occasionally tries to tell the IC to back off. It’s always half-hearted, like she’s not really putting her foot down, but the fact that she even attempts it is more than we see from anyone else. She’s at least aware that the IC crosses the line when it comes to Nesta, even if her actions don’t align with what she says. And every time she does try, the IC blatantly ignores her. Rhysand undermines her authority as High Lady by controlling the situation anyway, and Cassian? He does whatever he wants, especially when it comes to Nesta, without any regard for Feyre’s input.

So yes, Feyre deserves plenty of blame, but the IC as a whole—and Cassian in particular—make her look almost reasonable by comparison. Feyre might be complicit, but the IC doesn’t even pretend to respect Nesta’s autonomy, Feyre’s authority, or the boundaries they supposedly care so much about enforcing when it comes to everyone else. Feyre is still maddening, but the IC’s behavior magnifies the harm and makes it nearly impossible to single out just one culprit.

But sadly, I’m gonna have to go with Cassian, because he wasn’t just complicit—he was an active participant in Nesta’s abuse. While Feyre’s actions, as infuriating as they are, sometimes come across as misguided attempts to help or poorly executed good intentions, Cassian’s behavior is blatantly cruel and harmful. He verbally berates Nesta at every opportunity, degrading her in front of others and reducing her pain to nothing more than an inconvenience or a sign of weakness. He mocks her, humiliates her, and goes out of his way to make her feel small under the guise of “tough love.” And that’s not even touching the physical violence—how anyone can excuse that, let alone romanticize it, is beyond me.

Cassian’s actions go deeper than surface-level insults. He actively enforces the IC’s controlling behavior over Nesta, standing by while she’s stripped of her autonomy and, at times, even leading the charge. He participates in her forced confinement, watches as she’s manipulated into situations she doesn’t consent to, and then has the audacity to claim it’s for her own good. The power imbalance between them makes it even worse. Cassian is physically and socially dominant in every way, and he uses that power not to lift Nesta up, but to tear her down—whether he admits it or not. It’s almost as if he revels in punishing her for her struggles, as though her pain inconveniences him personally.

Even when Nesta starts to heal, it feels like Cassian is more focused on claiming her as his mate than genuinely supporting her growth. His feelings for her are riddled with entitlement, as if she owes him her love, her vulnerability, and her gratitude, despite everything he’s done to contribute to her suffering. Instead of being her ally, he’s a reminder of every time the IC failed to protect her and chose to break her instead.

I think the Inner Circle would treat Nesta so much better if at least her mate—you know, the one person who’s supposed to love her unconditionally, stand by her side, and defend her when no one else will—actually did those things. The concept of the mating bond is supposedly sacred in this world, built on a foundation of deep, unwavering love and loyalty. Yet when it comes to Nesta and Cassian, it feels like that idea has been entirely flipped on its head. Instead of being her protector, her partner, or even a source of comfort, Cassian actively participates in tearing her down. And if the person who’s supposed to love her the most can’t even show her the bare minimum of kindness, what does that say to everyone else?

Imagine if Cassian had actually stood up for Nesta. If he had been the one to say, “No, this is wrong,” when the IC decided to imprison her in the House of Wind. If he had refused to degrade her in front of others, choosing instead to acknowledge her pain and advocate for her healing. The IC might still have their biases, but they’d think twice about crossing her if Cassian—their general, their friend, someone they respect—demanded they treat her with dignity. His love and support could’ve been a shield for her, forcing the others to see her as more than just a burden or a problem to fix.

Instead, Cassian’s behavior reinforces the IC’s treatment of her. When he humiliates her or snaps at her, it gives the rest of them permission to do the same. If her mate can’t find it in himself to defend her, why should anyone else? It creates this toxic cycle where Nesta is constantly treated as less-than, and the one person who should be her ally is too busy trying to “fix” her to actually stand by her.

It’s heartbreaking because the IC has proven time and time again that they rally behind their own—look at how they protect Feyre, even when she’s wrong. But for Nesta, there’s no such safety net, no unconditional support, and it starts with Cassian. If he had chosen to truly love her the way a mate is supposed to, to fight for her instead of against her, I genuinely believe the IC would’ve followed his lead. But instead, he failed her, and that failure gave everyone else permission to do the same.

And people can say, “Oh, but Cassian didn’t know Nesta was his mate,” as if that excuses anything—but the thing is, he’s stated multiple times that he thought she was his mate since their very first encounter, even if the bond hadn’t snapped yet. He knew. Maybe not with 100% certainty, but enough that it colored his actions toward her from the beginning. And what did he do with that knowledge? He used it as a justification to act entitled, cruel, and dismissive toward her rather than as a reason to treat her with the love and respect that a potential mate deserves.

If Cassian genuinely believed Nesta might be his mate, wouldn’t that mean he had an even greater responsibility to treat her kindly? To understand her struggles, to meet her where she was instead of constantly trying to drag her somewhere she wasn’t ready to go? The mating bond is supposed to represent a profound connection, one that transcends ordinary relationships—but with Cassian, it’s like he weaponized that connection instead. He didn’t see it as a call to protect and cherish her; he saw it as permission to treat her however he wanted, assuming that the bond would make her forgive him no matter what.

And this idea that “he didn’t know for sure” is just another excuse for bad behavior. Cassian thought Nesta was his mate, and he still chose to belittle her, and publicly humiliate her. He still stood by while the IC dictated her life, while she was imprisoned and stripped of her autonomy. The fact that he suspected she was his mate only makes his actions worse because it means he recognized that they were destined to be something profound—and he still treated her like she was disposable.

If anything, Cassian’s belief that Nesta might be his mate should have made him more careful, more patient, more compassionate. But instead, he used it as a justification for his entitlement to her time, her body, and her emotional labor. Whether the bond had snapped or not, the way he treated Nesta is inexcusable, and the idea that he knew or suspected she was his mate only highlights how deeply he failed her.

And people can claim that Cassian wasn’t abusive, but let’s not forget the Wings and Embers bonus chapter, which is a huge red flag when it comes to his treatment of Nesta. In that chapter, Cassian says “humans’ hatred for the fae is bullshit”—but didn’t the fae enslave humans? Let’s not erase that part of the history. His dismissive attitude toward human suffering is so telling, as if he can’t even acknowledge the ways in which his own oppressers have oppressed others. It speaks volumes about how little Cassian seems to care about the realities of trauma outside his own perspective.

But it gets worse. The entire chapter is basically Cassian obsessing over whether Nesta is a virgin. Instead of respecting her personal space or even considering how incredibly invasive his thoughts are, he’s fixated on her sexual history. Then, when he finds out she was sexually assaulted, his response is to pull at her skirts and demand to know what’s underneath. That’s not just inappropriate—that’s a form of assault in itself. The way he disregards her boundaries, her trauma, and her personhood is horrific. And let’s not ignore how this plays into his pattern of behavior: Cassian, time and again, shows a complete disregard for Nesta’s autonomy. His actions in that chapter are a perfect example of how he treats her like an object to be controlled, not a person deserving of respect and care.

It’s deeply troubling that people still defend Cassian, claiming that he’s not abusive, when these moments are right there on the page. Abuse doesn’t always look like physical violence—sometimes it’s in the way someone disregards your autonomy, pushes you into uncomfortable situations, or treats your trauma like it’s a game. Cassian’s behavior toward Nesta in Wings and Embers is textbook boundary-crossing, and his failure to consider her feelings, to stop when he sees how hurt she is, is exactly what makes his treatment of her abusive. How can we call it anything else when he assaults her, even if it’s not in the way that might fit some people’s narrow definition of abuse?

Cassian’s actions—dismissive, entitled, and controlling—are harmful, and they shouldn’t be glossed over because he’s “one of the good guys” or because people want to romanticize the bond between him and Nesta. The truth is that the way he treated her wasn’t just problematic, it was abusive. And anyone who tries to claim otherwise is ignoring what’s right there in the text.

That’s just touching the surface of Cassian’s abuse of Nesta—because the emotional abuse he subjected her to is far more insidious and damaging than most people want to admit. He didn’t just mistreat her through his actions, he emotionally tormented her, too. The line, “Everyone fucking hates you,” is a perfect example of how he weaponized words to tear her down. That’s not just frustration—it’s designed to make her feel worthless, to isolate her even further, to make her believe that she’s beyond redemption. It’s meant to get under her skin and make her doubt her worth, to erode any shred of self-esteem she might have left. And it does. It hurts.

Then there’s the line, “Your sisters love you and I don’t know why.” This isn’t a moment of frustration; it’s him attacking her, making her feel like she’s undeserving of love or compassion. He’s trying to undermine her relationship with Feyre and Elain, to convince her that she’s a burden on them, that they’re better off without her. It’s textbook emotional manipulation—putting doubt in her mind about the people she loves, making her feel like she’s unworthy of their affection and support. It’s no wonder Nesta retreats further into herself after this, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the people closest to her really do hate her, and she’s just too much of a burden to be loved.

But then, what does Cassian do? He immediately feels regretful, and we’re supposed to believe it’s a genuine realization of his mistake. But let’s take a step back and look at why he feels regret—because it’s not about the harm he caused Nesta, or the damage his words did to her. No, he feels bad because it didn’t work. The manipulation didn’t go as planned. She didn’t crumble as he expected, she didn’t beg for his approval—she stood there, hurt but standing, and Cassian, like most manipulators, quickly switches gears and tries to make things right. But here’s the thing: it’s not about her—it’s about him feeling bad for what he said because he doesn’t want to lose her or face the consequences of his actions. That’s emotional manipulation, plain and simple.

Cassian’s behavior is a classic example of emotional abuse: the cruel remarks meant to break her down, followed by an attempt to take it all back when he realizes that he’s pushed too far. It’s a cycle of trying to control her emotions, forcing her to second-guess herself, and then pulling her back in with half-hearted apologies when things get too real. It’s toxic and manipulative, and what makes it so dangerous is that it’s disguised as “tough love” or “getting through to her.” But in reality, it’s a calculated attempt to keep her dependent on his approval, to keep her in a state where she feels unworthy of love unless it comes from him. That’s the cycle of emotional abuse—and it’s something Cassian consistently inflicts on Nesta, over and over again.

That is not mate behavior—laughing at Nesta when she fell down the stairs? That’s cruelty, plain and simple. A mate is supposed to be the person who has your back, who’s there to pick you up when you fall, not someone who finds amusement in your pain or humiliation. Cassian’s laughter in that moment wasn’t just thoughtless; it was downright callous. He saw her in distress, vulnerable, and instead of offering help or even showing concern, he laughed. A mate would be worried about the person they love, not turning their suffering into a joke.

And don’t even get me started on the hike. That was not just reckless—it was dangerous. It could have killed Nesta, or worse, she could have hurt herself to the point where she couldn’t recover. A mate doesn’t put someone they supposedly love in a life-threatening situation like that. Cassian was fully aware of Nesta’s physical limitations, and yet he pushed her past what she could handle, making it seem like she was weak or incapable for not keeping up. He didn’t consider her well-being or safety; it was more about proving some kind of point to her, about pushing her harder, without regard for her mental or physical state. It was selfish and thoughtless.

A mate is supposed to be someone who lifts you up, supports you, and encourages you to be your best self. Cassian did the exact opposite—he belittled her, laughed at her suffering, and put her in a dangerous situation where she could have been seriously harmed. The idea that these actions came from someone who was supposed to be her mate is incredibly damaging to the narrative that mates are supposed to be a source of unconditional love and support. Instead, Cassian showed himself to be someone who used the mating bond as a justification for his own entitlement and need to control, rather than someone who was there for Nesta in a way that truly mattered.

And I know people will come for me, saying that mates are supposed to tell you when you’re wrong, to push you to be better, and all that “tough love” stuff. But let’s be real here for a second—if we’re holding up Cassian to that standard, then what do we do with Rhysand and Feyre? They’re considered the epitome of “peak mate behavior” by so many fans, yet they don’t even come close to consistently holding each other accountable in the way some people expect from mates.

Take Rhysand and Feyre for example. When has Rhys ever truly called out Feyre in a meaningful way, especially for something that could’ve helped her grow or confront her trauma? Instead, he’s more likely to swoop in and protect her, sometimes to the point of infantilizing her or making decisions for her without giving her the space to think for herself. Feyre, too—she’s far from perfect, but when it comes to holding Rhys accountable, there’s a clear lack of it in their dynamic. Their relationship is full of “unconditional support” without the accountability that is supposed to come with a healthy partnership.

Now, when it comes to Cassian and Nesta, we can’t ignore the double standard. Yes, mates are supposed to push each other, but that’s not the same as belittling someone, making them feel worthless, or laughing at their pain like Cassian did with Nesta. And sure, Cassian may have moments where he does try to hold Nesta accountable, but let’s look at how he does it—through harshness, through emotionally damaging behavior, like when he tells her, “everyone fucking hates you” or belittles her struggles. That’s not healthy. That’s not tough love—that’s manipulation.

So, yeah, people will say that mates should correct each other or challenge each other. But when we look at the supposed “ideal” mates, like Rhysand and Feyre, we see that this idea of “tough love” isn’t being practiced in the way some fans claim it should be. If we hold up that standard for Cassian, we have to hold the others to it, too. The truth is, the dynamic between Nesta and Cassian is far from healthy mate behavior, and it’s frustrating to see people gloss over that, while applying an entirely different set of expectations to the “perfect” mates like Rhysand and Feyre.

And at the end of the day, it feels like Nesta is always the one who’s in the wrong, doesn’t it? No matter what she does, no matter how much she suffers, the narrative always seems to circle back to her fault. She’s the one who’s “difficult” or “broken,” the one whose trauma is too much to bear, the one who’s expected to fix herself before anyone can give her the understanding and compassion she deserves. When others act cruelly or fail her, it’s dismissed or justified, but when Nesta reacts to the world and people around her in a way that is understandable, given her past, suddenly she’s the villain.

Feyre, despite all the words about being sisters, used her power to control Nesta, made decisions for her, and didn’t truly see her. But when it comes to Nesta’s reaction to that treatment, somehow she’s the one who’s wrong. When she’s angry or distant or tries to protect herself, it’s twisted into her being a “bad sister,” “ungrateful,” or “too much.”

And when it all boils down, the message is loud and clear: Nesta is the problem. The way she reacts to being mistreated is somehow worse than the mistreatment itself. The people who should love her and stand by her, the ones who should see her, just continue to push her further away and blame her for her emotional scars. Instead of understanding that her anger, her coldness, her withdrawal is a result of being failed by everyone around her, they put the responsibility on her to fix herself.

No one ever stops to consider that maybe, just maybe, Nesta’s actions are a direct response to the consistent neglect, manipulation, and disregard for her autonomy. It’s so easy for everyone to point fingers at her and say, “She’s the one in the wrong,” but no one truly looks at what they did to contribute to the situation. They’re too focused on blaming her for not magically overcoming years of trauma, isolation, and abuse. And that’s what’s so frustrating—the constant narrative that it’s her fault, when in reality, she’s the one who deserves empathy, support, and the chance to heal. But instead, she’s left holding the blame for everything that’s gone wrong, while everyone else gets a pass.

Thank you so much for your kind words! I’m really glad you enjoyed the analysis. It’s always a pleasure to dive deep into these narratives and explore the nuances that might get overlooked. Feyre’s authority, especially the way it’s handled in the story, is such an interesting angle to discuss, and I’m happy it resonated with you. I’m definitely looking forward to continuing these conversations and sharing more perspectives. Your feedback means a lot.

[justawastess]

[  alisha boe,  cisfemale,  she/her,  muse 15,  heiress / pinkpantheress  ] welcome  to  show  name,  JUNIA  NELL  LARSEN  —  or  should  i  say  the  magnet  ?  …  a  quick  google  search  tells  me  you’re  a  TWENTY  SIX  year  old  SINGER who’s worth 50M .  you've  called  avalon  home  for  TWO YEARS,  however  something  tells  me  there’s  more  to  you  than  a  flashy  resume  and  penthouse  23A  on  your  door  ?  it  seems  you’ve  managed  to  earn  a  reputation  around  the   city   for  being  CALCULATED,  yet,  upon  further  investigation  it  seems  you're  also  quite  WITTY.  but  hey,  thats  the  kind  of  mix  that  keeps  people  guessing.  i'm  sure  as  a  CANCER  you're  used  to  people  commenting  on  your  TELFAR BAG  /  SOFT VOICE DRIPS OFF OF THEIR TOUNGE LIKE HONEY. CLEVER AS THE DEVIL AND TWICE AS PRETTY.  HEAD THROWN BACK OUT THE WINDOW. but  still  we  can't  wait  to  watch  you  flourish  (  or  fail  )  these  next  few  weeks  …  [  zay,  28,  she/her,  est,  none  ]

Basic Information

full name: junia larson

age: twenty-six

dob: june 4

hometown : manhattan, new york

Pronouns: she/her

Orientation: pansexual

face clain: alisha boe

label : the magnet

Her grandmother said on her 10th birthday. “Oh Nia, you don’t have a bit of sense, but you’re so damn sweet it makes up for the…lack of brains.” Needless to say, her grandmother was ushered out before the cake was served.

Junia was quite the oddball in a family of successful scholars and stars. The Larsons are known to be respected socialites in New York City.. Her mother, Angel, is a successful actress, and her father is the heir to a diamond mining company he inherited from her late grandfather. And there's Junia who was….talentless. But for some reason, her airy cadence, and amiable presence attracted people like a moth to a flame. She blamed it on being rich because no reason existed for anyone to like her. Junia wasn’t a stereotypical rich girl: she was charming and witty. 

The whole thing that jump-started her questionable career was a walk of shame. Twenty years old. After a night of partying hard, she spent half an hour hungover looking for a shirt and just said ‘fuck it,’ walking out of an expensive condo in only a black miniskirt, a bra, and a pair of YSl boots that weren’t hers. She walked all the way home without knowing the paparazzi was around. 

Junia believes she became famous out of pure luck. There was no specific box anyone could put her in: she wasn’t a model, barely a socialite, and known for being the youngest Larsen's child. But, along the way, more opportunities started to arise: being a guest host, appearing on shows, and modeling for high-end magazines. People loved the hot and fun party girl.

The more her fame grew, the more people wanted to know about Junia. The biggest topic about her was her dating life because of Junia’s previous promiscuous nature. Dating a partner was never a problem for her, but keeping them was a struggle. The media turned it around and painted her as opportunistic since she was dating other celebrities.

Personaility

Junia is witty, and charming, and loves to engage in witty banter with others. She is also a fun-loving, spontaneous person who loves to try new things and explore the world around her. She's a confident individual who is comfortable in her own skin and isn't afraid to express her opinion—even if it's controversial. She’s a bit careless, never think things through. She has a hard time taking responsibility for her actions and often makes decisions without thinking. And often acts impulsively.

HEADCANCON, POSSIBLE WCS, AND MORE.

Take Me To Your Best Friend’s House- name.

A childhood friend or someone she met early in the industry, Junia loves dearly and cherishes like gold. . They grew up supporting each other. You will always see Junia praise them for their accomplishments.

With Friends Like These, Who Needs Enemies- name. in the media, they’re known to be close together because of a viral project for a magazine..What fans don’t know is they hate each other. But we always are set on projects together! ( I was thinking like music or something to do with modeling or something tv related) But they continue to work with each other because their fake chemistry works and makes them

Wow it's brutal out here

They were in short-lived relationship that got ugly really fast. They had a big blowout on social media and vowed to never talk to each other again. Well until now.

[nomoreusername]

Teresa Agnes Is Innocent?

This is strictly about the movies.

For one, people say she should have known that WCKD wouldn't not hurt anyone. While this may seem like common sense to most, we have to remember that Teresa grew up with them. I'm her memories, they do good. Because of their goal and the way they took her in when she had nobody, it’s reasonable for her to trust them and have a bias.

Next, in The Death Cure we find out they have trackers in their neck. That means that WCKD was bound to find them sooner or later. Her telling them only sped up that process. There was no actually getting out of it.

People say that she is the entire reason Newt became infected. This is a flat out lie. While they did go to the city because of Minho being captured she did not give him the Flare. There are two possible places he did. The first one is when their car got flipped over. In that scene Newt does end up holding his arm. This is from one of two things. Either he just hurt his arm in some way or a Crank bit/scratched him. The other possibility is the movies followed the books when it comes to the virus being airborne. Either way, Teresa did not plan on them coming to get Minho nor did she plan on this happening. She was looking for a cure that would have saved him. Some people say it was due to her long speech. However, that long of a speech could have actually saved him. When we see her giving the speech that is all she is doing. However, someone else turned on the lights, and light makes Cranks violent. That is most likely why Newt woke up and start attacking Thomas.

Now she did end up finding the cure. She could have saved everyone, but there was a war going on in the city which was already killing everyone. This was not something she could have predicted. If that hadn't been happening she very well could have saved the world.

Another huge factor to her not being able to is Janson. Janson has only self interest. He does not care about people who can't give him something he wants. That's why even when there was the cure he wanted it all instead of making more for any survivors of the war who were infected. When Teresa realized this she turned against them completely. She decided to save Thomas instead of something that she had dedicated almost her entire life to and had lost people over. She cared more about someone who hadn't tried to understand where she was coming from instead of what meant so much. She saved him and dragged him up through a burning building. Not only that, she apologizes for her actions and says she tried, showing that she blames herself despite so much of it being out of her control.

Her death was a suicide. That is what makes people who say they laughed when she died do more than get under my skin. They also say Newt would have been happy, but I disagree. Newt was selfless in a different way, and I truly believe he would be devastated to know she had committed suicide.

How do we know this is a suicide? Well, she has people reaching for. She has the choice, but she saved Thomas. Then, she doesn't see the point in going on. She feels so much guilt that she dies a horrific death of burns and falling to the concrete from a tall building. Not only would it be extremely painful, it wouldn't feel so quick even if it may have seemed that way. She would literally die in flames. She was not standing there because she was frozen in fear. She stood there because she thought she didn't deserve to live. The way she was able to stand after part of the building fell and get up with her head held high proves it. That is absolutely awful and unfair of her to believe and feel.

Lastly, she was a teenager. The estimated ages of everyone in the movies from what I’ve seen is sixteen to nineteen. No matter where she fell her frontal cortex was not fully developed which can cause more impulsive or irrational decisions. While it was clearly a very difficult but stern one and she stood by it, my point is that she had so long left. She could have learned so much about herself and grown even more, until she was someone that could be more healed and happier.

Teresa Agnes took her life as a teenager because she felt guilt for so many things out of her control.

Teresa Agnes is innocent.

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

Blanket and hug

A hug

Honestly I wrote like A LOT of hugs considering how un-touchy-feely the Isle kids are?? So, I'm sharing two, because I can't choose just one.

Ginny Gothel and Anthony Tremaine

„Ginny?“

She looks up at him, and abruptly stands up. Her world goes white again, and she tastes metal for just a heartbeat,

„Sunflower, what’s wrong?“

In another heartbeat, he’s hugging her tight, which is probably a good thing. For closely unspecified reasons.

She clings to his shoulders, tightly enough for her nails to hurt him even through all the layers he is wearing, and breathes in through clenched teeth. Then again. And again.

If she’d have to guess, she’d say that the world has returned to its miserable true colours by now, but, you see, checking would require her to lift her head from his shoulder.

Which would be a shame.

She breathes in again and loosens her grip on him.

„What’s wrong?“ he asks again, as if the answer wasn’t „Every-fucking-thing,“ or, alternatively, „Existence.“

Instead, she leans away a bit, his hands moving to her hips, and slowly answers: „I have such soft hair, Anthony–“

He smiles: „I know. I did your hair just this morning, remember?“

As if that was relevant just now.

She swats at his shoulder lightly – don’t interrupt me!

He presses his lips together in an exasperated expression, holding it only long enough for her to notice. Which is, of course, why she pretends she didn’t see.

„As I was saying,“ she starts again, „I have such soft hair,“ („Thanks to me.“), „And no one is playing with it!“

„Oh?“ he flashes a half-smirk at her and runs his fingers along her scalp, „That better, then?“

„Much.“

Harry and CJ Hook

On completely unrelated note, Remedial Goodness fucking SUCKS.

FG likes to pretend the world is black and white, good and evil, light and dark: CJ prefers to think of it as a place of countless shades of gray, swaying back and forth like wild waves on stormy sea, preferably illuminated by hellish crimson flames.

You know, red. Like her cloak.

Anyway.

Speaking of red.

There is another rather tall and rather familiar figure clad in red in between the trees and it’s rapidly getting closer.

„Harry!“ she shouts at the top of her lungs, „Harry is here! Do you see him, Freddie?“

She frantically looks at the Shadow witch to confirm she isn’t hallucinating.

(In her defence, it wouldn’t be the first party that had laced brownies. Well, it would be the first Auradon party, probably. These kids have no idea how to have fun.)

(...Ok, CJ’s taking that back. She definitely saw Chloe Trouillefou and Hailey of DunBroch high at least one time. They had pupils of the size of platters. On the other hand, FG was giving a two hour long course on internet safety, so CJ can’t blame them.)

„Yes. Harry. I see him,“ sights Freddie. Wonderful!

„Also Uma, Gil and Jane. I thought she fell asleep with everyone else.“

Freddie also grumbles something about where her sister, who was supposed to arrive from the Isle today with Dizzy Tremaine and the Smee twins, is, and that she has no idea how the pirates got here and yada yada yada, CJ’s already running to greet her brother.

She hasn’t seen him in ages!

Like, forever!

Not that she missed him. Or Harriet. Absolutely not.

She definitely doesn’t almost crush his ribs when he hugs him, perish that thought! Pirates do not miss anybody!

She squeals when he picks her up and twirls her around in the air.

When he puts her down, she pretends to straighten her skirt and puffs her cheeks, to show how annoyed she is at that treatment.

„You ungrateful little scallywag-“ whispers Harry without any real bite and she grins at him, before turning around and greeting everyone else:

„Hi Jane! Happy birthday! I saved you some, uhm,“ she looks around to check what foods are left, „…Cake pops? And the pumpkin muffins! You like those, right?“

CJ brightens up and waves at Gil: „Gil! You should absolutely try the cake pops! They’re awesome and fresh and sweet! And not poisoned!“

She hopes.

Gil gets a go-ahead from his Captain and CJ finally faces the Sea witch:

„Hi, Uma! Are you and Harry married yet?“

„CJ. There is more important stuff going on right now!“

„…So? Are you?“

A Blanket (share a scene where a character feels safe and loved)

Probably this whole story:

Does CJ feel safe here? Yes. And she will be a bitch about it.

Also, like, every single scene of CJ interacting with her siblings.

[blackjackkent]

OK. So I think Rakha's finished with everything in the mountain pass area, having shattered Lae'zel's faith, obliterated a priceless piece of Lathandran architecture, made an enemy of the entire gith race, inadvertently set Gale on a suicide mission, and adopted an owlbear.

The really funny thing is that almost none of this chaos can be blamed particularly on her murder urge brain. (Except the monastery I guess.)

The overall plan is to head for the Underdark next but we do have some things to clean up in the initial map first - particularly killing the Paladins of Tyr for Karlach. This has been high on Rakha's to-do list right from the moment she heard about it, because Karlach said, "hey, want to kill some people for me?" and Rakha was like "Boy, do I!" (Except she's Rakha so she just said "Yes" in a grumbly sort of way.)

So we'll do that first!

Karlach and Lae'zel have a banter as we make our way up the hill covered in dead gnolls, towards the building that the Paladins are using for their headquarters:

This banter definitely carries a different ring when they're traveling with Rakha. Both of them are definitely commenting on this while side-eyeing Rakha and trying to gauge if she's about to go off the deep end because of the blood smell.

She isn't, but she definitely does smell it and it's definitely got the beast urge in her head keyed up. For the moment, though, she's satisfied with the anticipation of killing these people who have been chasing Karlach.

I seem to recall that with Hector, I did a weird sneaky thing coming in from a top floor window of this building. Rakha, however, stalks right in through the front door like she owns the place. Immediately, they're greeted by a man in chainmail bearing a greatsword and a haggard expression:

"Please - no more!" he cries, his eyes widening dramatically as he looks past Rakha to Karlach standing behind her. "Leave us in peace and we shall leave you in kind!"

Karlach rolls her eyes. "Cut the crap, Anders," she snaps disdainfully. "I know what you are."

The man swallows nervously. "Don't let her hurt us. Please - we just want to go home!"

Rakha is already halfway to bursting out in violence and was before she came in the door. It's only Wyll's presence at her elbow that makes her take even a moment to consider the possibility of these people's innocence.

[INSIGHT] Assess his posture, his eyes. Is he telling the truth?

Narrator: There's something in the squint of his eye. You suspect he's lying.

"Enough of this charade," she says flatly. With a smooth motion she pulls both quarterstaves from her back. "I know who you really are."

The man flinches, his eyes narrowing. Then he smirks disdainfully. "Enough. Enough - I'll not play pretend anymore. Karlach... you're going home in pieces if needs must. And you--" He flicks his eyes to Rakha, looking her over, then spits on the ground at her feet. "You'll soon learn what it means to ally yourself with the likes of this garbage."

Rakha's jaw sets and the beast flares eagerly in her head. Kill. Make him pay. He would tear us apart. Show him pain. Show him death.

And it is not just the beast, either. As when Mizora invaded their camp - this is her own anger as well, roused on Karlach's behalf. Karlach is one of them, one of the only people Rakha has reason to know or trust. This man threatens her. And Rakha, not just the beast urge within her, wants him dead.

She feels the temperature around her spike up a few degrees. Karlach has stepped forward next to her, and the low hum of her engine heart has escalated to an unsettling, angry whir. Her eyes are narrowed in a mixture of rage and fear that Rakha has never seen in her expression before.

"Avernus was never my home," she snarls. "It was my prison. I'm free now."

Anders takes a step back and his cocky confidence flickers; a burst of flame surges up around Karlach's entire body as she screams into his face. "AND I'M NEVER GOING BACK!"

[libertyreads]

January 2024 TBR--

My reading plans for the month have got me so hyped to read. ...which probably isn't the best thing when your goal for the year is to read fewer books. But I cannot contain my excitement. I have two rereads planned (technically) and I'm trying out something new from Terry Pratchett. I've read Men at Arms and nothing else from him so I'm excited to see how I feel about another Discworld novel. Overall, it should be a good reading month--very heavy on SFF.

Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros-- This is a reread for me in preparation to read the next book. I wasn't ever going to be able to read Iron Flame when it first came out between work and other books sitting at the front of my TBR so I decided to reread Fourth Wing and then read Iron Flame at the beginning of the year. In this one we follow a girl who is forced to join the Dragon Rider Quadrant at the war college by her mother. We follow her as she deals with chronic illness, students who are out to get her, and attempting to bond with a dragon. I gave this 5 stars originally because it's the kind of book that had me kicking my legs up in the air and twirling my hair around a finger while reading. Looking forward to this one.

The Last Watch by J.S. Dewes-- I split my blame for this one on Thoughts on Tomes from YouTube and the insane longing I've had to reread The Expanse. Sam said that this is the book to read if you're a fan of Sci-Fi and mentioned The Expanse in relation to this one. So, here we are. The edge of the universe is collapsing and taking everyone and everything with it. The only ones who can stop it are the Sentinels--the recruits, exiles, and court-martialed dregs of the military. Adequin Rake commands the Argus--she has no resources, no comms, nothing except for soldiers no one wanted. Her ace in the hole could be Cavalon Mercer--genius, asshole, and exiled prince who nuked his grandfather's genetic facility for "reasons." She knows they're humanity's last chance.

Going Postal by Terry Prachett-- I can think of no better way to explain this one than to quote the synopsis: "Moist von Lipwig was a con artist and a fraud and a man faced with a life choice: be hanged, or put Ankh-Morpork's ailing postal service back on its feet. It was a tough decision." Apparently this con artists must work through rain hail, sleet, dogs to see the mail get delivered. I love con artists and I love morally grey characters. I'm excited to see what Prachett does with one of them.

The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin-- This one is technically a reread for me since I originally read it in 5th grade. This is one of the books that I tend to point to when someone asks me what got me into reading. Sixteen unlikely people gather for the reading of Samuel W. Westing's will. They're shocked when they learn that the eccentric, game-loving millionaire has chosen a virtual stranger--and a possible murderer--to inherit his vast fortune. Sam Westing may be dead, but that won't stop him from playing one last game. And now I suddenly understand why I like the books I like. Whoa.

The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett (NetGalley)-- This one was pitched as a Holmes-and-Watson style pairing with a fantastical world and a murder to solve which instantly had me interested. When a high Imperial officer dies via a tree spontaneously erupting from his body in Daretana's most opulent mansion, Ana Dolabra is on the case with her new assistant Dinios Kol. We also have mentions of Ana's eccentricities and Dinios's desire to hide his own secrets. Say less. I'm here for it.

My plan for the year is to have a TBR between 4 and 6 books long which gives me a tiny bit of wiggle room to add a couple of books to mood read during the month without killing my reading goal for the year. I hope.

[intcrmezzo]

"Dani," she said calmly, somehow everything pouring out between them calmed her, "you have to stop telling me what I think and feel. You're projecting, and I can't blame you for that, it's a natural thing to do when we're upset and feeling guilty, but—" Tanner let out a heavy breath slowly. This was all a lot. Maybe at the start of this and in the heat of initial emotions her vision was a little too blurred and clouded to see that. As things began to settle, the weight of truth began to rest on her shoulders. She did her best to actively listen and her gaze followed each of her ex's pacing steps, a mirror of what she'd just done. By the time they left this alley there was bound to be a worn path. "I don't think you're a piece of shit or some evil person. I don't even hate you," Tanner knew she sounded somewhere in the ballpark of apathy, it was only her modulating her tone and trying to keep this conversation from turning explosive. "Don't claim to know what I think about you. It's never as simple as you might think, I mean—you did just explain that." For the first time a slight smile flashed at the corner of her mouth.

It seemed to be a time for hard truths. Aside from how much it hurt an already broken and severely wounded heart, Tanner didn't just need to hear these things—she'd wanted it. Hell, she'd craved these answers for the entirety of Daniela's exit of Woodside. Since she'd given her ex the floor, so to speak, stood by and listened to all she had to say without interruption, Tanner began going back in her head through the points made so that she could offer up a response. "I appreciate the apology, and I don't mean to belittle it or your feelings, thats all the hurt in me coming out. I'd apologize for it but—right now—I can't. I'm not sure I ever will be able to, and I have a feeling you understand that. If only for the reason that no one should have to apologize for how they feel, just maybe the delivery of it." There was a pause as she chewed on the left side of her top lip gently, eyes fixed on her ex for a moment as she tried to read the hell in her eyes. Clearly she wasn't the only one harshly affected by what Dani had done. "I apologize for the way I came at you."

As the thoughts in her head stirred around their demise, before and/or without Dani's emotional step out, Tanner pushed her hands into her pockets. Her eyes moved off her ex and looked down the alley way to the street. It was quiet. Not many cars or people moving past, and Tanner fully began to feel just how much things had slowed once the information and answers had started coming out. That fire in her had turned down, instead of high and wild flames that could reach out and lick someone with a nasty burn, it was just burning coals keeping the room warm. "The pressure was a lot," she agreed. They'd each handled it so differently. With the complications their families had added to what was simple between them, her ex had apparently needed more closeness and stronger union, whereas Tanner decided to ease the pressure by slowing down a little and giving them some breathing room. Things crack and break when too much pressure is applied, and perhaps she'd been too practical in her thinking on that. "If only we had communicated. I had no idea you were feeling that and needing something more. I was trying—I don't know, I suppose I subconsciously figured if we eased up a little the pressure would stop." It was all too late now, and for that Tanner shrugged. Neither one of them had been so serious and dedicated in a relationship before, so they were bound to have faults and make mistakes. But — "when did we stop talking?"

In this perspective it resounded within Tanner that Daniela had found herself being charmed by someone else because they were giving her something that she had needed and Tanner had failed to deliver. It was a sickening feeling in her gut. All this time she'd been so angry at her ex and had spent so much time wallowing in her own pain that she never once considered her own shortcomings had contributed to their demise. It was selfish. "You're not a terrible person for falling into something you needed. You should've told me but I'm not innocent in this. Despite the pressure and whatever distance had opened up between us, I still loved you. Love you," she amended, "but the second you started talking to someone else in that way and they were making you feel things that you knew in your gut were wrong you should've told me. You don't think I was terrified, too? Why do you think I'm so hurt, Dani?" Maybe she could understand chasing the butterflies rather than facing down the ugly monsters of fear. She now knew what it was like to have budding emotions for someone new. Tanner also knew she needed to heal before she could really open up to anything, a large part of that had to do with the woman she was standing in the alley with. "I don't think really anything is as easy as it seems. It just feels that way."

It was easy for them each to make claims on what they wanted for/from each other, and as Dani had uttered the words Tanner's head had shook. "Pain changes people. It's a part of life, we constantly get broken down and rebuild—it's evolution. The thing is—how have we each grown from this?" Only time would tell, Tanner wasn't expecting an answer. "It's not what I want," Tanner's head shook, "none of this is, to be honest." Another slight smile ghosted, she wasn't meaning to continue badgering that. "I was speaking out of anger and hurt, and I can't promise that shit won't happen again—I'll try to be more civil. You might need to try and not piss me the fuck off," there was a derision in her tone, "it's not easy for me seeing you back here and going about your life. Seeing you move on is going to be a huge challenge, my Everest, but know I'm trying."

The pacing back and forth would have been more annoying if she wasn't already in hot water, but Daniela was sure that had the tables been turned, she'd be in the same position as Tanner, trying to grasp onto something as she realized that some sort of confession was being thrown out at her. She hadn't even planned any of this, but now that she was back in town and couldn't avoid Tanner forever, it was best to just say what she needed to say now. And getting it all off of her chest offered her a slight bit of relief, at least until her ex wasted no time shooting it all down. Now it was her turn to feel deflated. Maybe she should have rehearsed this a little better, yet there was nothing she could really say to change Tanner's perception of how things played out. But in true Dani fashion, she wasn't going to fold like a damn pretzel. "It's not pathetic to be honest about how much I hurt you, and because I know you, you didn't even have to admit it. It's pretty damn obvious that I broke you, and I genuinely am sorry for that."

None of this was easy, but having to look at the face of the only woman she'd ever loved and talk about a future she'd completely blown apart was even more torture than she'd anticipated having to come back and face now that she was home. But running away from her problems hadn't helped before, so she had no choice but to deal with the consequences like an adult. "I know what you think about me, but I'm not apologizing or coming clean to make myself feel better, Tanner. I'm saying it because you deserve that at the very least, even if you don't want to hear or if it means absolutely nothing now." She paused, briefly unsure of whether she should respond to every other claim, and ultimately deciding that it was best to just wrap this all up now. "It was never about not wanting that life with you. I did want that, I was just — I don't know, terrified? Neither one of us had ever been that invested in a relationship before, and things progressed quickly with us from the jump but the pressure to get married and have kids was overwhelming. Once we both started spending more time at work and not putting as much effort into making time for us, it just felt too complicated." Dani admitted, and now she was the one starting to pace back and forth along the alley.

"I never planned to get that close to someone else. I didn't ask for it, and I didn't intentionally go into that friendship expecting for it to turn out how it did. As cliche as it sounds, it just happened. And I chose them because it was easy — but I didn't love them. I love you. And deep down, even with what I did and how I lied to you, you know that what we had was real. I fucked up. I can own that, and I can accept that I'm a terrible fucking person for breaking your heart, but it wasn't as easy as you think it was to just give us up." Stopping dead in her tracks now, Dani exhaled a deep breath as she spun around to face her ex again.

"You shouldn't let what I did change who you are as a person. Not everyone is a piece of shit like I am, you know?" She pointed out as she ran a hand through her hair. "I'll stay away from all of our usual places, if that's really what you want. I didn't come home to make things any worse for you, so I'll stay out of your way. But if I do this, ill you try to work through this new version and go back to being the old Tanner? Not for my sake, obviously, but for everyone else's. This new version of you is kind of scary."

[sluttyskullowner]

" 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒.. " yandere! mike wheeler x afab! listener

genre: angst? i'm not exactly sure. yandere i suppose. tw: yandere tendencies, manipulation, both gaslighting and gatekeeping, kidnapping, murder, bit of gore, obsession, etc.. word count + characters count: 969 words, 5,106 characters

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mike let out an almost breathless sigh, the sight of blood on the floor against caused almost a spike of cold blood rushing through his body, he wouldn't exactly say it felt good to kill, more like a relief, an way to get rid of a problem, a solution. mike washed the blood from his hands in a nearby bathroom sink, he had killed lucas. you see, lucas had been getting very close to (y/n), and our mike couldn't let lucas steal his precious flame away from him, therefore this felt rashionale. the blood stained the water in the sink, his eyes couldn't help but be mesmerized by the sight, the blood slowly retreating from his fingertips and instead stain the cold liquid. his mind began to wander more and more by the minute before he realized something, he thought out loud; "I can't hurt someone again.. I need to take her so I don't harm a soul.." His voice was a whisper, maybe even a tremble but there was no sorrow or guilt, just excitement, gross twisted excitement to have his darling (y/n) back in his grip once more. now, let me explain (y/n) and mike's relationship, mike was almost a stranger to (y/n), of course she knew who the hell he was, mike wheeler, ex-boyfriend of el and the reason for her and jane to become friends, jane was crying in the girl's bathroom one day, (y/n) had comforted jane as jane sobbed about a breakup that she had with mike, (y/n) even still remembers which day it was, May 27th. jane was sent home due to high stress levels and almost passing out from a panic attack so rumors spread like wildfire, though (y/n) came to the rescue and explained the situation, not blaming mike wheeler either for anything that happened, which is how the two met-- for mike it was an almost fall in love at first sight situation. back to mike, he was now walking over to the (l/n) residence, before he steadily climbed up (y/n)'s house's pipe drain and he peeked into (y/n)'s bedroom, seeing the beauty asleep he opened the bedroom window with ease and carefully stepped inside, his right leg first inside before his left leg. he looked at (y/n), smiling before creeping towards her. (y/n)'s eyes fluttered open before a gasp erupted from her mouth, before (y/n) could scream though-- mike placed a hand over (y/n)'s mouth and a knife to her throat. "shh,, shh.. flame.. if you want to live, you're going to have to listen to my every word, alright?" mike said soothingly, (y/n) could only nod, fear in her eyes as all she wanted to do was scream but she wished to not have her own blood be spilled.

mike made his way to a rusty old shed in the deep forest, maybe about 65 miles away from town before mike opened said shed door and threw (y/n) inside, closing and managing to lock the old chain behind him, this looked like the type of place that young teens would get murdered in a cheesy horror movie. (y/n)'s back eventually pressed against a wall, trying to crawl away backwards from mike with each step he took closer to her, her afraid showing nothing but fear as tears threatened to fall from her (e/c) eyes. "why are you doing this to me!?" (y/n) eventually screamed, mike kneeling down in front of her with a sly grin. "because.. unless i have you all to myself, people are going to get hurt.. you don't want people getting hurt, do you (y/n)?" mike questioned, raising an eyebrow at the anxious girl before him. "of course not!" (y/n) yelled, tears tainting her soft skin before mike gently wiped them away with his thumb. "then you are staying here with me.. don't worry.. you'll grow to love me over time, just like how I love you.." mike said soothingly. "this isn't love!" (y/n) yelled, earning an almost death glare from mike. "yes, it is-- i'm protecting you, (y/n). if you leave, you're putting yourself and others in danger.. this is the only way i can keep you safe." he said, brushing a strain of hair behind (y/n)'s ear with a smile. "i have a crimson ache, (y/n)-- if i see red on your cheeks around other people, the only other red those people will have is their blood all over me and on the ground and they beg and whimper for help, to be saved. except i'm already saving them." mike said with a sigh. "i'm saving them from you. you're like a siren y'know, your beauty taints with the mind of the naive and you lure people into your grasp.. so i have to save them.. and you.." mike tries to explain before planting a kiss onto (y/n)'s lips, her lips were cold due to the tears that erupted from her eyes like rain from a cloud. mike slowly pulls away before reaching next to (y/n), grabbing a chain before placing two onto (y/n)'s hands and feet with a smile. "do you understand? i'm doing this because i love you.. say you love me back please, my flame.." mike said softly, placing his warm gentle almost boney hand onto (y/n)'s right cheek, (y/n)'s lips were agape for a moment before she muttered a weak; "i love you, mike..". this made mike smile before humming with a blush on his cheeks. "i have to go.. but i'll be back within an hour.. don't go anywhere~" he said with a chuckle before opening the shed door, locking it behind him with a smirk.

[writingmuses]

A Court of Loss and Grieving Chapter 2

Masterlist

Sorry, this is a repost because my original post disappeared for some reason!

Warnings: Vague allusions to sexual abuse.

Length: 1.4 K

All characters belong to SJM.

This fic will be a slow starter and I'm not 100% which direction it will go just yet. Hopefully, everyone is okay coming along for the ride!

Against cannon, Amarantha can access a small amount of the High Lords Powers.

Chapter 2:

“Well Spell-Cleaver,” Amarantha mocked, “let us hope you do not disappoint me like your predecessor”. 

Helion stood at the entrance to Amarantha’s chambers, a lavish room draped in deep reds and blacks.  At the far wall sat a grand basalt fireplace. Faces had been carved into the stone, eyes wide and mouths hanging open in eternal screaming. As if they were to burn forever. The faces were illuminated by a fire roaring so big and bright, that the High Lord of Day was sweltering. In the centre of the room lay a large four-post bed, flames reflected off of the blood-red satin. Dark furs littered the floor. 

This was the first time Helion has stepped foot in these rooms, and he prayed to the cauldron it would be his last. He was confident that Amarantha had not brought him here to be killed, for he knew that that would not be done hidden away in her chambers. No, had she wanted him dead Helion would be strung up in front of her throne by now, bare and bleeding as she mentally and physically brutalised him in front of his friends, family and court members.  Helion had seen it happen over and over again these last five years.  But, as far as he knew, only one male was forced to spend any time in Amarantha’s personal chambers. Rhysand. The High Lord of the Night court was hand-picked to be Amarantha's plaything. Over time, however, Rhysand had been made the Queen’s right hand - provided with more privilege and power than the other high lords.  Rhysand was noticeably absent in the chambers, likely left to hold order and terrorize in her absence. 

Amarantha stood with her back to Helion, a burgundy silk robe held close against her pale skin and as she gazed into the fire.

 “How can I be of service?” Helion kept his face calm, a slight aloofness in the tilt of his head. He played a role,  just like everyone trapped here under the mountain. His mask of choice was one of detachment and curiosity. One that had thus far protected himself and those he loved. 

“I have a project for you, Helion.” Amarantha turned from the fireplace. Helion noted that her skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. He would have blamed it on the roaring fire had he not also noticed the dark purple bags under her eyes. This was the first time in the five years he had been trapped under the mountain that Amarantha had displayed anything other than cold fury and wicked perfection. She looked exhausted. True curiosity now shone in Helion’s eyes - curiosity and perhaps hope for this was the first time Amarantha had displayed any weakness. “I have a spell I need broken.” 

“What type of spell might that be my Queen?” Helion quipped. 

“And why should I do your job for you, Lord of Day?" Amarantha's voice was strained and flat. "Perhaps I wish to determine if you truly live up to the name Spell-Cleaver.” 

Helion knew he was pushing it when he continued. “I will not be as effective without the full extent of my powers.” Amarantha let out a dry, humourless laugh. Helion cleared his throat, eyes downcast feigning an apology. 

“You will make do with what little you have Lord of Day, lest I decide to take it all, or to take your life, perhaps? Maybe the next in line for your title  will be more helpful.” Amarantha turned back towards the flames, fingers brushing softly against the faces on the mantle. Her fingers stilled when they came to rest over the eyes of a female face carved into the dark stone, hesitating. “What will it be Spell-Cleaver? Will you assist your High Queen? Or will you die?”. 

"I will do what I must”. 

“Then be gone. You shall begin tomorrow. My guards will bring everything you need to your chambers.”  Helion swallowed and nodded. Amarantha did not turn around again as Helion backed towards the door. As his hand grasped the handle, Amarantha’s voice rang once more through the sweltering chambers, ���Remember Spell-Cleaver, should a word of this find its way through my court, I will kill every member of Day that resides here under the mountain. One by one they will meet a slow and brutal end and you will watch them fall. Do not disappoint me Helion, for it will be the last thing you do.” 

_____________________________________________________

As Helion moved down the corridor, his ears started to ring. His entire court was now under Amarantha’s scrutiny. Everyone is in jeopardy should he fail to beat whatever horrid spell Amarantha needed broken. How was he to succeed when he had so little power remaining, when he didn’t know a damn thing about what she wanted from him? His mind spun with the potential consequences of failure. A few more steps down the corridor had him swaying, tumbling into the mountain wall. Grasping the cold stone with both hands, Helion brought his forehead to meet the cool stone to tame the sweltering heat that seemed to follow him out of Amarantha’s chambers. 

Helion’s head continued to spiral. He had only been High Lord of Day for five years, each one spent under the blasted Mountain. Though he was older than some of the older High Lords, he was new to the role. Having acted as second to the previous High Lord had only prepared him so much. With his eyes screwed shut he gulped down the stale air in shaky breaths. His people had lost so much, he would, no must do what is necessary to ensure  their protection. He refused to bare witness to more Day Court losses. 

“Is that wall particularly interesting?” a velvet voice rang through the empty corridor. “Or have you finally lost your mind?”

Helion spun around and came eye to eye with the High Lord of the Night Court. Rhysand looked immaculate as always but Helion could see the cracks below, or at least he thought he could. Helion and Rhysand had been on familiar and pleasant terms prior to Amarantha’s arrival in Prythian. Helion had even spent the occasional night many years ago with Rhysand’s cousin Morrigan. Helion had been given the true gift of being able to see the softer side of the Lord of Night,  the softer side which had all but vanished the moment they had all sipped their wine that fateful day five years ago. What stood before him was an illusion, or so Helion hoped. This hard exterior, this Nightmare personified was a disguise and one that worked well to shield others from his true misery and despair. In the five years under the mountain, Rhysand had taken on the role of the right hand to the High Queen. Amarantha’s whore the courts called him. Her tool for destruction and for pleasure. Helion could not stomach to think of what Rhysand had to inflict and endure. 

Helion shook his head clear of past thoughts. “The beauty contained within this mountain continues to amaze me” Helion mused, his own mask slipping back into place. Rhysand will do what he must to protect his court, and Helion would do the same. Amber eyes met muted lavender, as High Lord eyed High Lord. 

“Run along before someone finds you snooping so close to our Lady’s chambers.” Rhysand’s eyes flashed with a warning as he made to continue down the corridor, “They may not be as forgiving.”

“You are not the only one at the beck and call of Amarantha, Rhysand.” Helion's words were low, dripping with despair. Rhysand froze momentarily, shoulds raised slightly and once again Helion thought he saw the cracks in his mask.

“Then you had better do what she has asked of you.” Helion thought he saw sorrow flash in his eyes before the mask was rebuilt, “Amarantha does not like to be kept waiting”. 

With that final remark, Rhysand continued on towards Amarantha’s chambers. What would have appeared as an impersonal meeting between two High Lords of the Solar Courts, had imbued Helion with strength that he had forgotten he possessed. If Rhysand could wear a mask, and present a facade to keep his family and court safe, then so could he. Helion allowed a stony look to grace his features. He would complete Amarantha’s task. He would do what he had to, to protect the ones he loves.

[y-the-youthful]

BY DO IT NOW

Who starts the most fights?

Oh B by far. Yoriko is more of a 'go with the flow' sort of person but B finds something to latch onto and he will never let it go.

2. Who surrenders at the end of most fights?

I would not really call it surrendering more like running out of steam. Either B runs himself into a high enough tissy that he crashes, or they sit down and talk about it. It's a surprisingly calm negotiation. (To everyone outside the relationship.)

3. Who is more likely to cry during a fight?

There might be crocodile tears on B's part but honestly I would say neither.

4. Who is more likely to storm out during a fight?

B almost every time. Yoriko would not necessarily call their actions storming out more like walking away to give each other space to cool down (B would call it storming away).

5. Who is louder in fights?

Once again, B every time. Yoriko does their best to keep the same level tone.

6. Who is more likely to bring up past mistakes?

B again. I would say he is trying to find something that will tug on Yoriko enough to get an extreme reaction, but Yoriko is just as aware of the fact that he is doing this and opts to not react (at least in that time, perhaps another time she will ask what he meant by it).

7. Who is more likely to blame the other?

...Y'know I'm starting to think B is really toxic. Just a feeling. But once again it is B. I feel like Yoriko's responses are as equally frustrating as they are calming in arguments.

8. Who is more likely to blame themselves?

Kind of sad to say B again. Yoriko is at least aware of the fact that they have conflicting natures and that neither are fully responsible for what happens in the relationship but that they are equal in needing to deal with these issues. B is fully aware of the fact that he has issues and at the worst of times you can almost hear all of the adults in his life berating him in his head as he blames himself.

9. Who gets more jealous more easily?

100% B. Yoriko is surprisingly tame in this, but one would have to be considering B's regular relationship with others, especially A. If she was the easily jealous sort then it would have collapsed a long time ago. B, on the other hands, things polygamy only applies on his side and gets stressed if Yoriko even talks to another, especially A. There is a distinct impression that it might be because he dreads being left behind. (That's not to say Yoriko does not get jealous, but like all things she keeps it quiet.)

10. Who gets angered more easily?

Does this even need to be said? Between the two of them, B is more like a wildfire that bursts out into sharp intense flames that are impossible to ignore, destroyed everything in its path. Yoriko keeps their anger hidden, and impossible to notice. Yoriko is the creeping horror of having left the gas on as you go to sleep.

11. Who is more likely to throw things?

This is a hard one, I can see B being pushed to that degree, but I feel he would be annoyed with himself for opting to that. Yoriko, in rare episodes, would throw something like a sock to express frustration but she keeps it so close to herself that even that would be a real push.

12. Who is more likely to give the silent treatments?

Yoriko and every time it makes B angrier. Nothing he loaths more than silence, after all.

13. Who is more likely to break off the relationship?

This one is a bit more complicated and would depend on circumstances but I see it in that B might pretend to break it off but keep a close eye. He is the sort of ex-lover that cannot let go. If Yoriko were to break it off, it would be after months of emotionally distancing. In her head, the relationship was broken off long before the actual relationship and by the time she tells you, it's far too late. Perhaps there is a reason B is hyperaware of her emotions to the point of obsessive...

14. Who is more likely to threaten to leave?

On this one I feel neither? B is incapable of removing himself from those that provide the intensity of emotions he so seldom gets, and Yoriko rarely threatens something unless she means it, and knows that to threaten it at all would burst into a very fierce response.

15. Who is more likely to actually leave?

Yoriko. It would come in the form of the written above, but out of the two of them she is the most likely to decide that she has been pushed too far and to leave (and she better move out fast because lord have mercy if B got a hint of it).

16. Who is more likely to forget the other first?

Such a thing could never happen in this household, everyone is too tightly fused together. Yoriko might consider a new relationship but there would be that constant awareness of them being in danger because B is all that he is, and B might be in a new relationship but he is incapable of letting anything go so she would never be really forgotten and he would only need to catch her once.

[hiddentrails7]

I just finished p5r for the 7th time, here we go

Sojiro: Have you guys seen Ryuji and Futaba? They haven't finished their cocoa

Ren: No, haven’t seen them since the storm started

Sojiro: Since the sto- RYUJI NO!

Ryuji, standing in the middle of a thunderstorm with an shovel raised high: STRIKE ME DOWN ZEUS, YOU DON’T HAVE THE BALLS

Ren, completely serious: Sir, it has been reported lately that you do, in fact, have little paw-paws and a little button nose. Do you care to comment?

Morgana:

Ren: Riveting

Sojiro, walking in: Am I interrupting something?

Haru: I would die for you.

Makoto: I would die for you too.

Haru, suddenly very emotional: Please don’t

Futaba, in a high voice, holding Barbie: Hey Ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career!

Ren, in a deep voice, holding Ken: Nonsense, Barbie. you’re staying home and having my kids

Sojiro: What the fuck are you guys doing?

Futaba: Playing systemic oppression

Ren: The next time Goro's angry with me, I'll drape him in a cape and say "now you're super angry"

Ren: Maybe he'll laugh, maybe I’ll die.

Ryuji: Why are you so pissed off all the time?

Akechi: *Polls out a scroll*

Akechi: Reason number one out of two thousand four hundred and—

Ryuji: Okay, okay! I get it, there’s a lot.

Akechi: *Smirks before proceeding to roll the scroll up and put it back in his bag*

Ryuji: You just carry that thing with you everywhere?

Akechi: I get asked a lot.

Akechi: Hey, do you like shrimp?

Sojiro: Not really..?

Akechi: Ramen?

Sojiro: Not much.

Akechi: Then you're not gonna like what I did.

Sojiro: What? You made shrimp ramen?

Akechi: No. I fucked your son.

Ryuji: Just before I die, I'm going to swallow a bag of popcorn kernels to make the cremation much more interesting.

Makoto: Okay, but consider this; What if you didn't.

Kidnapper, about Ryuji: We have your friend.

Akechi: Let me speak with him

Kidnapper: Go ahead you’re on speaker

Akechi: Dumbass.

Ren: Goro and Ryuji had a fight once and it went like this:

Ryuji: Anything that comes out of your mouth is fucking stupid!

Akechi: Ryuji Sakamoto.

Ren: To this day, I still laugh out loud in inappropriate settings because I randomly think about it.

Ren: Hostage or not, sometimes it's nice being held.

Some Shadow:

Shadow: Are you okay?

Sae: WHY IS THE BUILDING ON FIRE?

Yusuke: A dragon sneezed.

Ann: I tried to light a cigar with a flame thrower.

Ryuji: Dropped my latest mix tape.

Sae: Ren, please tell me what happened.

[Flashback to Ren and Futaba arguing that it was impossible to light a fire extinguisher on fire]

Ren: Um.

Ren: I don’t remember.

Maruki: On a scale from 1-10, rate your pain.

Akechi: Pi. A minimal but a never ending number.

Maruki: What in the actual-

Ryuji coming up with a frankly terrible idea: I think we should do this.

Yusuke, who somehow got stuck being the voice of reason: No, Futaba, tell him we can't.

Futaba, who was already running the logistics the moment Ryuji opened his mouth: I think your plan is dumb as bricks, but man, do I wanna see where it goes.

Ren, who just wants to see the world burn: If it fails, we'll just blame Ryuji.

Ryuji: Yusuke's in charge, though.

Futaba: Yusuke, then.

Akechi: Ren and I don't have pet names for each other.

Ryuji: What do bees make?

Akechi: ..Honey?

Ryuji:

Ruiji: Huh, really thought that would work

Akechi: Dumbass.

Ren, from another room: yeah?

Ren: What are Ryuji and Ann arguing about this time?

Morgana: They have a bet going about what Akechi is like in bed. Ann thinks she’s secretly really caring, but Ryuji thinks he’s kinky.

Ren: Yeah, he’s both.

Morgana:

Ryuji:

Ann:

Ren:

Ren: I MEAN-

Makoto: Did you seriously bring a butter knife to the Metaverse?!

Ren: You get angry so fast, it was the only weapon I could find on such short notice!

Yusuke: But you know, you have to admit it is BUTTER than nothing.

Makoto:

Ren:

Yusuke: I'm sorry.

Ren: Is it too much to ask to just have a quiet night in? Slippers, tea, a nice movie?

The shadow he's currently got in a headlock: Oh mooooood.

Makoto: For self defense reasons, I’m gonna pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely.

Yusuke: Okay

Akechi: Sure.

Makoto: If you want to live, give me all your money!

Yusuke: Bold of you to assume I have money.

Akechi: Bold of you to assume I want to live.

Makoto:

Makoto: Really?

Akechi: The path to inner peace begins with four words.

Akechi: NOT. MY. FUCKING. PROBLEM.

Ryuji: You've all heard of elf on the shelf, now get ready for-

Ryuji, placing a pot on Akechi's head: Thot in a pot

Akechi:

Akechi, getting up from his seat: Get ready for a bitch in a ditch because that's where you're gonna find your fucking body, you little-

Makoto: I need you to swear-

Haru: Fuck!

Makoto: Swear as in promise....

Sojiro: Why the hell are there bullet holes in Leblanc?!

Ren: There was a cockroach.

Sojiro: And...?

Futaba: It started flying towards Akechi.

Akechi: I hate you.

Ren: Well, according to this picture Yusuke painted of us having sex, that is untrue

Futaba, swinging from the chandelier: Makoto!!!! Look at me!!!!

Makoto, following Futaba in case she falls: I'm crying- I'm begging. Please, stop.

Futaba, after winning a fight in a palace: It’s like we just cleared a video game on easy.

Makoto: Real combat is NOT like a video game.

Ryuji, in the background: Hey, coins!

Sojiro, sighing tiredly: Futaba, I promise there are no monsters under your bed okay?

Futaba, scoffing: Not monster- MOBster. There is a mobster under my bed.

*Clicking is heard as gun safety is taken off*

Ryuji, pointing a model gun at Sojiro: Ya didn’t see shit.

Sojiro, exasperatedly: Ryuji you have your own house.

Morgana to Haru: Okay, now observe.

Morgana: EVERYONE, The floor is lava!

Ann: *Helps Makoto and Sumire onto the counter*

Futaba: *Pushes Ryuji off the sofa*

Morgana: As you can see, there are two types of people–

Akechi: *Collaspes onto the floor*

Morgana: ....Three-

Makoto: Sophia found out she could sneakily put post-its on people's backs without them knowing

Makoto: But she doesn't know they should say things like 'kick me', so they all just have smiley faces on them

Murderer: *Chasing Ren around Leblanc*

Ren: ALEXA! PLAY THE SCOOBY DOO THEME SONG!

Ryuji: Dude, why the hell is there blood everywhere!?

Yusuke: Well, you see, it's simple color theory-

Futaba: WHO ATE MY CURRY?

Ryuji: Don’t look at me

Futaba: INARI, WAS IT YOU?

Yusuke: *Looks at Sumire*

Sumire:

Yusuke: It was Sumire..

Sumire: YUSUKE YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN´T TELL-

Futaba: Oh, it was you, baby? Was it good? Want some more?

Ryuji: This motherf-

Ann: Would you kiss Yusuke for a million yen?

Ryuji: I guess..?

Ryuji: But, I mean, I don’t really have that kind of money..

Ren: Okay guys, meet your new teammate Hifumi. She gave me two dollars this morning for some reason, so I bought a jelly pouch with it.

Makoto, whispering: Why did you give him two dollars?

Hifumi, whispering back: I thought he was homeless

Morgana: You're losing blood. What's your type?

Ryuji, bleeding out: Blue hair, skinny, broke as fuck-

Morgana: Your blood type, Ryuji.

Ryuji: Oh-

Ryuji:

Ryuji: Red?

Ann: Aw, he's so cute.

Ren: Thanks, he's a rescue.

Akechi: Stop calling me that!

Ren: If I was a famous author, I would publish a book with ten different endings, each of which would print with varying degrees of rarity, but not tell the fans about it so that I could watch their confusion as they disagree over how the story ended. Then, when they figure it out, I would ‘come clean’, telling them that there were actually 11 different endings and watch them scramble to find the last ending.

Futaba: Are you Satan?

Ryuji: I’ll pay you $5 to do that right now.

Ryuji: Dude...

Yusuke: You had your tongue in my mouth 5 minutes ago. Don't you dare call me 'dude'.

Makoto: The game is two truths and one lie. Ren, you go first.

Ren: Okay, my hair is black, my eyes are brown, and last week my boyfriend was driving me to Chipotle and he asked if I wanted to see him drift and corner so I said yes and he drifted onto Angel street.

Makoto: Right idea Ren, but you really have to make it more challenging-

Ryuji: His eyes are black.

Makoto:

Makoto: Goro did what?!

Chihiya: May I read your tarot, sir?

Goro: A fortune teller? Very well, then.

Chihiya:

Chihiya: It just says "Yikes".

Sae: Don't be a smartass, Ren.

Ren: Dumbass it is then.

Ann: Would you rather be proposed to in private or in front of family and friends?

Ren: Private. Because when he gets off his knees, I’m getting on mine.

Akechi: *Chokes on his coffee*

Ren: I am a complex person with complex emotions, like “tired” and “food” and even the rarer third emotion, “gun”.

Makoto: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no clue what to put in them. Suggestions?

Ryuji: Put spaghetti in it.

Makoto: I'm currently taking suggestions from literally anyone but you.

Ren: Put spaghetti in it.

Makoto: I'm currently taking suggestions from anyone but you two.

Futaba: Put spaghetti in it.

Makoto: I am no longer taking suggestions.

Ren: *Slowly reaches for a container at a grocery store labeled Forbidden Rice*

Sojiro, smacking his hand: Can’t you read?!

Sojiro: That’s not funny.

Futaba: I thought it was funny.

Sojiro: You don't count. You started laughing in the middle of a funeral because you started thinking of a meme you saw on Tumblr.

Akechi, to the theives: And if you have any suggestions, feel free to put them in the suggestion box.

Ryuji: But— that’s a trash can.

Akechi: It sure is.

Ren: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?

Futaba: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies

Haru: Socks are Feetie Heaties

Ann: Forks are Stabby Grabbies

Yusuke: Defibrillators are heartie starties

Ryuji: Stamps are lickie stickies

Sumire: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies

Akechi: I hate it here.

Yusuke, at the hospital: I'm here to see my husband.

Receptionist: And your husband is...?

Yusuke: You must be new here.

Ryuji, down the hall on crutches: Yusuke! *Trips*

Yusuke: That would be the love of my life.

Haru: Every single person you know has something in their life and past that is probably worth collapsing to the ground in an uncontrollably sobbing heap over, so be nice to each other and tell good jokes!

Futaba: Sumire is my...

Ren: come on you can do it

Futaba: Sumire is my g...g...

Ren: You're so close.

Futaba: g-

Futaba: gir-.. g-

Futaba: G-GAY FRIEND

Ren, sighing: Close enough.

Yusuke: Oh, he's handsome.

Ryuji: *Blushes and trips over his own feet when they make eye contact*

Yusuke: A gorgeous loser.

Mishima, after meeting Shinya: Seven-year-olds are the meanest people in the world. They terrify me to this day.

Mishima: If I'm on the street on like, a Friday, at 3 PM and I see a group of elementary-schoolers on the side of the street, I will immediately cross to the other side of the street.

Kidnapper: We have him.

Ren: Who?

Kidnapper, about Akechi: We have your boyfriend.

Ren: Oh.

Kidnapper: "Oh"?

Ren: Yeah, you don't have him. He has you. Good luck

Makoto: You know, not every problem can be solved with a gun.

Akechi: That's why I carry two guns.

Ren, seductively taking off his glasses: Wow... You're... really blurry.

Akechi: Thanks.

Akechi: You really don’t get to choose who you love

Akechi, gesturing at Ren: I would know because I’m stuck liking this guy

Haru: What kind of woman doesn't have an axe?

Makoto: What’s something you guys are better than Akechi at?

Futaba: Mario Kart.

Ren: Cooking.

Haru: Emotional vulnerability.

Ren, trying to create a sense of calm by lighting incense, only to find out that the sticks were actually sparklers:

Ren: This is actually painfully on-brand for me.

Futaba: I wonder what butterflies taste like.

Ren: They taste bad.

Futaba: How do you know that?

Ren: I answered your question. That's all you're getting

Ryuji, trying to ask Yusuke out: Do you eat? I do. Want to do it in the same room sometime?

Ann: Elf on the shelf? How about *Pans to Yusuke in the sink* twink in the sink

[flecks-of-stardust]

okay year in review eh

this shit's long so i'll put it under a cut, and also all tags are going to be removed

I posted 4,547 times in 2022

That's 1,870 more posts than 2021! (lmao. even though i made my blog sept 2021? i guess i slowed down somewhat)

551 posts created (12%)

3,996 posts reblogged (88%) (honestly not too shabby of a ratio for original stuff)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

liquidlikecats (hi moss)

aroarachnid (hi ash)

flecks-of-stardust (LOL MY FUCKING LIVEBLOGGING)

flame-shadow (huh i guess flame just posts a lot)

I tagged 3,149 of my posts in 2022

Only 31% of my posts had no tags (that is surprisingly high tbh)

#hollow knight - 939 posts (haha yes hollow knight blog)

#ghost - 277 posts

#the knight - 237 posts

#hornet - 177 posts

#bug fables - 163 posts

#rain world - 141 posts

#holly - 134 posts

#the hollow knight - 115 posts

#bookmarked - 113 posts

#pale king - 87 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa (of course it's just screaming)

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

the sale is over stop giving this notes pls /hj

160 notes - Posted May 4, 2022

#4

yknow, the watcher knights really speak to the influence lurien had. monomon’s protection is uumuu, a sentient jellyfish that presumably has some ties to her, while herrah’s protection is her people, in her Den. but lurien? lurien gets an army of knights. we fight five/six, but there’s more husks in the background. who knows how many knights he had at his disposal, all ready to guard his body? what kind of power must you have to have access to that?

192 notes - Posted November 27, 2022

honestly i still don't know how this has so many notes. where were yall even coming from?

#3

[image description: a crochet doll of a very round Radiance. She is roughly spherical, has a three pronged crown, a pair of wings each with three fronds, and round yellow eyes set into a black heart shaped mask. Everything about her is rounded and soft, though her eyes are ovals. end image description]

Orbiance

i saw someone’s radiorb plush in the main tag and was hit with the realization that i, too, can make the roundest radi to ever moth. she’s the biggest thing i’ve ever made thus far, which is... fitting, i think. her crown was surprisingly easy to wrangle into place, but i won’t complain sfjkghjk her face took more effort, honestly.

it’s interesting trying to simplify a design as layered as radi’s down into what is essentially a fancy ball. i thought about adding more fluff to her wings, but honestly, the triplet wing-crown-wing probably makes it cuter. also, from experience with the wooly aphid, adding more fluff just tends to look weird, so eh. simpler is better sometimes.

also, there is a surprise under her...

See the full post

236 notes - Posted May 7, 2022

bro tumblr gave this post a cliffhanger DKJSJKS all hail radiorb

#2

i ship lurien with a bed and a good nap

340 notes - Posted August 12, 2022

fran i blame you for this /j

My #1 post of 2022

the abyss cutscene after you dream nail the egg is a somber one, but i do have to wonder. how does ghost know what the pale king asked of the vessels? like the pale king is clearly going ‘no mind to think, no will to break’ as ghost is climbing up to the top in the cutscene, but surely he couldnt have told each individual vessel as they hatched ‘hey heres what i want you to do’ since theres probably billions of them

the most likely answer is probably magic, somehow, or. gameplay reasons. because this is a video game. but i want to entertain the idea that ghost knows what the pale king expected of the vessels because he stood at the top and screamed it repeatedly down into the abyss

661 notes - Posted January 4, 2022

thanks flame for helping this post blow up /s

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

anyway this is interesting. if i'm still on the hellsite next year we'll compare again lmfao

[cousinslavellan-archive]

❛ it’s hard to sit here and be close to you and not kiss you. ❜ and ❜ you left like i was never a reason to stay. ❜ would be perfect for terra & braham! gimme that angst to fluff with my favorites <3

[Oh ouch why you gotta do this to meeeeee ♥ lmao. a little change in scene from what happened in TP, cause I can ;P So Post-POF, Early Season 4 ]

The room is silent, save for the whistling of the desert winds outside the shuttered blinds. Taimi is next door, resting and recovering from her encounter with Joko - the others are spread throughout the top floor of the inn, sharing rooms as needed.

Terra sits at the head of her rented bed, staring straight ahead at the wall opposite. Trying to keep her head high, to seem like she's not about to lose it.

Braham is a beacon of warmth at the end of the bed, one leg propped up, green eyes boring into the same wall that she's focusing so determinedly on.

There's maybe two feet of space between them, and yet it still feels like he's gone, like he's back in the Shiverpeaks and she's falling to Balthazar's flames, alone.

That's not fair.

It's not, but it still hurts.

They've been talking - it hasn't been all silence, since they'd returned to the inn - but they are awkward, trying to explain themselves, to defend themselves.

It's been... difficult. And it will take time. And Terra doesn't blame him, she doesn't, for leaving when he did - for mourning and needing the space, to go after what he believed to be the right path after Eir's passing.

But...

"You left like I was never a reason to stay." she whispers, hating herself even as she says it, eyes closing to stay the tears that threaten to fall.

Braham sucks in a breath, and she feels him shift on the bed - to look at her, probably, but she doesn't dare open her eyes.

"I'm not sorry I left... but I am sorry I didn't tell you where I was going." he pauses, voice breaking a little, "Ter - Spirits, don't cry, I can't-"

"Sorry, sorry, I'm not-" she sniffles a little, wiping away the few tears that have escaped, still refusing to open her eyes, "-I'm not mad, not anymore. I know you had to go, and... I'm just. So happy you're back, but I wish-"

"If there had been any chance that you'd have come with me, I'd have asked you." he cuts her off, gruff but sincere, "But you're the Commander, and you always will be. You have duties. We both do."

Terra laughs - a bitter sound, halfway between a chuckle and a croak - eyes opening to watch him, turned towards her as he is.

He has grown, in their time apart. He is taller, and broader, and so damn handsome it makes her heart hurt. And she will forgive him, always, because he is hers, just as she is his.

"Sometimes I hate it." she admits, quietly, "I wish we could just be ourselves and run away."

Braham stares at her, green eyes aglow in the dark of the room - and she realizes he is closer, suddenly, so close that she could easily touch him, if she wished.

"It's hard, you know." he mutters, gaze shifting away a moment.

"What is?"

"It's hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you." his eyes flick back to her, the green even brighter then before, "It's hard."

Terra licks her lips, swallows. Feels the bloom of warmth in her belly that hasn't existed since he'd left. And makes a decision.

"Then kiss me."

Braham's eyes widen a moment, searching hers - and when all he finds is a mirror of his own desire, he shifts even closer, bending as she leans up.

Terra can't remember many perfect moments in her life, but the moment his lips seal gently over hers is one she never wants to forget.

[sunjaesol]

juke | spiderman au | tw: violence | title: motion // luke hemmings

🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️

"Hey, Julie," Luke greets, walking into Molina's Flowers & Gifts.

It's quiet in the store. An abundance of flowers packed together winking at him, corners stuffed with candles, books, vases and picture frames. It's a well-loved shop, within the Molina family for decades, their youngest daughter and his classmate now meandering behind the counter.

She smiles, "Hey, Luke. How are your aunt's tulips?"

"Uh," he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, "very... tulip-y."

"Solid."

"Yeah. Anyway—" he points at her "—about the assignment. I can't do it with you."

She frowns. "Why?"

Because at night, he has to patrol the city! Who else is going to protect and serve New York — or Queens, specifically! They need him! Sure, they don't appreciate him or, y'know, know who he is, but...

As much as he wants to work with Julie — and really, he does, she's amazing — he simply can't. That's the responsibility he's taken upon himself as Spiderman and he has to honour that.

"Family commitment," he lies with a grimace. "I can do some research in the library this week, but—"

"Forget it," she mutters. "I'll do it. But you present, okay? I hate public speaking."

He sighs in relief. "Thank you! Yes, you got it!"

"You owe me now, you know that?" she asks, peering. It reminds him how she, unlike him, is a full-blooded New Yorker. She has bark and bite, while he has that Los Angeles softness buffing the edges of his actions.

Unless he's Spiderman. Then there's no stopping him.

Leaning against the counter, he tries dazzling her with a charming smile. "Like what?"

She thinks for a moment, face twisting up in that cute, pensive face she has; always crossing her features during calculus or physics. Another reason why he hates bailing on her: she's mad cute — and one of the few people at school that doesn't regard his music mania as geeky.

"Every weekend, me and my dad go to the flower market and get our batch. It's at four am. My dad's sick, so you're joining me this Saturday."

He grimaces. "Four? Really?"

"I know you're not Jewish. You're free."

"I could be!"

Her head tilts, amused. "Are you, Patterson?"

Sighing, his head drops along with his resolve. She has him. "Fine. Yes, I'll help you. Don't blame me if I fall asleep with my eyes open!"

Julie giggles at his remark and it makes him look up, a giddy feeling spreading in his chest. Her face is close to his, the colours of the flowers glimmering in her eyes, and he's kind of taken by her. Wow.

"Great. Now get out of my store!" she commands, grabbing the broom beside her. "I need to sweep the floors."

Pushing himself off from the counter, he cheekily salutes at her and bids goodbye, bouncing outside mere seconds later. That went better than expected — he even made her laugh!

Reggie sends him a text. I updated your suit. Good to go for tonight with zero malfunctions!

His grin widens. This Tuesday afternoon could not have gone better!

~

Fuck. He should've known those words were gonna jinx him.

Luke slings from skyscraper to skyscraper after a gang of armed criminals, failing to capture them with his webs and almost being shot himself just ten minutes ago!

Yeah, sneezing loudly during their very creepy gang meeting in a quiet Queens alleyway was not his proudest moment. Fucking hay fever.

It's even worse that they're fighting in his neighborhood, the streets familiar and well-trodden by him, his friends, his family. His stomach twists up with dread, but he has to keep going. He almost has them!

There's six of them, so he's sure he can get a few from a distance. Quickly mapping out his strategy from the ledge of a building, bug eyes gleaming in the street lights, he launches into action.

(There are police sirens in the distance, likely being called after the thugs broke into that bank, but Luke can't wait. This is his time.)

Webbing two against the brick walls of a bodega, he throws a joke alongside it too and adds extra webbing to their mouths. No need to hear their response!

A third thug gets lassoed towards him, dizzying the man, and a simple swing of the fists knocks him out cold.

The other three keep sprinting, shooting over their shoulder all precariously. If Luke wasn't running on adrenaline and fright, he'd scoff at their mindless use of bullets. One hits a lamppost, a mailbox, a tree.

(On that tree, a “who is spiderman?” poster, something he'd get excited over if, again, there wasn't a crime to be solved. Damn it, thugs!)

He manages to shoot a gun out of one man's hand and then web him down on the pavement, but the last two outsmart him. Exhaustion weighs his bones down — it's one am, school starts at eight, he has to pretend to be all normal and cool — and the police still hasn't arrived.

Any nagging thought gets knocked out of his mind the second he sees them crashing the windows of the Molina's, barelling into their store. His gut plummets while anger rises, reaching a fever pitch shaped in an angry cry and a boost of energy. Screw, strategy! He needs to fix this!

Zooming into the store after them, more bullets hurl by, shattering glass and vases and flying past their faces. It works to his advantage, the criminals trying to shield themselves with their hands, a sudden weak spot. Luke webs one to the ground, extra hard.

But then two arms curl around his neck from behind.

"Whoa!" he chokes out, flailing to be released. "C'mon, man!"

"Time to sleep, Spiderman!" the criminal snarls with a thick east coast accent, tightening his iron hold.

Luke helplessly tries hitting him with his feet and elbows, but the man is rock solid and his spidey system malfunctions again from the high levels of stress. Shit!

Just as he feels lightheaded, a resounding clang! makes the arms slacken, the man slumping on the ground like a heavy sack of potatoes. Staggering away, he whirls around, only to come face to face with an enraged Julie Molina.

She squeaks out an undignified warrior cry, raising her baseball bat once more to knock him out.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he yells, grabbing onto the end of the stick before she gives him a concussion. "I'm the good guy! I'm—" he lowers his voice "—I'm Spiderman!"

The bat clatters to the ground. Her eyes slowly drift to the webbed man and the man's ass she whooped. And then, when he thinks she'll start crying from shock, she looks back at him in confusion.

"Why did you lower your voice like that?"

He blinks. Not what he expected. "Wha-? No, I didn't."

"You did. You sounded like a boy and now you don't."

He groans, stomping his foot. "I didn't! Anyway, Ju- miss. Girl. Thanks for the help. The police is on their way."

Her shoulder sag, now seemingly registering what just transpired. Her eyes, previously so pretty in daylight, well up with tears as she takes stock of her ruined family establishment. Luke swallows back the guilt, the immense urge to comfort her.

If he had just been faster... none of this would've happened.

A sob wracks her body. "My- my store. My dad. The flowers. We- we-" Her gaze locks on his, furiously devestated. "Why did you lead them here?!"

He raises his hands in defense. "I didn't! They trespassed! I- I'm so sorry, miss."

Her head shakes, more tears slipping down her cheeks. "That's not... good enough. Please go."

"Miss—"

"Go!" she shouts, pointing at the broken window.

He nods, obliging, utters once more the police is coming, and flies out the window. His mask rubs uncomfortably against his skin, cold sweat and tears pricking like needles.

When the next day at school Julie is nowhere to be found, he's not surprised.

🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️

@blush-and-books @bluefirewrites @thedeathdeelers @unsaid-emily @willexx @ourstarscollided @pink-flame @constantly-singing