#the stem major's curse

[1o1percentmilk]

i don't even want to take half my classes that im registered for autumn quarter

[soundsliketeenspirits]

tate and violet but its 1995 and they live in adjacent apartments. tate (who has never been influenced by evil shit, thank you very much) has just moved out of his mom's house. he's subleasing half of a little 2-bed place for cheap and his roommate is some rich college fucker that sells coke to freshmen. tate "honest worker" langdon keeps getting fired from customer service jobs.

violet's parents are freshly divorced, with her mom having moved back east and her father staying in LA. she's fresh out of junior year and has been guilt-tripped into visiting ben for the summer (its how vivian keeps her for all major holidays) with the promise of touring colleges.

they meet outside on their way-too-close little balconies one night and get along like a house on fire. violet eventually starts climbing over the railings to sit on his porch in the saucer chair he dragged from his room just for her (its navy blue to match the giant beanbag chair that's already permanent fixture). they're four floors up and this scares the shit out of them both but they play it cool. august sees them up til 2am every night for a week, high as shit and watching tv in his bed, just in time for violet to go back to boston for the fall.

[theamazingmaddyas]

So, I'm rereading Rick Riordan's entire discography (is that the word for books? Idk, I'm using it anyway) for the first time in 9 years, and I don't think little me fully comprehended how confusing Hazel's age is. I think I just accepted things at face value, but now I can't stop thinking about it, so this is inaccuracies I found in SON (as that is what I'm on) about Hazel's age, because I need to talk about it before I spontaneously combust.

Hazel's last birthday (her 13th) is said to be December 17, 1941, but she came to camp before Jason disappeared circa October the year prior to SON, which means she spent a December 17 at camp.

Even if she didn't count that birthday, as she died in circa Juneish (As it had been six months since they left New Orleans) and returned in late August, early September (This is completely an estimation. Hazel arrived at camp jupiter pre-Jason disappearance with enough time that the two considered each other friends, and Hazel went the Wolf House first, which would mean she couldn't return in October, but the earliest had to be late August as the doors of death opened after the war which ended on August 18th) which isn't a full year since her last birthday, by SON she'd lived over 365 days from that birthday.

Hazel died in late June, so that would make her approximately 13½ at the time of her death, which is about 183 days (actually it is 182.5 because 1942 was not a leap year, but I'm rounding), or 6 months. If she came back from the dead in early September, that would be a little less than 10 months returned by the SON, which takes place between June 20 and June 24th. That would make Hazel's physical age 14 years and 4 months come the exact number date she returned.

Next confusing thing is that Hazel explicitly states that Frank is 3 years older than her, which also makes zero sense. Frank's sixteenth birthday was about two weeks pre-SON (Rick Riordan gave him the birthday June 5th, so that is what we will be using for these calculation). Even if Hazel had returned from the dead the literal day of SON beginning (which she didn't), the two would still only be 2½ years apart, as Hazel died at 13½. But as aforementioned, Hazel physically could not be 13 as she has been alive over 365 days since her last birthday. Meaning Hazel and Frank, maximum, could be 2 years apart, though probably less since Hazel's a few months past 14.

In conclusion, Rick Riordan doesn't know math made a few mistakes regarding Hazel's age, and I didn't remember it being this bad from when I was a kiddo but now I could write an entire thesis on Hazel's age and how his mistake impacts readers assumptions on Hazel's character and Frazel as a ship.

[awberryy]

hey guys :) I wrote fanfiction and actually published it!

[eileenwdj]

my spidersonas! their names are Hong Zhizhu/Red Spider (real name Hong Huiran) and Zhizhu Dajun/Lord Spider (real name Xu Xia). they are connected with each other!

backstories, doodles, and other versions under the cut

their backstories:

Zhizhu Dajun (蜘蛛大君) / Lord Spider

Real name: Xu Xia (徐侠)

Born from a poor, commoner family, Xu Xia works in a wealthy noble family's home as a servant to the young master (his version of Harry Osborne probably ?) who allows him to tag along and shadow him during his studies

A god/immortal (whom we shall not name bc I can't think) messed around and accidentally cursed a bunch of animals. Some of these animals became monsters, some physically merged with unsuspecting humans, and some others granted powers to creatures they come across, like the spider that bit Xu Xia

Bro became this world's one and only Spiderman (yayy!!!) and lived the rest of his life fighting crime and protecting the innocent (wahoo!!)

A lot of people thought of him as a god or a powerful immortal due to his powers and started to build temples for him and worship him (he's not god, he's just some guy who happened to get bit by a spider)

He inevitably died during a great battle against a powerful enemy. Before he died, he vowed to not rest in peace until he finds a worthy successor to serve as protector and defeat the enemy (that is presumably immortal and can strike again at anytime) and he transfered his consciousness? soul? ghost self? idk tbh? to one of his spiders

Unfortunately bro is So Tired™️ that it took him several thousand years to wake up

Hong Zhizhu (红蜘蛛) / Red Spider

Real name: Hong Huiran (洪惠然)

She's a science & engineering geek but also a History major. She originally wanted to major in STEM but ended up with History because STEM majors are expensive as hell

The mysterious and reclusive Zhizhu Dajun is her thesis topic and she frequently visits the museum to look at his statues and displays

One of the displays is a taxidermed spider

It is also the exact same spider that Xu Xia transfered himself into when he died

Xu Xia has only recently managed to wake up but is still barely able to move his new body (I imagine it must be hard to move if your body is filled with cotton, RIP)

He was intrigued by Huiran when he noticed her visiting multiple times. He deems her worthy to be his successor and with the sheer power of (god and anime on his side) will, he escaped his display and bit her

Huiran becomes her world's (and her time's) one and only Spiderwoman (yayy!!) and lives life fighting crime and protecting the innocent (wahoo!!!)

But you see, the way the spiderbite works is that now Xu Xia is technically in Huiran's body... so... so..... it's like,, Asa and Yoru.........

Several thousand-year-old stoic ancient ghost man becomes mentor and father figure to reluctant 22-year-old history student with a science obsession running on 12 cups of coffee and zero sleep

Shenanigans ensue

another version of Zhizhu Dajun’s design:

these were his original colors before he broke. red seemed too happy a color for his path. he then permanently changed to white, forever mourning the lives he couldn't save. Huiran chose to adopt these colors instead of the white.

extra doodles:

[doobea]

✰⋆⁺★ WE KEEP THIS LOVE IN A PHOTOGRAPH ─ CHOSO KAMO

synopsis: you're serious about getting an A for your photography class. so serious that you end up fake dating your best friend. and, well, it gets out of hand.

contents: no curse AU, gn!reader, sfw, fluff, mr ed scares me but his songs are corny bops, friends to lovers + fake dating, choso has been secretly pinning but waits for you to make first move hehe, a satosugu kfc joke thrown in here, i always make my readers a stem major but they're an artsy major here, i feel like choso will always be some sort of chem major in my stories because it just works???, kinda PROOF'D, i finished writing this at 4am... word count: 3.8K (crazy ik) a/n: i love him, i love him, i love him sm *explodes* songs related to this fic: out of my league by fitz and the tantrums + photograph by ed sheeran

The best part about majoring in photography is that you’ve enjoyed every single project you’re given. This year, your professor explained that she wanted all of her students’ projects to always follow a specific theme — happiness, sadness, anger, etc. And, throughout the year, you’ve gotten nothing but A’s on all of them. It’s something you’re proud about, something that you didn’t hesitate to tell your best friend Choso when he had asked about it the first time around. 

However, this straight A streak might soon come to a stop as the end of the semester wraps up. Your professor had just gotten engaged a few weeks ago and today's the first time she’s returning back to classes from her honeymoon, which she hasn’t stopped gloating over. She’s happy and you’re happy for her, you really are, but the themes of the projects for this class usually revolves around what she’s feeling and, unfortunately for you, the last theme just happens to be—

“Love!” your professor writes the word in big pink letters on the chalkboard and you immediately hear half of the class cheering and half of them groaning. Safe to say, you’re part of the other half.

“Oh, c’mon guys,” she frowns before pointing to her diamond engagement ring. “Love is amazing, it’s beautiful, it’s everlasting—”

“Some of us are single, you know?” one student calls out, several others joining in right after. “What if we don’t have a partner?”

It’s a valid point. This project will be a piece of cake for anyone in a relationship. Half of the class will probably submit a folder with selfies with their partners. And, given that your professor is in a particular good mood for this assignment, it’ll be an easy A. You, on the other hand, have nothing to submit because you’re not dating anyone. If somehow your professor suggests taking photos of your crushes, then that’ll be really fucking weird.

“You don’t have to be in a relationship for this project to work,” she explains with a smile. “For example, you could always submit pictures of your crushes.”

Fuck that.

“Kinda borderline stalkerish,” your thoughts slip out quite audibly.

Other students around you quickly agree while the other half of the class is arguing to keep the theme. Your professor opens her mouth to protest but only ends up shutting it again.

“Okay,” she laughs nervously before clapping her hands together in an attempt to calm everyone down. “If anyone would like a modification to this assignment, just send me an email by the end of the day and I’ll make a slight adjustment.” she says seriously. 

That seems to work as some of your classmates are already typing away on their laptops. You’re tempted to join the list, not out of frustration of being single, but rather because you’re not sure if getting an A is possible this time. You’re wondering if you should even bother asking Choso to be your little guinea pig, but that would probably be asking a lot from someone who already has a lot on their plate. Plus, it would be really weird to actually ask your crush to be your pretend boyfriend.

“How was class?”

“Fine.”

Choso cocks a brow as he slides into the dining booth across from you. He has a brightly assorted platter consisting of various vegetables and a fat salmon filet. He’s been lecturing to you about healthy eating habits a week ago after catching his half-brother downing a bunch of fried foods and burgers. What a health nut. Which is why he splits his sides of vegetables and adds some on your sparse plate when he sees you have nothing but a lonely scoop of pasta and fries.

“No, seriously, tell me what’s wrong,” and he gives you that look where you know you can’t make up an excuse out of it. 

You gracefully jab your fork at some of the oven roasted carrots he placed down, chewing and swallowing them in a way that made it seem like they kidnapped your entire family. And, fuck, they taste really good.

“My professor told us about the final project today,” you start, eyes focusing only on your plate and avoiding your best friend at all costs.

“Yeah?” Choso slices a piece of the salmon off and plates it on top of your pasta. “What about it?”

You briefly frown at the action, feeling your cheeks burn up shamelessly because why does he have to be so attentive and perfect?

“The theme is ‘Love’ and… well, I don’t really have anyone.” you cringe, poking at the salmon until it shreds apart. 

Your friend goes silent, making a low humming sound as if deep in thought. After some pauses, Choso speaks up, “What about crushes? Or celebrities?”

Your eyes immediately flick to his face at the word ‘crush’ but you steel yourself before your emotions betray you. You begin coughing into your fist, pretending to be choking on a piece of noodle before downing your glass of water. 

“That’ll be weird, dude. I can’t just take a photo of my crush and I feel like celebrities would just be a shitty cop out.” Sadly, you’re quite the model student in your major, and you’re not going to half-ass a project just because it’ll still give you a passing grade.

“So, what’s your plan?” Choso asks genuinely.

You purse your lips together, shrinking back into your seat, gaze now downcast again. “I’m not sure… I’ve been doing really well in that class and, well, it would suck seeing a C on this assignment after all the hard work I’ve done.” you answer honestly. 

He’s silent again and you can feel his foot tapping against yours underneath the table. Choso doesn’t show emotion easily on his face unless provoked, but you can tell he’s really focused on finding some sort of solution because he’s chewing the insides of his cheeks, brows slightly creased under his bangs, and the tattoo on his nose is slightly scrunched up. You probably think he looks the same when he’s taking his exams and, for some reason, it makes you kinda happy that he’s putting this much effort into this silly dilemma. Though, makes you also feel slightly guilty, too. 

“Hey,” you put up your hands in defeat and laugh. “It’s alright, Cho. Unless you volunteer to be my fake boyfriend and I take cheesy selfies with you, I don’t think you gotta do anything for me.”

“No, I can do that.”

You go into a coughing fit again. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Well,” this time Choso looks slightly flustered, hand rubbing the back of his neck and the other drumming away on the tabletop. “If that gets you an A, then I’ll do it for you. If, you know, you’re okay with that?” When you don’t give him an immediate answer, Choso waves his hands dismissively in the air, shaking his head, “Actually, never mind, it’s a dumb idea.”

No, it’s a genius idea. An idea that you thought only existed in your fantasies. And, now, you can’t stop thinking about actually doing it. “We can do that,” you say quietly, swallowing a heavy lump. “A few sappy photoshoots and then we call it, yeah?”

Choso nods slowly. “Anything for that A, right?”

“Right,” you echo back.

The first photo shoot occurs pretty soon after the proposal. Choso had suggested that a dinner date would be a good start and he just happened to make a quick reservation at Kentucky Fried de Chicken, or KFC for short. He’s heard good reviews from his classmate Suguru prior and texted you its details.

Business casual, ambient lighting, and live jazz music. You’re starting to wonder if he’s taking this more seriously than you are.

The fancy restaurant is way fancier than you originally anticipated. It’s the type of fancy that only the richest of the rich would go to, definitely not where a bunch of college students like yourselves would hang around in. Still, it’s impressive that Choso managed to find a spot last minute. You hope to order just a mini appetizer to split and pray that they don’t charge for a glass of water like some places do.

“Fuck,” your eyes feel like they’re about to jump out when you breeze over the menu. “How do people justify these prices?”

Choso stifles a groan of his own, probably thinking about losing a week’s worth of pay to a side he can’t even pronounce. “Nepo babies,” he answers bitterly.

“Ugh, Suguru probably made Satoru pay for everything…” you mumbled. “Not that he would mind, I guess. He’s practically the definition of old money.”

“Sorry, next time I’ll pick somewhere less… flashy,” Choso frowns, seemingly disappointed in himself.

You feel a wave of guilt hit again. Shit, you didn’t mean to make him feel bad or poor on this pretend date. Hell, you can barely afford student housing but you would probably spend the last of your money in your bank account to treat Choso out. You’re under the delusion that he’s doing that right now. But, if anything, you should probably cover for most of it because it’s your project, not his.

You lightly kick his feet, careful enough to not scuff his only pair of loafers. “No, I’m sorry. This,” you motion to the hanging chandelier above the table and towards the live band across the room. “This is perfect, Choso. I’m gonna be jealous of your future partner.” you say fondly but also exasperated. 

This makes him tense up, and you’re wondering if somehow he does have someone in mind. You’re about to ask, but the waiter swings by with two glasses of lemon water and a side of complementary towels. When the waiter starts asking for your orders and you respond with ‘just the broccolini’, he gives you an eye roll and scribbles the dish down with most likely a complaint added to it. 

“Budget tight, I see.” the staff comments before moving to a busier table of actual business men.

You stick out a tongue once he’s out of sight. “Budget tight?” you mock his tone and Choso laughs from across. “Dude, the broccolini costs as much as a full tank of gas in this economy and he wants to complain about the size of our wallets?”

“Half of a tank of gas,” Choso corrects and waves his wallet around. “You’re my date for tonight, I think it’s fair that I pay.”

Your cheeks flush at his words and you’re glad that it’s dark otherwise Choso would probably think you’re having a fever right now. You swallow thickly, “Let me pay, you already cover for Yuuji’s groceries.”

“How about I pay for this and you can cover for the next photo shoot?” Well, you can’t really argue with that logic, as much as you do want to.

“I, ugh, okay fine,” and to lighten up the mood, you add, “As your date, it’s your job to spoil me tonight.”

Choso laughs a little, seemingly satisfied by your answer. “Yeah, I know.”

The broccolini ends up tasting subpar. But you both knew that, afterall, you couldn’t afford any of the entrees on the menu without going into debt. You split half of the dish, which really isn’t that much to begin with — maybe like three pieces for each person. You’ve seen Choso eat before, you practically have lunch and dinner with him almost every single day, but something about this feels entirely different.

He’s more careful, using the comically gold plated silverware to cut into the dish and making sure he doesn’t make a mess. There’s a certain softness in his eyes when he looks up, asking if the food is okay, if it’s too salty and if he should order more. Obviously, you say no, because you’re not the type to take advantage of his kindness, no matter how much he persists. When you manage to get a bit of sauce on your cheeks, he subconsciously reaches over and swipes it away with his thumb, only then do you smell his rich cologne and see that he’s freshly shaven in the face. It makes your dumb heart do even dumber flips until you remind yourself that it’s just for a class project.

The rest of the 'date' goes surprisingly well. Of course it does – you’re with your best friend, and the topic of fake dating doesn’t come up again in the night. You both end up making stupid games with each other about inventing fake backstories for all the rich old people in the restaurant, and you both have to bite down on your hands from laughing too loud.

It feels like a normal hangout but, in your mind, it’s so much more.

After another futile attempt to fight for the bill, Choso wins, and you both start leaving. You’re lagging behind him, hands fiddling on your camera settings as you look through the few photos you manage to take during the meal. The dim lighting makes Choso look moodier than usual, but the images still feel stiff and doesn’t really capture the whole ‘love’ theme. 

You only look up again when Choso tugs on your sleeves, dragging you gently out the revolving doors and finally into the cool, night air, and you can’t help but gasp.

Choso blinks and his hands fly to his face, rubbing around for any traces of green florets. “Is there something on my face?”

“Don’t move,” you angle your camera, getting down to one knee and making sure the moonlight is shining directly at his sides because he looks absolutely ethereal right now.

The camera releases its shutters several times, taking at least ten photos in case one of them ends up looking bad, which is practically impossible because it’s Choso — but you’re not going to tell him that. Satisfied with the outcome, you rush up to him, bumping into his shoulder, and eagerly present the finished results.

“One of these is definitely going into the project,” you huff out with pride and Choso nods besides you.

“I’m not usually the type to have photos of myself but these are good,” he agrees. “Mind sending a few over?”

“Yeah,” you give him a soft smile and laugh.

You decide to save the first one for your portfolio and leave the other nine for your memories.

The second photo shoot ends up being domestic themed. Which is way better than paying for an overpriced meal.

It’s the weekend and also your monthly movie night marathon with Choso, so both of you are currently laying on either end of the couch in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and sweats. You decide, in order to fit the theme, that the perfect movie series to put on is the After series.

“Did you know that this first started out as a One Direction fanfic?” you huddle your knees close to your chest, eyes practically glued to the screen as the introduction plays.

“Is that why the reviews are bad?” he jabs.

Your eyes widen, scooting close to his side and pinching his arm as punishment for looking up the movie prior. “Hey, you’re supposed to go into this blind.”

“You’ve already read it though,” Choso counters and nudges you back. 

“Yeah, and you haven’t,” you roll your eyes and somehow neither of you comment how close your bodies are. 

You understand why they have to change the names of the characters due to copyright laws but you can’t help but to cringe at the replacement names. Harry is now Hardin, Zyan is now Zed, and Liam is now Landon. And the acting? Pretty bad. Possibly even worse compared to the Sharknado marathon you both had last month.

“That’s,” you pull out your fingers to count, “like the fifth sex scene within the past hour.”

In the middle of it, when Choso is pressed up against you, you decide it’s picture time. You raise the camera to fit you both, and throw up a peace sign, because why not? It’ll make a cute photo.

Or so you think until impulsively, Choso leans down and plants a chaste kiss on your head.

The photo ends up looking comically cute, with his eyes closed and your surprised look, but you're pretty much trying to keep yourself together from exploding on the spot.

“Sorry,” he pulls back, and there’s a heavy blush running across his cheeks as he says, “I thought it would look good and fit the theme.”

“R-Right,” you sharply inhale a breath as you wordlessly lean back into his touch, continuing the film without bringing up the kiss again.

When the third film starts playing, Choso ends up falling asleep on your shoulder, and you take it upon yourself to steal yourself a kiss on his forehead, somehow convincing yourself it’s for the project without even taking a photo.

“Have you ever, I dunno, thought about the fact that he likes you back?” Nobara asks bluntly during one particular evening at the library. 

“Shh!” You press a finger on her lips, ignoring her muffled whines as you try to control the rapid beating from your chest. “Not so loud!”

Nobara sighs and pulls back, pen gliding across her notebook and draws a shitty version of you and Choso in the middle of the page. “This is you, and this is him,” she points at the figures before doodling hearts above. “This is you and him from everyone’s point of view—so disgustingly in love that it makes all of us physically vomit sometimes,” she says this in the nicest way possible.

“Dude,” you frown and hide your face behind a textbook, fearing that other students would overhear. “He doesn’t like me like that. We’ve been friends since forever and I feel like if we make a move on each other then our dynamic will be fucked.”

She blinks, unfazed by your frenzied state, and sighs again. “Keep telling yourself that.” Nobara rips out the doodle and slides it across the desk to you. You begrudgingly accept it, shoving it in your bag. “When are you guys meeting up? You have one more photo shoot, right?”

“Later tonight, in his dorm,” you mumble shyly, feeling yourself growing smaller at that fact.

Nobara snorts. “A sex photo shoot?”

“No!” and you slap a hand over your mouth once several students hush you. “No.” you repeat, softer this time.

She laughs and doesn’t push the conversation any further. “Mhm, okay, okay.”

A few hours later and you're browsing around in his dorm room, trying to understand some of his organic chemistry notes but all it does is makes your brain hurt.

“I don’t get how you’re able to do this,” you plop down on his bed, staring hard at the back of Choso’s head as he pulls out an earbud, chuckling at your frustration. 

“I can teach you,” he offers, to which you immediately decline. “Or not, that’s cool, too.”

It bothers you a little of how normal everything is. You’ve definitely moved on from the kiss. Definitely. Not like you replayed it every day of your life for the past week. Not at all. Completely moved on. Yeah. Maybe Choso’s doing the same thing? Or, maybe he’s completely engrossed in his studies and you’re just a sick, sick friend who’s using your best friend? Yeah, maybe that’s it.

You clear your throat after a few beats in silence. “What did you have in mind?”

Choso hums in thought before shrugging. “Maybe capture something personal in my dorm? I think that’ll work.” Then, he gets up and excuses himself to the bathroom. “If you’re hungry, I have some snacks in my drawers. Be back in a second.”

When the door shuts, you let out a deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. You’ve been in his room plenty of times and, after everything, it’s so hard to keep yourself composed around him. Ugh, this project wasn’t supposed to make you feel anything.

You take up his offer and start rummaging through his drawers. The top drawer consists of nothing but graphing paper and his carefully curated pens and pencils. His second drawer holds his other lab notebooks and extra scrap paper with scribbled notes. As you approach his third and final drawer, your gaze falls to an old photograph of you and Choso back in middle school on his desk.

It’s tucked away in the corner, just behind his lamp, and it’s a fond memory. Your arms are wrapped around his waist, his body slightly lifted above the ground, and your face looks absolutely constipated as you were trying your hardest to hold him. Choso, on the other hand, looks like he was about to burst into flames. Without thinking, you grab your camera and capture his desk, zooming in on the photo as the focal point. It’s slightly out of focus and a bit shaken up, like you couldn’t keep your hands still when you were taking it, but it’s perfect.

The following day you submit your portfolio, along with the rest of your classmates. Some complaining about how unfair the project was, some boasting about how it’s the easiest assignment out of the year, and some—you—are a bundle of nerves.

It’s not until the end of the week, where you’re having dinner with Choso in the dining hall, that you receive an email notification stating that grades are finally posted. 

You jolt from your seat, swallowing the last bits of roasted vegetables on your platter, before checking your grades. One. Two. Three… when the site loads, you practically screech in celebration.

“I got the A!”

“Congrats,” Choso smiles softly before it fades away, replaced by a nervous laugh and then a frown. “I’m sorry about kissing you the other day.”

Wow, that’s not exactly what you were expecting.

You choke on your drink but he continues, “I can tell you’ve been acting weird since then. And I think I stepped out of the line doing it. I’m sorry.”

Fuck, what are you supposed to say to that?

You scratch the back of your neck, face now equally as warm as his. “Don’t apologize, I’m actually kinda glad you did…”

He blinks. “You are?”

“Yeah,” you nod and Choso flushes more at that.

Then, his eyebrows shoot up. “You like me?”

“A lot,” and he gets even redder. God, he has no idea how much you’re madly in love with him.

“So, I guess we can start taking photos together like an actual couple then?”

You laugh, not fully believing that this is how your confession gets to be known. “Yeah, I guess we can.”

Looking back at every photo, every longing moment to the lingering touches, kisses, and the methodical layout of his room, you wonder if there was a moment where you faked your feelings for one another. The simple answer is no, to anyone, these photographs only contain unconditional love.

© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.

[julesdaydreams]

@rosekillermicrofic II prompt: May 1 - rose II word count: 951

TW: blood (it's nothing major, just a cut, but it's there)

Barty was standing in front of him with a rose.

Barty, his best friend for over six years, was standing in front of him, Evan, with a fucking rose.

And Evan's mind was spinning.

It wasn't like he hadn't dreamt of a moment like this. When the ball at the end of the year was announced, Evan's mind immediately wandered towards Barty. How it would feel to go there with him. His best friend, but more importantly, with the boy he's been madly in love with for the better part of three years.

Evan imagined himself standing in front of Barty, asking him to the dance, and not as friends - like the other times the two of them had attended gatherings together instead of bringing a date because they just couldn't be arsed to ask someone - but as more.

And now Barty was standing in front of him with that damned rose, thorns still adorning the stem because of course Barty wouldn't bother removing them, would like the fact that if he wasn't careful they'd sting and draw blood.

Was this some crude joke of his friend? Was this like all those other times they've gone together to such things instead of bringing someone else? But no, that wouldn't explain the rose. In all those years there had never been a rose and Evan didn’t know what it meant.

“So?”, came the all too familiar voice and Evan's head snapped up and towards those large eyes that looked like Barty's, but also not because Evan had never seen them like this; wide and expecting, but there was fear behind them, a tension, as if Barty was ready to bolt if Evan said something wrong.

“What?” Was all Evan's very unhelpful brain could come up with.

Barty looked exasperated with him already.

“The ball, Evan. You want to go? With- With me?” Barty's voice was higher than usual, if not by much but Evan could tell. He was also fidgety - which was usually pretty normal for the boy, but not with Evan. Not when they were alone.

Finally focusing on the fact that he should probably say something, Evan stepped into action.

“Oh! Yeah sure, mate. You don't have to ask so formally, we always go together to these things, no?”, he laughed lightly but it all came out wrong. Because for once in his life Evan couldn't suppress the hope that this was something else, that this meant more, whatever that more was.

Barty cursed, rolled his eyes, before looking at Evan with so much intensity, he found himself pinned to the floor, not even blinking.

“Rosie, you know that's not what I meant. That's not what this is. I got you a rose for fucks sake! Isn't that obvious enough?! I don't want to go as mates. Not with you. Not anymore. I just- I really hope I haven't been reading this wrong and I'm making a complete arse of myself right now. But- you want this too, right? Want… want us to be more than best friends?”

It all came out in a jumbled mess, just calming down over the last few words and he sounded so unsure. Evan has never seen him like that he wanted to make it go away, now.

So, when his brain finally caught up with him, when his thoughts where finally aligned, focused on the boy in front of him, the boy he loved, he just acted.

He took the rose from Barty's hands, feeling the way the thorns dug into his palm, cutting skin, because he couldn't waste a moment being careful about such a thing when all he wanted was Barty.

His arms wrapped around Barty's neck, pulling him down the few inches he had on Evan, and crashed their mouths together.

It wasn't gentle. Maybe it could've been. If Evan wanted it to. He could've taken Barty's rose gently, instead of crushing the stem in his palm. Could've taken Barty's cheeks in both his hands, cradling them, before planting a sweet kiss to the other boys lips.

But Evan had waited three years for this moment. Had been gentle with his own heart this whole time, trying to protect it, to shield it from every hook-up of Barty's, from every hickey that the other had, that weren't from Evan.

For once he wanted to be reckless and now, here, with Barty he finally could.

Soon it was tongues and teeth clashing together and Evan biting Barty's tongue, drawing blood from the other and loving the taste, loving the whimper it elicited from the taller boy.

Evan would've spent the rest of his life standing there and snogging Barty, but the taller boy took a step back all too soon, looking at Evan with such adoration it made him melt on the insides.

“Is that a yes?”, Barty asked and it wasn't nervous anymore, but cocky. That familiar smirk on his face finally back where it's supposed to be and Evan was so happy with it all.

“That's a fucking yes. I'll go to that stupid dance with you, Barty.”

They kissed again, something long and slightly less brutal, if just as intense.

And if Evan forgot about the rose in his bloody hand and brought it to the side, cradling Barty's neck and jaw; if the thorns stung the other boy's creamy skin, painting it a crimson red… Well. None of them seemed to mind.

[ellephlox]

Head Over Heels

Summary: It's technically not your fault that you sprained your ankle, but Matt's annoyed with you anyway (at least, he pretends to be annoyed with you — but you know better).

Pairing: Matt x Fem!Reader

Warnings: A few swears, but otherwise just a whole lot of whumptober fluff!

"You're going to hurt yourself."

"I am not."

"I just heard you nearly fall over in the bathroom—"

"Because I'm rushing, Matt, that's what happens when your partner holds you captive for too long in bed and makes you late for work!"

Matt was in the process of buttoning his work shirt, a task that you noticed was taking him nearly triple the time it usually took, because his attention was entirely on you. "No one at the presentation will care if you're not wearing heels, sweetheart."

"I care!" You jangled your keys, checked your pockets again for your wallet, and slipped on a jacket. "It's a fashion thing. High heels equal professionalism."

"I like to think that I'm a professional lawyer, and not once in my life have I ever had to wear high heels to court."

"You're overreacting. I'm like a gymnast in heels. Ready? Watch this."

Your stilettos clacking against the floor, you performed several twirls, rotating as though you were a ballerina. For the first few, Matt said nothing, but then he reached out and stopped you with a firm hand on your shoulder.

"The heels sound like precarious twigs," he said.

"They're not precarious and they're not twigs. They're pretty." For added effect you started to skip by him towards your purse.

"Just — please stop," Matt said, finishing with his last button and gesturing downward. "Walk like a normal person, at least?"

"Don't worry. I wasn't planning on skipping into the office," you assured him. "Look, I'll see you for lunch, okay? I've got to split."

"Twelve o'clock. And also promise me you won't twirl like that during your presentation," he said, and leaned in to kiss you before you left.

It was another of those impossibly busy days when you and Matt wouldn't be able to spend much time together. He was going to be in court the entire afternoon, and you had a major annual presentation for work, meaning that you'd both be out overtime and wouldn't get home until late. The bright side was that you both had an opening at noon to meet at a small diner in Hell's Kitchen and catch up over lunch.

You cursed your high heels as you tried to speed down the stairs of Matt's apartment. They really weren't conducive for someone who was running late. Halfway down, you lost your footing; the stem of the heel missed the edge of the step and you jolted downward.

And, mercifully, caught yourself on the railing.

Knowing for certain that Matt was listening to you and likely heard your misstep — as well as the way your heart was hammering from the adrenaline of nearly falling down a flight of stairs — you muttered aloud, "See? Everything's fine," and continued on your way. Shortly after, your phone vibrated with a text from Matt:

Are you trying to give me a heart attack?

Laughing to yourself, you stowed your phone back in your purse.

And the high heels did work out, for most of the morning. You gave your presentation and then buried yourself at your desk in paperwork, confined to work for the rest of the day on everything you'd fallen behind in while prepping for the presentation. You couldn't help but glance at the clock every ten minutes; noon was going to be the breath of fresh air in an otherwise stressful day.

Fifteen minutes to noon you got up from your desk and made your way out onto the street. The sun was shining, a soft balmy breeze carried the fragrance of blooming lilacs as you passed a small garden, and plush clouds drifted overhead idly.

And then, just as you were hurrying to crossing the street — technically the pedestrian light was red, but you had a solid seven seconds before the approaching car would actually reach you — there was an ominous snap, and you found yourself falling onto the pavement, your ankle rolling in the process.

Well, not just rolling. It felt more like your ankle was jerked down into a direction it definitely shouldn't have been in, accompanied by a soft pop and a flaring of sharp, throbbing pain.

The car that you would have easily made it past had to brake, honking angrily at you, and you waved vehemently in apology as you struggled to your feet — shit shit shit that hurts — and hobbled out of the street.

"Bitch!" the man shouted from his window as he accelerated by you, tossing a middle finger at you.

Usually that would probably be enough to ruin your day, being yelled at by a stranger, but you were much more preoccupied with the stabbing pain in your ankle. Did I break it? Should sprains hurt this much? You stared, stunned, at the broken stiletto that was half-dangling from your shoe. It had simply snapped in half, for no reason at all.

"Traitor," you muttered to it, taking shelter in the shade of a building to assess your ankle. Gingerly you tried touching it, but it flashed with pain as you pressed on it. Inhaling deeply and tilting your head backwards — do NOT cry don't cry don't cry don't cry— you began to continue your way to the diner.

Matt wasn't going to be happy about this. And you already knew there was no way you could hide it from him. You were limping so badly that it was difficult to walk; each movement felt as though you were tearing your ankle again. If you could arrive at the diner first and get yourself seated, then maybe you had a small chance of the injury going unnoticed, but your limping must have delayed you just enough, because you could see Matt through the window of the restaurant — he'd already arrived.

And his head was already tilted in a way that meant, yep, he's definitely onto me, he can already hear me.

"Hi," you greeted him weakly as you walked in, ignoring the fact that tears were spiking in your eyes. Matt was already on his feet, grabbing his cane almost as an afterthought and approaching you quickly.

"I didn't think it was you at first," he said, quietly so that other patrons in the diner wouldn't hear. "Your gait was so different. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's not so bad," you said, knowing he'd hear right through the lie, but not caring much in the moment.

"Let me feel it."

There was no sense in objecting; Matt, you knew, wouldn't be satisfied until he'd done his radar scanning of it so that he could know precisely what was going on in your ankle. "Okay," you agreed. "But let's use the bathroom. These people trying to enjoy their meals don't need to see you feeling up my ankle."

It was a single-user bathroom, fortunately. Matt entered first and held the door open for you, and only once it was shut and locked did he abandon his cane and stoop by your feet. You leaned against the sink as his fingers grazed your ankle.

"What's my diagnosis, Mr. X-Ray?" you asked, trying to come off as playful, but it was hard hiding the pain in your voice. It didn't help that Matt wasn't having it. He stood up, hands on his hips, jaw twitching.

"You fully tore the ligament," he said. "I told you that those heels would get you hurt."

"Whoa, excuse me. This was not my fault. I didn't trip. The heel just happened to snap on me, so it is one hundred percent, completely, utterly, not my fault."

"You knowingly wore dangerous shoes," Matt insisted.

"Stilettos aren't inherently dangerous, Matt! They're shoes! I just got a bit unlucky—"

"Unlucky? You can hardly walk."

"I'm fine," you said, a bit more firmly, and tried, recklessly, to do the twirl you had done that morning to prove it, but had to stop immediately because it sent a rocketing flare of pain through your leg. "Ow. Shit."

Matt steadied you instinctively. "You should take the rest of the day off and go to the doctor."

"No way. I'm so far behind in work. Besides, I'm good once I'm sitting, it's just walking that's hard."

Matt said nothing at first, but helped you get from the bathroom to the booth, one hand loosely holding his cane and the other supporting you as you leaned on him. You were grateful for his strength practically holding you up; already your ankle was swelling and walking alone would have made a scene. Still, it earned a few stares from several of the other people eating in the diner, but you ignored them.

"I guess I should clarify," Matt said, only once you were seated. "You are taking the rest of the day off."

You furrowed your brow, outraged. "You can't tell me what to do."

"And I'd really recommend seeing a doctor," he continued, "because—"

"Last week you—" You realized your voice was loud and lowered it to a whisper. "Last month you came flopping onto the bed at three in the morning, gasping for breath because you fractured a rib, and when I begged you to see a doctor, you said, 'I'm fine. Don't worry about me so much.' Don't you see how much of a hypocrite you are?"

"I don't care whether or not I'm a hypocrite, I care that you go to the doctor," he said, then added, "But if you don't, you're at least not going back to work. You need to rest, elevate the ankle, and ice it."

You bit your lip. "What if I simply refuse?"

"Then I'll call Claire and make her come pay us a visit tonight to check on you."

The thought of burdening Claire with having to make a trip out to Matt's apartment just for your sake was enough to make your cheeks burn. "You wouldn't."

"I would," he said. "Unless you at the very least stay home the rest of the day and ice your ankle."

"I can't believe you." You fell into silence, punctuated only by the waitress coming to take your beverage orders. Once she left, you tried to brighten things a bit, because Matt's mouth was curved in such an unhappy frown that it was beginning to stress you out. "At least it wasn't my favorite pair of stilettos. If it had been, I might be tempted to try super-gluing the heel back on."

It didn't seem to improve his mood, because Matt didn't smile. "I'd prefer if you just stuck to flats from now on."

"That's a lie. I know you love my heels," you said, impetuously leaning across the table to grab his hands. "You may not be able to see my legs, but I know you can sense them, and I know that stilettos make them, like, ten times sexier."

"You know what's not sexy? A sprained ankle."

"Wow. Thanks for really bulldozing my self-esteem." You paused. "If my ankle makes me so un-sexy, then maybe I'll just... sleep on the couch tonight instead. Wouldn't want you to be near me if I'm all sprained-ankle-ish."

"You're impossible."

"I have a better idea. I can be bait," you said, watching Matt's expression carefully. "I'll stumble out onto the streets tonight — you know, all 'Woe is me, I've got a sprained ankle' — and that'll attract every mugger in the vicinity, seeing a vulnerable girl alone. They won't be able to help themselves, they'll just be dying to come over and rob me. And then, lo and behold! Daredevil dives in and catches all of Hell's Kitchen's criminals in one fell swoop."

Sure enough, you could see an irritated amusement in Matt's mouth, the type that meant he was torn between smiling and getting annoyed. "I'll agree to that plan when Foggy learns how to meditate for more than five minutes at a time."

The waitress arrived and took your orders. You sipped on the water she had delivered, your eyes not leaving Matt's face.

"What is it?" he said, finally. "You're dying to say something."

"Yeah. I want you to admit that it's not my poor high heels you're angry with. You're just worried about me."

"Can't it be both?"

"Leave my high heels out of this and admit it, Matt."

"Fine. I'm worried about you. Does that make you happy?"

"Sure does," you said, squeezing his hands and smiling. "By the way... did I ever mention that I'm head over heels in love with you?"

"Oh, my God."

A/N: This was just a short piece inspired by two separate asks I received that fit together quite well:

Prompt 1: hi!!! could you do a hurt/comfort where reader breaks her heel and sprains her ankle while walking home and matt finds her??

Prompt 2: May I request a Matt fic? I've been seeing girls on YouTube that test their heels out by running around in front of their s/o, and I thought it would be really funny with a clumsy reader and Matt having an absolute heart attack. Thanks!

Just realized that I completely altered the first prompt by having them meet at a diner rather than Matt finding her, so I apologize! I hope it was still alright to read :) happy whumptober, everyone!

[neonoddeye]

A lesson in physics | College! Gojo Satoru x Reader

In these trying times, I will provide: a college au! I actually wrote this as a birthday present for my best friend, but I wanted to post it here as well. It’s also my first chaptered fic, yay! I hope you enjoy :)

CONTENT INCLUDES: AFAB! Reader, cursing, Gojo and reader are both in college and everything is NORMAL and HAPPY, Gojo is a frat boy, enemies to friends to lovers, will be NSFW in later chapter (MINORS DNI)

Monday, 12:00pm

Working with Satoru Gojo on a class assignment was a horror you only conjured in your nightmares. And as you look at the physics class assignment on your laptop screen, you realize you wouldn’t be waking up from this one any time soon.

“Oh god, him?” Your roommate Shoko joins your gaze of disgust as she glances at your fate. “You’re gonna end up doing the whole thing by yourself!”

“Don’t remind me” you whine, leaning back in your chair and placing a hand on your forehead in dramatic distress. “Can I switch with you?”

“Hell no, I’m securing this A with Nanami” Shoko laughs, patting you on the back as a poor attempt at pity. “But we’ll be praying for you.”

You and Shoko had just left said physics class, the two of you lounging at the library to get a head start on the week’s assignments. You couldn’t help but truly stress over your predicament instead of starting on your homework, however: everyone and their mom knew of Gojo Satoru and his infamous Kappa Alpha frat boy title. Ever since he was on your dorm floor freshman year of college, you’ve harbored a vendetta against him. While you were immune to his mesmerizing blue eyes and undeniable charisma, most of your friends weren’t, and pursued him in droves. With every poor girl’s broken heart that he stomped on, your hatred grew, until you infamously bashed him at his frat’s party that same year. While his reputation was almost impenetrable in the eyes of his male friends, you definitely did a little damage to him from the outside. Two years later, you never thought you’d have to deal with him again- until you both enrolled in the same physics class. Hell, you didn’t even think he had the brain capacity to handle a STEM major. And now, you have to work alongside him; you can’t help but question the universe and wonder what you ever did wrong to deserve this.

“Guess I’ll get his contact info” you sigh, pulling up the list of class emails and scrolling for his name.

“Hey! Y/N, right?” You hear a familiar voice ahead of you. Your lab partner, Gojo Satoru, has already found you in the library. The devil works hard, but Gojo works harder. 

“Hey Gojo” you reply monotonously, barely glancing at him over your laptop screen. He’s dressed like a poster frat boy, wearing a dark blue knitted sweater vest over a crisp white button-up paired with slim khakis. His paper white hair is unkempt yet tamed, and his irritating blue eyes sit behind round gold-rimmed glasses. His trademark smirk is replaced by an awkward smile as he approaches you; it’s good to know your blow at his ego was permanent.

“Uh, long time no see” Gojo continues while messing with his disheveled hair, “did you see we’re working on that project together?”

You can’t help but let out a belated sigh. “I sure did. You have any ideas for it yet?“

“Oh nah, I haven’t really looked at the whole thing yet. Do you wanna start it right now? I have time.”

“Oh uh, I have to leave for class in 15 minutes.” In reality, your next class starts in an hour; you just didn’t feel like talking to him right now. Still, you keep up the act by packing your belongings to head out.

“Oh that’s all good. Here,” Gojo hands you his phone, presenting an empty contact card for you to fill out. “Let’s set up a time to work on it later. We have two weeks, but I wanna get it over with”.

“Well, that’s something we agree on” you mutter, filling out your contact info on his cracked iPhone screen. You then hand his phone back to him and rise from your seat. “I’m usually free after 4pm. Just remember to actually text me back, Gojo. I know you’re not very good at that.”

“I will, I will,” he chuckles, holding up his hands in surrender to your threat. “Promise!” he holds up a pinky and winks at you, to which you roll your eyes and head back towards the door. You’re really hoping these next two weeks aren’t as difficult as you think they’ll be.

Thankfully, Gojo actually responded, and the two of you agreed to Tuesday evening at the library. You’re currently waiting for your project partner at a cozy corner desk, taking out your notes and laptop to begin the assignment. It’s 5 minutes past the agreed upon time when Gojo saunters up to you; honestly, you thought he’d show up later or forget entirely, so you’re not upset.

“Sorry, club meeting ran a little later than usual,” he says as he slumps into the couch across from you, his legs dangling over the armrest. “I got you this, too,” he adds, sliding a Red Bull over to you. “I don’t know how long we’re working on this tonight, but I thought I’d get us both one, just in case”.

“Oh, thanks. I got something already, though,” you reply, picking up your thermos of espresso and politely pushing back the offering. “What club are you in?” It seems like you’re both attempting to make amends to make the project a little easier.

“I’m in an astrophysics club. It’s nothing much, tho”, he shrugs. We just talk about nerdy shit and occasionally do projects and stuff.”

“I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t expect that from you”, you lean back in your chair, now slightly interested in the man before you.

“Yeah, I actually do more than just party.” Gojo adds while taking out his own supplies. “Believe it or not, I’m not the same guy I was freshman year”.

“You’re gonna have to prove it to me, I’m afraid”, you retort. If he’s trying to charm you, it won’t work. 

Gojo clears his throat. “Anyway, here are some ideas I had for the project”. He slides his notebook closer to you, revealing a page full of bullet points aptly titled “project ideas.” His handwriting is messy, but legible, and as you read his notes you’re reluctantly impressed by his insightfulness and creativity. Gojo reveals that he actually stayed behind at his club to relay his ideas and ask for tips, admitting he was more interested in the material than he thought he’d be. As you lean over the table to point out one particular idea, you catch a hint of cologne from him. You can tell it’s not a cheap scent, with notes of mandarin and cypress above amber and leather. His hair is slightly neater than it was yesterday, and up close you can tell that his skin is flawless. You’re almost annoyed at his effortlessly attractive appearance; no wonder so many people fawn over him. 

An hour passes briskly, with the two of you making ample progress with the project. Surprisingly, the two of you work well together, even getting off topic a few times to discuss frivolous subjects. You learned that he likes watching cartoons and reading, and wants to go into research after college. You can’t help but feel a little guilty for holding a grudge over him for so long; it seems like he really has changed. 

After 30 more minutes, Gojo stands up to stretch. “Alright, we’re done with the outline”, he yawns, taking a sip of his Red Bull. “I don't wanna keep you too long, how about we call it for the night?” 

“Sounds good to me”, you yawn in response, closing your notebook. “It takes me a bit to walk home, anyway”.

“You’re walking home by yourself? At dark?” Gojo questions you with genuine concern in his words. “I can drive you home, if you want”.

“Oh no, I’m fine. I do it all the time”, you shrug.

“It’s no big deal to me”, he flashes a small smile. “I respect having the balls to walk home alone at night, but I’d be a dick to not offer”.

“Sure, why not. I appreciate it”. You smile back, getting up to follow Gojo to his car. As you walk with him to his car, the two of you excitedly discuss a new anime you’ve both been watching. You didn’t take him as the type to be an anime guy either, but he’s surprised you a lot today. When you get to his car, it’s as nice as you expect it to be: a slick silver BMW with a clean interior, accompanied by a new car smell. Of course he has money, too. He’s not a menace to society on the road either, and the low hum of his Spotify playlist accompanies the small talk. 

“By the way”, Gojo pipes up after a moment of silence, “I feel like shit for how I acted to your friends freshman year. You were right to call me out like that”.

“I know”, you reply, with a hint of playfulness in your tone. He chuckles in response. 

“No offense taken. But really, I hope we can be on good terms now. I had a good time, even if we were working on an assignment.”

“Unfortunately, I think I did too”. He’s pulling up to the entrance of your apartment complex, and parks neatly by the door. 

“Next time, how about we work at my place? Only if you want to though, just thought I’d suggest some place quieter”.

“I’m down”, you nod, “I could bring snacks, too”. 

“Sounds like a deal. See you on Thursday, Y/N”. He gives you a short wave as you exit his car, and even makes sure to watch you get inside safely. As you walk to your apartment, you battle with your renewed thoughts of the frat boy you once detested. After being alone with him for an extended period of time, you hate to admit that you can see the appeal; he’s handsome, charming, and seems to have mellowed out over the years. But should you really be giving Satoru Gojo a chance?

Fuck it, you might.

(Stay tuned for part 2!)

[hyperfixatedfandomer]

Divine fire, hellish greed: dark fantasy AU concept

“ A willful boy with a formidable curse.

A mad king revived in a new form.

What has destiny in plan for each? ”

•

Lore/context (can be skipped):

In a land of wonders and magic, two races have long since coexisted in its seas, forests and deserts; Humans and the Na’vi. Legends often spoke that Na’vi stemmed from forest spirits, who inhabited Eywa’s embrace in times long forgotten, while humans are said to be descendants of stars hanging over the land.

Some say that when a star falls, a human is born. They are often thereby called “sky-people”, or “people of the stars”.

However, because their origins are not of the land, they never possessed a kuru; a way to bond with their new home. As result, many began forgetting great mother’s teachings, and that lead to the emergence of kingdoms. Na’vi followed suit, but not fully, their towers built of stone found above ground and hugged by sprawling vines, keeping them steady, connected.

Human kingdoms grew higher and higher, pale and perfect in their shape, perhaps to reach the stars they have long ago abandoned, and that brought them at conflict with their home. Digging and mining disrupted a fragile balance, yet kingdoms, one in particular, kept growing amidst the chaos.

Its king, Selfridge, was notorious for his greed, which soon led him to discovering a new, never before seen type of magic. One that could make the grandest of ships fly as if they were lighter than a feather, and create weapons of unthinkable destruction. Life-force magic was capable of performing incredible feats as long as wielded by an experienced sorcerer, but there was no such thing as an infinite resource. Everything, including magic, had to draw from something, and draw it did, from the life of Eywa’eveng herself.

As ships soared, the magic drained energy from land itself, from the tiniest sprout to the strongest pali. Not even the mighty thanator could draw breath once the spell went into effect. It killed all which is in sight to fuel itself.

That is the cost, and majority of humans accepted it. Those who didn’t, migrated to Na’vi kingdoms to live amongst those who shared their reverence for nature.

One of life-force magic creations were avatars. Creatures conjured by trapping stolen energy and giving it shape of its own, allowing an attuned human mind to travel into it while their primary body slept. That way, knight Jake Sully became a spy in the Omatikaya kingdom. However, not long after, he realised the devastating effect of their magic and how it ultimately doomed everyone in Eywa’eveng to annihilation. Running away with other Na’vi sympathisers, he tamed the legendary Toruk, believed by most to be a divine guardian spirit of the great mother embodied by a fire-breathing apex predator, and rallied the clans against a growing empire, which, shortly after Jake’s escape, was overtaken by commander Quaritch in a military coup. The new king was insane, obsessed with power and revenge for Sully’s betrayal, but said madness ultimately lead to his defeat, as princess Neytiri of Omatikaya pierced him with her father’s arrows.

It was a new era of peace, and humans refusing to side with the Na’vi were told to leave Eywa’s lands.

Not everyone had such option though.

•

Story:

A boy with honey brown eyes and blonde curls was found in the abandoned Hell’s Gate castle after the great battle, allegedly the son of Miles Quaritch himself; and as no one dared to take him in, Mo’at made a decision that the child was to be kept in their kingdom, under Na’vi’s watchful eye.

Years passed and the Sully royal family grew, now having four children of their own! One, an adopted girl birthed by Grace Augustine’s avatar.

The human child meanwhile grew around plethora of workers around the village and was eventually taught the craft of caring for pali, the ikran, and the wild gardens. He grew into a crude, stubborn, but hard-working and gold-hearted stable boy, always eager to help, and spending every minute of his free time around the royal children who took an immense liking to him, and eventually saw him as a brother.

Although Spider, as he was now called for his affinity to climbing, never experienced parental love, he tried not dwelling on his circumstances and keep his head high…but it was never that simple.

As humans of the destroyed kingdom began returning, trying to rebuild as early as when Spider Socorro turned ten, a wild Toruk has been sighted in the fringes of Omatikaya territory. In the span of five years, said Toruk became a looming threat, as he was vicious and terrorised villages with a fury never before seen. Many whispered that it was the great mother’s wrath from seeing malicious sky people return to her lands.

In one of those attacks, at night, innocent farmers lost their lives to the fire-breathing dragon, and as princess Kiri ran to the stables the next morning to share tragic news with her brother…there was not a trace of him.

In fact, there was no trace of Spider in the entire castle. He vanished.

.

Meanwhile, the mad king has been revived, brought to life using previously discovered magic, and together with his most loyal undead men and women, whom he deemed jackals, got a task of upmost importance from the new queen herself; Francis Ardmore. She was a regal one, standing tall and proud despite her small height in comparison to the old ruiler, and promised him a high rank in the court if he does as told and stays loyal.

“I’m asking this because I don’t wish to offend you by underestimating your abilities…why do you trust me not to overthrow you the first chance I get, to take what is rightfully mine?”

“Because the cavern between the Na’vi and humans has never been wider, all thanks to what you’ve done to the Omatikaya kingdom, commander. Whatever influence you have left exist under my rule. If you want a chance at power again, a chance at trust from these people, you’ll need me.”

And so, with the promise of reward dangling over his head, Quaritch and his jackals set out on a journey towards the kingdom of ash to which only he knew the route, said to be inhabiting the most capable mages to have ever walked Eywa’eveng. The new empire will need a good alliance to thrive.

Barely a week into their journey, the squad got their hands on a curious catch. A boy with a mane of golden curls who snuck into their camp at night to steal some much needed food. Too bad that Zdinarsk had gotten the gift of foresight with her revival.

“And who might you be, little one?” Quaritch asked with a smirk.

“Spider…S-Socorro…” The teen responded, shaking, but determined.

The smirk slid off of king’s face. He couldn’t help but introduce himself, and inquired as to what an heir of his had forgotten in dangerous forest depths.

“I’m sick. I’m looking for a cure. Was told that there were mages in the south who knew a remedy to anything.” He mumbled.

“Well isn’t that a lucky coincidence? I think I know who you’re looking for. It’s the ash kingdom court mages, no?”

Spider gasped.

“I know my way to them.” He got down on one knee. “And I can lead you there, boy, but not without payback. Say, that jewellery on your neck is awfully familiar. You Omatikaya?”

The boy kept silent.

“I reckon you are, so how about this…” He smiled again. “You lead us to the mountain dragons; the banshee your people tame, and we give you a ride all the way to the mages.”

Spider had no choice as the king would never willingly let go of his newfound heir, but Miles wanted to present him with an illusion that would keep him docile.

“…alright.”

.

And so they travelled for what was undoubtedly the longest week of Spider’s life. The mad king he’s been told of, who ravaged the lands that were home to him, now walked side by side with the boy as if nothing happened. It angered him, how there seemed to have been no remorse on his end, and Socorro hated being angry. It made his chest burn.

Quaritch was not blind to the hate of course, but it was worth it. He never thought he’d have the boy with him again, and yet there he was; grown, sassy, bold, and with a smile so bright it could cure death itself.

Perhaps this journey was not for nothing after all.

.

Barely a second week in, the dam had burst. A minor inconvenience between father and son erupted into a loud argument over history, morals and convictions. Quaritch should have expected it. Should have known that a child of his, abandoned by their father, would bear a painful grudge. That the wound was deeper that the blonde originally let on with his constant quips, but he never could have expected what came after.

“I HATE you! YOU’RE A MONSTER!“ The boy roared, and jackals stepped away in growing caution, noticing as something in his chest glowed through the tunic.

The roars turned animalistic, agonising, feral. Noises neither a human nor Na’vi could muster.

Spider clawed at the ground as his own fury at Quaritch, at the recoms, at the humans, consumed him. Transformed him in a bright flash of fire.

“…kid..?..”

But there was no child at the clearing.

Only the Toruk; fire-breathing king of skies.

Wrath of Eywa personified.

.

(Dividers: @cafekitsune)

Author’s notes: I’ve been cooking this AU for a really long time with the help of my bestie @dirtytransmasc , and there is an insane amount of lore and story to cover, but only if you guys are interested :) feel free to go to my ask box

[momentswithmani]

Understanding Black Men

The psychology of black men is distorted, and misunderstood through different lenses. Whether it’s through society, generational wounds, slavery, the entertainment industry, or families/communities. We commonly hear about the experiences of black men through wounded black women who had failed experiences, wounded black women who fail their sons, and the societal stereotypes that have existed for decades. It’s a rare occurrence that we hear the experience of being a man through a black man himself. Mainly, due to decades of them being silenced for speaking their truth, and them having a voice would threaten their manhood.

When getting to know a black man, these are some factors to consider: their upbringing, their childhood, their personality, their character, and their spirituality. Understanding the layers of who they are gives you an opportunity to learn them. Getting to know their nature usually comes with compassion, and empathy. Missing out on the opportunity to learn them for yourself, because of the outside noise, leads to ignorance. In order to formulate your own perspective, it requires introducing yourself with openness, considering that the way they interacted with the men in their generation could differ from how you interact with them in your generation.

When communicating with black men of different ages, it requires a different perspective. Comparing him to his low quality father is detrimental to how he will view himself growing up. Talking down on him will be detrimental to how he views himself. Many women will insinuate that it’s not that big of a deal, think about it this way….

Your mother can talk down on you: cursing you out, telling you you’ll never be anything, neglecting your emotional/mental needs, being manipulative, etc.

This behavior comes with a price. More than likely, you’ll struggle with self confidence. You grow out of your hobbies/passions. Your psychological development becomes stunted because of the abuse. Although men and women are built different biologically, the impacts of how men grow up are similar.

The way you speak to a man, can make or break how receptive a man is to you. If you speak negative energy into him, that becomes a wound to his heart. If you invalidate his emotional needs, he shuts himself down emotionally. If you invalidate his concerns/vulnerability, he’s less receptive to communication. If you brag to the world about how worthless he is, he will shut you out to dissolve himself from embarrassment.

We rarely credit black men of all ages for their spiritual responses to what they experience, whether it’s good or bad. This is due to how aware + observant they are. Because of how much they’re used to being neglected, it teaches them to neglect themselves. They are then forced into survival mode to fend for themselves, even if it includes indulging in detrimental behaviors. This plays a major role in them suppressing their vulnerability, which stems from the hardships they’ve been told they needed to endure in the name of “manhood”. Because black men are adultified at young ages, it strips away the humanity of how they exist.

It’s easy for us to be frustrated with black men, simply for existing. It is necessary to open a space for compassion + understanding regarding their stories. They are human beings, who are navigating life in the most effective way they can, or think they can, in the midst of learning who they are as boys, young men, and men. Their silence is mistaken for their lives being easy flowing. Their upbringing neglecting their needs at a young age is mistaken for privilege. Their physical appearance being fetishized, is mistaken for appreciation. If we’ve been given the ability to create a narrative on who they are for the past decades, they deserve to redefine the narrative based on their experiences, their manhood, and who they are as people.

[bobaheadshark]

using ao3 search makes me feel like i'm doing Important Science. Advanced Researcher of the Cursed Smut. Discoverer of Random Fics and Pairings. PhD in Rarepair Situations.

i am charting new ways to galaxies never seen before (mpreg). exploring wormholes that go against the will of god (cannibalism as a metaphor for desire). trying new foods (8k dead doves oneshots) and enthusing about the familiar ones (55k slice of life fluff).

i am a person of knowledge, a wielder of the boolean search. a woman in STEM if you will (Sexy Times Eminent Major).

[haecien]

National confess to your crush day!

Vocal unit x reader

Seventeen x reader texts

Warnings- STEM major slander/j, cursing

Genre- Non idol, fluffyfyufusirhjf

Pf unit | Vc unit | Hh unit

(Literally also thank you guys sm for 100 followers😭🤧🤧🤧❗❗❗)

General taglist: @woozvc

[forestmossling]

okay, time for some serious caleo bashing (i’ve been gearing up for it for a while).

so we have leo valdez - admittedly the loneliest and saddest character in pjo (fuck people who think it’s nico because it’s not, and i can elaborate on that in another post if anybody wants me to). his entire character arc is formed by his loneliness - he loses his mother at a very young age, so he’s left without any real, loving family or any kind of safe, stable home for the majority of his adolescence, because foster care throws him around (or he himself is forced to run away) he doesn’t get an opportunity to form any real connections. and then, finally, he gets piper and jason. except he doesn’t, really, because they mostly ignore him in favor of dealing with their rocky relationship. he seemingly gets a family - the hephaestus cabin - but he quickly becomes a social pariah there too because of his abilities and general demeanor (which is, in fact, a coping mechanism). and yes, later on we see him getting on better with his siblings, but that doesn’t happen for a good long while.

his loneliness becomes even more glaringly obvious on argo II. i don’t think i have to remind you of the whole narcissus and echo ordeal. and the way absolutely everyone is paired off, except for him. so he’s basically abandoned by everyone throughout all of hoo - by his family (godly and otherwise) and by his friends and those he tries to befriend.

so how to fix that? how to rid leo of this staggering loneliness he carries around like a suffocating cloak three sizes too big? well, i would say, let’s improve platonic relationships on argo II and let these kids be friends with each other instead of just getting tangled up in all possible variations of romantic affairs. let leo visibly (ON SCREEN (or well, on page)) get closer to his godly siblings and find a family he longed for since he lost his mother. let him find out from reliable people who love him, that his powers and what happened to his mother don’t make him a monster. let him thrive in a safe environment where he isn’t pressured to play an entertainer just to be kept around, for once.

but what did rick decide? LET’S GIVE HIM A GIRLFRIEND!! let’s throw a cute girl at leo, blatantly ignoring the fact that most of his issues stem from lacking a loving family and genuine platonic companionship, none of which will be solved by a romantic relationship. and not just throw a girl at him - let’s dump him on a cursed island which magically forces the girl in question to automatically fall in love with anybody who lands on it. let’s leave caleo no other choice but to fall in love with each other, because calypso has no other way of getting off the ogygia and leo feels guilty about leaving her there alone and also she’s his only chance of survival. sure, why the fuck not.

and i understand why caleo would be attracted to each other. when they first met and when i first saw them slowly warming up to each other, i genuinely could see them becoming a badass power couple and had pretty high hopes for them.

but then they get off the island. and well. everything goes to shit. calypso resents leo for losing her immortality, and leo somehow? feels guilty about it??? (if memory serves me right. if it doesn’t, well, i have a lot more points i’m completely confident in). every time we see them talk to each other, it’s calypso throwing jabs at leo which aren’t returned in kind. and, i hate to break it to you guys, but if it’s one person just talking shit at another without another doing the same (very likely because leo’s afraid she will dump him just like everyone else did the moment he steps a foot out of line, which, again - is a VERY BAD FUCKING SIGN), that’s not flirty banter, that’s just straight-up bullying. and let’s not forget the great hits by calypso such as “oh my gods, he doesn’t experience empathy in all the same situations and the same way i do, he’s a heartless fucking monster. hey, leo, you’re a heartless fucking monster for not empathizing with people exactly the same way i do!”, when leo was explicitly shown to struggle with empathy and social interactions in general in canon, because it’s easier to deal with machines. again, largely because he had little to none healthy socialization growing up and he does feel empathy, but just expresses it differently. and i would hope that his actual girlfriend would know that about him and, instead of judging him for it, would learn how to work around it or at least understand that people can be different and that’s not a bad thing, especially when it comes to a person you (are supposed to) love. and even if it was an actual faux pas on leo’s side, i can let it slide because he’s a teenage boy with adhd. calypso, however, is not, and i really feel like a shit ton years old immortal sorceress should know better (and yes, the huge fucking age gap in a relationship with a minor, which is another can of worms entirely, but i will skim over it for now, because there are actually ways for it to be handled better, it just wasn’t).

and, however it looks like, i genuinely don’t have any particularly strong feelings about calypso outside of the way she treats leo. she was admittedly dealt an incredibly shit hand and all the continuously-getting-her-heart-broken-because-of-the-fucking-gods deal is a lot to get over. but that doesn’t excuse how she treats leo. it’s not even a question of “does she really love him?” for me, because i find myself wondering if she even likes him in general, just as a person. and that’s another giant fucking red flag.

their whole relationship just feels like rick incredibly carelessly tied his loose ends, like “oh! there are two characters i don’t know what to do with. well, let’s just smush them together. that will surely solve everything and let me get on with the rest of the story!” (and maybe not even carelessly but, dare i say, uncaringly)

but, okay, let’s say they’re both severely traumatized and just get off to a rocky start. alright. well, how will rick work on improving their relationship and finally resolving the issue of leo’s deep-seated loneliness? oh. he won’t. he will make them leave camp half-blood indefinitely. the place where leo found his first real family, where all of his friends are. where he was, for the first time in the series, shown some actual recognition, respect and care by the other campers (which they did by… hitting him. but considering all the demigods are weird with affection, i will let that one slide), just as he finally got close with his siblings. rick will make them stay at waystation and get a “normal teenage experience” by… going to high school. and i don’t think i’m wrong in assuming leo’s average high school experience prior to this was getting bullied and isolated. which will probably not change just because he goes to a new school in a city he doesn’t know with his girlfriend who hates him.

i’m sorry, but - WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK???

and i understand that letting himself believe that leo dating calypso and changing scenery would magically solve all of his problems was a lot easier for rick than laying huge groundwork for leo finally finding his place in chb and building a bunch of close interpersonal relationships with other campers that would let him feel at home somewhere at last and also breaking his problematic tendency of just pairing teenagers off with each other instead of letting them bond platonically. and i’m also not saying there aren’t A LOT of great platonic relationships written by rick (percy’s family and his friendship with grover, basically all of nico’s immediate circle, all of will’s immediate circle, i really was mostly talking about the argo II debacle there). but this feels a little bit too much like carelessly tying loose ends again for my comfort.

and it’s not like rick just doesn’t realize leo’s motivations and biggest struggles. he doesn’t just make leo a flat comic relief character: he encourages us to empathize with his loneliness and pain all throughout the journey on argo II, he forces us to notice how hard he takes being the seventh, always forgotten wheel. he just… doesn’t really do anything about it.

i am a firm believer in the fact that leo just didn’t need a romantic relationship at all throughout the series. it wouldn’t solve any of his issues (and romantic relationships shouldn’t be founded on the goal of solving anybody’s issues, that’s just a disaster waiting to happen), it would most likely distract him from building a wide and stable support system he actually needs and throw him headfirst into something he, in his current state, would not be equipped to properly deal with. but even if he did enter a romantic relationship at some point, it definitely shouldn’t have been the main point and the grand finale of his story, and it definitely shouldn’t have been with calypso. i can see him with frank (i genuinely remember reading their interactions in books and thinking that they would make a very interesting and fun couple with their dynamic, and the conflict of a guy whose literal survival depends on staying as far away from the fire/a guy who spontaneously ignites all the time would be really tasty and fun to explore, you could throw a good ol’ icarus and sun metaphor in there, but maybe that’s just me), hell, make it leo/frank/hazel (even though dating a guy you only seem to be attracted to because he’s a many-times-grandson of a boy you loved in the past doesn’t seem like a very good basis for a relationship, but at least she wouldn’t treat him the way calypso did). hell, i started really warming up to the idea of valgrace, because, even though their relationship wouldn’t have the time and space it needed to properly develop in canon (rip jason, i love you), they would have a really fucking cool and sweet dynamic. who if not jason grace can understand feeling lonely in a room full of people? who if not jason grace can appreciate leo for all the great things that he is while making him feel genuinely loved, instead of belittled? who if not leo can get jason to loosen up, make him realize he doesn’t have to carry the world of the whole world on his shoulders alone, become the ride-or-die jason never really got to have? but well, that’s me veering a little bit too much towards speculations, and i tried to work mostly with what canon had given us.

anyway. (i promise i’m almost done.) all of this doesn’t mean that i hate rick riordan - i admire his work on pjo, i really want to read the other series in riordanverse, and the sole fact that i had so much material to go through speaks for the immense work he does on giving depth to his characters. and i know he can write good romance: percabeth is one of the very few straight pairings i can not only stomach, but actually love immensely, solangelo is genuinely one of the best things to ever happen to this god-forsaken planet, in my humble opinion, and apollo’s entire history of past relationships has me obsessed (especially the commodus part. i cannot stress enough just how much feelings i have about their story). this is caleo bashing, not rick riordan bashing. but i just feel like he didn’t care enough to give the same carefully thought-out beautiful relationship to leo, and that, regretfully just happens sometimes, especially if there are as many important characters as in pjo, and we can’t really do anything about it. but as an unhinged leo valdez enjoyer and appreciator i’m very sad to see his story go that way, because he really deserves better.

and that’s about it!

[galene-gothic]

𝖱𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱

✬ They're a traditional person in many ways and also a traditional lover

✬ They'll get you flowers, buy you stuff and help you out with everything that they can help you with once they're sure that they like you (even when you've not entered a relationship yet)

✬ They are extremely dependable and expect the same from their partner too

✬ They might have major taurus placements

✬ They're really well mannered, the type to not speak with food in their mouth or the type to wait for the person who bought them the meal to eat first

✬ They might also avoid cursing in public

✬ You'll see them as someone who knows a lot, they might know about various different topics that aren't even related to each other

✬ They're a very wise and mature person, they've learnt a lot throughout life and have a strong moral code

✬ They want a committed and strong relationship that's also a very strong investment (they won't be interested in marrying or dating someone who has nothing to offer)

✬ They care about the finer things in life and are extremely ethereal

✬ They make everything around them beautiful, comfortable and luxurious to their own liking

✬ They are a sensual and materialistic person who wants the finer things in life and will work for it

✬ They like to be taken seriously but they are actually very funny

✬ People might not express or be able to see how wise they are at times but the ones that do really appreciate them

✬ They have people who can't forget them even after a long time has passed by

✬ Your beliefs will probably align with each other's and when they don't, you'll learn from each other

✬ They prefer deep conversations over small talk

✬ They enjoy travelling and don't mind paying for everything as long as you're good company according to them

✬ They want a 'grow old together' kind of love

✬ They believe in themself but they have the tendency to be incredibly hard on themself

✬ They're grateful about life's experiences though

✬ Even though they're traditional, they understand the need for space, they'll give you enough space to grow and experience life and will expect the same in return

✬ You'll be able to count on them whenever you're struggling

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱

✬ They're an optimistic and confident person

✬ They warm up whatever environment they're in

✬ They like expressing themselves (in terms of values and positive emotions) and presenting themselves as a warm and bright person

✬ They're the kind of person that won't dim their light just because it makes others uncomfortable and they do have the tendency to make insecure people uncomfortable

✬ You'll just look at them and wonder how they're so optimistic and open

✬ They're someone who a lot of people look up to

✬ They are the center of attention wherever they go

✬ They're going to be very successful when you meet them and I'm getting that they're already pretty successful in their own ways, they're someone who anyone would look at and can predict that they'll be successful in the future

✬ They know how to have fun and I'm getting that you both will share a bond where when one of you enters the room or conversation, that's when the other thinks to themself 'finally, this place is going to be fun'

✬ They have a lot of willpower to make their dreams come true, they're a hard worker and also a natural leader (people naturally follow them)

✬ They possess a lot of charisma and it stems from their personal integrity and understanding nature

✬ You both will feel really excited but also very sleepy around each other because it's a comfortable and cosy atmosphere

✬ Their positive outlook on life is truly admirable

✬ You'll both absolutely adore each other

✬ You'll both feel so lucky to have met each other, there's a lot of admiration, adoration and understanding towards the other

✬ They go around spreading happiness and know how to grab opportunities

✬ They're a driven individual who knows how to make things happen for them

✬ 'You win some, you lose some, that's life, not me though, I win all, lose none' energy, even when they do lose something they gain an experience, they gain a lesson

✬ You'll feel physically hot around each other because sparks will be flying

✬ They're confident and will completely sweep you off your feet

✬ They'll know how to make you feel like you're the only one in the room, I'm getting a lot of 'pretending to look around the room when they're actually looking for the you' energy here

✬ It'll be difficult to hide your feelings for each other, people around you will notice the tension between the both of you, many will ship you or atleast guess that something's going on

✬ You'll both flirt with each other in many different ways, flirting with eyes, comparing hang sizes and roasting each other

✬ They'll fill your life with excitement and comfort

✬ They'll like your eyes

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱

✬ They really care about their reputation and the way they present themself is very important to them

✬ They might have something that they're really good at

✬ They're a skilled individual who knows how to create the life they wish to live

✬ They're dedicated, ambitious and confident

✬ They are busy achieving their goals and are extremely focused on them

✬ They might be a life path 11

✬ They are diligent and have high standards (both regarding themself and others in their life)

✬ They might be kinda commitment phobic when you first meet them

✬ They inspire and motivate others to be the best version of themselves

✬ One of you really likes wearing black

✬ You'll have a lot of interesting conversations when you're alone with each other but act kinda indifferent when others are around

✬ They're intelligent and cautious with who and what they invest their energy into

✬ They present themself as a go getter who's charming, warm and has a lot of energy

✬ They'll sweep you off your feet and you'll feel really excited around them

✬ They'll be attracted to you like a moth to a flame because I'm getting that they wouldn't want to get attached to anyone when they first meet you

✬ I'm getting a temporary parting here, they'll really miss you during this time, when they'll see you again, they'll just want to come to you and express their feelings but since not much will have happened between the both of you, they'll choose to keep things light

✬ They'll feel really passionate towards you and will eventually just choose to accept it and pursue you

✬ 'Make you mine' started playing, oh my god, that's what the energy will feel like

✬ You might both end up saying mean things to each other, very impulsively too

✬ A crush like energy here, frustration, attraction, denial, happiness, resistance, etc.

✬ They'll be able to see themselves spending their entire life with you really early on but they'll choose not to

✬ You'll be in a similar energy too, 'too tired to date' is the energy that you'll be in when you first meet them but you'll be trying to stay open to love

✬ 'Marry your daughter' started playing, you'll both share an emotional connection right from the start even when you don't want to, this is so cute

[kit-foley]

Nancy Drew Games are 50% off on Steam right now so here are some shitty descriptions of the games for newbies or partners (not in order, also spoilers)

Secrets can kill: dickface high schooler was pushed down a flight of stairs, find out who did it

The Silent Spy: Nancy has mommy issues and cosplays as a spy in Scotland

Sea of Darkness: all of the characters have trauma around a ship. featuring the only canonically queer character.

Deadly Device: tech bro gets electrocuted, who did it oh noooo. Feat: women in stem

Midnight in Salem: Glitch-wise, this is the fandom-equivalent of the first release of FNAF Security Breach but doesn’t nearly slay as hard and they didn’t patch any of the bugs. Haven’t played it but the fandom is 50/50 on it, maybe 80/20 against

Shattered Medallion: off brand amazing race goes wrong, feat. A recurring character who you’re supposed to know

Alibi in Ashes: Nancy didn’t commit arson (this time) so who the fuck did? See also, “I can commit major theft and prod you about your dead mom, but I draw the line at arson.”

The Captive Curse: monster and intergenerational trauma, beautifully told story. Plus lederhosen.

Shadow at the Waters Edge: ghosts and intergenerational trauma, beautifully told story. Plus kawaii

Ghost of Thornton hall; ghosts and intergenerational trauma, beautifully told story. Plus southern people.

The Final Scene: nancys friend who we’ve never met gets kidnapped. Plus magic tricks/Houdini. Plus old man.

The Haunted Carousel: Dead mom plus the most annoying daughter you’ll ever encounter and her emotional support robot. Also you’re supposed to fix a theme park

Danger by Design: Parisian fashion designer with anger issues and also might deny that nazis happened during wwii

Curse of blackmoor manor: British girl says oh no my stepmom is turning into a werewolf

Warnings at Waverly Academy; the trailer for this one said something like “I hang out with teenage girls in this one, it could be my scariest case yet”, basically be prepared to do other students homework. Also immaculate dark academia/fall vibes tho

Phantom of Venice: white boy of the month shows you his seven hour tesserae slideshow and you single-handedly bring down a crime ring while wearing stupid outfits

Trail of the Twister: someone is sabotaging a storm chasing team but Nancy cares more about asking the local general store owner about his dead wife

Secret of the Old Clock: It’s magically 1930 again, this game feels so far off brand from pretty much all of the other ones imo but the music goes HARD and there’s def some homoerotic tensions between a dead old man and his live-in psychic

Legend of the Crystal Skull: make a curio shop owner sneeze, collect glass eyeballs, watch a Gerard Way look-alike cry, and maybe get buried alive

Haunting of Castle Malloy: banshees and letterpress and a pub that conveniently only serves juice. Terrible Irish accents. Try to find a missing groom for a wedding but also enjoy a walking sim that walked so Stardew Valley could run

Creature of Kapu Cave: get stuck in a tourist trap resort by a guy who calls himself Big Island Mike, then get stuck in a forest with an entomologist who makes you do her work for her, then get stuck in a research facility with an angry white guy who makes you do his work and then falls asleep. Music slaps but no idea what the plot of the game is supposed to be. Also do a “freaky friday” style switch with the Hardy Boys every time you call them on your cell phone.

Last train to Blue Moon canyon: picture Paris Hilton inviting you on a train and then she goes missing. Also on the train with you: the worst police detective, Zak Bagans impersonator, and Colleen Hoover-vibes.

White Wolf of Icicle Creek: “I fired. And I missed. I missed again. I got sad. I had a popsicle.”