figuring out you’re asexual is like trying to find a nonexistent needle in a very large haystack except people keep trying to convince you that you’re just not looking hard enough or you’ll find the right needle eventually but the needle just isn’t there and yet everyone else’s is and then you wonder whether or not you actually have a needle and then you spot something that might be a needle but nope it’s just another hay strand and everything is confusing and now the haystack is on fire
honestly it amazes me that out of all the massive amounts of starco content this fandom produces the only one that made it onto Daron’s fanart wall is Trans Marco femslash like what kind of gay needle in a haystack fuckery
“Just how obscure is that job crystal in lore terms?”: a heirarchy
All of the soul crystals still require from the user hard work, and experience in the discipline, to activate:
The wisdom in a soul crystal, however, is not so easily drawn forth - an untrained neophyte cannot simply pick up one of these gems and expect his mind to be flooded with the knowledge of advanced spellcraft or combat techniques. Without first attaining sufficient proficiency and tempering one’s soul to mirror the maturity of the crystal’s contributors, a prospective student will be denied even the slightest glimpse of enlightenment. Thus, as is the case with the more contemporary disciplines, the key to mastering the secrets of a soul crystal lies in diligent study and training.
Below I will attempt to detail how tough the crystals are to come by, and some of the challenges in obtaining and retaining them. I wrote it based on impressions from the lore book, and the quests up to level 40 or so.
Make sure to read the notes for corrections and expansions, as I’m sure people will have some to add!
Request: Reader x jughead where you are there when they take him in and support him through everything lots of love ❤
A/N: Honestly I feel this one was going to be very short only because I can only imagine the scene in episode 7. I know I wasn’t the only one that wanted to punch Sheriff Keller for trying to pin this on Jughead just because “he grew up in the wrong side of the tracks and has a dead beat dad” ooooohhh I wanted to punch him. The name is Jug. Jughead Jones. Also the reader is bit sassier in this imagine.
Words: 1087 Summary: Juggie gets taken in by Sheriff Keller, and Reader gets to see him and comforts him.
Spoilers: PROTECT JUGHEAD AT ALL COSTS!
Warnings: Jughead crying, like what? No he’s such a happy bean don’t make him cry ever again @ Riverdale Writers.
Fun Fact: Did you know Jellybean, Jughead initials are all FP Jones. Jughead- Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third Jellybean- Forsythia Pendleton Jones
Riverdale the small town that once was the epitome of all that was right in the world. Although growing up, you started seeing Riverdale for what it was, the epitome of everything that was wrong with the world. The police only answered to the Blossoms, The Coopers ran any story they wanted whether it be correct or not. But what shook this town was something much darker.
The story goes, Jason Blossom drowned in Sweetwater River after an early boat ride with his twin Cheryl Blossom. The truth later was revealed that Cheryl was just accompanying her brother across the river so he could escape Riverdale. He was leaving to start a new life with none other than Polly Cooper who was awaiting helplessly for the love of her life not knowing about the murder of the father of her child. Jason’s body was later found with a bullet to the head. There was a murderer out there and no one knew who it was. It could be anyone of the citizens of Riverdale the problem was not finding a needle in the haystack, it was finding a needle in a needle stack.
You, Jughead and Betty took it upon yourselves to try and solve this murder because plenty was being covered up by the adults. Jughead the brooding writer, Betty the innocent, and you the planner.
Finding Intel for this mission was not going to be easy. Trev Brown slipped to Betty that Jason was selling his valuables and drugs. You got close to Cheryl and figured out that things at home, that was a façade, she was miserable and sadly the only one who would stick by her side was now gone. A visit to Polly Cooper in the Sisters of Quiet Mercy a Home for Troubled Youth. We figured out Polly was with child and sadly she didn’t know of about Jason’s murder and that they were planning to run away. There was runaway car with plenty of evidence of a runaway Jason, but just our luck someone burned it.
The theories were endless was it The Blossoms hiring a hit man to rid of the troublemaker son who was tainting their “good” name? Was it Hal Cooper who did not want his daughter with a Blossom because of a long family feud? Did Polly do it after maybe Jason tipping her to her parents so she would be sent away and he could run away alone? Was it Cheryl out of pure jealousy of her brother loving someone else that wasn’t her? Was it Alice Cooper with a grudge to last a lifetime? Was it any football player that couldn’t stand living behind Jason’s quarterback shadow? Even a longshot was it The Lodges claiming their rise at Riverdale? Or the sexual predator Jennifer Gibson who now only answered to Ms. Grundy? Was her sob story correct and her abusive boyfriend found her and mistaken Archie for Jason.
But not even you saw the next events coming up imaginable.
You were talking to Archie by the lockers and Sherriff Keller and Principal Weatherbee escorted your boyfriend Jughead to the police station.
“Call my dad” was all that escaped his mouth and you and Archie nodded.
Archie called his dad, so he could contact FP as you made your way to the police station.
After Sherriff Keller finished speaking to Jughead he let you in, to talk to him.
“I didn’t do it (Y/N)” He claimed as you took a seat across him.
“Of course, I was with you, and I know who you are” you replied while grabbing his hands.
“Those paradise lost kids went to death row because they wore black and they listened to Metallica” He chimed in his wide open trying to hold in tears “I don’t want to be a scapegoat (Y/N)” he continued as a tear escaped and you swiped it with your hand.
“I’m not going to let that happen” you answered as he let out a sigh “all the evidence against you is circumstantial, were going to get you out of here Juggie” you claimed as he squeezed your hands.
“Is my dad even here?” he questioned you with a hope in his eyes.
“Archie’s here” you paused “with his dad, they’re talking to the sheriff” you admitted as he looked down letting go of one of your hands so he could clean up his nose with his jacket and sniffed.
“No one knows where your dad is” you informed Jug as Archie’s dad was fixing things up with the Sherriff and lied about Jughead’s alibi to get him out of there.
“Hey I’m here, and I care and I am not going anywhere Jug” you reassured your boyfriend.
“Thanks (Y/N)” Jughead grabbed your hand and laid a small kiss on it.
“What did Kevin’s dad say to you?” you questioned Jughead and he shifted in his seat.
“Nothing” Jughead muttered.
“C’mon Jug, what is it? You can trust me” you responded.
“He brought up that incident when I was little, the one I told you about, and the fact that Jason and his Goonies bullied me and of course my deadbeat dad as he worded it” he recounted “I am the perfect scapegoat” Jughead continued.
“That Asshole” you retorted “Who does he think he is? Stigmatizing you because of factors that you have no control over” you interjected, the blood in your body boiling.
“Hey, hey calm down, wasn’t it you that said everything was going to be fine” Jughead claimed.
“Well, yeah, but who does he think he’s kidding, he wants a killer, so he’s going to blame someone because of their background, you said it best Jug. We are not our parents, we are who we choose to become” you spoke up as the fire was building up inside of you “You are not getting this pinned on you, I will not let that happen and he-” your rant was interrupted by Sherriff Keller stating that Jughead was free to go.
“You just wasted time on a stereotypical assumption that could’ve been used to actually catch a murderer on the loose” you fired back at Sherriff Keller as Jughead grabbed your wrist taking you away.
“Really (Y/N/N) now you could be a suspect” Jughead pointed out.
“That’ll show him, pining things on my Juggie without any real evidence, plus I have an alibi for July 11” you chimed in as Jughead pulled you in for a hug and placed a kiss on your lips.
3 times simon flirts with jace in serious situations + 1 time jace gives it a try
“Sorry. I know it’s kind of messy.” Jace murmurs as he pushes the door to his room open and leads Simon inside. He normally doesn’t invite people inside his personal quarters, but if he has to see Simon covered in blood for another second he’s going to lose it.
Simon looks around with an arched brow. “Messy? Dude there’s like, two shirts on the ground and some empty water bottles. You should see my room, the floor is covered entirely by like eight feet of clothes.”
“I have seen your room.” Jace reminds him. “When you–”
It’s stupid that he can’t finish the sentence, but he can’t. The word “died” burns his throat and it just feels wrong to say for some reason, like when he was younger and he cursed to act tough around Alec even though guilt burned in his stomach.
Simon seems to pick up on his hesitance and, thankfully, doesn’t continue the conversation. Instead he points at the door to their left in question, and Jace nods.
“I’ll try not to use up your expensive shampoo and conditioner.” Simon promises as he heads into the bathroom.
Jace can’t muster up the strength to quip back. He lays back on his bed and stares up at the ceiling while the sound of the shower drowns out some of the noise from downstairs. He should probably be down there, but Magnus told him to take some time away from all the bodies and he’d quickly accepted that instruction. He feels like a sham, running away from the people he killed while the people most affected clean up his mess.
Jace just wants it to be over. He wants to be years away, or lives away. He wants to be reborn as a mundane whose problems don’t go beyond things like family drama and relationships. Boys his age are supposed to be in college, drinking and partying and flirting. Not killing people accidentally because their evil dad tricked them into touching a magical death sword.
The running water stops abruptly after ten minutes and Simon emerges again, now clean and free of blood. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and Jace realizes that he never gave the guy any clothes, so he rustles through his closet while Simon stands frozen near the door, probably wondering how he’s ended up naked in Jace’s room.
“Here.” Jace throws him grey sweatpants and a green shirt, which Simon appears puzzled over.
“Have you ever worn this?” He asks. “Have you ever worn any color at all?”
“I was saving that shirt for the event that you might need to wear my clothes. Black isn’t your color.” Jace responds and he’s supposed to be sulking, goddamn it, but he can’t help it. Teasing Simon is like blinking or breathing. An involuntary function.
Simon briefly enters the bathroom again to change and then pauses in front of the mirror that hangs over Jace’s dresser, staring at his own reflection solemnly.
Jace is about to make a joke about vampires and mirrors but Simon beats him with a quiet question.
“Is it ugly?”
Jace shakes his head immediately. “It’s badass. Really wicked. I’ll teach you how to use it to pick up girls.”
“Not really on my radar at the moment.” Simon dismisses. Jace watches him trace his finger over the long silver scar that stretches from one side of his neck to the other, which will probably be almost entirely invisible once he has enough time to recover and replenish his blood. According to Magnus.
“Did it hurt?” Jace asks, which is a stupid question. The smirk on Simon’s face is proof that it was a stupid question.
“When I fell from heaven?” Simon finishes, and Jace has to swallow the laugh that’s trying to surface. He knows it’s fucked up, because there’s so much death and misery downstairs. But upstairs it’s just him and Simon, who has the most amused grin on his face.
So everything’s okay upstairs.
Alec is genuinely about to murder someone, and Jace doesn’t blame him.
“I swear, we’ll find who’s doing this.” He declares with the blaze of righteous justice in his hazel eyes. Magnus is looking up at him from where he’s seated with a mix of admiration and sympathy. He reaches up and tugs weakly at Alec’s shirt to get his attention.
“Whoever’s doing this hired a warlock. And the warlock is probably long gone.” Magnus explains. “You won’t be able to find which Shadowhunter is doing this out of everyone in the Institute. It’s the needle in the haystack, darling.”
“But it’s terrible.” Alec insists. “Putting a ward up that makes Downworlders sick when we’re on lockdown? You guys can’t even leave to feel better! I’m going to find them–”
“Alec.” Luke says, putting up a placating hand. “It’ll wear off in a few hours. Until then we’ll just wait it out, alright? No need to kill anyone.”
Knowing his brother, Jace is surprised that Alec manages to actually calm himself down. Maybe it’s the effect of seeing Magnus and Luke, two seemingly invincible people, weak and sick from the effects of the ward that’s currently enclosing the Institute.
“Okay.” Alec finally agrees, crouching down beside his boyfriend, who leans into him immediately. It’s unsettling seeing Magnus look so pale and exhausted, and the smudged make-up on his cheek is so out of place that Jace feels the urge to wipe it off for him. “I’ll take you to bed.”
As soon as Magnus nods, Alec scoops him up entirely and starts off in the direction of the elevator, his boyfriend carried bridal style against his chest. Clary helps Luke to her room and then it’s just Jace and Isabelle, who share a look with each other.
“I’ll be valiant and get Simon.” Jace offers. “Because I don’t want to owe you.”
“You bet your ass you don’t want to owe me.”
He finds Simon looking miserable and exhausted in the library. He’s sitting in one of the overstuffed, comfortable-looking but not actually comfortable armchairs. He looks the same way Magnus and Luke looked: tired and sick.
“Time for bed.” Jace announces, swiftly grabbing Simon by his shirt sleeve and hauling him into an upright position. Simon looks up at Jace as if he’s seeing someone from a parallel universe, his eyes wide and astonished.
“Some asshole put a ward up. You’re feeling sick because of that, so are Magnus and Luke. There’s no point in suffering through it, might as well sleep it off.”
“But I don’t have a room here.”
Jace rolls his eyes. Does Simon think Jace came all the way down here just to tell him he has to sleep on the floor? “You’re lucky I live here, then.”
He drags Simon through the halls and into the elevator, where Simon slumps heavily into the wall and doesn’t even bother to make a snappy comment, which is further proof of how awful he feels. Jace guides him into his bedroom and peels back his blankets, watching Simon make himself comfortable.
“You’ve gotta stop inviting me up to your room.” Simon mumbles sleepily as Jace pulls his armchair up beside the bed and takes a seat, reaching for the book he’s halfway through. “What book is that?”
“The Song of Achilles.” Jace responds, showing Simon the cover. “I’ve read it before. I re-read the beginning, sometimes I skip the end. It’s too sad.”
“Then why do you keep reading it?” Simon asks, looking up at Jace with sleepy eyes. He looks kind of adorable, and Jace is glad that he took care of this rather than letting Isabelle do it.
“Because I guess…I guess I always think maybe it’ll be different this time. Like maybe he’ll save Patroclus. Just because he didn’t do it the first time doesn’t mean he can’t figure it out eventually.”
Simon sits up, supporting himself with his elbow. “Books don’t change.”
“Real life does.”
Simon stares at Jace for a few moments. He seems to be thinking it over, trying to figure out what Jace means. Jace doesn’t even know what he means, but it’s the only way he knows how to express the conundrum. The story of Achilles and Patroclus never stuck with Jace before, but recently he’s been thinking about it a lot.
He snaps out of his musings when he notices the light flush over Simon’s nose and cheeks. Jace leans forward to press a hand lightly to Simon’s forehead and he frowns.
Simon’s smile is instantaneous and Jace immediately realizes his mistake, but it’s too late.
“You’re not too bad yourself.”
“Oh my God. Go to sleep.”
“Alright.” Isabelle runs her hands together and looks absolutely deadly. The shine in her eyes is like the reflection of light from a blade, beautiful but clearly lethal. Her wip is in her hands and her fingers carefully stroke it, delicate with the leather. “I’m taking Clary. Boys, you go everywhere below 14th street and we’ll meet up later.”
“I don’t understand why you get to choose pairs now that you and Clary are dating.” Alec complains, and it’s a little obvious to everyone that he’s more than a little jealous of Clary taking up his brother-sister bonding time.
“When Simon and Jace start dating, I’m sure they’ll do the same thing.” Clary offers in consolation. Jace looks over at Simon, who winks. Alec looks up at the sky, probably praying Magnus will make a sudden guest appearance.
They walk in the direction of their first target, Alec walking a few paces ahead while he chats on the phone with Magnus. It’s as if he’s taking a relaxed stroll through Central Park, not heading toward a demon infestation.
“So uh, what’s the plan?” Simon pipes up. “I know you guys don’t always do plans, but while we have this convenient extra time I figure it wouldn’t hurt. Not that I’m worried or anything, but you guys can still die so I’m just looking out for you–”
“Shush.” Alec says, but there’s no menace in his tone. He’s grown to like Simon, whether he’ll admit it or not. “Jace, make a plan.”
“Just wait for the right moment.” Jace says with a shrug. “And then attack. You’ll know it when you see it.”
“Right, right, cool.” Simon nods. “But what if I don’t?”
Simon does not. It’s fascinating, actually, how oblivious he is to dangerous situations. Jace supposes he can’t blame Simon, because Simon hasn’t been learning this his whole life like Jace has. He’s been playing D&D, sure, but it doesn’t count.
So when there’s a demon advancing rapidly toward Jace and Simon, who has a great vantage point from the top of the fire escape he’d scrambled up to avoid getting bitten, fails to realize what he has to do, Jace is forced to yell out instruction.
“Simon!” He hollers to get attention. “Go down on it!”
Without hesitation, Simon jumps over the railing and lands squarely on the demon that’s now only held away from Jace by a few inches on his blade. There’s a few seconds of struggle before the gnashing teeth near Jace’s face disintegrate into black ash, and Simon looks up from where he’s crouched in the middle of it.
There’s ash in his hair, ichor on his clothes, and a bright smile on his face.
“Want me to go down on you next?”
Jace has to physically force himself to look away and jump into the next attack. Goddamn it.
“Okay. Don’t panic. It’s fine.”
“I don’t think it’s fine. This is right out of The Walking Dead or some shit, Jace, oh my g–, do you think they can pry the door open?”
Jace hits the lock button on the driver’s side door, but nothing happens. Figures the car they chose to hide in during a demon horde passing was a lemon. It was just their luck.
“They can’t pry the doors open.” Jace announces. “They don’t know we’re in here. They can’t see us, so we’re not here.”
“Great. Great. This is just…”
“Great?” Jace finishes. He feels bad for Simon because he knows about his anxiety, about his panic attacks, about how both of those things are more likely to become a problem the longer the demons are outside the car. He looks around for something to distract Simon but comes up empty.
“Hey, I read a book I think you’d like.” Simon says abruptly. He sounds strange, like he’s reciting lines in a play. He’s forcing himself to calm down, Jace realizes. So he plays along and says his line.
“Oh yeah? What is it?”
“The Five People You Meet In Heaven.” Simon responds. “It’s sad, too, but it’s kinda about what you were saying the other day. About getting second chances and having different endings and stuff. It’s–it’s really good. You could have my copy.”
A thought forms in Jace’s head and his lips move before he can stop himself.
“You don’t have a copy from the library?”
Simon looks over, confused. “What? No. I wouldn’t lend it to you if it was from the library.”
“Well–well you should come to the library. With me. So that we–so that I could check you out.”
There’s a brief silence during which Jace considers opening the car door and letting the demons have him for dinner, but Simon’s sudden bursting laugh halts any and all thoughts.
“Dude.” Simon heaves between laughs, wiping at his eyes. “Oh, Jace, that was so bad. Oh man, oh Jace. Oh no.”
“It wasn’t that bad!”
“It was!” Simon wipes at his eyes again.
“Stop that! Your eyes aren’t even watering.”
“They are!” Simon snatches Jace’s hand and pulls it over to his face, forcing Jace to realize that okay, fine, his eyes are watering just a little. But they shouldn’t be, because it wasn’t that funny, and Jace slowly begins to realize that his hand is still resting on the side of Simon’s face and it’s not moving, and Simon isn’t making it move, and they’re staring at each other and leaning in and then,
“Oh.” Jace gasps after kissing for what had to be five minutes. “Wow.”
“Good thing you’re better at kissing than flirting.” Simon laughs, and Jace’s lips burn to be back where they just were.
“Hey. You’ve been flirting with me for weeks, but the very first time I flirt with you…” Jace presses a short kiss to Simon’s lips again. “This happens.”
you blow me away / i’m made of dandelion seeds / you’re a breath of fresh air / my legs are collecting blue and black / but i can’t recall anything to do with it / what’s it like not to feel you are an imposter? / am i faking mental illness? / am i faking attraction to girls? / am i faking attraction to boys? / am i faking it? / am i fooling myself? / i’m a victim of identity theft / who am i? / i wish i was a doll / i don’t think i should have any control over my actions anymore / i feel better when i go on walks / but last month i was too afraid to leave the house / i’m searching for needle answers in my haystack brain / i’m scared when i move out it’ll take me weeks to go buy milk / i’m becoming less functional / a machine left to rust / isn’t eyeshadow supposed to go above your eyes? / all i have are shadows underneath them / dark enough to get lost in / my friend is getting another abortion / her boyfriend’s dad punched him in front of her the other day / burst his lip right open / but i’m still crying over my own insignificant problems / i feel like everything’s about to explode / i bought a blue prom dress because my friends told me to / i wanted to wear red / i’m hunched over on the gravelly beach of my mind / i need to go inland / but i keep returning to throw myself into the icy waters
i wish my thoughts sounded more like music and less like a blender // L.H
please please read before you send jackson more hate.
do the majority of u guys even truly know who jackson is??? bc let me tell you he is the kindest, most caring, most sunshine-y, will-hype-you-up-and-support-you-and-love-you person i’ve ever seen. he would NEVER knowingly/willingly try to hate/disrespect a race. let me break down my defense before y'all start hating.
1. he probably had no say in the hairstyle since it’s the stylist’s job. do u really think models/celebrities get to hand pick their look for their shoots with OTHER companies?? especially one as big and capitalist as pepsi?? this leads to
2. now u guys are probably ready to say that he could have refused to wear the hairstyle. Based on what I know of Jackson, and i do believe i know at least a decent amount considering i’m a very big got7 stan, he would never do it if he truly knew the extent of what cultural appropriation means, because i repeat i strongly believe jackson would NEVER purposefully bash/disrespect another culture knowingly. please remember this and stop painting him as some guy who hates black people and trash talks them daily. this leads to
3. so now u guys are probably ready to say that the fans tried to educate him on the topic but he “brushed off” their concerns through the comment he posted. how did you know, out of the THOUSANDS of comments he got, that he actually read a good, complete, and accurate explanation of what cultural appropriation is?? obviously based on his comment he still does not understand. why are you guys assuming he got the most in depth, researched, backed up explanation on cultural appropriation via his angry fans’ comments??? just shooting him a quick comment telling him that he was culturally appropriating does not equal u all “educating” him. and even if you did give him the best explanation of cultural appropriation, how do you know it didn’t get lost in the sea of other comments?? bc let me tell you, finding an actual educational explanation on cultural appropriation is like finding a needle in a haystack in those comments.
4. so why doesn’t jackson already understand cultural appropriation? in case you didn’t know. THINGS ARE VERY DIFFERENT IN ASIA, specifically south korea. if you didn’t already know, THERE ARE NOT MANY BLACK PEOPLE IN SOUTH KOREA. as a result, the struggles black people face/have faced in the past are honestly very rarely spoken about. we all learn about american history in school right, but how many of u learned about korean history??? or chinese history since jackson’s chinese?? why are u all assuming every korean/chinese/etc was given a full education on everything that happened w slavery to the civil rights movement, etc when u probably can’t name a single dynasty?? pls stop thinking America/Western history/culture/ideals are known by every single person in the world. America. is. not. the. most. important. thing. in. the.
world. if jackson did not know the historical weight of what cultural appropriation carries he. is. not. educated. so stop saying that he’s been educated and is still brushing it off.
5. it’s also not all jackson’s fault. don’t you think pepsi should be getting a little more attention??? they are actually an enormous world wide brand FOUNDED in the US. you would think they would at least be a little bit more aware of this whole situation than jackson.
bottom line is. i don’t think jackson knowingly/willingly was trying to hate on or disrespect any black person/black culture as a whole. please keep all these things in mind before attacking him further and sending malicious comments.
p.s-might be a part 2 when i wake up in the morning bc it’s currently 2am and i’m just writing what’s coming to my tired mind and i’m sure i’m forgetting some stuff
Now that you've mentioned Keith's bike I'm curious about where it may have come from. Another memento of his mom? Something that the people who brought Blue to Earth left behind?
Believe it or not someone was just talking to me about this. Credit to dhaarijmens who I… cannot @ for some reason, for this screengrab:
So the poster up behind Hunk’s head, at a glance, would seem to be an advertisement for the bike. Oh, mystery solved, it’s normal Earth technology and Pidge just had coincidentally never seen anything like it before. Pidge… the… science enthusiast. Hm.
Okay, so I’ve recently realized that us Gothamites have developed the world’s most bizarre vernacular and literally no one outside the city can understand half the stuff we say. As such, in an attempt to be helpful I’ve put together a few examples with translations and sometimes origins:
Riddle me this (do I need to explain this? when you want someone to explain something)
Flip a coin (not used the way other people use it - it serves as more of a abstract threat about getting mad eg. “Don’t make me flip a coin!”)
Pull a Harley (fall in love way too deeply way too quickly)
More [something] than scars (when there is a large amount of [something] - because have you ever looked at Zsasz?)
Like finding Alice (used when something’s hard to find - it’s the equivalent of the saying “Like finding a needle in a haystack”)
Get umbrella-ed (get murdered, usually specifically mob-related; named for that infamous incident when Penguin killed a dude with an umbrella)