#no explanation just poof gone

[ches-nogat]

Me listening to an ASMR video: I'm terrified of death, arent i? Damn

[ever-yours118]

“especially since christopher was out of town for a couple of days”

THEY CANONIZED CHRISTOPHER’S SEXILE SLEEPOVERS

[craske]

What if SMilk's hair was still messed up despite it not making sense for his character, because deJammed his hair does the cartoon-character-with-poofy-hair -thing where if they try to "tame" or flatten it, it just poofs back out?

(Bonus: If it needs a reason to do that, one idea I had was that maybe it's because his hair is usually (so with Jam) "drenched" in magic, and when he loses that his hair gets frizzly, a bit like what happens if one lets their hair dry after swimming in saltwater)

(Of course, this is just something silly I thought of and decided to use as a fanart opportunity. Regardless of whether you vibe with the idea(s) or not, I hope the art is enjoyable :3 Love the AU, and love this pathetic wet cat of a guy!)

thats such an awesome idea i LOVE IT!!! magically maintained appearance, of COURSE he would do that

and the possible explanation behind it is so cool too, itd be very fun. i had a very similar idea actually!! that his hair is so covered with enough magic and actual shadows that it looks nothing like hair at all when he is his normal self (hence it moving in tandem with his emotions, not to mention the eyes in its dark parts). so yeah now that the magic is mostly gone, so is that shadowy coat, leaving his real hair visible to everyone + also much more difficult to actually deal with

thank you for these lovely drawings!!! ive been looking at them all the time and kicking my feet, theyre great!!! and im really happy to hear that you like it!! 🥺🥺🥺

[into-fiction]

something short and ridiculous just for fun. inspired by an idea from @tweenlove-n-hate

also posted on ao3!

///

Listen- Galinda isn’t actually sure how it happens, she swears. All she knows is one minute, Elphaba is there, she is standing in the room as Galinda closes her eyes and clenches her toes and waves that stupid, silly training wand through the air. 

One minute, Elphaba is there. The next, there is nothing but the plant. 

Yes. That’s right. A plant. A small, potted plant, of indiscernible species, rich green in color and with four skinny, slightly pointy leaves sticking out of the dirt. 

Galinda gapes at it, looking around as though waiting for Elphaba to jump out and say “gotcha!” She never does. Heart pounding, panic rising, Galinda steps up to the little pot. She leans down so her face is level with its leaves. 

“Elphie?” she whispers. 

The plant does not answer her, but she swears she sees a leaf wave.��Fuck. 

She needs to get Fiyero. 

***

“What do you mean you don’t know?” 

“I mean I don’t know, Fiyero! One second Elphaba was here, and the next- poof! She’s gone! And that is sitting in her place!” 

Fiyero groans, rubbing at his temples. “You turned your roommate into a plant.” 

“I didn’t mean to!” Galinda wails. She’s been going crazy all morning, apologizing to the little plant, moving it into the sun, taking it out of the sun when she worried that would burn it. 

“I don’t know how to take care of a plant, Fiyero, help me!” 

“Oh, well, here’s a thought, how about turning her back into a person!” 

“I’ve tried that!” 

“What about Morrible?”

“Morrible? Madame Morrible? She would kill me!” 

“Well- you may have killed Elphaba!”

“I didn’t kill her- she’s right there!”

“As a PLANT!”

The conversation continues in that vein, none of which is all that helpful. Fiyero eventually leaves, saying he’ll see if he can find anyone who knows more than them about plant care. To care. For the plant. Which is also, possibly, maybe, probably, her friend. 

Galinda has owned exactly one plant in her life. It was a cactus. And it died. 

She may or may not be freaking out. 

***

Taking care of plant-Elphie is stressful. 

She needs water but not too much. Sun, but not too much. The room has to be warm, but not too warm. 

Galinda keeps moving the pot around, trying to find the place where it looks and feels the best. She watches closely for any signs, for the stems to wiggle or the leaves to wave. Something. 

“We have class soon, Elphie,” Galinda whispers. It’s been three hours. She’s already losing hair. 

“I know how much you hate to miss class.” Galinda sighs, tapping her nails on her chin in thought. She could just…bring Elphie with her. Surely, their professor wouldn’t mind. She’s quiet, non-disruptive. She can just sit on Galinda’s desk- that way she’ll still be able to listen to the lesson. 

“Okay, sounds like a plan!” 

Galinda continues to chatter to Elphie as she gets ready, frowning when she realizes that the little red pot Elphie is sitting in will clash with her uniform. “Hm.” Galinda doesn’t have time to wait for paint to dry and she has no other appropriately sized and colored pots on hand. 

Rustling around for her spellbook--cringing as she remembers what happened last time--Galinda flips to the bookmarked page for color changes. This is the first spell she ever mastered. Closing her eyes, she carefully casts the spell on the pot. 

Only the pot. 

She blinks one eye open cautiously, carefully, and beams when she sees it’s been a success. The little green plant now sits in a delightfully pink pot. “Perfect!” Galinda cries. She reaches over and pats a leaf gently with a single fingertip. “Pink goes so well with green.”

***

Galinda makes sure to bring Elphie to every class- her friends noting the green girl’s absence but accepting Galinda’s explanation with minimal raised eyebrows and questioning remarks. Galinda keeps a close eye on the pot, making sure it’s not too close to the edge of her desk where someone may bump into it and knock it off. 

In between classes, when usually she’d study with Elphaba, she instead takes some scrap pieces of cloth and stitches Elphie her own little bag, placing it carefully around the pot. She smiles, nodding sharply, and then turns back to her research on reversing spells. 

At lunch, she rocks back and forth on worried heels, eyeing the options and then eyeing the pot. “I don’t think plants eat food, Galinda,” Pfannee reminds her. “Just sun and water.”

“What about fertilizer?”

“Well, that’s to grow, right? How long do you expect Elphie to remain in there?”

He’s right. Galinda sighs. She was meant to go to the library later that day to try and find some new books to help her turn Elphie back. She’s a lovely plant, very pretty really, but Galinda would really rather have a human roommate. 

***

“It’s not working.” Galinda growls under her breath, resisting the urge to run her hands through her perfectly curled hair in frustration. She’s tried every reversal spell she can think of, and Elphie is still a plant. 

At this point- Galinda is going to have to give up and go to Madame Morrible for help. And then she’s really going to want to cry. 

“Oh, don’t be sad, Elphie. I promise I’ll figure it out.”

Galinda has now pinned a small pink bow to Elphie’s pot. Just to make her feel a little prettier. Her leaves were just a touch bland, not that Galinda would ever say anything. She’s not sure why Elphie isn’t a flowering plant. Elphie is much too beautiful to just be a handful of leaves. 

Galinda sighs, slumping down in her chair and reaching over to pull the pot to her chest, one arm wrapped securely around it. “I’ve got you,” she mumbles. “Don’t worry, Elphie. I’ll fix this.”

***

Galinda tries closing her eyes. She tries spinning around. She tries yelling and waving and leaping. She sticks her tongue out. She clenches her butt cheeks. She does just about every trick in the book, wand waving through the air, and she gets no closer to a human Elphie. 

It evening now, and Galinda had almost had a breakdown when she realized there’d be no sun. What if Elphie got cold? What if she got hungry? Plants ate sunlight, right? What if she starved to death overnight?!!

Galinda ends up calling the boys over, getting them to pore over books with her. Elphie sits carefully in front of the stack of books, a pen balanced across the top of her pot because Galinda didn’t want her feeling left out. 

“Anything?” Galinda asks, hours later. 

Both boys shake their heads sadly. Boq leans back on his hands, rolling his neck after hours spent bent over books. Galinda watches him anxiously. She’ll have to tell his girlfriend tomorrow if she still hasn’t fixed this. 

Nessarose deserved to know her sister is a plant. 

Actually. Speaking of--

“Where is Nessa?” she asks. 

Boq blinks at her. “She’s with her father today. He’s in town for something and wanted to meet up, so she’s not getting back until late tonight or early tomorrow morning.”

Oh, right. Elphaba had mentioned something about that. She hadn’t seemed very pleased her father was in town. 

Galinda goes back to her books, muttering spells to herself and glancing up occasionally to see if anything has changed. Elphie remains the same, skinny leaves shining in the lamplight. Eventually, Galinda knows they have to call it quits. 

She’ll need to confess everything in the morning. Dread pools in her stomach at the idea of facing Morrible. 

“Hey, Galinda, I think I figured out what kind of plant she is,” Fiyero calls out. He turns a gardening book around, tapping the page. “She’s an artichoke!” 

Galinda stares, horrified, for all of five seconds before she bursts into sobs. 

***

Perhaps it’s a cruel form of karma. The universe teaching her a lesson for being so very mean those first few weeks of school. 

Galinda shoos the boys out with tears still dripping off her cheeks, slamming the door shut and crossing the room to collapse in front of the little pot. She stares at it, sniffling loudly. 

“I’m so sorry, Elphie,” she says. “I didn’t mean to, I promise.”

Galinda checks how dry the soil is. She inspects the leaves for any spots or discoloration. She triple checks the thermometer telling her how warm the room is. And then, just in case, she wraps the pot in Elphaba’s favorite gray blanket and places it on her nightstand.

She sings to it as she goes about her nighttime routine, voice echoing through the room. Something soft and loving. Something sweet. And then, when there’s nothing else to do, she sits crosslegged on her bed with the pot in her lap, gazing forlornly at Elphie’s tiny leaves. 

The room feels a bit too big and empty with just her in it. She sniffles again, new tears crowding her eyes. She misses Elphaba, even if it’s really only been a single day. Even if she knows Elphie is right here, in her lap. 

It’s not the same. 

Galinda sucks in a shaky inhale. She blinks quickly, wiping at a stray tear with a knuckle. “Hey, Elphie?” she says quietly. “Can I tell you a secret?”

The plant doesn’t respond, but she really hopes its listening. 

“I really missed you today. We didn’t get to eat breakfast together. Or lunch. Or dinner. And we didn’t study after history. And we didn’t nap together after lunch. And we didn’t take a walk in the gardens before nightfall. And- And-” Galinda swallows hard, a real secret sitting behind her tongue. “And I really missed you.”

She had. It’s the truth. Even running around trying to figure this out all day, she kept turning to look for Elphaba. She kept reaching for Elphaba’s hand. She kept opening her mouth to tell her something or ask a question or seek reassurance. She hadn’t realized how important Elphaba had grown to her everyday life. 

How much Galinda needed her. 

Galinda brushes a fingertip down a soft leaf’s edge. “I need you, Elphie,” she whispers. “Please.”

Her eyes slide shut, her magic swells, and Galinda hopes and hopes and hopes. But when she opens her eyes, all she sees is the same four leaves, still and unmoving and unchanging. 

What if some spells are never reversible? 

Galinda places Elphie gently on her nightstand again, tucking her blanket around her. She has a cup of water waiting nearby in case Elphie is thirsty in the morning. She’s moved her nightstand so it’ll catch the sun’s first rays through the window. 

Lastly, Galinda reaches over and taps her finger gently against the edge of the pot, pulling on her magic and letting a wave of black coat the outer shell of the pot. After all- Elphie would hate to wear pink pajamas to bed. 

“Goodnight, Elphie,” Galinda whispers. “I love you.”

***

Sunlight wakes Galinda slowly, the blonde humming under her breath as she stretches languidly and cracks her jaw on a yawn. She blinks her eyes open, brow scrunching. Was she forgetting something? 

With a gasp, Galinda shoots up, looking over to her bedside table. Which. 

Is empty. 

Galinda screams. 

It echoes around the room, piercing and shrill, her foggy, freshly-woken mind flooded with panic. She’s still screaming when Elphaba bursts out of the bathroom door, toothbrush in her mouth and eyes wild as she searches the room for a threat. 

“What- What is it?! What are you screaming about?” 

Galinda gapes, mouth wide open. She stares and stares, Elphaba staring, bewildered, right back. And. Then. 

Galinda screams. 

It goes on for long enough that Elphaba dives across the bed and slams her hand over Galinda’s mouth. “Galinda!” Elphaba hisses. “You’re going to wake the whole school! What is the problem?”

Her voice softens then, hand loosening. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Galinda thinks she’s still dreaming, actually. “Y-you’re here,” she croaks out. 

“Um. Yes?”

“B-b-but-- The plant?”

Elphaba blinks, rocking back. After a second, her eyes light up with understanding. “Oh! That little guy. Yeah, I put him over there by the window, see? I about knocked him over when I bumped into your nightstand this morning, which- I don’t know why it was all the way out there.”

Galinda follows Elphaba’s finger to a little black pot on the desk by the window, four skinny leaves and a tiny pink bow. “I see you gave him a makeover,” Elphaba teases. 

Galinda swallows hard, mouth dry and head hurting. “He?”

“Uhhh. Or she, that’s fine. I don’t think plants have a preference.”

Galinda thinks she may combust. “You- you aren’t a plant?”

“What?” Elphaba huffs out a startled laugh. “Um, no? No, I’m pretty sure I’m very human.”

Galinda squeaks, scrambling out of her bed. She sways, blinking spots from her vision as Elphaba reaches for her. “You were never a plant?”

“Nnnoo…Galinda are you okay?” 

Galinda looks at the pot. She looks at Elphaba. She looks back at the pot. 

She kind of wants to scream again. 

“I-I-I thought--”

“Wait.” Elphaba’s lips twitch, laughter bubbling in her chest. “Did you think I turned into a plant? That plant?”

Galinda’s veins are shaking. “Yes!”

“Why in all of Oz would you--”

“You weren’t here! You disappeared! And-and- there was just that in your place!”

Elphaba laughs openly now, nearly doubling over in mirth. “Galinda,” she wheezes. “Galinda, I told you I was leaving and going with Nessa into the city. You were so locked in on whatever spell you were practicing that you weren’t paying me any attention.”

Galinda gapes at her, breathless. 

“I got the plant as a joke, remember? From the gardening club?” Elphaba shakes her head fondly. “You weren’t listening to a thing I said yesterday morning, were you?”

Galinda thinks she’d very much like to be a plant now. 

“So, so you were never--” 

“I can assure you, I was never a plant. I was in the city all day. Nessa can vouch for me.”

A beat passes. All the air gusts out of Galinda and she collapses back to the bed with a groan, flopping onto her back and throwing an arm over her face. “I spent all day--” 

Elphaba laughs again. “Well, I guess that explains the black paintjob. Though- a bow? Really?”

Galinda moves her arm to glare upward. “The whole pot was pink yesterday,” she sniffs. 

Elphaba cocks a single eyebrow. 

“Hey! Pink goes well with green.”

At that, Elphaba grins, rolling her eyes fondly. “It so does,” she finishes. 

She’s still chuckling to herself, backlit by morning light in a way that creates a little halo around her figure. Her eyes are mirthful and bright, her teeth flashing in a smile. She looks so--

She’s so--

Oz, Galinda had missed her. 

“Hey, Elphie?” she questions. She swallows hard, looking at the plant one last time. “Tell me a secret.”

“What?” Elphaba blinnks, thrown. “We only do that at night,” she reminds. 

Galinda gives her a shaky, nervous smile. “You weren’t here last night,” she whispers. “And I really missed you.”

Elphaba softens, reaching out and taking Galinda’s hand when the blonde waves it around in the air. She moves closer, standing over Galinda’s flopped down form. “I missed you, too,” she says gently. 

“Really?”

“Really.”

Galinda smiles, dimple popping and eyes crinkling. A feeling like honey spreads through her, slow and warm. She doesn’t want to wait until tonight. She doesn’t want to wait another second. 

“Hey, Elphie?”

“Yeah?”

Galinda slowly turns their joined hands over, palms up, Galinda’s hand cupping Elphaba’s. There, sprouting in the center of Elphaba’s green palm, is a single brilliant poppy. A little plant magic. For luck. 

“What’s this for?” Elphaba asks. 

“For you.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

The poppy quivers, its petals shaking as Elphaba does. She gapes down at Galinda, emerald eyes wide. Then--

“I love you, too.”

Galinda beams. Elphaba blushes. The poppy dances. On the desk by the window- a little plant stretches just a little taller. 

[reveryfics]

Middle Of The Night

Pairings: Loki x Male reader

Summary: it's been five years since Loki disappeared, only to return in the middle of the night. You don't believe this is reality, so he proves it to you.

A/n: This was requested over on wattpad. Requests open

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the storm raging within him. Five years. Five agonizing years since Loki had vanished without a trace. No goodbye, no note, not even a whisper of an explanation. Just gone. Poof. Like a puff of smoke in the wind, leaving behind a gaping hole in his life.

Every night was a cruel reminder of his absence. The empty space beside him in the bed, the cold sheets mocking the warmth of Loki's body pressed against his own. The silence that had replaced the murmur of Loki's voice, the playful banter, the shared dreams whispered in the darkness.

He'd tried to move on, to rebuild his life, to find a rhythm that didn't constantly revolve around the gaping wound of Loki's disappearance. He'd succeeded, to a degree. Work, friends, even a tentative foray back into dating – all distractions, all desperate attempts to outrun the phantom pain that lingered.

But some nights, like tonight, the memories would come crashing down, a tidal wave of grief threatening to drown him. The scent of rain, the rumble of thunder, the flickering of lightning – all triggers, all cruel reminders of the night Loki had vanished.

He tossed and turned, the sheets damp with sweat and tears. Sleep was a distant memory, replaced by a suffocating blanket of despair. Thor, his dearest friend, had tried to help, his gruff words of comfort a balm to his aching soul. But even Thor's presence couldn't always chase away the shadows that clung to him.

Tonight, the shadows had won. He wept silently, the sobs racking his body, the pain a constant, suffocating presence. Just when he thought he couldn't bear it any longer, a voice, soft as a whisper, broke through the darkness.

"Oh, how I hate it when you cry," it murmured.

He froze, his breath catching in his throat. It couldn't be…

The bedside lamp flickered on, casting long, dancing shadows across the room. And there he was. Loki. His Loki.

He looked different, his hair shorter, his face etched with lines he hadn't noticed before, a hint of sadness in his eyes. But it was him.

"Loki?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

Loki smiled, a ghost of his old mischievous grin. "Hello, my love."

He wanted to believe it, to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart. But a flicker of doubt, cold and insidious, crept into his mind.

"It's… it's just a dream," he stammered, his voice trembling. "Or a hallucination. I've been… I've been so lonely."

Loki stepped closer, his gaze intense. "I assure you, my love," he said, his voice low and husky, "I am very real."

And then, he was there, hovering over him, his body warm against his own.

"Allow me to prove it," Loki murmured, his lips brushing against his ear.

Panic clawed at him. This couldn't be right. This couldn't be real. But the yearning, the desperate, aching need to believe, overwhelmed him.

He closed his eyes, surrendering to the illusion, the desperate hope that this wasn't just a cruel twist of fate, a final, agonizing blow.

And then, the kiss.

It felt real. Too real.

Loki's lips, tasted of rain and something faintly metallic, a scent that always seemed to cling to him. His hands, strong and sure, gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer, closer, until there was no space between them.

A low groan escaped his lips, a sound born of both pain and pleasure. He reached up, his fingers tangling in Loki's hair, pulling him down for a deeper kiss, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin, the solidity of his presence.

Loki tasted of him, of the years they'd spent together, of shared laughter and whispered secrets, of nights like this, filled with a passion that burned hotter than any star.

His hands moved, exploring the contours of Loki's body, tracing the lines of his muscles, the curve of his hips. He felt Loki shiver beneath his touch, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"You," Loki breathed against his lips, his voice a husky whisper, "you have no idea how much I've missed this."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching Loki's face, desperate for confirmation. The intensity in Loki's gaze, the raw hunger that burned in his eyes, answered his unspoken question.

He kissed him again, this time with a fierce possessiveness, a desperate need to claim him, to mark him as his own. Loki responded with an equal fervor, his hands roaming over his body, exploring every inch of him with a touch that both thrilled and terrified him.

He pushed him back against the pillows, his body hovering over Loki's, the sheets a tangle around their limbs. He felt Loki's breath quicken, his body trembling beneath him.

"Loki," he whispered, his voice hoarse, "I've missed you so much."

"More than you know," Loki replied, his voice a low growl.

He lowered himself, his body fitting perfectly against Loki's, the years of intimacy, the unspoken language of their bodies, guiding him. He felt Loki arch into him, a sound of pure pleasure escaping his lips.

The world seemed to fade away, replaced by the intense, primal sensation of their bodies merging, of their souls connecting. He lost himself in the sensation, the raw, animalistic pleasure of it all.

He moved within him, slow and deliberate at first, then with a growing urgency, mirroring the storm raging outside. Loki's hands tightened on his back, digging into his flesh, urging him on.

He cried out, a sound of pure ecstasy, as he reached his peak, the world exploding in a shower of sensation. Loki followed him closely, his body convulsing beneath him, a low moan echoing in the room.

They lay together, breathless, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts pounding in unison. For a long moment, they simply held each other, the silence broken only by the rhythmic drumming of the rain against the window.

"I thought I'd lost you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Loki tightened his arms around him, burying his face in his neck. "I never meant to leave you," he murmured. "Circumstances… they were… complicated."

He traced lazy circles on Loki's back, his fingers lingering on the scars that marred his skin, a testament to the battles they had fought together.

"I don't care about the reasons," he said, his voice husky. "I just want you here, with me."

Loki looked up at him, his eyes filled with a love so intense it took his breath away. "And I will be," he promised. "Always."

He pulled Loki closer, burying his face in his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, the sound of his breath against his skin. This was real. He knew it now, with a certainty that defied logic.

The rain continued to fall, but the storm within him had finally subsided, replaced by a sense of peace, of contentment, he hadn't felt in years. He had Loki back, and that was all that mattered.

As he drifted off to sleep, Loki's arms wrapped tightly around him, he knew that this was just the beginning. They had years to make up for, years to rediscover the love they had almost lost. And he, for one, intended to savor every single moment.

[kalims]

Hi, there! :D

I don't know if my request will be taken into account but you mentioned that it's okay to try.

I am not throwin' away my shot >:D (sorry my indoor theater kid comes out from time to time)

Type: Headcanons

Reader: Neutral

Scenary: The NCR boys see that a student from Noble Bell College or RSA who has been trying to flirt with the prefect, in a bold move steals the prefect's (first) kiss. How would they react and what would they feel?

I feel like it would be a rollercoaster of occurrences and complete chaos in NCR xD

If my request does not convince you, you can discard it without problems, but if not, take your time and without pressure, thank you 💐🌼✨👍✍️I love your TWST fics they always make me smile .

whisk away

premise. despite your many efforts of evading your seeming admirer, they remain persistent in their pursuit. you've considered just leaving them in the dust without an explanation whatsoever but you're too stunned to process the fact that they've just kissed you without a warning. next thing you know there's a murderous aura approaching.

characters. silver, jade, deuce, kalim, vil

note. you didn't really specify which characters jhshs so I took the liberty of scouring your blog and just put the ones you seem to like ^^ and I kid you not, used a wheel for the other 2 lol (so sorry, was gonna post this earlier but got busy since presentations came up so I only finished now.)

silver

has a mixture of shock and anger. which is mostly for your sake honestly, he wasn't gonna intervene cause he felt like you would wanna deal with it on your own so he feels the absolute mortification slipping into his bones. if he wasn't fully awake, then he definitely is now!

fully ready to talk some sense into that idiot who has no sense of space, hello?

last time he knew, you weren't really dating anyone. silver would know if you did, cause you both talk practically everyday and a lover would be something he should be aware of... unless you didn't talk? I mean, who else would just kiss you like that?

someone unpleasant. he decides. one look at your face and he knows immediately that it wasn't something you expected as well.

just pulls up with a rare look of anger directed to the student, brows furrowed, shoulders tense and all. everyone's used to the serene, calm look on his features so seeing him look so different probably put off said student so they scampered after a promise made by silver if they dared to stick around.

"leave, or find out what happens if you don't."

gone is the anger *poof* and is fretting over you now. are you okay? do you want him to knock some sense into that idiot? literally tell him anything, order him to do anything, and he'll do it (within reason) my guy is just here for your sake tbh.

kinda gloomy cause damn, that was your first? he wanted both of yours to be first and some grade a hole just decided to shatter all that. it makes him all the more irritated so if he can't have your first kiss, he'll just take your second, and every single other kiss you'll give.

jade

take the murderous aura and multiply it tenfold!!

jade doesn't really need to reach you and make his presence known by a few words cause it seems like everyone but you within 10 feet radius of him is sensing the murderous aura he's emitting. if it's not feeling that, then it's seeing the eery dark smile present on his face.

and he seems to be having a death march towards a specific direction so everybody knows where to avoid atleast. cause it seems like anyone on his path is gonna get trampled and no one likes a messy hall.

student in front of you pales, deluding themselves that maybe he's just heading somewhere behind them to vent out that rage or something but they glance behind and almost piss their pants when there is in fact, no one present near anywhere and he's getting closer.

so... they wanted to live so they just bolted out. an experience with one of the tweels won't be good news, and if jade is the one who has them in his sights... they'll take the head start thank you very much.

with the students face memorized and tucked into a corner of his mind he smiles almost innocently at you when you spot him and strike the most casual of conversation.

well, that's under the guise atleast. he's shooting you subtle questions about that person to which you reply innocently. oblivious to the grave you're digging for them yourself.

oddly enough jade started being strangely affectionate, a hand on the small of your back, maybe on your shoulder, arm, or a pat on your head as gratitude. but he seems to like kissing the back of your hand a lot...

*turns his head in their direction after kissing your hand*

deuce

I'll be perfectly honest. he doesn't really have much of an impact in terms of the intense aura that should have been felt. he looks a normal degree of angry, that's why the person hasn't gotten chased off even with the clear signs that deuce will be swinging a fist at probes.

unfortunate that's exactly what the person does. despite your clear reaction of disgust they still use you to rile up deuce. cooing at him while reaching for you, and chuckling about how they didn’t even know him, nor is it any of his business to interfere between two... lovers?

oh so they wanted to impact? they're gonna get one right now 👊 since it seems like they want to get to know him so bad they can get well acquainted with his fists, you know?

he made a promise to himself not to get involved with these type of mishaps! or at the very least resort to more peaceful methods than using violence as a sort of communication. the guilt eats him up a little but he thinks he'd never stand for someone who would disrespect you so blatantly!

almost comically, he looks like he spouts a pair of ears that of a dog's and turns to you. looking more apologetic compared to the fiery look he had a second ago, if he had a tail it would be tucked between his legs out of shame or something.

"I'm really sorry," he says. sulking. deuce apologizes to you, not for his choice of knocking out this random in the middle of the street but because of the fact that he did it in front of you. (also he's kinda jealous...)

if asked, he can, and WILL do it again.

don't blame him though! discreetly whisks you away to grab a bite. having literally no regards to the body looking like it's soul got knocked out laying, and looking out of place on the ground. maybe someone will check on them but definitely not him, they deserve it!

kalim

gasps loudly. "noooo!"

which is like a public proclamation that seeing that did everything but please him. which also means he's basically admitting he's jealous in an indirect way, might as well just say he likes you or something (he probably will if asked because he thinks it's nothing worthy of hiding.)

bounds up to you asking who that is quite loudly to the point where it would seem like he just stumbled upon you cheating on him. it doesn't help that he actually looks sad, teary and all. jamil is off, having paused in his trail since he was previously chasing the boy who ran off.

now he isn’t sure if he wants to get involved now. this is so embarrassing.

lowkey other student would just look back and forth to you, then to kalim. the latter in question unintentionally ignored his existence to be honest, since he was too busy shaking your shoulders and probing the answer of you.

"why would you kiss a stranger...?" he trails off, you did answer. kalim is genuinely wondering to himself if it was that easy cause damn, he scratches his head. that made no sense (says the guy who is making no sense.)

he makes it so obvious that he's pondering with the finger under his chin, eyes lost pointed at the air and the unnecessary loud humming... at this point the atmosphere became more awkward because you and the student is staring at him in bewilderment.

drag him off please, and explain it to him elsewhere. public is NOT a good place. so instead of him saving you out of a situation like this, you save him? talk about being built different...

vil

what in the sevens... he surely hopes his eyes are working correctly lest he needs contact lens, or glasses for that matter. either way he'll positively be as beautiful as he ever was.

although he's very pleased that someone notices the extent of your beauty, there are... other ways to express fondness admiration for you, and vil just can't respect someone who doesn't seem to have any shame for themselves for pressing on boundaries.

so this... fool clearly is a mere taint on your image!!! rid of them immediately! you needn't dirty your pretty mouth, rook does love cleansing the world of dirt like them so it's for the better good if they just never dare to appear to your face ever again.

what better way to hurt someone than aim for their pride? *trash talks so good about their attitude that they actually be pondering their life choices*

don't get him wrong. he doesn't like them, like at all. vil can full well do more damage by nit picking details about them they probably aren't even aware of but he'd never willingly give another person a reason to be insecure about themselves, even if they did terrible things.

plus, there's better ways to teach someone a lesson. they'll learn.

who wouldn’t be scared of an angry vil? they scampered away pretty quickly from a few words, even quicker when he mentioned rook but it's their problem to be paranoid whether the hunter is following them or not to be honest.

frets over you right after. living the dream.

[yvaineseleneposts]

We never talk about it

Requested: no

A/N: based on the song Sharpest tool by Sabrina Carpenter

Pairing: Nico Hischier x reader

Words: around 1k

Warning(s): a little sad story

It started with a simple text. A "Hey" on a random Tuesday. Nico always did that—showed up when I was just starting to move on, like some ghost from the past refusing to be exorcised.

I stared at my phone, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. Ignore him. You don’t need to go through this again. But, like every other time, I gave in.

"Hey," I replied, knowing damn well where this was going to lead.

We had been something once—something undefined, something thrilling, something that left me constantly second-guessing. I met his friends, laughed at their stupid inside jokes, and even spent nights tangled in his sheets. But then, just like that, he’d disappear. He’d act like none of it ever mattered. Like I didn’t matter.

I should have known better.

"You know you’re not the sharpest tool in the shed, right?" I teased one night, lying on his couch, his arm lazily draped over me. His phone face down on the couch next to him. He said it was just a habit, but I knew better. I just never wanted to admit it.

Nico laughed, shaking his head. "Wow, way to boost my confidence."

"Hey, I’m just saying. You forget things easily. One second, we're good, and then—poof—you’re gone."

He didn’t respond. He just pressed a soft kiss to my temple and changed the subject. That was the thing about Nico. He never wanted to talk about it.

And then one day, he took a left. Out of nowhere, he was gone. Again. No explanation. Just radio silence.

___

A week turned into a month. The empty texts and late-night calls that used to fill my phone became just…nothing. I didn’t hear a word until the guilt crept in—until he decided to send a soft, "Hey" as if he hadn’t just shattered me.

I should have ignored it.

But I didn’t.

"What do you want, Nico?" I finally asked after weeks of keeping my emotions bottled up.

"I—I don’t know," he admitted.

And that was the worst part. He didn’t know. He never knew. And I was an idiot for thinking he ever would. I spent so much time trying to decipher him, trying to find meaning in the spaces between his words, in the pauses between his texts.

Did he miss me? Did he ever care? Or was I just something to pass the time?

The worst part was, I could never ask. We never talked about it. Because if we talked about it, we’d have to face it. And Nico wasn’t ready for that.

___

I found out through a friend.

"He was at his ex’s place last night." That single sentence made my stomach drop. It shouldn’t have hurt. He wasn’t mine. He never was. But it did.

"Did he say anything about me?" I asked, hating myself for even caring.

She hesitated. "He…he said he found God."

I let out a humorless laugh. "At his ex’s house?"

She shrugged. "I don’t know, maybe he’s just trying to figure things out." Figure things out. Right. That was always his excuse.

___

It happened overnight. One day, I was the person he turned to when he was lost, when he needed someone to anchor him. The next, I was the villain in his story.

His silence was the loudest thing I had ever heard. I tried to talk to him, to get some kind of closure. But he wouldn’t let me.

I opened up to him. Told him things I never told anyone. And he made me believe he cared. Then he logged out. Disappeared. Left me dumbfounded. And still, we never talked about it.

___

The silence was a strategy, I realized. Because no matter how much time passed, he was still there. Top of mind. Always.

I hated him for that. Hated myself more for letting him hold that power over me. But I wasn’t going to waste another year wondering if it meant something to him. If I was just another casual mistake. I wasn’t going to be an idiot anymore. So I finally did what I should have done a long time ago.

I let him go. And this time, I didn’t look back.

Months passed, and the ache dulled. It didn’t disappear, but it became manageable.

Every now and then, I'd check my phone, half-expecting a message. But I stopped hoping.

One day, I ran into him at a coffee shop. He looked at me, eyes wide, like he had seen a ghost. I nodded, a polite acknowledgment, and walked past him.

For the first time, I didn’t feel the urge to talk to him.

Maybe we never talked about it, but I had my answer now.

Some things don’t need to be said. Some stories don’t need an ending.

They just…end.

[that-one-unfunny-hoe]

Okay it's been two days since Monday RAW and i have opinions lmao.

1. Who the fuck let Jey Uso free out of the zip ties, that is important question. Because one minute Jey is tied up like he’s in a true crime documentary and the next minute… he’s just gone?? No explanation?? No “oh someone helped him” cutaway?? Just poof, off-screen Houdini escape. Did the power of YEET just melt the plastic??? I need answers lmao.

Scary Man™ (aka demon-coded, unbothered menace) Zip ties Jey to the ropes like he's in a Saw movie, beats the life out of Jimmy in front of him, smears himself in Jimmy’s blood like it’s a tribal ritual, Jey’s screaming, helpless, bound, witnessing a literal horror scene

AND THEN WWE’S LIKE:

“Anyway… here’s Logan Paul

Honestly, zip tie Logan Paul next. Keep him backstage.

Put it on Netflix. Call it a special.

“WWE Raw: Silence of the Logans”

It’s giving “we ran out of runtime, just roll with it.”

Poor Jey probably still zip tied to the ring post as we speak.

Jimmy’s whereabouts? Unknown. Possibly still leaking.

Scary Guy? Probably in catering, still bloody, eating chicken tenders like nothing happened.

Because the SILENCE from them has been louder than Roman’s entrance music.

Like bro… are you okay??? Did someone at least untie Jey or is he still hanging backstage with one Air Force 1 missing??

2. Dom can barely tie his boots without Liv’s approval and Finn is out here praying no one remembers he used to be terrifying in 2016. And somehow… they win. I love it. Good for them tbh

3. Tell me why Bianca was counting like she was on dial-up internet every time Rhea had IYO pinned, but the second IYO did anything, suddenly she’s Miss Fast & Furious Ref Edition? She got Yeeted, saw stars for a second, then laid there thinking,

“If I just… stay down… no pin can be counted...”

FULL VILLAIN ORIGIN MOVE.

4. Honestly, if I were Rhea I’d burn the whole women’s division down and challenge Roman at this point. Give her the Undisputed title. She earned it more than half the roster.

Im not well. Also is Jimmy Uso okay? Is he alive?

[evilcarmona]

Fem!Sokka AU

So, I thought a little about this AU.

(For starters, I don't speak english, so, well.. ehe)

To begin with, she is at least 19-20 years old. I would like to make her older, because I like to draw beautiful adult women, but then the plot will not work. The age of all older ATLA teenagers has been raised. The age of the younger ones does not change.

The story is the same. Initially, Sokka is a man. He probably remained the only boy in the tribe for longer. This may affect Katara, as he has been her parent figure for longer than in the canon. In general, I believe in Sokka's parental vibes.

He's also a little more mature. Responsible, strong. But still a sexist. Father said that he was the only warrior of the tribe. Then he left them and went away with other men for many years. It couldn't end well. On the other hand, living among women affects Sokka more than he thinks.

So, about after Kiyoshi Island, gaang stops at the shrine of a female warrior. This is not Kyoshi, because I don't want Aang to feel that he is indirectly to blame for the situation. In general, Sokka offends the spirit with some kind of sexist comment. The Spirit takes revenge and curses him. Sokka falls into a magic pond. Poof! He's a woman. Aang has talked to the spirit, and the spirit is ready to cast spells on the water in the pond again. But she won't do it for two years. Lol

So, Sokka can only put up with it. Saving the world is more important than a little curse. Somewhere in the background, Zuko is trying to figure out where gaang took this beautiful woman and where they put that beautiful man. Really, where did he go? (Uncle Iroh is very funny)

The fact is that during the journey, Sokka realizes that he actually feels good. He likes it. In addition, he likes to be beautiful and do hairstyles.

Besides, becoming a woman, he feels the injustice of the situation at the north Pole more acutely. Sokka understands that putting someone in a frame because of gender is unfair. He and Yue become friends. Sokka kicks Khann's ass. And he also kills Zhao before the disaster with the Moon happens. Yue deserves to live.

In the future, Sokka thinks a lot. He supports his sister and Toph more than anyone. In fact, he used to have his father's vibes. Now it's the mother's vibes. Vibes of the coolest mom in the world. She can cut off the offenders' heads with a halberd. Literally.

In fact, I have nothing to justify the halberd with. I love halberds as much as I love women in sexy dresses. A lady may have small hobbies)

Okay, maybe Sokka decided to explore more weapons. She loves her boomerang, but does not refuse to develop like a warrior. Halberd is clearly defeating bending, haha. Maybe Sokka will be given some cool nickname on the battlefield. The Moon Witch? Heh

(Somewhere far away, Hakoda and the South Pole fleet are wondering what kind of Moon Witch is this? They will be surprised)

Perhaps before they meet after Ba Sing Se, Hakoda meets someone who has met the gaang before. Someone: You have two wonderful daughters! Hakoda: What?

So Zuko comes to gaang and asks where the boy has gone. The explanation was awkward because Zuko barely had time to accept that he was bi. What does it mean that the two people who make his heart beat faster are one person?

I forgot to tell you! Just because Sokka was bewitched by a spirit doesn't mean that Sokka trusts Aunt Wu! It's a matter of pride, lol

So two years go by, and you know what? Sokka does not ask the spirit to lift the curse. He's fine as it is.

[razzberrycorner]

ginger hcs?? :33 /nf

WE'RE BACK ON TRACK W DS ONE🗣️🗣️

~🍪💕~

LER! GINGER

Gentle woman. Somehow gentler than Bobette.

Rlly chill as a ler (she will destroy you)

But sadly, she is also a reindeer chef.

Dictionary definition of reindeer chef: individual who targets a certain reindeer in more than 18 ways of cookery.

^ Source: Bobette (iykyk, they target him a lot plus she taught her the ways™)

Targets Cosmo the most. Because cousins.

^ And her friends too

Likes being a participant in the action (restraining, helping, yk the drill)

Uses compliments more than teases.

Incredibly persistent. She will not give up until you are thoroughly tickled and you receive the dose of tickles that you were destined to receive.

^ It is because of this that you will never escape from her and she will always find you. Run and hide all you can, but she will reach you eventually. There is no escape from her. Now get on the floor and accept your fate.

Has a tendency of using compliments more than teases.

does not use compliments when it is a certain reindeer however. She uses teases instead

she has an evil side that only exists when she is targetting said reindeer.

But back to her nice side, she is so sweet

"Your laugh sounds so cute!" -the type of stuff she does. "Aww, you're so cute when you're moving like that!" Etc etc etc.

and she enjoys when her lee just... ceases to exist bc of it

^ Loves it sm.

Also sometimes she thinks she is decorating a cookie (she likes to do that)

"Here comes the icing!" *She then proceeded to go all over the lee's tummy.*

Not a raspberry user

LEE! GINGER

so cooked like oh my god

every time Bobette calls out like "ohh giiingeeer~" it's GG

this lady is such a lee that words ALONE cannot manage to explain how lee she is

biggest lee to ever lee and be lee

Will hold it in. Jk she will die .05 secs in

but can hold it in sometimes. She'll break eventually though...

shy lee shy shy shy shy lee

like so shy

Used for interrogation tickles. Don't ask questions.

She has a quieter laugh than normal

Like hushed.

worst spot is her sides. Target there and poof she dissapears

she becomes a flushed, flustered, giggly mess once you get her good

^ source: Bobette, Rudie

Compliments get her way more than teases do for some reason

^ There is no explanation for why, they just do.

One tease and she tries to shove you off like any lee would. Compliments, however...

"Your laugh is so cute!" ←DUDE SHE IS GONE💀💀💀

not much of a squirmer, she just sits there and accepts her fate

However she blushes a whole lot.

she is literally so red after that

^ Everyone in the freaking Christmas group calls her cherry colored cookie because of that.

Has to redo her makeup after that

raspberries do as much as merely exist and she is absolutely gone.

~🍪💕~

Falel obver

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

It just hit me that the boys all have graves somewhere... Do you think they've gone there? Has Julie? How do they feel about how and where they were buried?

sorry this took so long to respond to! I'm not sure if you meant it as a writing prompt or just a point of discussion.... but i wrote 2500 words on it anyway. Hope you enjoy!

Special thanks to @weneedglitter for her math and naming assistance :)

Send me prompts to help me reach my 2024 writing goal!

It’s sort of an accident, at the beginning. Reggie doesn’t mean to be looking.

He doesn’t really mean to be looking for anything, even if he sounded really suspicious and like he was a total lying liar face when he told Julie and the guys he was just “going for a stroll.” But honestly, it’s a coincidence more than anything that his stroll takes him to the bike rental place on the beachfront that used to be his house. And it’s a coincidence that the pimpled teen working the counter has that day’s mail laid out in front of him for all the world to see. And it’s a coincidence that in said pile of mail is a letter from Evergreen Cemetery addressed to “Archibald Peters or Current Resident.”

He doesn’t actually read the letter (his invisibility these days is spotty at best, and he doesn’t think committing felony mail theft would be much smarter of an idea than making an envelope float in mid-air anyway). He doesn’t know that the letter has anything more to say than “Hey you, know any dead people? Send ‘em our way!”

He doesn’t know it has anything to do with him.

But he goes home anyway— because home is Julie’s house, now— and slides Carlos’s laptop out of its super functional hiding place under his pillow, and looks up the address for Evergreen Cemetery.

And then he poofs into the kitchen and says, “Ray? Will you drive me somewhere?”

The car ride is quiet, mostly because Ray said, “You wanna tell me where we’re going?” when they got in the car, and Reggie said, “Mmhmm!” all high-pitched and obvious, and then never elaborated, and so trying to make other conversation seems rude. He just gives directions, and hums along to the radio, and Ray drives them to the cemetery where Reggie’s pre-ghost body may or may not be buried.

That’s the weirdest part of all of this. Not the mail theft or the bike shop or the idea that Reggie’s parents might have put him somewhere other than the Peters Family plot in Orange County where his grandparents and Great Aunt Barb are buried, but the fact that there is a body, very much dead and scientifically identifiable as his, lying under six feet of dirt somewhere.

He has a body. Now, currently, in most ways even an alive one. And yeah, he’s worked pretty damn hard to get this one, but it still feels really weird that there’s just another one… out there.

“Reggie?” Ray asks as he slows the car along the gravel driveway of the cemetery. “What…?”

He doesn’t finish his question, which is probably a good thing because Reggie’s not sure he has an answer. “Could you…?” he asks instead, staring down at his hands in his lap so he won’t have to look Ray in the eye. “Um. Would you maybe mind going in there and asking if… or, uh, where…” 

He trails off, unable to finish his own question either.

Ray makes a soft sound, somewhere between a hum and a sigh, and nods once before giving Reggie a comforting pat on the knee and getting out of the car.

He’s in there a long time. Long enough for Reggie to get all squirmy and start to feel bad for dragging him into this.

He can only imagine the conversation going on in there: Hi, can you please point me to the grave of a seventeen-year-old who died twenty-five years ago? No, no, I’m not related to him, nor do I have any legitimate connection to him that I can offer you as an explanation for why I’m asking. Please do not ask any follow-up questions.

Jeez. What was Reggie even thinking bringing Ray all the way out here, just on a hunch? As soon as he gets back to the car, Reggie should just tell him to take them back home.

But it’s only a few minutes later that the office door opens and Ray emerges, a piece of paper in one hand. He shakes hands with an older white guy— the manager, Reggie guesses, or whatever the term is for people in charge of the little office at a cemetery— and then heads back over to Reggie.

He gets back in the car, shuts the door, and sits heavily in the driver’s seat without buckling his seat belt or shifting the car out of park. Reggie opens his mouth to say something, closes it again. Shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Ray hands him the piece of paper. “You tell me what you wanna do, mijo.”

It’s a list— of names and plots, next to a handy-dandy little map of the cemetery. Three are highlighted— Reginald Peters. Alexander Mercer. Lucas Patterson.

Reggie shivers, the edges of the paper crinkling in his tight grip. “These are… Jeez. We’re all here?”

“Seems so.” Ray puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It was sort of a long shot, but I figured I’d ask while I was in there.”

Reggie stares at his name— at his friends’ names— just three lines on a list of ghosts.

He points at the plot number next to his name. “Guess we’re going here then?”

It’s not a far walk. Reggie leads the way, squinting at the map, while Ray follows politely behind. Ray doesn’t berate him or even comment when they get lost, and Reggie only gets them lost three and a half times. Eventually, they find it: a modest tombstone in a far corner of the graveyard, neatly kept with a still-fresh bouquet of lilies propped up against it.

The tombstone reads:

Reginald Alastair Peters

August 18, 1977– July 22, 1995

Beloved Son

Loving Brother

Cherished Bandmate

“Oh,” Reggie whispers, reaching out a tentative hand to touch the last line of lettering. He can’t imagine his parents choosing to spend extra money on that particular engraving, not without some serious coercion, but the only other option is…

“Someone’s been here recently,” Ray says, voice reverent and yet too loud, all of a sudden, in the otherwise silence. He reaches around Reggie to pick up the flowers and place them gently atop the headstone. “So your parents might still live nearby.”

“Maybe,” Reggie whispers, though he highly doubts his parents had anything to do with the bouquet. With effort, he tears his gaze away from his grave and down to the map in his hands. “Um. Can we–?”

He cuts off, swallowing against the lump in his throat, and instead points wordlessly at the plot numbers for his two best friends.

“Of course.” Ray puts a hand on his shoulder– warm, solid, reassuring– and takes the map with the other. “May I?”

Reggie lets it go with relief and wipes his sweaty hands on his pants. The walk between graves will give him a good chance to clear his head, and he’s way too distracted to follow a map without getting them lost way more than three and a half times.

But Ray only takes a few steps before he stops and frowns down at the map. He looks up again, turns a slow circle, and walks just a few feet before stopping again, the map falling to his side. “Oh. Well.”

Reggie goes to see what he’s looking at, and his breath catches in his throat.

There’s a good bit of space between them, but the next tombstone over from Reggie’s belongs to Alex. He continues down the line, and sure enough, the next one down from that is Luke’s.

They’re all distinctly different– Luke’s is the biggest of the three, Alex’s has a Bible quote snaked along the side– but they’re all adorned with fresh flowers, and they all have the same phrase tacked onto the end of their epitaphs:

Cherished Bandmate.

Cherished Bandmate.

Cherished Bandmate.

A cold feeling seeps through Reggie’s bones, not unlike the time he and Luke were playing hide and seek and he won by curling up inside the refrigerator.

“I think I wanna go home now,” Reggie says slowly, feeling shivery and stuck and ghostly in the worst way as he stands at the point of the triangle of his and his best friends’ graves.

“Of course,” Ray says, his voice muffled like he’s speaking through water or from very far away. “I’ll go get the car.”

But Reggie’s already poofed out.

***

He doesn’t intend to bring it up again. Because he’s not entirely sure Luke and Alex would want to know. And the last thing he wants to do is assume his friends are at the same place on the same journey regarding their life, death, and rebirth as he is.

He doesn’t want to hurt their feelings if he’s wrong about his theory. He doesn’t want to make them sad if he’s right.

But apparently Reggie’s not as good at concealing his own feelings as he’d like to think– even though Ray doesn’t say anything, and Julie at least seems convinced by Reggie’s “we were running errands” story, less than two days has gone by when she informs him that the jig is, in fact, up.

He’s sitting cross-legged on the couch in the studio, eating a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream very slowly because Ray made him promise he wouldn’t drip any on the sofa cushions.

Alex is out skateboarding with Willie. Luke is out “chaperoning” (read: mooching off of) Carlos and his friends’ laser tag party. Julie was ostensibly doing homework, which is why Reggie had taken his ice cream out to the garage, but now the doors open and Julie bounds in to join him, plopping next to him on the couch with a warm (if slightly mischievous) smile.

“Hey there, you,” she says expressively, poking him in the arm.

Reggie blinks, slowly drawing the spoon out of his mouth. “Hi, Julie.”

“We both know I’m not very good at beating around the bush,” she says, hands in her lap, “so I’m just gonna cut to the chase. The boys tell me you’re sad, and while at first I tried to convince them that maybe just not everyone thinks the 2002 Scooby-Doo movie is as funny as they do and that’s why you were a little quiet during movie night, the more I thought about it the more I agreed that you haven’t been your usual amazing chipper self… lately… So, uh. You know. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“I know,” Reggie says, nodding, because he does know, and clutches his bowl of ice cream to his chest for some comfort. “I, um… I’m not… sad, I just… Okay, so you know how your dad and I ran some errands the other day and I came back early because I didn’t wanna have to listen to his sad Dad Rock the whole drive home and he didn’t have a single good CD in the car?”

Julie nods.

“Well, I actually sorta made all that up. We went to see where the guys and I are buried.”

Julie’s face falls, her eyes going wide. “Oh. Wow.”

“And I didn’t say anything,” Reggie continues, “because I didn’t really know how I felt about it yet. And I didn’t know how Luke and Alex would feel. I didn’t know if they’d wanna know.”

“Of course we would, bro.”

Reggie felt the spark alighting in his chest a split second before Luke spoke, so the sudden arrival of his friends doesn’t startle him. He ducks his chin, staring into his ice cream so he doesn’t have to see if they’re mad at him.

“Reggie…” Julie puts a hand on his knee. “You didn’t do anything wrong– this is a really complicated situation to navigate. It’s just… we didn’t even know you were looking.”

“I wasn’t,” Reggie promises, but he doesn’t know how to explain himself beyond that. He sets his bowl down on the coffee table and slowly raises his eyes to meet his friends’ gazes. “We’re all together. The three of us, our– we’re not buried with our families.”

Luke’s and Alex’s faces go through several expressions before settling on twin looks of determination. “Good,” Luke says. “That’s how it should be.”

“Will you go back with us?” Alex asks. “Take a look all together?”

In the moment that Reggie hesitates, Julie takes his hand in hers and gives it a warm, reassuring squeeze.

Reggie takes a deep breath, feeling it whistle through live, healthy lungs, and reaches out his other hand. Luke takes it and offers his hand to Alex, who joins hands with Luke and Julie to complete the circle. When the ghosts who aren’t quite ghosts anymore poof out, they carry Julie with them, until all four members of Julie and the Phantoms stand solemn but supported in front of Reggie’s grave.

They take it in. The epitaph. The flowers, a bit crumpled from yesterday’s rain but nowhere near wilting. The edge of Alex’s headstone just visible in their peripheral vision, and Luke’s just beyond it.

“We are all together,” Alex says in awe. 

Luke shakes his head. “Why would our parents–?”

A voice behind them says, “I insisted.”

They spin around. Reggie didn’t hear anyone approaching, and yet standing just a few feet back, dark sunglasses obscuring his expression, is Trevor Wilson, three bunches of fresh wildflowers tucked in the crook of his arm.

He nods toward the grave behind them. “They were gonna take you halfway across the state, and the Mercers wanted Alex cremated, and I wasn’t even invited to the funerals but I pitched a fit. Told them I’d pay for everything– the plots, the services, the upkeep– if only they’d keep you all… intact. And together.”

Reggie’s heart does an Olympics-worthy gymnastics routine inside his chest. “You added the bandmate line?” he guesses.

Trevor shrugs a little sheepishly. “I snuck it in on the paperwork. Don’t think Luke’s dad ever forgave me.”

“Yeah, well, my dad can–” Luke starts to say, and then trails off, shoving his hands in his pockets so it’s a little less obvious that they’re curled into fists. His voice is strained but sincere when he says, “Thanks, Bobby. For doing all that.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

With some hesitation, Trevor steps forward and past them, to lay one bouquet at the foot of Reggie’s headstone.

It feels right, for them all to be there together, paying homage to the people they once were.

Reggie’s glad he found this place, even if it was sort of an accident.

--

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[descendantsconfessions]

Lonnie and family was done dirty by Descendants. Like she had lots of potential but it’s clear that Descendants doesn’t know what to do with her.

You're so right Lonnie had so much potential, and Descendants absolutely dropped the ball with her. She’s the daughter of Mulan and Li Shang literal legends and yet they sidelined her after the first movie like she didn’t matter. Like… she’s a warrior, she's kind, she's smart, she's loyal and she chose to stand with the VKs when so many others judged them.

In Descendants 2, she steps up, demands a spot on the sword-fighting team (and is better than most of the guys there), but by Descendants 3… she's just gone. No explanation. Nothing.

They could’ve explored her journey as a warrior princess, her pressure to live up to Mulan’s legacy, maybe even a love interest arc or deeper friendship with the VKs especially Jay, since they had chemistry and he needed a meaningful arc too. But instead… poof. Vanished.

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Do you agree ?

The more I read and really think about it? The more I'm like "technically yeah" than an actual hard yeah because while I get it's a meme and stuff the things presented can be half truths:

Doom Guy yes 100% in green (except for optional skins in the modern games that doesn't really count) Link 99% green 1% being blue in botw/totk (who also has costumes in those games and therefore also doesn't count)

"Never talks" isn't correct as both have canonically talked, with Doom Guy it's much more explicit and you hear him in Doom Eternal and TDA, with Link you don't outright hear him but he does speak through dialog prompts since ocarina of time and more modern games have given a canonical explanations why recent iterations are selectivity mute like this. So it's not "Never talks" but rarely talks or what I like to interpret as only talks when it's important.

"Intended to symbolize the player" used to be the case for Link in the very older games, Doom Guy has had an established backstory since 1993 but it did I guess have some wiggle room to insert yourself in but 2016 came and wiped that potential insertion away. They've had their own unique identities for years now. They are not self inserts.

This is where they're different, Link is different a different person each time, only rarely getting more than one initial adventure through direct sequels - Doom Guy is the Doom Slayer and Doom Slayer is the Doom Guy, with the exception of Doom 3 (people can fight me on that idc) he has basically been the same person in the games since 1993. With Link it's reincarnation of stepping to your destiny over and over again while with Doom Guy it's: "I punched my CO once and now I'm fighting Cthulhu."

Yeah.

Most monsters are considered "demons" in Zelda I guess but not all of them, some things are clearly just plain nature in natural habitats defending itself and its territory. In Doom they are explicitly just demons or things equally in the realm of fucked.

No. Besides some finishing moves on bosses (mostly Ganon/dorf) Link has nothing on Doom's glory kills.

Big pocket brothers.

In Zelda things just poof into smoke so no blood baths. Rip and Tear is Doom's mantra.

I mean, Link is in a Nintendo game so I don't know what you're expecting anything actually sexual there but Link is very respectful of every woman he meets, especially Zelda (🥰 ) and is always at her defense no matter what and which in skyward sword and botw/totk is very very clear in your face that they have something romantic going on through context clues than being outright stated (because Nintendo are cowards) In Doom given its a M rated franchise its different because they could've gone there (be a Duke Nukem) and given he's such a badass had him have many love interests and have him having sex all of the time but they haven't which is based, in The Dark Ages they could've easily done that with Commander Thira but Hugo Martin confirmed that things between her and the Slayer are pure platonic meaning their interactions in the game are nothing but just pure respect and honestly? I like that approach more with them than a tacked on romance it would've been with the series first woman that isn't in a antagonist role who has her own arc learning how to control her abilities and the Slayer respects her. Being respectful to women and more focused on slaughtering demons is cool👍

Everyone is legally obligated to play ocarina of time and Doom 2 Right now.

Either way they are cool and based 🗣

Thank you for the ask 🫶

[dinnerbug]

(attention humans I am not a fan of any creators associated with the mentioned fandom anymore, I stopped watching them years ago and do not support any of the bad things they may have done or said since then. creators are talked about only for the context of a cool concept/headcanon I saw. I know this is all unnecessary but I just want it to be clear. Also mutuals if you're seeing this pls don't feel like you have to put up explanations like this too I just overthink <3)

so excuse my early 2020s but I remember back then when minecraft manhunt was kinda in its prime there was all the fan stuff and blah blah blah and basically there was a certain point in time where like 2 thirds of the animatics and everything depicted this concept of using of things like strength potions too much over time increasing aggression (usually depicted as a cause for all the killing of friends Green Man did during the manhunts) that I found really cool and I really feel like that idea died off before it could really be explored fully. This idea was so prevalent especially in animatics and then it just. Dissappeared. Poof. Gone. And it honestly makes me quite sad because that's SUCH an interesting thing to think about, the way frequent use of different potions can leave lasting effects on a player over time, and there was this massive fandom who picked up on that idea and had it woven into everything they made, but then they all suddenly just forgot about it for some unknown reason. It's at this point I wish I could animate or write to explore that concept further with other mcyt fandoms because it'd be so so interesting and would make for some really good fanfic opportunities honestly. Insert end of ramble here because it felt too abrupt and can't think of anything to put

[sp00ky-scary]

It's 2am and I've been working on an Ever After High rewrite/reboot something or other here's my attempt to make an explanation for why the step mother step daughter relationship between the Evil Queen and Snow White doesn't exist (it's really long so I put the read more thing)

So like a few generations back one of the Evil Queen's like didn't have a kid or had a kid really late in life or something (if somebody with a destiny doesn't have a kid then the destiny is magically assigned to someone born into a similar life as the child would've been, same logic as how the Charming families have kids who gets random destinies) and so the next girl destined to be the Evil Queen was like close in age to the girl destined to be Snow White. So when their story played out instead of the Evil Queen being Snow White's step mother she was sort of in like an advisory position I guess (? idk shit about the monarchy) and got to be Queen when Snow White's father passed away because she was of age and Snow was not so like she wouldn't be crowned until she was of age.

Anyway a few generations later Ever After High exists to keep those with destinies on the right track after one too many bad things happen to certain stories (along with this comes the spreading of the belief that if you don't follow your destiny you and everyone in your story go poof). Like 2 or 3 generations have gone through the school and now it's Apple and Raven's generation, and by this point the Evil Queen and Snow White are often the same age or only a few years apart and the destiny of the Evil Queen has evolved from step mother to close "advisor" and Queen is less of an actual position she has and just a remnant of the stories past (although within the story she does have political power for a while).

Also a note just because of how the story cycle works and to explain all the important stories happening at similar times there's sort of like a cycle of those with destinies being around the same age. UNLESS someone is supposed to be older in which case they're technically from the previous generation but their destiny doesn't occur till the next generation fulfills theirs if that makes sense. So like the Sea Witch from the Little Mermaid is older so in Meeshells case the Sea Witch that will be in her story is like her parents age not the Sea Witch she goes to school with. Also some destinies are kinda complicated e.g. Cinderella becomes the next Cinderella's mum when she has a kid, so like she fulfills the destiny of Cinderella and then when it's time for the next Cinderella (her child) to follow their destiny she fulfills the role of Cinderella's mother (who dies) which is technically a part of of fulfilling your first destiny but they don't really talk about that part, (there's a lot of mums who are supposed to die which is difficult to figure out the logic). So basically everyone with destinies is born within less than a decade of eachother and then when they're all in their late 20s-early 30s and have completed their destinies (unless having kids is also a part of it) they have kids who are the next gen of fairytale characters. And obviously there are like common people born inbetween, a few lesser known stories happen, Ever After High takes commoner students (they have to pay) especially during the like gaps between a lot of stories taking place. (Don't ask how Sleeping Beauty works with all this I need to work it out still) (Also don't ask why Snow White is alive if Snow White's mother dies, she needs to be around in the story but I can't figure out why she hasn't died for Apples story, idk maybe it's so supposed to happen once Apple has signed and then completed schooling, alternatively maybe the stories evolved so Snow White's mother doesn't actually die and just gets locked away by the Evil Queen so that she can gain power) (Trying to make Ever After High make sense is really hard okay (still makes more sense than literally anything happening in Descendants though)) (Sorry if this is explained poorly I'm stupid).

I'll figure out like more destinies and the logistics of them later this was initially just to explain why the Evil Queen is no longer Snow White's step mother idk why I went on a whole tangent.

[about-faces]

I'm still loving Gotham Nocturne and I wish it was getting the love/respect/attention is deserves. I've spoken several people who haven't been reading the current Detective Comics run because they're Batmanned Out (good lord, do I get it) and they see it as just another attempt at some kind of "ultimate Batman story with Batman fighting the ultimate evil," which I strongly disagree with.

THAT SAID... as time has gone on, and the story seems to be reaching its finale, there are a few things that stand out of me as problems with this epic storyline.

1.) It's one of the most egregious examples of "writing for the trade paperback." This simply isn't a story that's meant to be read month-to-month. It's too slow, with too little "happening," at least on the superficial level. Paradoxically, it's NOT a story that should be binged! The best comparison that comes to mind is Better Call Saul, since that's the only other example of serialized media that's meticulously slow-paced yet INCREDIBLY RICH for those willing to engage with it on its level rather than expecting it to be Breaking Bad (or in Nocturne's case, a typical Batman story.) Ram V is capable of writing super-engaging monthly issues, as the fantastic Rare Flavours proves, but that brings us to...

2.) The story is sprawling. Maybe even TOO sprawling. When it comes to people who are sick of Batman, I try to sell them on the fact that this story is about GOTHAM AS A WHOLE, right down to the villains who call it home, and how everyone there is as intrinsically a part of Gotham as Batman is. But ensemble stories like that are tricky, and it makes the focus feel all over the place at times, with alternately too much and too little attention being paid to the main players, Batman included. It's a balance that was handled beautifully with Batman: The Audio Adventures, but it seems a bit more awkward here. Again, it's hard to pull off!

Like, we have characters pop up and then vanishing without explanation. We got Azrael back in the AzBats armor for the first time in decades, like, holy shit! That should be a HUGE development! And then, poof, he vanished! There's simply no time to explore Jean-Paul's character because there's so many other things the narrative needs to explore.

This feels like it would have really benefited from a companion series, something to focus on the characters the way the backup stories have done, but just more so. I think about how Peter Tomasi would write companion books to the main big storylines written by Geoff Johns, Grant Morrison, and Scott Snyder, and how he'd focus on character, which always enriched the greater "big important storyline." Which, in turn, also brings me to...

3.) The backup stories have really lost a lot of their punch since they stopped being written by Si Spurrier and were taken over by Dan Watters. Watters is incredibly capable, make no mistake, and his Cheshire/Lian Harper story is one of my favorite parts of this entire saga. But by and large, his tales focus more on the spooky and weird sides of what's happening with Nocturne, whereas Spurrier's stories were more focused on characters navigating the weirdness of the events. As a result, Spurrier gave us what I consider to be some of the very best stories about Jim Gordon, Harvey Dent, and Victor Fries ever written. I really miss those, and how they enriched Ram V's (possibly overly-ambitious) narrative.

Ultimately, Gotham Nocturne feels like the Batman equivalent to an arthouse film, which means it's going to be appreciated by a handful of nerds while leaving most other fans cold, and I can't really blame them. If anything makes me sad about all this, it's how all this incredible character work with Bruce, Harvey, Victor, Talia, and others is going to be ignored. Hell, it already is, given the complete lack of acknowledgement we've seen in other Bat-books for what's going on in Nocturne.

At this point, I just hope it sticks the landing in the finale, because I want to be able to have a complete, satisfying epic to recommend to people who want something a bit richer than the typical "guy in Bat costume punches clown" stories we usually get.