#so we're still on draft one

[cloudwhisper23]

Trick or treat ✨ฅ(•ㅅ•❀)ฅ

Depends on your interpretation of a treat, Pix. You get an excerpt.

The new school was interesting, at least in Chris’ opinion. Sure, people still gawked at his scar all the time, but it was so much better than where he was before. His English teacher immediately assigned reading partners, explaining that discussing the readings was just as important as drawing conclusions individually.

Chris glanced at his reading partner with disinterest. Her name was Millie Fitzsimmons, and she did not speak sign language. Her last name reminded him of Jeremy, which was the only reason he bothered to take an interest in her at all.

She was staring right back at him, seeming very interested in his dyed hair and scarred face. Chris didn’t take it personally. He did look interesting to an outside observer. His hair hadn’t really grown back yet either.

Millie leaned toward him as she spoke, “So, Chris. What types of books do you like to read?”

Chris tapped his pencil against his notebook for a moment, considering her question. His mother’s house had a wider selection of novels, and since she was gone all the time – albeit seeming more apologetic than his father or sister had been – he was allowed full access to her bookshelves.

Chris wondered if she was the reason his father’s house had absolutely no books or interesting material. It explained a lot, especially after he’d found his own name scribbled in the front cover of several books. He determined that they were definitely above his age-range when he’d originally read them, probably explaining his nightmares.

Finally, he remembered that Millie was waiting for a response. He shrugged, writing, “A bit of everything, to be honest. I prefer short stories to anything else.”

He wished he could explain better. That he loved seeing how writers wrote such wonderful stories without needing a whole book or even a series to capture it all.

While Millie skimmed the words he’d written, Chris quickly added, “Poe’s my favorite author though.”

“The Cask of Amontillado” was Chris’ favorite story to read since the Bite. The implied betrayal and potential for the narrator’s guilt at having killed Fortunato was all too familiar to Chris.

“Edgar Allan Poe is your favorite author?” Millie raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed. “What’s your favorite work by him?”

Chris stared at her for a moment. Should he be completely honest? Truth be told, no one had tried to hold a conversation with him this long before. He gave a so-so gesture before writing, “If I have to pick one, I’d say ‘The Cask of Amontillado.’ What about you?”

She hummed for a moment. “I’d say… ‘Annabel Lee.’ The love shared between her and the speaker transcends heaven and hell, Chris. Isn’t that amazing?”

Chris shrugged. He found the poem depressing, truth be told. He couldn’t even imagine understanding what it could feel like to care for someone like that, only to lose them to others’ jealousy. But Jeremy would, a voice muttered in the back of his mind. He frowned slightly as that came up. It was private information, and whomever Jeremy chose to be with was none of his business.

Millie was carefully watching his expression, and she frowned back at him. “Do you hate romance or something?”

Chris shook his head. He wrote, “I just don’t get it.”

“Huh. Maybe you should read more,” Millie said, patting him gently on the shoulder as the bell rang for the end of class.

He decided he didn’t really like Millie, after that moment. Maybe it was something he should’ve blamed the Bite for instead of her overwhelming emotional attachment to a piece of poetry, but really. Did people actually develop obsessions with other people’s relationships?

Unfortunately, the rest of his morning didn’t go very well, and he found himself stuck eating lunch with Millie that day. And the next day, and the next day.

He didn’t understand how the entire school just decided they weren’t worth the effort of getting to know, and he expressed it in his letters to Fritz. Fritz would write back, saying the social circles must’ve closed before he was ready for it.

Chris always scowled after he read that. So eventually, he gave up, instead asking Fritz how Susie was doing. Funnily enough, his responses to that were much lighter and more cheerful. Fritz had succeeded in getting her to spend more time with him at lunch, and apparently, they ate together every day.

Fritz talked about how much she loved baking and how cool she found his ability to run. Fritz was excited about his friendship with Susie, and Chris was certain he wanted to push it further. If he’d had any advice for Fritz, he’d tell him to slow down and make sure they were close enough that their friendship could handle it if things went downhill. But Fritz was his best friend, so he just pretended to be happy for him.

The next week, he decided to be nicer to Millie about her whole thing with romance. “So,” he wrote in his notebook during lunch, something Millie never ate. “I’ve attempted to figure out what you mean by the transcending romance, and I just don’t get it.”

Millie frowned as he started eating. “Well,” she said with severe emphasis, “I prefer the stories where they’re willing to die for each other. When one dies for the other, you really see how things are. Like, depending on how they grieve, you can tell whether they actually loved each other, or if something was amiss.”

Chris considered that for a moment. “So if they don’t mourn properly, they don’t love each other?”

“Exactly.” Millie’s frown faded. “See, you kind of get it.”

Chris frowned. “Well, if that’s how it works, then my family probably would prefer if I was dead.”

Millie stiffened. “What?”

Chris shrugged. “I don’t mean my mom. I just mean that my dad and my sister probably couldn’t care less if I was alive. So I left to live with my mom.”

“Oh.” Millie blinked at him. “I thought you meant they’d try to kill you or something.”

“Well, someone actually did do that too,” Chris wrote. “But it was an accident.”

“You’re a strange guy, Chris.”

Chris just shrugged. He didn’t really care either way what she thought. Pointedly taking a bite of his sandwich, Chris successfully ended the conversation.

“Got any plans for winter break?” Millie asked him a few days later.

Chris considered the question for a moment, before shaking his head. “Fritz wants me to come visit, but I don’t particularly feel like going back there.”

Especially since Fritz was talking about all the kids who’d gone missing. Each time it happened, Fritz sent a letter dedicated to all the information he knew about the kid who’d gone missing. Every time, Chris could tell right away, and he’d put it in his desk, unread. Fritz wasn’t sending those for a response anyway. It was just a way to cope, or so Chris believed.

He sent letters back asking about school and Fritz’s relationship with Susie. Fritz constantly shot back encouragement to come visit and see for himself, but Chris didn’t think he was ready to go back.

[akiraal]

he got arrested :/

[wisteriagoesvroom]

manifesting chaos in the 2024 f1 season (wiz edition)

kudos to @keepthedelta for starting this idea way back when, theirs were hilarious

- jos verstappen and carlos sainz snr have an actual fistfight, but agree to do it on pay per view TV for maximal profit and impact. carlos snr wins only because he still has good core strength from driving endurance races and also he definitely does yogilates

- forced to get more sponsorship money, kick stake sauber drivers have to do an embarrassingly slutty ad for vitamin water. turns out valtteri and guan yu is very game for it and it actually goes super viral, but only in china

- FIA announces seoul gp 2026 and do an embarrassing eGames tie up as well as get nct's most junior division (most of them are 10 years old) to promote it for some reason. 2025 Charles leclerc finally makes his debut on MDC singing an slow-fi hip hop song with lots of air horns. it’s the one he co-wrote with lewis hamilton as an anthem for the ferrari team

- no more grill the grid. liberty media takes things to the next level and makes all the drivers do elimination games from squid game. drivers may be injured or perish. however as per FIA regs they are still expected to recover well enough to drive by the following sunday

- seb vettel returns but only for one race to drive a literal tractor across a field in austria to promote saving the bees

- alex albon is told he gets to move to red bull again except alex albon was busy taking some proper off time with his girlfriend during the summer so he misses the email and the tweets. by the time he catches up with the rumours, red bull have already musical chaired first liam lawson and then daniel ricciardo in the seat only to immediately take it back and give it to a fifteen year old who’s currently taking a nap in the rb junior academy room somewhere

- zak brown starts a new tie up with an aerospace company and andrea accidentally builds a rocket ship that blasts the papaya boys into space. lando and oscar do a livestream in the MCL38 parked on the side of an asteroid

- nico rosberg appears on a sky broadcast in a t-shirt that people swear lewis hamilton once wore, and it in fact may be the exact same one. neither of them comments on it at all

- otmar somehow returns and spends half his time instructing his drivers to try and chase / destroy that orange twink… i mean, car. somehow he will manage to run a team more embarrassingly than haas.

[reki-of-the-valley]

Through the Seasons

Read it here on ao3!

1 - Spring

Reki chews on the inside of his cheek as he watches Langa. His head is resting against Reki’s shoulder, blue hair tickling Reki’s cheek with every slight movement of his. And with every tickle, Reki finds himself staring, staring longer than what must be considered bro-appropriate. Until now, he’s never stared at one of his friends the way he was staring at Langa. Until now, he had never felt the urge to just stare, take in everything that is Langa, Langa who is prettier than any boy he’s ever seen. Prettier than girls too! Langa who is just… the prettiest.

Reki tears his eyes away, forcing himself to concentrate on the phone that’s propped up in front of him. He forces himself to look at the screen, but he can’t help the flickering of his eyes to the side, the quick glances at this best friend quite literally pressed to his side. Just quick glances; they don’t linger. And it’s only when Langa moves, snuggling closer. It’s only when Langa seems to be demanding his attention. Because there’s no way this isn’t on purpose. There’s no way Langa doesn’t know his every little movement has Reki staring. Or maybe it’s just a Canadian thing, the snuggling. Reki’s heard that they’re very friendly and affectionate there. He’s heard that cuddling is a great way to keep warm during the long and cold Canadian winters.

If someone were to ask Reki what was playing on Langa’s phone, he wouldn’t know what to answer. He’d probably just laugh nervously and answer “skateboarding,” more of a question than an answer. It wouldn’t be that farfetched of an answer, but he hasn’t been paying attention. Even when he forces his eyes away from the boy cuddled up against him in bed, thoughts of him fill Reki. Thoughts that make his heart race, face flushing. Thoughts that are not things one should associate with their best friend. Thoughts he didn’t exactly think were appropriate to share with the world.

Slowly, carefully, Reki lets his body soften against Langa’s. It’s a step-by-step process, the careful melting against Langa. It’s slow and deliberate, the straightness of his back slowly melting into a slouch. It’s careful and planned out, the pressing of his own head against Langa’s. Everything is calculated as if he’s testing the waters. That’s what he’s doing after all; he’s making sure that he’s not being weird and that he’s allowed to be as comfortable as Langa seems to be.

Muffled, indiscernible sounds leak out of Langa’s phone, but Reki can’t bring himself to focus on them. Even the screen itself seems blurry and distant. It’s not his fault; his eyes just can’t help going back to Langa. How is he supposed to focus on anything other than the prettiest boy he’s ever seen who’s now definitely cuddled up against him? How is he supposed to focus on anything other than the hand that’s innocently resting against his knee? How is he supposed to look at anything other than that silky blue hair that tickles his cheek, and those ocean eyes that seem filled with a sleepy haze? How is he supposed to pay attention to anything other than Langa?

The mattress shifts under the weight of the two boys, Langa burying himself even deeper into Reki’s side. And as his nose digs itself into Reki’s shoulder, Reki can’t help the hitch in his breath. He’s never had someone this close, not even the twins as they snuggle and fall asleep on him. He’s never had someone this vulnerable against him, someone who trusts him as wholeheartedly as Langa does. And the soft touch of the tip of Langa’s cold nose, it sends a shiver down Reki’s spine.

“Reki?”

His voice is faint, muffled against the thin cotton of Reki’s t-shirt. It’s smaller than it’s ever been, barely above a soft whisper. But it’s there and it’s heavy as Langa slowly lifts his head. Reki wishes Langa had stayed in the crook of his neck, but seeing the blue of Langa’s eyes sparkle under the dim light of the room, Reki can’t help the smile that blossoms across his lips. He can’t help smiling when Langa is there, looking at him. Who wouldn’t want to be looked at by Langa? A crazy person, for sure.

“Reki, I…”

His nose dives back into Reki’s shoulder. Maybe Reki hallucinated, but he could’ve sworn he saw a pink tint bloom across Langa’s cheeks. What could possibly have him that embarrassed? What could—?

The touch leaves sparks under Reki’s skin; the arms wrapping around his waist create an eruption of butterflies in his stomach. And the tilt of Langa’s head, the feeling of his nose, of his lips against the soft skin of his neck, lightness hazes Reki’s mind. Everything is wrong, everything is right. Nothing makes sense, everything is crystal clear. The world moves slowly, the moment goes fast. One shift and nothing can ever be the same again.

Reki isn’t sure in which order everything happened. He knows it started with one of Langa’s whispers, his small voice ever so slightly coated with an English accent. Then there were the touches, the hug that was so different from their typical hugs. Reki wouldn’t be able to name the difference now, but it was there. There was something more tender in the embrace, something filled with wanting. It wasn’t just one of those excited, impulsive hugs they would spring on one another. This was a deliberate touch, one filled with need, with want. Langa wanted to be there. Langa wants to be there, in the small of Reki’s neck, pressed against his side, almost falling over him. Langa wants to be this close and Reki doesn’t want him to go. He wants Langa there. He wants Langa there for as long as he can have him.

Then there was the lift of Langa’s head. Or maybe first there had been the turn of Reki’s. He isn’t sure which came first. He isn’t sure of much after that first shift, actually. But what he is sure of is the color of Langa’s eyes, the way they seemed to twinkle. All he knows is that this is Langa, his best friend, the prettiest boy he’s ever seen. All he knows is that everything is on autopilot. All he knows is that his eyes fall shut as soon as he feels Langa’s breath on his lips. All he knows is that whatever happens next, he wants it. He wants it all. He wants Langa. He wants Langa and nothing can ruin this for him.

It's hesitant at first, the soft touch of Langa’s lips against his own. It feels like more like a question than anything, but it isn’t long before the question finds its answer. It isn’t long before the soft touch turns into something more. It isn’t long before they find their rhythm, Langa’s fingers digging into Reki’s hips, holding on for dear life. It isn’t long that what could’ve been an innocent peck turns into something more desperate. It isn’t long before the whole world has been forgotten, or maybe it’s just that Reki and Langa have become each other’s worlds in a matter of seconds. Nothing else matters at the moment, nothing but warm breaths and rushed kisses. Nothing but the fading taste of the sweets they had had early in the day. Nothing but silky hair slipping through Reki’s fingers. Nothing matters, nothing except Langa. Nothing except Langa’s kisses. Nothing but the desperation that comes with the thought of losing Langa’s kisses. Nothing but the thought that this is the only time he’ll get to know what it feels like to be kissing Langa. Langa, the prettiest boy Reki’s ever laid eyes on.

Reki’s lost count of the number of kisses he’s laid on Langa. He’s lost his string of thoughts, his initially detailed plan of how things would go the day he would get to press his first kiss to someone. None of this is following the way he thought it would go, starting with the fact that he just kissed Langa and not some girl like he thought he would. But now with the entirety of his weight pressed into Langa’s lap, his hands tangled in the softest hair he’s ever had the privilege of touching, Reki couldn’t care less of his initial plan. This, this reality, it’s so much better than any of those fantasies he had come up with over the years. Kissing Langa is so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

“Reki?”

It’s the softest Reki’s ever hear his name be said. A breathless whisper against his lips, a whisper he’ll be dreaming about for far too long. A whisper filled with adoration. A whisper he may never hear again. A whisper that may be Langa’s way of telling him that this was all a mistake. A whisper that might be the end of everything. A whisper that may as well be—

“Reki, I—”

“I’m sorry!” The words tumble out of Reki’s mouth before he can even process what he’s saying. “I wasn’t thinking and I just— I don’t know what I was thinking or maybe I wasn’t even thinking at all? I just… I shouldn’t have… I didn’t actually… It’s probably like… weird? Like,” nervous laughter falls from his lips as his heart races in his chest. “It’s totally weird, right? Bros don’t… bros don’t like… do what just happened, right? We can’t…”

“I like kissing you, Reki.”

Silence crashes down, an invisible weight pressing on Reki’s chest. Langa… Langa, he likes the kisses. He liked whatever just happened between them. He enjoyed the moment that just passed, one that Reki also enjoyed, if he ignores the wave of panic that overwhelmed him. He doesn’t hate Reki for the stolen kisses, the kisses that probably had no business being stolen in the first place. The smart thing probably would have been to ignore the pounding of his heart and the pull Langa’s lips had on him, but it’s too late to regret everything. Not that Reki regrets any of it! Absolutely not! Not when it’s Langa over and over again.

“Y’know, Reki…” This time, Reki can’t miss the blush that blossoms under Langa’s skin. He can’t miss the boy’s averting eyes and the pinkness that sticks out from under his hair. This time, Reki is certain that Langa is blushing and he can’t help but feel the heat in his own face as he stares at Langa, waiting for the rest of his thoughts. “You don’t have to… stop or anything? If you want, we can…”

“I think I like you.”

Reki’s hands couldn’t have flown to his face any faster than they do right then and there, clasping them right over the words that he hadn’t meant to blurt out. While they weren’t a lie, was now the best time to say it? Really, did this have to be all so confusing? Why does everything have to be so freaking confusing!

“I like you too!”

I like you too; truer words had never been uttered. Or at least, Reki sure hopes they hold some truth since they have his heart racing and they have him grinning like an absolute fool. Because if Langa likes him, like likes him, then what is there to be afraid? The scariest part of falling for his best friend was that it might have come with the price of their friendship, but now that Langa is here, smiling that sweet and soft smile, eyes crinkling at the corner, Reki isn’t afraid anymore. He isn’t scared as he lets his body crash against Langa’s, arms wrapping around his neck in the tightest hug he’s ever given his best friend. And as Langa’s arms loops around his waist, everything clicks. This is right. This moment, it couldn’t get any better. Nothing could take Reki’s happiness away. Nothing could take Langa away from him. Because this is right. Because this is Reki and Langa, best of friends, best of everything. Two halves of a whole.

“I like you too, man. I like you so much, Langa. And you mean everything to me.”  

[eskildit]

when you remember that nona the ninth was originally just act one, corona saying “don’t put too much trust in Pyrrha Dve, Cam ... there’s a lot you don’t know” ........ yeah i have a feeling we’re going to learn some fucked up pyrrha facts in alecto

[amywritesthings]

silver underground will update with chapter 16 on august 18, 2023! ✨

[johnwicklover1999]

i think one thing that anti-theists like.. do wrong (?) is treat religions like they're monoliths, which is impossible. you might find that one denomination is larger than another, but there will pretty much always be other denominations, and varying interpretations within each denomination.

no religion is a monolith, and no religion ever will be one. that's because religion is a personal experience to the individual, who will have their own thoughts and feelings about their faith. that is how people are in regards to everything, because humans aren't a monolith of a species.

i understand it might be confusing, or even frustrating when a religion has many denominations and interpretations, but that doesn't work super well as a reason for wanting to rid of religion. in fact, just yesterday i was told by an anti-theist that 'ideally' the belief of magic would be rid of and traditional religion wouldn't change. i know for a fact that other anti-theists would disagree with that and present their own ideal outcome of anti-theism, because i often browse anti-theism tags to get an understanding of anti-theist beliefs (it's good practice to read up on some opposing opinions to get some standing ground! my dad taught me that.)

it is perfectly okay to be critical of religion, i myself am critical of some religious ideas from varying religions! but when you don't fully understand the religion you're criticizing, and you're getting your information from biased sources, or only reading about limited ideas then you don't have the information to accurately criticize any religion. the idea that all religions are strict monoliths is entirely false, and if someone believes that then their criticism isn't totally credible, especially when they can't acknowledge the good of religion.

in the end, individual religions can not be treated as if they are massive groups of people who all share the same ideas and the same beliefs, harmful or not. because that's literally just not true. if you want to improve religion then actually go forth and try to understand it and listen to different people discuss their religion and it's flaws, trying to get rid of religion will only hurt people. (and i very strongly believe that getting rid of religion will in turn hurt spiritually, and by extension culture.)

[dawntheduckrb]

Someone drew pearl on a wall in the art building lol

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <3

[fountainpenguin]

The funniest joke to me is when a character says “Don’t say I never gave you anything” and they have given NOTHING

[izzy-b-hands]

laundry is getting done (so izzy cosplay will be available for Halloween tomorrow)

I'm awake

And I'm writing the silliest modern au fic based off my own first trip this month over the GW bridge to get to Queen in Philly (tho notably the only similarity is that the bridge is involved and that they're going to see Queen in Philly, but the setting is really all I needed for the plot to go from random modern au smut to vaguely PWP lmao)

I don't feel good. But I don't feel worse. That's something

[antifragi1e]

am i allowed to be upset

[semercury]

I don't want to be at work I want to be home writing some silly little words.

[yusukenui]

aether is the doormat twin if anything, argue with the wall

[maglors-anion-gap]

initial thoughts on "the hoard" are that it lends explicit credence to my perspective that both thingol and the dwarves were in an altered state of mind from glaurung's cursed hoard. That seemed to be at best subtext in the published silm. iirc this version also leans a little heavier on thingol refusing them full payment than what i remember being published? correct me on all counts if i'm wrong.

The girdle bit i find quite strange.... jirt moving pieces around and about and making nothing better for it... What does he mean by "Melian had removed it in grief and horror at the deed that had been done" before the sacking even happened? Because to me it sounds like she alone is not swayed by the curse on the treasure and drops the girdle in some sort of weird fight with thingol over him not paying the dwarves??? help.

Because the other option tolkien entertains is that the curse on the treasure undoes the girdle's power. I think that has big implications for people keeping the nauglamir-silmaril around for the rest of the first age. I know people cite birthright-by-inheritance as reason for doriath and sirion to keep the silmaril (and I'm not denying that finders keepers is valid).

But, I feel like i've seen at least one person cite a draft that says the silmaril-necklace was kept because it might confer some benefit because of its hallowing. (speculation) if you were to run with the idea of the silver being so thoroughly cursed it undid the Girdle I think that most likely would undo/cancel any benefit from silmaril. So there's one draft contradiction I spot (if someone knows which draft that notion came from, i'd be in your debt). Additionally, because this letter overtly implicates glaurung's curse on the treasure, because the stone was never moved from the silver setting, I don't think you'd be too far logically from saying the curse is at work upon the mind of anyone who has the necklace, and could argue that this is one factor in the decisions to keep the silmaril.

I am not saying anything about it being good or bad that the silmaril was not ceded, and I'm not trying to say jirt lays canonical blame on X person, just that i'm interested in what all parties are thinking and why.

has anyone drawn up a post of what this letter explicitly contradicts from the published silm or satellite texts/drafts? Obviously the girdle and sacking of doriath are quite different. At a glance, the stuff about the theft of the boats and the messenger to feanor is just a very cursory summary of what we see in the published silm. "Lord of lights" is new, as is the bit about the Rings being a continuation of the Silmarils and that war. But otherwise?

My brain is scrambled egg so i'd love to see what others think about this.

[todayisafridaynight]

and if we got to see sawashiro daddy up on aoki just Once i think i wouldve cheered, applauded even