#I just had to say something cause it’s one of those things that I see brought up from time to time that drives me nuts

[dduane]

I have been trying to write fic (well, smut) set in a world where certain things are slightly different to serve the fic's plot.

However, each time I try I have run into a problem: my head insists I need to justify the changes - I need to know comprehensive details about how the world works so I can ensure everything is consistent and not too f'd up.

So I get bogged down, and don't write a word. What do?

In your position, I’d sit down and write myself a bible.

This is how I did my prep for Barbie: Fairytopia.* And how I’ve done it for various works of fic presently on AO3… and how I’m doing it right now for the new Sherlock Holmes and the Giant Rats of Sumatra III project. I was taught this art by my animation story editors at Hanna-Barbera, and it’s stood me in good stead. (Peter and I pulled down our first miniseries assignment from a company that told us “we gave great bible.” And that was true.) 😄

When I say “bible” I don’t necessarily mean something that thick! (Though some of mine have been pretty hefty, with one TV project’s bible running more than a hundred pages… because I knew I had skeptical and underinformed TV execs to convince about something historical.) For the kind of purpose we’re describing here, your prep bible could be quite short: maybe looking like a bullet-pointed “shopping list”, five or ten pages long. It can be just as long or short as it needs to be to cover all your salient points.

The idea is simply to put down, in concrete form, a list of the main “different things” you need to know and remember about your alternate universe when you’re working in it. This is where you do your justification work, in as much or as little detail as you need to convince yourself you’ve got the necessary bases covered. The virtual “stage manager” who sits at the back of the theater of the Writing Department in your mind, judging when things are right, will be your guide here, and will advise you as to when you’ve got enough and it’s time to stop. And once this stuff is down on the page, you’ll be a position to judge critically whether everything makes enough sense to work with, and slots together correctly.

This is also a bit like (for the prose part of a project) outlining, in that it’s incredibly freeing. Once you’ve got this background nailed down, you know you can safely turn your attention away from it and get down to the serious business: drama, and the character interactions that express it. (And inevitably as you’re doing the bible writing, you start getting ideas for how the substrate you’re laying down is going to affect the conflicts between and among the characters. The bible stage can be incredibly fruitful this way.)

It would be facile to describe the bibling process as “getting the easy part over with first”. Because sometimes it’s not easy! But it’s worth doing first, because having done this first relieves you of the ongoing anxiety caused by knowing you may have to keep inventing or rationalizing stuff on the fly. (Which can produce the kind of micro-blocks that a writer can generally really do without.) …Not that you’re not going to be inventing things on the fly anyway: that’s a normal part of the writing process. But the biggest and most obvious issues will have been handled already, and you’ll know they have; which is always a weight off one’s mind. And the fewer of those weights you have loading you down, when you’re in the midst of the labor of composition, the better.

Anyway, give it a shot and see how it works for you. And then you can, like the rest of us smut writers, get on to the really pressing business: making sure you haven’t lost track of where all the characters’ arms and legs (and things) are when you’re writing those hot steamy sex scenes. 😏

Hope this helps!

*ETA: My remit on this job did include creating a bible for them. But I write a rough-draft one for myself first, including various meta that I needed but they didn't.

[ghost-in-the-stalls]

I was going to put this in the tags but it's long enough and a direct response that I think I should just add it here.

Yes, to all of this, unironically and unhesitatingly.

For what it's worth for everything I'm about to say, I am a licensed social worker and am currently employed as a mental health clinician. But I have not done any research on this personally and don't have sources at the moment to back this theory up (im going to look into that today actually. I'm curious to see what I find.) This is just all speculation from a professional, so take that for what it's worth. I'll try to add some sources later when I'm not on mobile.

See I agree with what was stated up above about anxiety and depression. I also think its possible it could apply to diagnoses considered less "general," like adhd.

Example. I was recently diagnosed with adhd. The only reason I bothered to pursue the diagnosis was because it was impacting my ability to function throughout my day, and I wanted to try medication. (Personally, I think those are the only times you really should pursue a professional diagnosis, but that's a separate conversation...)

The most notable complaints I had about what I was experiencing were:

- struggling to focus on one task instead of bouncing around between everything on my to do list

- getting overwhelmed and paralyzed from the amount of thoughts and tasks that were in front of me

- struggling to stay on a task that requires my full focus (like reading) because I simply can't give that task my full attention

- conversely, going too long engaging in one task (usually a preferred relaxation task) and neglecting other parts of my life. This typically happens for me on weekends, when I'm trying to play video games instead of think about work.

There are other symptoms that I qualify with, like interrupting people (or struggling not to), being physically jittery and fidgety, being easily angered when certain things happen, etc.

For me, a lot of this ties back to - and was made most clear by - the amount of tasks I have to regularly engage in in my life, and my difficulty keeping up with it all and functioning effectively through it.

Now on one hand, the DSM V is written with a focus on symptoms that interfere with life functioning. And things that stop necessary tasks from being completed tend to fuck our lives up more than something that makes us a little too talkative or fidgety.

But also. And I will say this again and again and again.

A diagnosis is a tool and label. Not a law of the universe. Not a cause. It is a human attempt at categorization of known symptoms, with the intention of relating to effective treatments.

(And that^^^ is something you'll learn from any decent psych 101 class. Mine wasn't decent and I had to go a few classes beyond before we actually started framing it that way.)

With that in mind. Here's a question.

Is my adhd just innate within me, and something that would have been there, regardless of what my life looked like? Is it a specific way my brain deviates from the "norm," and something that, with the right technology and testing, could have been detected and diagnosed without my even noticing any symptoms? Something that exists in a vaccuum without touching my other diagnoses of anxiety and depression?

Or. Is it maybe just a quick and easy way of saying "this person cannot keep up with the stimuli in their life without becoming overwhelmed. And it is effecting their functioning to a notable degree"

That second option is a gross oversimplification, but I hope you take a second to sit with how much the first option sounds like eugenics. If the problem is innate within you, then if we just improve our technology enough to detect it in everyone who has it and separate them from the "norm," then we can weed out the problem, right? Okay, Elon.

How much of my adhd could be a culmination of the fact that I'm overwhelmed with stimuli 24/7 and have lost my ability to focus effectively because of it? How much of my clients' adhd could be a result of the same, possibly combined with the fact that many of them have experienced or are currently experiencing trauma? Which is known to impact ability to focus on tasks, as well as create a hyperactive body system?

This isn't to say adhd is a bogus diagnosis. The same way that the anxiety and depression we experience within our current world state is also not a bogus diagnosis. We're still experiencing it. We still fit the diagnostic criteria. And treatment still helps.

My point of all this is, yes to what's above. And also, maybe it would be good to reframe the ways we view diagnosis in general, to take it a step further, and to recognize the very clear and present causes of what a lot of people are experiencing nowadays. In my opinion, it goes beyond anxiety and depression.

(Also. For the people saying you'll go nuts if you aren't busy. Take a look at why that is. Is that a sustainable way of living? Are you comfortable just existing as yourself? Are you trying to distract yourself from something, or avoiding something uncomfortable? Have you possibly adapted well to the pressure of being constantly busy? Think about it from a different angle)

[nakylvr]

— BACK TO ME

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

summary જ⁀➴ after an argument breaks out and hurtful things are thrown, you leave for a few days, and daniela realizes just how much she needs you

warnings/tags જ⁀➴ angst with happy ending, language, established relationship, dealer!dani au, arguments

now playing જ⁀➴ back to me by the rose

things had been straining recently. with tax season coming up you spent most of your days after work trying to figure out how to not get completely fucked over and get a ton of money taken out. you also got promoted at your job, which was both a blessing and a curse. more money was always a good thing, but your patience was already wearing thin when the argument started.

you had just gotten home, wanting nothing more than to relax when you realized daniela wasn't in the apartment. too tired, you shrug it off and lay down on the couch, still in your work clothes, not bothering to change. you ended up falling asleep faster than you anticipated.

when the front door opened, it was dark outside. you could hear it, but you couldn't find it in you to get up.

"yn?" daniela's voice is heard quietly. "what are you doing on the couch?"

you hum, opening your eyes groggily and looking up at her. "where were you?" you mumble.

"had to run out real quick," she answers. "come on, let's go to bed."

"for hours?" you say before you can think.

daniela's expression changes at your words, but you don't notice past the dark in the room. "i needed to do some stuff," she responds. "i'm sorry." she doesn't know why she's saying it. most likely out of fear that this conversation will spiral out of control after all the bullshit that happened earlier in the year. she doesn't want a fight right now, and she's trying to keep it from happening.

"who were you with?" you ask, slowly sitting up.

"minji," daniela answers truthfully. "she needed some help getting a gift for hanni, then she came with me for a deal that i had to do on the way back."

your eyebrows furrowed together, looking back at her. "you let her go along with you?" you inquired.

"yeah?" dani replies, but it comes out unsure. "i knew you were getting off work late and i didn't want to bother you."

"but you let minji go with you?" you press. "you told me i was the only one."

"well, yes. but minji's my close friend, i–"

"didn't see anything wrong with it?" you cut her off. "cause it looks a little weird when all your clients know me and then you show up with some other girl that's not me? let me guess, you saw keeho?"

"how did you–" daniela gets cut off again by you talking over her.

"he texted me," you tell her. "asking, and i quote 'who this random chick' is with you instead of me. so it's not just me thinking i'm crazy."

"i didn't say you were crazy," daniela quickly says, shaking her head. "baby, please, this isn't that serious. you know minji."

"but other people don't," you respond. "what if it wasn't keeho?"

"i-" daniela stops herself, taking a breath. "this is the only time i've brought someone other than you."

"but why?" you stand up from the couch, making daniela take a few steps backwards. "you're the one who tells me that you don't let anyone go because you don't want them to see, but minji is just a different story or something?"

"it's one time!" daniela says, her voice raising slightly. "why does it matter?"

"why does it matter?" you repeat. "you tell me, daniela. you tell me." you cross your arms over your chest.

daniela is quiet for a minute, trying to think of the right thing to say to not upset you more. "i know what you're thinking, but this isn't a big deal. i let her come along because it was keeho. nothing else, no other reason," she tells you. "i promise."

"not a big deal, you keep saying that," your voice turns sharp. "what's not a big deal? that i'm reasonably concerned when you're out hours past when i got back and tell me you were doing some stuff, helping minji get a gift for hanni, and do a deal? because those are multiple different answers."

"oh my god," daniela mumbles, looking around before back at you. "yn, seriously, it's nothing."

"give me your phone," you demand.

"what?" she looks at you confused.

"consider this a phone check. give it to me." you hold your hand out.

"you're serious?" daniela asks. when you don't answer, just stare at her, she pulls her phone out of her pocket and hands it to you. "jesus christ," she grumbles under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest.

looking through the recent messages, your fingers hover over one specifically, and when you glance up from the phone to look at daniela, she feels her heart drop to her stomach at the expression on your face.

"so what? you have clients wanting to get you shit for valentines day? is that the excuse you're going to give?" you say seriously, tilting your head to the side.

"what?" daniela lets out. "no one has–"

"what's this about then?" you hold the phone towards her, showing a thread of messages.

"that's jaehyun!" daniela exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. "he's my friend!"

"and you know i don't like how close he is with you!" you retort, your voice raising. "every time we go to his place it's like i don't even exist! he's obviously hitting on you!"

"he literally isn't! he's gay!" daniela scoffs, shaking her head. "plus, he literally has a boyfriend!"

"well that didn't stop you the first time, did it?" the words come out faster than you could think.

"right," daniela scoffs again, nodding her head. "right, because it's always my fault, isn't it? i'm always the one fucking up, right?"

"yeah!" you nod. "you're the one who says you can pull anyone, and then you act like i'm fucking crazy when people are all over you and i don't like it! like it's not right for me to feel upset even though i'm your girlfriend!"

"i've never called you crazy! when have i once said that?!" daniela's voice starts getting louder, nearing the edge of yelling.

"but you look at me like it!" you end up yelling first. "like-like it's a problem that i get jealous! you're allowed to have your hands all over me when i'm with my friends when you're jealous but when you have three different girls who give you thousands of dollars each month all over you it's weird when i get defensive and jealous!? that's not fair, daniela!"

"so what? i'm supposed to just sit there while girls eye-fuck you or try to get all close?!" daniela retorts. "you don't even know! you're so fuckin' naive that you think everyone just wants to be friends!"

"naive? i'm naive?" you let out a laugh, shaking your head. "right, sorry for being nice enough to make friends who don't just want to fuck me for some shit!"

"they still want to fuck you!" daniela yells. "look at sophia! you ran to her when shit got hard and look what happened! who's telling me that you won't go run off to some other 'friend' of yours only for them to fuck you while you were still mine!"

you stop once sophia's name is spoken. daniela knew better than to bring her up after the events that happened, knowing how much you regretted your stupid decision and how bad you felt about it afterwards. but in the heat of the argument, the second the words leave daniela's mouth you're standing there in silence.

"you know what," you eventually speak up. "maybe i will."

"will what?" daniela asks, seemingly not realizing what she said and how you took it.

you shake your head, letting out a scoff. you toss her phone on the couch and walk into the bedroom, not saying another word.

"yn?" daniela sighs. "yn! what are you doing?"

a few minutes later you walk back out with a bag in your hands, making daniela's eyes go wide.

"what're you doing?" she asks.

"i'm going to jungwon's for the night," you answer simply. "or, the rest of the night, i guess."

"what?" daniela looks at you confused. "why?"

you stare at her with a deadpan expression, waiting to see if she'll notice what she said. when she clearly doesn't, you shake your head again. "because he's a friend who won't fuck me while i'm still yours. those are your words," you tell her before starting to walk to the front door.

your words make daniela realize what she said, and she immediately starts following after you to the door. "yn? yn, baby, don't be like this! i didn't mean to bring her up!"

"but you did." you swiftly turn around, causing her to abruptly stop. "you did even though we talked about it and you knew how fucked up i felt afterwards. but if this is what comes out of your mouth when we argue, then i know you're still pissed about it. so, i'm leaving for the night, or maybe a few days, i don't know." you shrug. "i know i fucked up with what i did. i regret it. but you told me it was okay. when apparently it isn't if you're bringing it up. so while i'm gone, you think about what you want, daniela. because you are on thin ice, and it's cracking. so figure it the fuck out."

you leave the apartment before daniela can get a word out, the door slamming behind you echoing through the place. she stands there for a few minutes, waiting to hear you come back, but you never do.

"god damnit," she sighs, dragging her hands over her face.

the whole remainder of the night daniela kept texting you, telling you to come back, that she was sorry and didn't mean it. but, that's how she always was whenever you two fought. and you were tired of everything right now.

when you got to jungwon's, he was surprised to see you, but when you explained the situation he immediately brought you inside and talked with you about the whole thing. he was always good with comforting others and advice. plus, he could tell you were straining yourself recently.

while daniela sat inside the apartment, moping around waiting for you to come back, still texting you as the day passed and you didn't return or respond. she knew you were upset with what she said, that was obvious. and she couldn't lie and say that the event didn't gnaw at her every fiber since she found out, even if sophia got what she deserved in the end, because it did. she knew it shouldn't. that it was a moment of vulnerability for you, that you had no one else to go to. it all spirals back to her regretting what she did in the first place to start it all.

for the whole day daniela thought of what to do, how to fix this. she sat on the couch for hours thinking of what will make you not mad at her anymore. when she got an idea.

it was day three and you still weren't responding, so daniela took matters into her own hands and texting jungwon asking if you were there. he answered truthfully, saying that he wanted her to figure it out with you so he was trying to help the most he could. so she drove over to his place.

standing in front of the door, daniela shifts her weight from one foot to the other anxiously, biting her lip in hopes that this would work. the door opens and jungwon is revealed, who smiles at her.

"hey, dani," he says. "she's in the guest room."

"thanks," daniela replies, walking past him when he opens the door wider for her.

approaching the guest room, daniela knocks on the door a few times, hearing you hum on the other end. she slowly opens the door, making you turn and see it was her. your expression hardens, and dani notices, knowing she's still in deep shit.

"hey," she says awkwardly, pulling the flowers from behind her back. "i got you these." she holds them out, looking at the ground.

you can't help the way your eyes soften at the tone in her voice, quiet and hesitant compared to the confident loudness you were used to. she looks like a kicked puppy staring at the ground, and you let out a short sigh before getting off the bed, walking over to her and taking the bouquet from her.

"i'm sorry for what i said," daniela mumbles. "i didn't mean to say it i just...i still think about it sometimes and i don't know why. i know you didn't do it to hurt me on purpose but sometimes i...i worry that you're going to leave once you realize i'm not the best for you."

her words shock you as she still stares at the ground, finally speaking the thoughts that had been eating her up inside. "dani..."

"i-i know i'm not the best," she quickly adds. "i know you can find someone who will treat you better like it's nothing. but i don't– i can't lose you. i love you so much, so fucking much, and it scares me so much when we fight because i know every time it's another tick gone and that eventually you'll get tired of me and leave. i don't want you to leave. we fight, we have our ups and downs, but you always stay. you always stay and i know one day y-you won't." daniela's voice cracks at the end, tears filling her eyes the longer she talks. "i'm sorry." a few tears fall.

carefully setting the flowers on the bed, you take another step towards her and cup her face in your hands, making her look at you finally. "it's okay," you tell her softly. "you're right, i always stay. i always stay because i love you. i wouldn't if i didn't. dani, i don't think you know that you are the best relationship i've had. all of the other ones ended like shit. you prove to me time and time again that even if you fuck up, you own up to it and you don't run away. i won't ever get tired of you, i promise." you wipe away the tears falling from her eyes. "i love you, and i love the flowers. you always know what to get me."

"i try," daniela responds quietly, nodding slightly.

"i know." you nod. "and i love that about you." you lean in, pressing a soft kiss against her lips.

parting from the kiss, daniela's arms snake around your waist and pull you close to her as she puts her face in the crook of your neck. "i love you," she murmurs against your skin.

"i love you too," you reply, petting her head gently.

[seasprincess]

Spencer Reid x reader. !fluff

Synopsis: a certain agent has picked up on a little chemistry between you and genius

warnings: none

Spencer Reid is a genius. Everyone knows it. With his 187 IQ, ability to read 20,000 words per minute and knowledge on so many subjects.

But they all mean nothing when you’re involved.

He shouldn’t get like this around you. Get all flustered and shy. Tripping over words when his eyes lock with yours. Watching as you bat your eyelashes at him when he goes on one of his rambles. Everyone else wants him to be quiet, but you? You look and listen to him like he's a prophet and you're his die hard follower.

But as Spencer lacks in the relationship department it means he doesn't catch onto the way you flirt with him. The way you smile and laugh a bit too hard at his jokes the rest of the team didn’t even crack a smile for. He’s blind when it comes to all the signs that you like him back.

But the rest of the team isn’t blind to those eyes you give him. For them it’s like watching a cartoon character’s eyes turn into hearts everytime you look at the genius.

But there’s one person on the team who notices these little glances between you too. Notices the way Spencer stares at you. And he’s decided to play cupid.

Ladies man Derek Morgan is sat across from you on the jet. Smirking as he gestures for you to take off the headphones that were blasting some new pop song.

“Yeah?” You say as you look at him, slightly on edge because of the muscular man's smirk. His eyes show that this conversation is going to make you uncomfortable. Thank god the rest of the team are either asleep or distracted doing something else.

“So you and Reid. What's going on?” The agent says as he tilts his head slightly. Of course he’s going to use his detective skills to use and analyse you.

With his words your cheeks heat up like the plane had suddenly just got really warm. You feel warm. A blush spread across your cheeks too. Usually you'd try to play off these reactions. And you're gonna do just that now.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try to stay calm, try to not show that his words are affecting you. Why is he asking anyway? Has Reid asked about you? Oh god what if he thinks you're weird? What if Morgan tells him?

“You very much do know what I’m talking about.”

You sigh and put your hands over your face, trying to block out the smirking man that’s asking you the question that makes you want to run home and hide your face in a pillow.

“Is it that obvious?” You say as you look over at Spencer who is fast asleep. He's in the fetal position on the sofa. His arm propped under his head as a makeshift pillow. Completely knocked out from the latest case. He looks so calm which is not a usual look. He’s usually moving about or his mind is running at a million miles per hour. Seeing him like this makes your heart clench, he looks so cute and sweet and-oh my god. You've got it bad.

“It’s obvious to everyone but pretty boy.” Derek’s eyes glance to sleeping Spencer. Not looking at him with the same admiration as you.

You groan again as your forehead is placed on the table in front of you. Work strictly bans relationships between two members but there was no way in denying nor moving past the little situationship between you and the smart guy of the team. You could try to hide it but you'd never be able to get over it. Neither would he. You’re both whipped for each other in whatever geeky way that you both can be.

Spencer and you both being geeky when it comes to your interests meant you both like the same things and that you understand some of his references. Heavy on the some, cause sometimes you have no idea what he’s talking about. His references are just a bit too niche for you to grasp.

“Talk to him.” Derek says casually. Like he hasn't asked you to do one of the most stressful things you can think of involving your personal life.

“Absolutely not.” You reply as you say as you sit up straight in the seat. The jet finally coming in to land after what feels like a

“You gotta do it or you’ll regret it.” He doesn’t give you time to fire back before he leaves your gossip spot, presumably heading for the exit. Which is where he’s going. Not before he hits the sleeping boy's knee to wake him up, making your plan of sneaking past him nearly impossible. Derek just flashes you a smirk before exiting.

Sencer rubs his eyes as he slowly sits up, not wanting to move too quickly to avoid feeling dizzy. He glances down at his watch to only realise he had slept practically the whole journey. People walk past him, saying their goodbyes as he says bye too. Not coherent as he's still sleepy. He looks around the jet before his eyes land on you. You were packing up your things, getting ready to go back to your apartment and probably just crash. The case was really hard on all of you. But Spencer knows you struggle to sleep on planes otherwise he knows you would be fast asleep.

“Good nap?” You say with that sweet smile of yours that makes Spencer’s heart just melt. He has completely and utterly fallen for you. He looks at you softly. His brown eyes look at you softly. From your point of view it’s like looking into a deer's eyes. The big brown orbs looking at you with the sweetest look you've ever seen. But of course you’ll brush it off with the fact it’s because he’s just woken up and not because he could possibly like you.

“Oh um, can’t complain. Other than the fact I have more of my book to read now before I can sleep. Again.” Spencer likes to read a certain amount each night. Not that it takes him any significant amount of words per minute. He could do it in about three minutes.

Spencer reaches down to grab his book that had fallen to the ground due to his snooze.

“Hey so, um, I was wondering.” You say quickly before you can take it back and stop yourself. You know you need to get it out before you change your mind.

“Go for it.” He says with a smile. Standing up and looking into your eyes.

And your brain just melts, you can’t help it. You freeze on the spot and suddenly this seems like a really bad idea. It would be too awkward if he rejected you. What if he thought you were weird? Oh god. This is not a good idea.

“It can wait till tomorrow.” You say, covering up the emotions behind the words you wish you could say. “I’ll see you then. Good night.”

Spencer doesn’t get a chance to react before you've left.

And all he can do is wonder what the hell you were gonna say.

And what he wishes he could’ve said to you.

Part 2 soon…

a/n: not proof read😛

@littlelamy

[khorneschosen]

When you contacts drop like the way you are yes.

Because that's what you keep doing You keep ignoring the context you keep dropping the context You keep not thinking about the context.

Because I really need you to understand this if someone pulled out a gun and put it to my head and I managed to beat that man to think he was going to blow my brains out The context that I didn't know that the gun was empty does not invalidate what I did. Or if you simply take the fact that I beat Amanda death as the only context worth considering you realize how that changes whether or not my act is justified right.

Actually no I'm not explaining this to you again You know how this works You are a human being you are capable of rational thought I am not explaining this to you I'm not explaining how context fucking works..

Oh you condemn both do you. But you understand the plight of one and not the other You understand why They had to go and do something like October 7th. You understand it which is to say you agree with it.

I understand why they did October 7th better than you do. Because I don't drop the fucking context that we're dealing with an incredibly anti-Semitic people and organizations who teach their children to be anti-Semitic and to not value their own lives if their lives would be thrown away dying in the cause to kill Israelis or just Jews in general.

No I'm just realizing you didn't say you condemn both sides You just said you don't agree with Hamas Well agreeing and understanding everything that made them do what they do and everything that made them what they are. Disgusting. Actual fucking disgusting. How the fuck do you sleep at night. How do you come away from this thinking I'm a good person. All of this moral indignation you have thrown at me and I cannot see how the fuck you sleep at night or how you're even able to throw that moral indignation at me being what you are.

In reason I will tell you this is how I see you This is how I understand you and I do not understand it. You guys went from the people who could be at least entrusted to say genocide and rape are bad They are the worst crimes and they have no justification only then to support a group that blatantly raped and attempted to genocide a people. And when those people so often use to attempts to exterminate them said no, and fought in defense of their own fucking lives you said these people are the real genocidal hateful monsters.

Also if you look at the facts of the case Israel's campaign has been aligned with civilian casualties across the Middle East despite hamas's tactics to try and maximize the amount of their own people who died.

In reason I do not see how you come away from any other conclusion then not only is this hamas' fault but the people of Palestine asked for this. Their only current lament is that they failed.

Because when every fact is put in front of me and every event is put into its proper context you see a picture where a group try to use its own people as a weapon for a propaganda campaign that you have been oh so willing to engage with.

You worship death and weakness because these are the only standards that you live by You worship suffering because it is the only thing you can see.

If you're suddenly worried about antisemitism because of elon musk but you spent the last year and a half harassing Jews and "Zionists" and excusing antisemitism in your own movement, you don't care about antisemitism

I don't trust you. The Jewish community doesn't trust you. You never cared about us, still don't, and you made it very clear

[zaldritzosrose]

Like Real People Do (Jacaerys x Noble!Reader)

We are back with a milestone request from my darling @legitalicat, and I also gifting this to her as a birthday treat! See the request ask here!

Song - Like Real People Do by Hozier

Summary: You were like a beacon of comfort and normality for Jacaerys. His title didn't seem to weigh as heavy when he was with you. You made him feel 'normal', whatever that word meant. You made him feel like he was not a prince, not heir to the throne, but a real person.

TW: She/Her pronouns, afab reader, noble reader, no specific descriptions of reader, all fluff, this is sickeningly sweet and we may need a dentist after, Jacaerys being a gentleman.

Words: 3121

I had a thought, dear, however scary, about that night, the bugs and the dirt…

You hadn’t noticed it immediately. But Jacaerys had begun to spend a lot of time simply watching you. Even doing the most mundane of things.

The daughter of a noble house sworn to his mother, you now spent a lot of time on Dragonstone. Following your father as he swore his sword to Rhaenyra’s cause. You would accompany your father whenever he would venture to the island.

At first, you had stuck to his side as much as possible. Rhaenyra being made heir had prompted your father to begin to school you in more of a political light as the eldest daughter, so travelling to Dragonstone to watch your new Queen had become a source of fascination for you.

And the more time you spent on Dragonstone, the more time you began to spend in the prince’s company. Jacaerys was usually at his mother’s side, so for the most part the encounters were more formal.

But soon your father’s visits became more frequent which meant you made more effort to find more comfort and familiarity with the island.

Spending time on the beaches over in the castle. Simply walking and taking in the scenery around you.

This is what Jacaerys noticed first. And it fascinated him to no end.

Why were you digging? What did you bury, before those hands pulled me from the earth?

As the war for the throne began to pick up traction, your father was occupied more and more. And he encouraged you to spend just a little more time exploring the island.

Today was one of those trips, wandering through the rocky hills as the sea air whipped at your hair.

But you weren’t alone this time. Too lost in the fresh, salty air, you didn’t notice the figure following a few paces behind you.

You descended to the beach, taking your shawl and setting it down to protect your gown from the sand. You absentmindedly drew patterns in the sand, letting the sound of the wind and waves wash over you.

But as the weather calmed, you heard another set of feet crunching in the sand. You moved to stand, immediately on edge.

Before you could say a word, Jacaerys spoke.

“Apologies, my lady, if I startled you?” he said gently, and you could see the genuine concern in his eyes.

You took a breath, brushing down your skirt before smiling.

“Oh, not to worry, my prince,” you tried smooth down your hair as you spoke, immediately regretting not braiding it for your walk.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment. This was the first time you had been truly alone with Jacaerys. Every other encounter had been somewhere within the walls of the castle, surrounded by any number of other people.

“I, uh, I apologise for my appearance, I was not expecting to be accompanied…” you mumbled, simply wanting to fill the silence somehow.

Jacaerys only chuckled. Maybe he should have made his presence known sooner? But he had found the way you took in your surroundings so interesting to simply observe. How relaxed you seemed, as if you’d shed the mask of your noble title. Something he wished he could do himself.

“Nothing to apologise for, I am the one that disturbed your solitude.”

You were surprised by how relaxed you felt, now that the initial surprise had dissipated. Maybe it was being out of the castle, out in the fresh air with no expectations for how you acted.

“You are welcome to join me, my prince?” you asked, silently hoping he would agree.

The prince smiled, there were no duties calling him back to the castle, though he likely should have been doing something. Maybe a bit of respite from the castle walls was what he needed?

“I would love that, my lady.”

You leaned down, spreading your shawl out as wide as you could so there was space enough for both of you. You settled yourself back down, returning your gaze to the sea before you. Jacaerys removed his cloak, doing as you had with your shawl. A little sand wasn’t going to do any harm.

As he sat, he took the chance to look at you, as he did whenever you entered a room. He took in just how lovely the sun was as it shone through your hair, how it began to illuminate your profile like a halo.

But what he enjoyed most, was how normal it felt to just sit beside you. He didn’t feel like a prince in this very moment, and it was thanks to you.

Of course, it helped that he truly did find you beautiful.

I will not ask you where you came from, I will not ask and neither should you…

How many hours passed, neither of you knew. But the weather soon took a turn, the sea air growing cold and the wind now more than a tolerable breeze.

Jacaerys noticed the way you tried to hide your shivers and took it upon himself to suggest you both return indoors.

“Shall we return? Dragonstone’s beaches can get quite cold in the evenings.” Jacaerys said softly, standing up and holding a hand for you to take.

And you took it gladly, letting him pull you to standing. Before you could even bend down to grab your own shawl, Jacaerys lifted his cloak to drape over your shoulders.

You kept your head down, trying desperately to hide the blush you knew had begun to bloom on your cheeks.

“Thank you, my prince. We should be quick then, so you do not freeze?” you teased, pulling his heavy cloak a little higher up on your shoulders.

Jacaerys nodded, grabbing your shawl from the ground and holding out his arm for you to take, his own cheeks growing pink as you took it.

“Please, would you call me Jacaerys?”

He didn’t miss the surprise on your face. You may have spent a lot of time in his presence, but using his name still felt extremely intimate. But the almost pleading look in his eyes was hard to ignore.

“I can try, I think. Though it will take some getting used to, so forgive me if I forget to,” you answered, hoping that was enough for now.

It earned you a soft smile, his appreciation clear.

He knew your upbringing would have been as ingrained in your psyche as his own. Calling a royal by their name would likely seem incomprehensible. Just as if he were to use your name, it would have felt quiet unusual.

But names were personal, intimate. Names had no status, no titles. And you made him forget his title with just your presence.

You both began to walk, your arm safely nestled through the crook of his elbow. You were halfway back to the castle when a thought crossed your mind.

“And mayhaps you should call me by my name then? Instead of my lady?” you asked, feeling a little disappointed as you saw the castle come into view in the distance.

Jacaerys smiled. He had heard your name whenever you were announced, a name as beautiful as the woman who owned it. It was only fair for him to use yours if he’d asked you to use his.

“That sounds fair. It can be something we allow for moments much like we shared today?”

He let his question linger. Silently asking for there to be more days like today, without having to embarrass himself asking.

“Our little secret…Jacaerys.”

Jacaerys felt his chest tighten at the sound of his name on your lips. The way you said it so gently as though you were still unsure about using it.

The rest of the walk to the castle continued in silence, but Jacaerys couldn’t take his eyes off you for most of it. There was something about you that kept drawing him in, something that made him desperate to keep you at his side.

You gave him a sense of normality, yes. But there was something else. Something that made his heart beat a little faster whenever you entered a room.

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do…

In the days that followed, Jacaerys’ mind kept returning to you. To sitting beside you on the beach, to the sound of his name on your lips, to the feel of your hand on his arm.

He tried to ignore the fluttered feeling in his stomach whenever he thought of you, but it was more than a challenge. His cloak still held the faintest scent of your perfume, which he had begun accustomed to being able to smell whenever he wore it.

You had returned home with your father the night before, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before you were back. The trips your father made were frequent, which he was now eternally grateful for.

He had stood at the castle walls as your ship left, still remembering the kiss to his cheek that you had snuck in when your respective parents were otherwise engaged.

A kiss that was still in his mind now as he tried to read the pile of parchments in front of him. Not a single word he read seemed to hold in his mind.

Every thought he had would somehow return to you.

I knew that look, dear, eyes always seeking, was there in someone that dug long ago…

You waited in anticipation for your father to tell you when his next trip to Dragonstone would be. There was no use in hiding it, you wanted to see Jacaerys again.

There was a sense of safety with him, you weren’t afraid to relax around. As he was with you. Whether it was only friendship, or something soon to be more, you didn’t know. But the mere thought of him gave you butterflies every time.

Each time you would see your father handed a letter, you hoped it would be a summons to Dragonstone again. But a couple of weeks went by and there was nothing.

You would go to sleep each night, silently wishing that the next morning would bring a letter.

Until one morning, your wishes were answered. Your father came down to breakfast, parchment in hand and looked immediately to you.

“Ready for another journey to our Queen, sweet daughter?” he asked, already chuckling at the fervent nod you gave him.

What you did not know, was that your father was more than aware of your affection for the prince, and he was more than supportive of it. To be in the prince’s good graces, was to be in the Queen’s and your father had long cemented himself as a pillar of loyalty for Rhaenyra.

The journey was planned for that evening, so you had no hesitation in hurriedly finishing your breakfast and leaving to pack your things. All your father’s journeys to Dragonstone were a week or two at best, so preparation was key.

So I will not ask you why you were creeping, in some sad way, I already know…

The ship arrived late into the night, the servants helping you, your father and the other members of your household collect your belongings and move them inside.

The castle was quiet, late enough that you were sure most of the royal family was already asleep. The sailings were not all that long, but there was little about them that you enjoyed. Yet, despite how tired you felt, you rarely found rest after one of those journeys.

You were all shown to your rooms, but you made no move to settle down. Even when exhaustion began to settle in your bones, you were a restless soul.

And Dragonstone at night? Well, that was something you had yet to experience to its fullest advantage.

The large castle seemed even grander in the darkness. The only light were the sconces on the walls and the chamberstick in your hand. You wandered the halls, paying mind to the rooms you knew were off limits no matter the time of day.

Your aimless wandering brought you to the library. Aside from the beach, it was one of your favourite places to visit. The tall bookcases that seemed to go on endlessly, the smell of old books. There was something so comforting about it all, despite it being far grander than the library in your own home.

But just like the beach all those weeks ago, you were not alone.

You couldn’t see him, tucked into a corner and hidden by the crammed bookcases. But Jacaerys had been in the library for most of the evening. The longer the war between his mother and uncle dragged on, the heavier the title of heir to the Iron Throne had begun to weigh on him.

And Jacaerys had never been more conscious of what others thought of him.

It was only when you heard the soft scrape of a chair did you realise you weren’t the only one hidden in the rows of dusty tomes.

“Is someone there?” you called, clutching your shawl around your shoulders.

When no one answered, you began to believe your mind was playing tricks on you. Until you heard some very familiar footsteps.

“It is just me,” Jacaerys responded, appearing from his corner with a soft smile.

You breathed a sigh of relief, walking closer to him.

“Jacaerys, I thought my mind was playing me for a fool, hearing things!” you laughed, setting the chamberstick down on the table beside him.

You took the chance to look him over. Maybe it was the candlelight, but he looked far more tired than usual.

“Are you well?” you asked, trying to keep your concern polite still.

Jacaerys sighed, his shoulders visibly sagging. Your presence was a comfort, a safe space where he could let his mask slip.

He sat down in a nearby chair. He was no longer a prince; he was simply a young man with the weight of seven kingdoms on his shoulders. As if by instinct, you moved closer to him.

Aside from the goodbye kiss to his cheek and the occasional soft touch of your hands, there hadn’t been much physical contact between you.

But you could immediately sense that he simply needed…something.

So I will not ask you where you came from, I would not ask and neither would you…

Your hand went to his shoulder first, standing between the chair in which he sat and the table. The touch was gentle, giving him the chance to pull away if he wished.

But Jacaerys didn’t want to. With you, he wasn’t a Targaryen prince, he wasn’t his mother’s heir.

He was just Jacaerys.

His hand raised to hold on to yours. Lacing his fingers and simply holding on to you.

How could he tell you how he was feeling? Would you think less of him? Would you think him weak?

But you were perceptive, and you could see the maelstrom of emotions behind his eyes.

“Jace…you can talk to me, you know that?” you asked softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

You only called him Jace when emotions were high. The last time had been when you had both said goodbye.

He sighed again. Why wouldn’t the words just come out?

“I…sometimes I wish I wasn’t the heir,”

Jacaerys hurried through the words, his voice barely a whisper but enough to hear.

Your face softened, though concern lingered in your gaze.

“And why is that?”

Your head tilted down to look at him as you spoke. Your hand moving from his shoulder to his cheek. The reasons weren’t something you were unaware of, but you knew he needed to talk it through.

“There are times I wish I could simply…be. To be able to live without the shadow of the throne at my back…”

His eyes closed as he leaned into your palm. With you, he felt like that could be possible. Since that day on the beach, you had respected his wish to not be seen as a prince. For his title to mean nothing whenever you were alone.

To let him be just a real person.

His eyes met yours and a soft smile tugged at his lips.

“I feel like that with you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, butterflies tingling in your stomach. Gentle waves of affection washing over you.

You made him feel safe. You made him feel comfortable. You made him happy.

“Jace…”

No more words left your lips as he pulled you closer. Wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his under your chin. You hesitated for only a moment before you returned his embrace. Resting your cheek on the crown of his head.

“You make me feel real,” he whispered, his voice muffled against your neck.

You were sure he could have felt the rapid thump of your heartbeat now. But his was beating just the same.

The words hung heavy between you. The feelings between you both had been unspoken since the beach. Though it was only a few weeks, the tension had only grown more with separation.

You didn’t know what to say, but you realised you didn’t need to say anything. Your lips pressed to his curls, tightening your arms around his shoulders.

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. We should just kiss like real people do…

The warmth of your lips on his skin was like a wave of calm. A balm to his tortured mind. Your mere presence seemed to hold the ability to fix his problems.

One of the hands on your waist moved to hold your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to your palm.

But when his eyes met yours this time, there was only one thing he wished to do.

The kiss was gentle, tentative. But every ounce of love and affection that he held for you into it. The arm around your waist pulling you ever tighter into his hold.

And when the kiss broke, your leaned down to rest your forehead against his. Everything felt different, in the best way.

He was yours and you were his. For just a moment, Jacaerys could pretend he was just a normal person. He was happy and loved for who he was.

And you silently vowed to make it so he would feel that way forever.

I could not ask you where you came from. I could not ask and neither could you…

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. We could just kiss like real people do.

Jace Taglist:

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @sylasthegrim

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @multyfangirl

(if you want to be added/deleted, let me know)

[gayofthefae]

Thinking about how Will is fully able to flirt but cannot handle being flirted with and the deeper reason that actually is

Will has settled for the idea of never being with Mike. Even referencing coming out to Mike he only ever frames it as not wanting to "lie to Mike" and simply wanting to share "the truth" with who he "care[s] about the most". Never an expectation or attempt at reciprocation. It is consistently based and in reference to how he feels about secrets from his loved ones, and only ever mentioned in reference to actual romance by El.

He has settled. But the thing about settling, part of it inherently that is under-talked about, is the part where you find ways to love your life. Settling is not resigning, that would be super depressing, because when someone settles it is them committing to a lesser life than they had dreamed because more is not an option for them. It is out of their control or the wrong choice somehow, and in those situations, you make the best of it.

So to Will, he will never have Mike. In fact, in all likelihood he will never experience romance. In his entire life - even if he die of natural causes in old age and not monsters at 15. But you make the best of it. And it's logical:

If Mike fully does not reciprocate, is oblivious to his feelings, and repeatedly affirms that he didn't mean what he said that made it seem like he was uncomfortable and he is totally fine - like the audience believes (again, BECAUSE Will believes this and is the one telling this story in s4) - then there are absolutely 0 consequences to having an ambiguous flirt here and there. No one can fault him, it's the closest he will ever get to romance as a queer person, so he takes what he can get. No damage to Mike and El's relationship. No discomfort to Mike. Hell, Mike doesn't even really notice.

So Will's expectation is occasional, one-sided flirting. A sort of playing pretend I suppose. And Mike smiles and that can be part of the game. It makes sense. Because often, he doesn't say anything back.

He just smiles...except for once

I always want to jokingly yell at my screen in this moment "what do you mean you're shy now? YOU initiated flirting with HIM"

but it does make sense given his expectations; given the history I hadn't tracked before from his perspective. Not only are his expectations of a lack of matching energy (as I have pointed out repeatedly before, genuinely should not match if unreciprocated - could even just be the comment vs silent smile thing they had going before) completely realistic, they have also been proven in practice!

And I always want to tease him that he started it but really, he didn't. Because any time he does this, it has 0 intention to "start" anything. Not even this much of an exchange. He's doing it for himself, to play pretend. It's like Mike is breaking the fourth wall.

It was completely plausible for him to act coy and surprised by Mike here, as if Mike had initiated this tone, because even something as simple and small as this had *never been reciprocated like this before*. The rest of the conversation is Mike's traditional pace in terms of romantic-adjacent to Will, but participating in the playfulness is new.

I like to tease him in my head. But Will being flustered by a natural response to his statement and the tone he himself set is logical. Because to Will, in a way, Mike can't see him. Mike doesn't know he's doing this, and Mike certainly can't engage.

This is Mike engaging. This is Mike *participating*. This is Mike acknowledging 'you just pitched me a line, and I'm taking it this time'. And in a way, this is also one of this micro-reveals you get in your life. This is also Mike saying 'I'm not oblivious to it and I never have been, I just didn't engage until now. But now I am. (And none of those smiles were that oblivious either)'.

And the other stuff Mike says afterwards is much more similar to things he's before, so it didn't always click for me the specifics. But I get it now. I get why this is different than all those other times. I get why he grabs the painting on his way out. Will learned something about Mike from this conversation.

It's absolutely tiny. Two lines. But there is one moment in the series where they have truly reciprocated and interestingly enough, it's this. We always get "if we're both going crazy we'll go crazy together" "yeah" "it was the best thing I've ever done" "..." even "the last year has been weird, you know? And Max and Lucas and Dustin, they're great, they're great, it's just-it's Hawkins, it's not the same without you. And I feel like maybe I was worrying too much about El and, I don't know, I feel like I lost you or something, does that make sense? I have no idea what's gonna happen next, but whatever it is, I think it'll be easier if we're team. Friends - Best friends." "Cool." (WILL BYERS OH MY GOD!! 'cool'???)

but this was two-ways. And it quickly ended because then they kinda didn't know what to do, understandably. This is basically a long and queer trauma way of saying that that look from Will is a completely logical moment of "shit, I didn't think I'd get this far".

Analysis on Mike's perspective/behavioral shift to respond in this scene

[blubunz]

OBSESSION, INFATUATION, CONFESSION

— leon s. kennedy x gn! reader

Tags: the title says it all actually.

A/N: I'll work on other fics and stuff later I promise! Been busy lately and my period does not help lmao grah omg,, so I only have a short little thing for you guys :(

Leon who views himself as tainted, a hollow shell of a man, a weapon only to serve the government and protecting other tainted people.

He's got no right view of the typical romance he'd read or seen. Those typical rom-coms and books are just fictional to him. Well, in his line of work, he doesn't have the mind to view the world as a silly rom-com.

But, he knows what he wants when he sees you. Just a quick meeting, no deep conversation whatsoever yet somehow you have managed to make Leon think he was in highschool again by how his heart is thumping loud and palms sweaty from nervousness.

He doesn't let it show, obviously. But the moment you were gone, his knees crumbled and he has to lean on a wall nearby to steady himself.

God, he's already past his 20s. He's not that young, certainly doesn't look the part. But you make him feel like a teenager, a boy who only worries about impressing his crush rather than bioterrorism.

Day after day, Leon sees you even more radiant, like an angel. He might as well worship you and kiss the ground you walk on. He has to resist that urge, to fall on his knees, begging you to be with him, to hug you and feel your bright aura as he take the wings off to keep you forever with him.

To him, you are everything. Even if his everything should be his job, typically his life depends on it. But not to how Leon sees it. To him, you're providing him air to breathe when you're near. You're giving him a purpose to live his days even more productive, not just throwing himself carelessly here and there just to get things over with.

To you, however, you're not...that special. And you aren't. You're just like anyone else. You're not some hero in a movie, or some angel sent from heaven. You're you. A human with feelings and thoughts about simple things like what to eat, or just getting annoyed at something during your work.

You're aware you're not that crazy, big, admirable figure that everyone knows. Just a nice person doing their best throughout the days.

Yet, Leon's absolutely infatuated with you.

You never noticed it during your usual meetings, but you grow to realise how big of an impact you have on Leon when he's ticked off by the knowledge that you had troubled at work, caused by someone he doesn't even know. It's normal to you, annoying, but normal, everyone has to have a few bad experiences at work. But Leon's fuming, like it was him experiencing it and not you.

And on some random days, you would receive gifts. It's not consistent, but not entirely rare. Seeing a box by your desk every now and then with his initials written on the box. Each time, it was something different, but what they all have in common is that they're all expensive. You already have enough perfume and jewelries by now, with more than enough clothes that you don't need to go shopping anymore. You're slightly scared of how Leon knows your size and what your preferences are.

Nonetheless, you embrace it, and Leon can't be happier. He's an absolute gentleman, doing everything for you as much as he could and treating you to fancy dinners.

He does all of them so easily, but when he finds the perfect time to properly confess to you, he's shaking like a leaf. Leon wants to slap himself at how similar he is to a schoolboy, with you standing before him with a curious expression, and him sweating bullets with a whole paragraph well-constructed in his mind.

His first few words are heavy and shaky. You're almost concerned he'd just cry and run off, but Leon holds himself still, trying to speak his heart out to you.

He freezes when you smile. Honestly, you've predicted it. No one's just nice enough to give you expensive gifts and treating you out like a royal.

“So, is...is it a yes...?”

“Yes, Leon, it is.”

[pidges-lost-robot]

Yes!! @pinkwerewolfprincess the coworker rumours are what I am here for?!?! Like genuinely imagine you had a weirdo coworker who barely ever spoke to or acknowledged you besides being the best at being rude back to rude patrons and always saying thank you really quietly and everyone talks about what he does when he leaves cause none of you ever see him, he never hangs out and any time he's asked he always says he is busy and yet you never see him around town and at least based on the minimal info you know about him he doesn't seem to have much in the way of friends or family.

Now let's say after being constant if also weirdly absent presence in your life, you notice you haven't seen him in for a shift in a while and you ask.your manager and they inform you that he no longer works there. You hear through the grapevine that after being a very reliable employee shift wise that he no showed on 2 weeks worth of shifts.

You're surprised. Sure he's not someone who would've said anything if he got a new job but he wouldn't have just not shown up. You go crazy, for the next week you spend ages trying to figure what his last name was so you can make sure he didn't like go missing or go to prison or something. You find nothing. He has not been reported missing if he is. However you do find conveniently that 3 Garrison students did go missing. You vaguely remember someone saying that it'd been on his CV but that he hadn't completed his course.

It's a bit weird those two things coinciding but whatever. You've got stuff to do and seemingly you've solved most of your mystery....

And then a week later it comes to you. Keith and these students must've of known something. There's a history of people disappearing, that whole Kerberos mission looked weird when you'd search engined it. Omg your coworker got disappeared by a government body.

Anyway all this speculation about a guy you didn't really know and weren't friends with is a bit much, your friends family and coworkers tell you. So you leave it and soon enough you forgrt about Keith Kogane, possible agent of truth....

5 years later, aliens have arrived. The planet is in chaos. The Garrison are apparently doing their best. The aliens are in.your neighbourhood and you are hiding. Suddenly a giant fuck off man robot appears from the sky smiting away the aliens' ships. And then the robot splits into 5 vaguely lion shaped robots of 5 colours.

The people who come off them are armoured and they run to help the people that are stranded and the one in the black lion robot runs over, white and red armour to help you all and... holy fucking SHIT!! ITS KEITH KOGANE, AGENT OF TRUTH- wait a minute he looks older than you now... wasn't he younger?- Never mind it doesn't matter right now you're saved and you have so many questions?!

You will never have them answered but holy shit man... insane stuff

All I can imagine is whether Keith had a job while he was out in that shack. In my head, he just works in a convenience store in a nearby town, and that poor guy goes in, gets yelled at by customers and then goes home and makes his conspiracy board and I just think about how his coworkers probably wonder what his deal is

[strwbrychffoncke]

"its not too late to admit you love me,, 3.6k words synopsis: long having thought your love was unrequited ,you think its time to move on and seek help from the man causing the issue in the first place not knowing the storm this brews within him contains: angst -> fluff lnds zayne x mc!reader ,mutual pining but u both are kind of dumb ,caleb mention ,"unrequited" love (but not rly bc its mutual?) -> requited ,dates ,yearner!reader ,angst (self-inflicted on both ends) ,light teasing ,romantic gestures (zayne) ,night stroll ,confession ,playful banter ,um i think thats it note: (unedited!) happy valentines day~ im working on another fic that will hopefully also get out today bc its vday themed n silly....

-

"i think im going to confess to caleb."

zayne felt his world stop when you'd spoken those words to him oh-so casually, seated on the couch of his house as you had many times before, sipping on a cup of tea he'd brewed for you to chase away the cold of the outdoors.

he blinks once, staring down at you for a moment. your gaze was trained on the tea in the mug, watching the steam rise and breathing in the fragrant scent, allowing it to fill your senses in an attempt to calm your beating heart.

zayne takes a seat on the left-most side of the sofa, leaving a middle cushion space between you both, setting his own mug of tea down on the nearby coffee table beside a plate of cookies he'd grabbed for the both of you to snack on.

despite the storm of thoughts brewing in his mind, his expression remains neutral.

"i see."

a simple answer, the only one that he can conjure up in the moment.

you peek up at him trying to catch any hint of his feelings in those captivating eyes of his.

"what... do you think?"

"should i be the one to have an opinion on this?"

"well, do you think he'll... reciprocate?"

"is that not the reason you're confessing in the first place?"

you let out a frustrated groan. an amused grin ghosts the corners of zayne's lips.

"zayyyne, don't tease me right now, i'm serious!"

he resists the urge to laugh at the cute expression on your face. you really never changed.

"well, is there something that pushed you to make the decision like this?"

sheepish, you look back down at the tea in your hands, feeling the warmth seep through your hands, kicking your feet back and forth beneath you, lightly hitting the soft material beneath you.

"i just thought... its been long enough, you know?"

he tilts his head at a slight angle, reaching for a cookie on the small plate and taking a bite, seemingly losing himself in thought.

sure, he'd noticed. its not something that he particularly found to be a secret, even without you directly telling him of your attraction to the kind, doting boy you'd grown up with.

but he wasn't sure that you'd ever act on it.

thanks to that, he thought he'd had more than enough time to will himself to be honest with you...

but today, it seems that time had run out.

"have you thought about the method? even if its something one could say at any time, the execution is what you're also worried about, no? not to mention the timing."

given his logical side, you had trouble deciding whether opening up to zayne really was the best option (that, and your lingering feelings for him welling deep within you heart), but listening to his words, you remember why no one else could help as much as him in the first place.

"wow zayne, have you confessed to someone or something? is this something i dont know about?"

he scoffs, eyes lingering on your for a moment before they shift elsewhere in the room.

"hardly. it just seems like the most logical things one might be concerned with in this sort of situation. not to mention," he leans forward, reaching for another cookie.

"i know you."

your heart jumps in your chest.

you watch the doctor before you casually consume another sweet cookie, and when he looks over again, you hastily shift your gaze, taking another sip of the tea in your hands.

"right," you murmur once you let the liquid rush down your throat.

"i'm not sure how much assistance i can offer you, but granted thats what you're asking..."

"i'll pay you in one, no, two boxes of macarons! and.. the next time we go to that cafe, it'll be my treat!"

you're suddenly full of energy again, eyes wide and pleading as you negotiate with zayne, his slightly narrowed eyes staring back.

how could he ever deny you anything when you ask like that?

he huffs out a breath through his nose, reaching for the teacup.

"i'll see what i can do."

he watches you over the rim of the cup as you cheer, expression bright as you finally reach over and shove one of the cookies into your own mouth in triumph, a couple of crumbs sticking to the edges of your lips.

you don't notice the pointed stare, and he's grateful you seem distracted enough to not have caught onto the slightly-off tone of his voice or the sight of his thoughts running rampant through his brain.

the price of your happiness this time tasted bitter on his tongue, no matter how many sweet cookies he tried ridding it with.

-

zayne's thoughts lingered on that conversation as he types on his computer in his office the following day.

it was silly, wasn't it? thinking so much about this sort of thing.

it didn't seem to be in zayne's character, but really, he found these new sides of himself thanks to you.

it always led back to you.

he thought about you, the way you were never afraid to speak and tease him like you would anyone else, taking the time to get acquainted with him back then despite how reserved he was.

and yet...

he thought about how he was a stark contrast to the pilot of your affections, caleb.

even back then, zayne didn't doubt caleb's fondness for you.

he didn't think you really needed his help if you wanted to confess to him that badly. but he didn't tell you that.

instead, he used this as an excuse to spend what time he thought he had left with you before it would inevitably be taken up by the love from your childhood.

-

you felt... conflicted.

was this really what you wanted, or only what you thought you wanted?

for as long as you could remember, you had been taken with zayne.

something about the stark contrast to your familiar companion caleb intrigued you, and you quickly formed a friendship with him, whether he wanted to or not.

thinking back, you wonder if you actually forced it on him.

he never really denied you of what you wished to do, always letting you take the lead and allowing you entry into his life after you had barged in through the shut door.

maybe... there was never a chance for you.

you heave out a long sigh, flipping another page of the scrapbook filled with pictures of the three of you.

your eyes trail over a picture of you, caleb and zayne together. it was a bright day when you all played together, and you don't really remember who it was that took the picture. you're the only one not looking at the camera, gaze trained elsewhere while caleb is beaming a radiant closed-eyed smile and zayne his usual reserved expression, eyes wide under his large glasses.

your eyes linger on the young zayne for awhile, subconsciously smiling to yourself. he actually was quite camera shy, but never turned down taking a picture with you.

(you didn't know it, but he wanted to immortalize those memories, and it was something that he often looked back on in the time you two had lost contact).

your eyes then trail over to the young caleb, your gege that you had grown up with, the one who probably knew you better than anyone else in the world.

he was bright, thoughtful, and though he always teased you, you knew it came from a place of care and affection for you.

the thought of confessing to him made you nervous, but not in the same way you felt when you'd think about the same scenario happening with zayne.

so, were you really going to go through with this? or were you just trying to convince yourself that you had to get over yourself when it came to zayne?

you close the memory book, face planting into the pillows of your bed with a groan.

what a dream it would be if zayne li could ever think of you as something other than a childhood nuisance, you thought.

-

the more you prepared, the less you wanted to go through with it.

sure, caleb was everything anyone could want, not to mention attractive to anyone that took one glance at him, but could you really see yourself with him? after fantasizing about what it'd like to be by zayne's side, pulled into his embrace, graced by his affections?

despite this, you still spent the time with zayne, because how could you ever pass up an opportunity with him, as busy as he was?

you learned just how romantic the doctor could be, and you were filled with both giddiness and feelings of envy at the thought of someone else seeing this side of him for real.

tonight was the third "date" (as you liked to imagine them in your head, knowing full-well you were the only one who thought as such) he'd taken you on— a sort of "practice," as he called it— while telling you about what night dates might entail. the other two he had taken you on were during the morning and noon, his objective being that of showing you the different moods the date can create at certain times of the day.

it wasn't something you'd ever considered, but you considered yourself lucky being taken out to breakfast then the library for the first date, and having a picnic lunch and taking a stroll together for the second.

it was like getting a taste of something you knew would never be yours. the flavor of a dessert that wasn't meant for you.

it was bittersweet.

tonight, zayne had picked you up after telling you to dress nicely since he was taking you out to dinner, having made reservations at a fairly nice spot in the city. after scouring your wardrobe, you hoped the simple satin figure-hugging slip dress with matching heels and pretty accessories would do, not knowing how fancy the restaurant he was taking you to really was.

he'd opened the passenger door for you when you exited your apartment, something that he'd done the past two times as well, and allowed himself to get a good look at your outfit, feeling his ears burn at seeing you in such unfamiliar attire.

you looked beautiful.

when he made his way back into the drivers seat, he reached back to pluck a hidden rose from the backseat, offering it to you.

"for you," he whispered, watching you stare in awe for a moment before you took it.

no one had given you any flowers before. you felt butterflies.

"thank you..." you sighed, finger tracing the dainty petals.

"while simple, flowers can be a rather thoughtful gift to give to someone. often, they can relay messages without words, but it can also be seen solely for aesthetic value if the recipient isn't familiar with the language of flowers."

your heart sank.

right. this wasn't for real.

you hummed in acknowledgement, eyes trained on the flower to refrain from looking too longingly at the handsome doctor next to you as he began driving you both to your destination.

"by the way..." his steady voice filled the silence that had enveloped you, the sound invading your ears. you looked up, curious.

"you look lovely tonight."

he offered a small smile, eyes full of a certain fondness that you couldn't really convey from his gaze trained forward, voice soft yet full of raw honesty.

momentarily shocked, you quickly regain your bearings.

"take a look at yourself, doctor."

he grinned, amused.

"it's only natural to want to dress well when taking a beautiful lady out for the evening."

he hopes you know he means every word.

even if this is under the guise of helping you, he so carefully planned out these dates with your enjoyment in mind, having wanted nothing more than to indulge you in a more romantic atmosphere before losing you forever.

but you didn't need to know that.

when you didn't respond with another quip, he glanced over to you, catching sight of your sheepish expression.

"sure..." you mumbled, looking down at your lap.

the radio filled the silence, and you were only grateful for another sound to focus on besides your rapidly beating heart.

. . .

the longer the evening stretched, the harder it was for zayne to keep his composure.

dinner went smoothly. he made several points about this type of date, but noticed you asked far less questions than the past two times he'd taken you out.

once the "lesson talk" ceased, conversation and the usual teasing flowed easily between the two of you.

even with the various other guests in the dining room, its like his world was only enveloped by you.

he only ever saw you.

he took a sip of his drink, allowing himself to sink into the enjoyment of the evening for as long as he was allowed.

. . .

at some point, you decided that tonight was the night for a confession.

just... not in the way that you may have intended.

you think, after going on these "dates" with zayne, spending time together that was much more intimate than before did worse things for your long-lasting feelings, and if you were going to do anything about them, it had to be tonight.

even if he only ever saw you as a childhood companion. this might be the only way to finally, truly move on.

the night was still young by the time dinner was finished, and upon zayne's suggestion, you both decided to take a stroll around the area. it wasn't too crowded and was fairly lit up, and the weather was nice enough to take your time to simply sightsee a little.

how funny. the atmosphere was what one might call perfect for this.

conversation flows again like normal, and when a comfortable silence envelops the space, you encourage yourself to go through with it.

its now or never...!

you take a deep breath before starting.

"zayne?"

he hums.

"what happens if... my confession is rejected?"

he spares you a fleeting glance before looking straight back ahead.

"i wouldn't worry about that."

you can't help the pout that adorns your face at such a response.

"its always a possibility, isn't it?" you quip.

"i doubt it, in this such case."

his response is muttered, but you still catch it.

"well, what if he's weirded out, or— or what if he's never thought of me that way? what if i've only ever just been that 'childhood-companion-turned-nuisance because of the way i forced him into a friendship?"

your voice is quiet when you let the last admission slip from your lips.

"what if... he can't fathom the idea of loving me back because of how he sees me?"

you think you've said too much, that its clear you're no longer talking about caleb.

you both stop walking. the momentary silence feels deafening.

"is that what you think?"

his voice is hushed, but its still loud enough for your ears only. your mind is screaming at you.

its now or never—!

"zayne, i—"

he turns to you, looking straight into your eyes.

"i've loved you ever since we were children, even when i didn't quite comprehend the idea of what romantic love was yet. i have only ever had eyes for you, you're always on my mind, and i find myself looking forward to the time we spend together."

your eyes are wide as you stare up at him, heart pounding harder with every word that spills from the handsome doctor's lips.

"i know my timing isn't the best, but even i was unsure of the nature of our relationship. but..." his hand lifts yours towards his lips, and you feel a soft warmth graze the back of your palm.

"contrary to your belief, i don't think he could fathom the idea of not loving you."

when he finishes his confession, you think your heart might beat right out of your chest.

"forgive me," he murmurs, releasing your hands and taking a step back. you already miss his warmth, body tingling at the instinct to reach out and pull him close once more.

when silence envelops you both again, he presumes he won't get his answer tonight.

"its quite late. we should head back—"

before he can turn on his heel, you close the distance, hands latching on to one of his.

"zayne!"

startled, he looks down at you, face expressing pure surprise. but he doesn't push you away.

"i..." you breathe out a laugh, looking up at him as you feel tears well up in your eyes.

"i thought... you never felt the same."

zayne remains quiet, but his eyes hold shock. you squeeze his hand tighter, smiling.

"i always thought... you weren't interested in me, didn't see me that way. all these years, i had willed myself to forget about you, to bury my feelings. that's where caleb came in, but..."

a tear rolls down your cheek.

"they never left. i.... i've always loved you, too."

zayne takes in every word, and wonders for a moment if he might be dreaming.

when more tears fall and you release his hand to wipe them away, his moves up to cup your face, willing your gaze towards him.

"do you mean it?"

its a whisper in the wind, for your ears only.

"yes," you breathe, one hand holding his over your cheek, pressing yourself closer into his hold.

he huffs out a laugh, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"it seems neither of us are quite smart in this area, are we?"

you sniffle before laughing with him. he swipes away another stray tear with his thumb.

"so, your plan all along was to make me jealous enough to confess?"

you gasp, turning your face away from him.

"no way! i stopped trying that tactic a long time ago when i realized it didn't work."

the pout on your face is palpable. he grips your chin between two fingers, turning your face back to face him properly.

"what if i told you... it did work, its just that a certain someone wasn't the most observant?"

your eyes fill with surprise again.

"really?!"

"really."

you huff out a breath of frustration.

"wow, this is— wow."

he smiles, reaching for your hand and allowing you to make the move in interlacing your fingers together. you do so eagerly.

"come on, lets head to that cafe, it should still be open. i was promised a treat, after all."

you let out a playful scoff, looking up at the amused doctor.

"that was if you helped me to confess!"

"is that not what that was?"

you make an unamused sound in the back of your throat, and zayne only laughs.

"that sound is like the one the cat at your apartment makes when it hasn't had enough snacks."

"oh, hush," you urge, but only grip onto his hand tighter, almost as if to prove to yourself that this was indeed real.

a comfortable silence fills the space when zayne's steps slow. you look up at him, and notice him staring up at the sky.

"the moon looks beautiful tonight."

you look up in search of it to confirm his words, not noticing his gaze having shifted towards you by then.

"yeah," you smile, already knowing the underlying message woven into his words.

"so beautiful."

-

epilogue

"another thing."

your eyes flit up from your dessert to zayne's face, his eyes trained on the cake before him, dragging a piece with his fork, the sponge secure on the spikes.

"how could you ever think i considered you a nuisance?"

your eyes widen. right, you did admit that earlier...

you laugh sheepishly, poking at your pastry with your own fork.

"haha, well, when i thought back to it, it seemed like i was the one that forced my friendship upon you."

zayne tilts his head slightly, expression quizzical. you continue.

"i... was always the one dragging you around to play with caleb and i. even now, i guess it felt like you went along with what i wanted out of... obligation or pity or something."

zayne frowns at this, deepening at the edges when you finish this off with a laugh.

you peek up at him when he's been quiet for a touch too long.

"how odd."

you raise a brow at him.

you miss his hand raising up to pinch your cheek. you let out a small surprised yelp, swatting at his hand.

"hey—!"

"you should know by now that i don't do things i don't wish to, nor have i ever been known to have many friends."

he scoops up another piece of cake with his fork.

"so, if someone always went along with you instead of pushing you away, it must mean they wanted to spend time with you, maybe even found amusement in the way that someone always went out of their way to play and spend time with that person, yes?"

he shoves the cake into his mouth as he finishes. you're left staring dumbly at him, swatting movements halting as you process his words.

he squishes the flesh softly between his fingers, swallowing the sweet dessert.

"don't ever refer to yourself as a nuisance again. you're anything but, and i'll prove it to you time and time again if i must"

he releases your cheek, retracting his hand.

"if i didn't make it clear earlier, i always cherished you the most."

your heart warms, and you reflect the smile that peeks through zayne's lips.

"i bet i cherished you more," you tease, picking up a piece of your dessert with your fork.

"nonsense," zayne states almost dramatically, eyes narrowing at you playfully.

you laugh joyfuly.

what a dream it was that zayne li had always reciprocated the feelings that you felt for him all these years, you thought.

-

a/n: this is my apology for the last zayne fic that i did not like n almost deleted but left up bc someone liked it. will slowly work on the rest of the event fics ,fear not (thought ab extending it through the month/to white day? undecided :x) have this in the meantime bc i... like this zayne fic the most

-

[kendrysaneela]

Let’s go through the events of Severance from Helena’s POV cause it’s wild from Helena’s POV as well as Helly’s. (I’m just going by memory so I may miss a few things or mix up the timeline a bit) I am not moralizing any of Helena’s actions cause this is just from her POV.

You get (presumably) coerced into splitting your consciousness in half by your abusive father to serve the cult you were raised in.

You then get the brain surgery and then you wake up in a hallway. Millchick says it’s cause you need time to adjust. But it’s okay because sometimes this just happens you’re not trying to leave.

Then you keep ending up on the other side of the door! Millchick comforts you and tells you about how grateful he is that you’re here and you’re happy to get any approval at all even if it is from your family’s cult. Maybe you’ll get some approval from your father.

Then you run through the door MORE! You’re pretty sure at this point that Millchick is lying to you when he says your innie is realizing she does want to be there but you run back through anyway.

Your innie asks to resign you reject that resignation (whether that was Helena’s decision or the board’s is not yet something we know)

Then on a later day you wake up in the elevator and your hair is all messed up your wrist is bandaged up and your makeup is running and you feel just such DEEP exhaustion but you don’t know why

Then you show up on another day and you’re in an elevator with a cd from a camcorder in your hands you watch it and your innie is asking to resign again. But this time she’s threatening your fingers??

So you record a video back (whether those were Helena’s words or words placed in front of her to say by the board yet to be seen)

THEN you wake up in an elevator GASPING for air not knowing what’s happening. I guess your innie tried to KlLL you??

The you’re forced to go back so when you do you crouch in the corner of the elevator in panic before you turn into your innie

THEN later you’re getting ready to do a speech about how great Severance is (you certainly haven’t had a good time but the board demands you do this so you’re gonna have to fake it)

Then all of a sudden you wake up being pulled off stage by Cobel you don’t even remember getting on the stage!

And you’re told that your innie took you over and said a bunch of bad stuff about Severance onstage so after your father insults you for a while you then you’re forced to read an embarrassing script in front of the whole country or the whole world talking about how you drank too much and thought it was a funny joke at the time.

THEN. You’re looking over footage of Helly who is your other consciousness and you see her kissing Mark. You see her being more free and more loved than you ever have. So you rewind that kiss over and over again.

You’re told you have to go back down there to the severed floor but it’s okay you can pretend to be Helly you don’t actually have to be her. And you actually are having a good time? You are having fun with them you’re feeling free youre feeling loved for the first time in your life, you’re making jokes about your family’s ridiculous lore it’s awesome. You’re trying to soak in the love they all have for Helly because you’ve never felt love and you don’t understand you can’t steal love because you’ve never had love before. You come clean with one of the innies about your self hatred.

Then one of the innies finds out you’re Helena and tries to DROWN YOU. To get back your other consciousness that lives in your body your innie who they love more than you. You thought they liked you but now you’re realizing that they just liked you cause they thought you were Helly you’re still stuck in a loveless life now. And now as a bonus you’re having an identity crisis about how Helly is essentially who you could’ve been if you weren’t weighed down by your family’s name.

Then you’re thinking “I definitely won’t have to go back now obviously I’ll tell my father” then you’re told that no you are going back down and you’re going back as Helly to the place where all of this happened because “The Board appreciates your sacrifice” and no one thinks the trauma you’ve faced so far is actually a big deal not even your father he won’t even talk to you about it. So you go back down against your will to the innie floor again and let the consciousness take you over again.

[lieslab]

Soon you'll get better

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Minho X gn reader

Summary: Your boyfriend tries to help you with your headaches, but when a doctor diagnoses you with something far worse than you ever expected, your world shatters.

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 2.6K

Trigger warning: Mentions of blood, nausea, a seizure, doctors, surgery, and hospitals.

_ _ _

How do you tell the love of your life that you’re sick? What do you say when it all falls apart? When someone rips out the happy ending and throws the pages, leaving them scattered, and thrown across the floor? Minho is your entire life. He’s supposed to be and yet, you’re not sure how to break the news. 

It started with headaches. The dull ache annoyed you endlessly, but they were manageable. Life took a stumble when they morphed into mind-bending migraines. The sharp pain behind your eyes, the nausea, and the sensitivity to every bright light and loud sound. 

Dull aches turned into piercing needles. It felt like being jabbed over and over again, the needles pressed against the back of your eyes. No matter what you tried, they grew impossible to manage. The painkillers stopped working. 

It grew normal to come home from work, bury yourself in the darkness of your bedroom, and sleep for hours. When you could catch sleep, it became the only thing to relieve the pain in your head. Exhaustion clung to you, but you thought it would be temporary. 

Perhaps it was too much caffeine or maybe you were pulling away from it with your caffeine withdrawals. If not that, you were certainly struggling with not drinking enough water. Maybe that was the reason why your brain screamed against you and tormented you in the worst way possible. 

Minho called your name when he came home from the doctor. He searched the house and froze in the doorway of your shared bedroom. Curled into a ball on your side, you didn’t respond. Even talking caused the pain in your head to drill harder against your skull. 

The nausea and dizziness wiped you out entirely. Soft footsteps padded over to you. He clicked on the lamp behind you, trying not to make your head feel worse. He called your name in a whisper, wondering if you were awake or not. 

The bags under your eyes grew from brown to purple. You blinked rapidly as his eyes met yours. He frowned at your paleness. All he wanted to do was make you feel better, but he didn’t know how. 

The warm baths didn’t help. He tried to massage the side of your head, but it led to you pushing him away. He picked up one of those compression bands that vowed to help, but the packaging lied. The immediate relief never came. 

“How is it today?” He whispered. 

“Worse. It’s so much worse.” 

He reached over, pushed a piece of hair from your face, and gently cupped your cheek. “I know you don’t want to, but you should consider going to the doctor. You can’t keep dealing with this. I know how exhausting it is, I feel like you’re withering away from me.” 

“I have an appointment tomorrow. Until then, I’ll be here suffering.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it didn’t meet your eyes. 

He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to the middle of your forehead. No matter what happened, he just wanted you to be back to normal. This destroyed your normal personality. You didn’t have the energy to talk back to him anymore. Your usual go-getter attitude disappeared entirely. You were becoming the ghost of who you once were.

He just wanted to see you smile again. 

_ _ _ 

When you came back from the doctor the next day, you left your bag and keys on the small table, beside the door. You didn’t have the energy to put everything where it needed to go. You barely had the energy to kick off your shoes and drag yourself to the living room. 

Test after test after test. 

A bruise bloomed where a nurse drew blood with gentle hands. You described the experiences you’d been having. Everything from the headaches, the migraines, to the lack of energy. You assumed you fell victim to chronic migraines, but your reality was so much worse. 

When the doctor diagnosed you with a brain tumor, you didn’t understand. How could you? Nobody in your genetic mapping had anything like this. Sure, you’ve heard of cancer before, but you? No way. 

You did what you could to avoid it. You drank your water, ate a balanced diet, and you were active. Still young, you lived with the silent assumption that something like this wouldn’t happen to you. If you had cancer, it wouldn’t grip onto you until you were older. Maybe your sixties or seventies, but this young? 

Silence engulfed you on the couch. The scent of hospital disinfectant made you feel sick. You were no longer there, but you still felt sick to your stomach. Your doctor pulled out the scan they took of your head. 

The small white anomaly stuck out in the usual contours of your brain folds. Alone on the hospital bed, you tried to swallow the heavy reality alone. Staring at the image, you felt disconnected from your body. How could this be your brain? Wasn’t your body supposed to protect you? 

You laid with your head pressed against the floral arm of the couch. This couch that you begged Minho to get, despite him not being a fan of the pattern. Because two years ago, you thought the two of you would be a forever thing. Now you were navigating the heart shattering realization that your version of forever might not be as long as you wanted it to be. 

“Babe?” Minho’s voice called out from the hallway. He headed towards you with outstretched arms. How long had he been here? “Are you crying? What’d you find out?” 

You wouldn’t do that to him. Minho with his slightly messy hair and the personality you joked that he adopted from his cats. Minho that screwed around and made you smile, no matter how hard of a day he had. The Minho that surprised you with seaweed soup in bed on your birthday. 

“They’re not sure,” you finally uttered after a few conflicting moments. “They think it might be chronic migraines, but they still want to run some tests.” 

“Really?” He frowned. “I thought they were going to do a ton of tests and-” 

“They did some, but I wasn’t feeling too great. I’ll go back when I feel better. The last thing they want to do is have to admit me, you know?” 

“Their job is to help you get better.” 

“And they will, when I’m better, I promise.” 

You should never make a promise that you can’t keep. 

_ _ _ 

Two weeks later, Minho screamed your name with tears in his eyes. You appeared at the JYP building to have lunch. The two of you just entered the canteen area to find food. 

Circular tables scattered around the area. Other idols took breaks here and there. Laughter filled the air. You tried to keep it together, but you didn't feel great. Your head ached and your stomach was queasy. You tried to act like you were normal, but things continued to spiral out of control. 

The doctor left you voicemails, but you ignored them. Ignoring them was easier. You tried to find the courage to tell Minho the truth, but every time you stared at those bright brown eyes, you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t find the courage to destroy his life, so you kept quiet. 

“What are you thinking? They have really good fresh sushi. On a day like today, nothing sounds better.” 

“Sushi?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Sounds great.” You dropped your head and blinked rapidly. Over the past few days, you had episodes where your vision acted up. Black spots took over and you could usually blink it away. Today’s episode felt different. 

When they finally stopped, you hurried after him. A black tray sat in his hands. Unaware that anything was wrong, he headed in the direction of the cold sushi. You grabbed your own tray and rushed to catch up. 

He grabbed a small white plate, the tongs, and began to pile up the sushi. “This morning, I spent so long dancing with the guys. I think I could eat an entire horse if they offered it.” 

You hummed, set your tray down on the metal railing, and rubbed your eyes again. You blinked harder. The spots resisted your futile attempts and you sighed. He glanced over your shoulder. “Are you okay?” 

“Just tired.” 

“When are you going back to the doctor?” 

“Probably sometime this week.” 

He pulled away from the sushi and moved his tray further down the line. A variety of sides sat everywhere. He began to load up his tray with another small plate. You grabbed your own porcelain plate to grab sushi and that’s when your vision cut out and your body went tense. 

He whipped around at the sound of a plate shattering. Worried for you, he dropped beside your limp form on the floor. He didn’t expect your limbs to curl inward. Your legs pushed your torso up and your back contorted. Your wrists curled inward and that’s when the seizing began. 

He called your name in a panic, trying to get you to respond, but you couldn’t. Your muscles tensed, your body bucked, and you shifted in such a way, you nearly hit the sharp shards of porcelain. 

“Help! Someone help!” 

A few idols and trainees rushed over. He grabbed your arms desperately, but your body didn’t stop moving. Someone pulled him away and a younger trainee stepped in. He pushed your body away from the glass and held you on your side, so you didn’t choke on your tongue. 

No sign of fear in his eyes, he glanced up at the nearest person. “Call for an ambulance, send them to the JYP building, and tell them someone is seizing.” 

Things turned to chaos. Someone pulled out a phone. You didn’t stop bucking beneath the man’s hands. Minho’s eyes watered. The familiar hue of your eyes disappeared. In its place, the milky white of your eyes stared back at him.

He never cried in public, but when it came to your pain, he was a fountain that couldn’t stop leaking.  _ _ _ 

“There’s fluid building up around the brain.” 

“The tumor is pressing against-” 

“There’s no time to waste. It’s either surgery or they die! Clear an operating room! Give me a surgical team and tell them to scrub in now!” 

Time turned to jelly in the waiting room. Minho waited with his arms crossed over his chest. His leg bounced and he chewed on his lower lip. News of the incident reached the rest of his idol group. 

Beside him, Han and Chan sat nearly just as worried. They showed up after figuring out where the ambulance took you. When Minho came rushing into the emergency room beside the gurney, your doctor from two weeks ago had been passing through the emergency room. 

He couldn’t believe it. You never told him about your brain tumor. He never knew and this entire time, you’d been acting like everything was fine on the outside. Upset with himself, he grew frustrated at not knowing the mental torment you were internally dealing with. He wished he would have picked up on it sooner. 

And now he sat in the crowded waiting room with two of his brothers. He couldn’t speak to them, even if he wanted to. If he spoke, he was sure he’d fall apart and burst into sobs that’d never stop. 

Chan texted updates to the rest of the guys. Han held Minho’s hand, but it wasn’t enough this time. Rapping was easy when he held Han’s hand. Holding his hand and realizing the love of his life sat on the verge of death, it became much harder to accept. 

When the doctor showed up in scrubs hours later, Minho was the first one on his feet. The doctor sucked in a deep breath and he assumed the worst. His stomach twisted in knots. He couldn’t breathe. 

“The tumor is entirely out. We won’t know if it’s cancerous until we do a biopsy on it. Recovery is going to be hard no matter what, but they’re recovering and out of surgery.” 

“If it’s cancer?” Minho whispered, trying to keep himself held together. 

“Then we’ll do whatever we can to prevent it from coming back. The fluid build-up caused migraines and the seizure. Taking it weighed other risks, but those are risks I was willing to take.” 

“Can I see them?” 

“Of course.” 

Minho gave a final look to Han and Chan. Han squeezed his hand a final time and Chan nodded. He wiped his eyes and followed the doctor to your room. Seeing you in your state, it broke his heart. 

Your hair had to be shaved for the surgery. A line of stitches sat along your scalp. The doctor led him closer and gestured to a chair beside your bed. “If you need anything at all, press the call button and a nurse will be here immediately.” 

“Thank you.” 

The doctor reached out, gave his shoulder a light squeeze, and disappeared from the room. Hooked to a variety of medical equipment, you turned into a stranger. Beneath IVs of medicine and the tangled cords of a heart rate monitor, he felt like a stranger in your room. 

Flashes of your seizure shot through his brain. He squeezed his eyes shut and placed his hands in his face. He just wished you would have told him about everything. Maybe, he would have felt less guilty about the state you were in. 

“Minho?” You croaked five minutes later. 

He sniffled and jerked upright. “Hey,” he forced himself to smile. “I see you’re still kicking.” 

“I’m invincible.” 

“You think so?” 

“I’m trying to be.” 

Even in the middle of everything, you were still trying to be upbeat. Swaddled in the warmth of sedation, your head didn’t hurt anymore. Your eyes met his and then you shut them. “They’ve got me on the good shit.”

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Rude.” 

“But you’re my idiot.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the center of your forehead. “Don’t scare me like that ever again. I thought you were dying.” His own eyes shut and he kept his forehead pressed against yours. 

“Not dying, just keeping you on your toes. Reminding you of what you’ve got. Don’t take me for granted ever again.” 

“You’re such a pain in my ass when you’re sedated.” 

“I always am.” 

He pulled away with a sigh. “You should get some rest.” 

“Did the doctor fix everything?” 

“For now. They’re going to biopsy your tumor to see if it was cancerous or not.” 

“It wasn’t.” 

“And how do you know that?” 

“Because I feel good.”

“You’re still drugged up.” 

“I feel like myself again. I know me and I know my body. I think if it was cancer, I’d still feel like shit.” 

He stared at you, trying not to cry again. He blinked rapidly and swallowed the lump in his throat. “You should get some sleep again. You’re foolish when you’re on drugs.” 

“Your worst nightmare.” 

“Good night.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, dork.”  _ _ _ 

And you were right. You knew your body pretty well. A week later, your tumor was diagnosed as a benign tumor. Not cancerous, you were issued a few follow up scans and blood tests. You’d probably have scans every year, just to keep an eye on things, but that was manageable.  

You’d do whatever it took to keep your forever with Minho for a long, long time.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @danihwang882 @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght @chrizrizz

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Ko-fi

[oneandonlyjiyanxscarshipper]

Recently I’ve been thinking what would welt look like as a boss.

He is the Herrscher of reason (I like to also call it Herrscher of mimicry) because their main power is creating copies of things (as long as they understand those things)

So I imagine some of Welt moves would be copies of previous bosses moves

Like say aventurine’s gamble or hitting your team with a shitload of gambling chips

Maybe something from Sunday’s boss battle, like those little Angel shits. That you have to break.

And a capturing technique like in svarog’s boss fight. Maxing at 3 captures.

Then some special effect like a heavy slowing and set back of your team. Giving enemies more turns. Maybe an ability to remove buffs from your team.

I would imagine his boss form would be full out Herrscher (so not them grandpa ass clothes) with his Herrscher eyes and the star of Eden being returned to its original form. Mostly likely also floating off the ground (cause Herrschers can do that)

Maybe a move that ties back to his deal with Void Archives or alternatively having Void Archives as an ally. Like Black Swan in the fight again Gallagher weird ass dog, or the train in the Sunday fight.

I Imagine he’d have special voice lines for defeating members of the astral express

Dan Hang: Oh what a shame to have to reset all your progress, time to start over little vidyahara

March 7th: Oh March. Shame it had end this way, to never learn of you true origins or to regain your memories

Himeko: Consider this Your final trailblazing expedition.

Caelus: Poor Caelus, shame you can’t see this journey to the end. Maybe you should have just stayed and worked for Herta

Stelle: Poor Stelle, shame you can’t see this journey to the end. Maybe you should have just stayed and worked for Herta

Sunday: This was an outcome bound to happen. No Aeon can save you. Now die like the Order did.

Oh and here are some for the Stellaron Hunters as well

Blade: Consider this an act of mercy, I’m bringing your suffering to end

Kafka: Can’t talk your way out of this one Kafka

Silverwolf: Enjoy the taste of losing, because you never had a chance at winning

Firefly/Sam: Die and go join your comrades in the afterlife

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Class Act

Pairing: Josh Lyman x Reader

Rating: T

Length: 3.9K

Notes: This was supposed to be shorter. Oh well. Not beta-read, cause when is it ever.

Warnings: Fake dating; fluff. This is just fluff.

Summary: You’d signed up for the cooking class on a complete whim. You’d been tipsy after brunch, wandering through one of your favorite cookware stores. The signup sheet had practically waved at you, and you’d jotted your name down, secure in the knowledge that you did indeed have something to do for Valentine’s Day. 

But what you had failed to realize, when you’d so smugly put your name down, was that it was a couple’s cooking class.

You were trying not to feel too goddamn awkward about the whole thing but—hell, this sucked. 

It was bad enough to begin with. All of your friends were coupled up, and had apparently formed a consensus that if they didn’t step in, you would die alone. 

Well, the joke was on them—that was already your plan. 

But their repeated attempts to sign you up for speed dating on Valentine’s Day was as abhorrent as it was uncomfortable. You had managed to talk them down, to insist that you had your own plans. You hadn’t specified what those plans were, but they’d still backed down. 

You’d signed up for the cooking class on a complete whim. You’d been tipsy after brunch, wandering through one of your favorite cookware stores. The signup sheet had practically waved at you, and you’d jotted your name down, secure in the knowledge that you did indeed have something to do for Valentine’s Day. 

But what you had failed to realize, when you’d so smugly put your name down, was that it was a couple’s cooking class.

So there you were, surrounded by eleven nuzzling, giggling, hand-holding couples who were ready to feed each other whatever the hell it was that you would be making. You’d gotten a couple of odd looks, but for the most part, the couples were so wrapped up in one another that they hadn’t taken too much notice of the fact that you were there by yourself. Maybe that would work to your advantage. You made yourself busy with the laminated recipe in front of you, fingers fidgeting with the ties on your apron. God, this was going to be a long night—

“Is this, uh—Half of your table taken?” 

The question caught you off-guard, and you turned to see a harassed looking man trying and failing to shrug out of his camel coat. 

“N-no,” You shook your head. 

“You’re not—” He cast his bright, coffee brown eyes around the room toward the other couples. “You’re not waiting for anyone?” 

“Nope.” 

“Great.” 

“There’s a coat rack over there. Aprons are on the end.” You nodded toward it. 

“Great.” 

You watched him go, plucking up a hanger and shoving his coat onto it with muted irritation. Your brows rose at the way he jabbed it into the shoulders, tipping up the fabric as he did. He looked vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t place him. 

You hurriedly turned back to the table as you saw hi turn back toward you. It wouldn’t do to be caught staring at the stranger that you would be spending the next couple of hours with. Maybe the time would pass in a comfortable quiet as you worked in tandem. It was possible that not a single word would be spoken between you—

“So how did you get roped into this?” His question was dipping with vitriol. 

“Uh…” Now you were embarrassed to say. “I signed up.” 

“To a couple’s cooking class?” 

“Yes.” 

“...By yourself?” 

His tone was one part confused, two parts disbelieving, and it made you feel like a whole idiot. 

“I didn’t read too closely when I was signing up.” 

“Ah.” 

“What about you?” You chanced a glance toward the man just in time to catch him grimacing. 

“...I lost a bet with my boss.” 

“And you’re going through with it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” You laughed. “Who’s your boss, the president or something?” 

The man’s guarded gaze flickered toward you, and your mirthful grin fell away as the pieces fell into place. 

“Oh…My god.” 

“Yeah.” 

“You’re Josh Lyman.” 

“Yeah.” 

“...Holy shit.” 

“Thanks, I think.” 

You scoffed a laugh before you turned back to your table, gently nudging the recipe between the two of you. He leaned in, his warm breath pushing against your cheek as he murmured,

“...Do I get to know your name, too?” 

“Oh! God, yeah, sorry.” You turned, holding your hand out to him and introducing yourself. His smile lifted a bit as you pumped his hand. 

“Nice to meet you,” You added, finally letting go of him. 

“Yeah, nice to meet you, too.” 

You turned back to the table, fingers drumming on the butcher block countertop as the teacher called you all to attention:

“Happy Valentine’s Day, all! My name is Amanda, and I’ll be your teacher. I’m so glad that you were all able to make it here this evening. Tonight, we’ll be making the recipe that was highly requested: Better Than Sex cake.” Her gaze swept around the room, a knowing smile on her lips. You almost wanted to shrink back at the speculative look that passed over you, Josh's mutter of, “Crying out loud," at your side.

“So! This recipe will need to be attacked as a team! I will demonstrate up here, so try to keep the canoodling to the minimum when the stove and oven are on. We want red-hot love, not red-hot hands and a trip to the ER.” 

“...We’re gonna crush this, right?” Josh murmured. 

“Why would we do that?” 

“To show all of the other couples how strong we are as a team.” 

“We’re not a team.”

“We are tonight. Besides, they don’t know that.” 

Your brows rose, amusement swelling at the mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“...You just wanna piss these people off.” 

“A little, yeah. This holiday is bullshit. Let’s ruin it.”

You grinned, unable to help yourself. 

“That sounds absolutely diabolical, Mr. Lyman.” 

“You in?” 

You might work terribly together. The cake could wind up being a complete disaster. 

“I am so in.” 

“Let’s begin!” Amanda clapped her hands together. “Now I know that we could take a shortcut here and use a boxed mix for the devil’s food cake, but there are no shortcuts in love. We will be making everything from scratch." 

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at the comment, already reaching for the cocoa powder. You glanced toward Josh, brows knitting.

“Do you cook at all?” 

“I’m very good at burning stuff.” 

“Okay,” You nodded, “This is gonna be great.” 

“Apparently you’re the optimist in the relationship.”

“I was being sarcastic.” 

“You know what, so was I. Match made in heaven.” 

-- 

“...So can I ask what the bet was?” You plied, glancing over at Josh. He hummed questioningly, doing a double-take when he caught you looking at him.

“Oh, I, uh,” He huffed a humorless laugh, “I made the mistake of arguing with him on the outcome of the Mets-Nationals game. Last time I make an over/under bet with the president.”

“What’s an over/under?”

“It’s a bet on the points total. You’re, uh,” He smiled, watching you stir a saucepan of milk, butter, water, cocoa powder, and instant coffee together, “You’re not a gambler, are you.” 

“Not at all.”

“Took a gamble on this cooking class, how’s that working out for ya?” 

You glanced at him, considering. So far, it wasn’t nearly as awkward as you thought it would be. You actually had a partner to cook with, and he was pretty easy on the eyes, if you were being completely honest. You gave a small shrug, turning back to the pan. 

“It’s already turning out better than I thought.” Your panic flared as you rushed to cover: “I mean, didn’t think I’d be making cake tonight. I like cake.” 

"Yeah, cake is good.”

You glanced up at the sound of Amanda’s voice as she called out, “Whoever is not bringing the chocolate mixture together should be putting together the dry ingredients.”

“That’s you, Lyman.” 

“On it.” 

You watched him out of the corner of your eye, taking in the steady, sure movements he makes as 

“...So, who won, the Mets or the Nats?” 

“The Nats? Oh, god. Am I baking with a Nationals fan?” 

“No,” You chuckled, “But you’re baking with the daughter of one.” 

“The Nationals won.”

“You poor thing.” 

“Keep that up and you’re gonna be making this cake yourself.” 

“Do I hear a lover’s quarrel brewing?” Amanda asked, and it was only a second before everyone's attention landed on the two of you. 

“No, no!” You hurried, slapping a smile on your face. 

“My honey likes it when I tease her,” Josh tacked on, and it was so fast and sounded so natural that it nearly knocked you on your ass. 

“Oh, look at her lovesick little smile,” Amanda cooed, sending a bolt of embarrassment shooing from your head to the tips of you toes. “A little passion will add spice in the kitchen. The rest of the class could take a leaf out of your book.” 

You glanced toward Josh just in time to catch his smug smile growing before he went back to measuring and sifting the dry ingredients. You waited until Amanda goes back to teaching before you leaned a little closer, murmuring, “Quick thinking.” 

“That’s why they pay me.” 

“Not for your secret inflation plans?” 

“Ouch,” Josh laughed humorlessly. “No. Definitely not for my secret inflation plans.”

--

“Now,” Amanda clapped her hands together. “We all have our cakes in the oven at 350—save for Gina and Marvin, but don’t fret, kids. This is how we learn about the importance of communication—in life, in love, and in the kitchen!” She shot a sickly sweet smile at the couple closest to her. You bit down on your lip to keep from laughing, but couldn’t help a soft snort as Josh murmured, “Gina’s head looks like it’s going to explode.” 

You lightly elbowed him in the ribs, covering your mouth to hide your smile.  

“We have a little time while the cake is in the oven, and I’d love to get to know who I’m baking with! Why don’t we go around the room—”

“Oh no,” You mumbled. 

“And get to know a bit about one another! I’d love to know your names, how long the two of you have been together, and how you met! Gina, Marvin, let’s start with you two.”

“Quick huddle,” Josh murmured, scooching closer. He turned his head slightly, eyes set on the wall behind your head as he spoke into your ear: “How do you wanna play this?”

“Why are you asking me? You’re the quick thinker here, remember?”

“Yeah, but we’re a team.”

“So?”

“So it’s your turn to make something up.”

“I didn’t realize we were taking it in turns.” 

“Gotta give to get, honeybun.”

“Are all of your pet names honey-based variants?”

“Would you prefer sugar-based variants?”

“I’m sensing a theme. Thank god we didn’t meet at a sausage making class.”

“Afraid you’d put the brat in bratwurst?”

“Lyman—”

“And what about you two!” Amanda’s voice cut through your bickering, snapping your attention back to the front of the room. You forced a calm expression, quickly introducing yourself. 

“And this is Josh. We’ve been together for…Well, let’s see if Josh knows.” 

A knowing chuckle from the other women rippled through the room, and Josh’s lips twitched with a smile.

“It’ll be two years next week."

You narrowed your eyes slightly. Two years, huh? 

“How close is he?” Amanda prodded. 

“Close enough, I’ll let it slide.” 

Another knowing chuckle from the group, but you were too distracted by the way Josh’s smile widened, deepening his dimples as he stepped back to eye the cake in the oven. 

“And how did you two meet?” 

“At a sausage making class.” It was out of your mouth before you could stop it, but it was well worth Josh’s head snapping up in surprise. There were a few guffaws from the surrounding couples, but Amanda’s interested, “Aaaah,” Cut over the class. 

“Then this isn’t your first cooking class rodeo?” 

“Oh, hardly.” 

“That explains why the two of you have been so in-sync. The trust that the two of you have,” Amanda shakes her head, “It really reads. Were you paired up in that class as well?” 

“No, but the teacher suggested that we look to Josh for pointers. He was nominated as having the best of the wursts.” 

You could see Josh pull his lips between his teeth, biting down as his shoulders subtly shook with laughter. 

“Baking is a little more my thing,” You added, “But he’s getting there.” 

“That’s so sweet. I cannot wait to see how your cake turns out,” Amanda grinned, clapping her hands together before gesturing to the next couple. “And you two?” 

Josh shuffled a little closer as the class’ attention shifted, hip nudging against yours. 

“You’re unbelievable,” He muttered. 

“That’s why you love me.” You gave Josh a sickly sweet smile. “And whatever needs winging next, it’s your turn.” 

--  

“That was not bad cake.” 

“No, not bad. The caramel, though.” Josh’s nose wrinkled as he held the door open for you, “So fiddly.” 

“I thought you were going to set that last batch on fire.” 

“Oh come on, it wasn’t that burnt.”

“Oh, yes it was,” You laughed, tightening the collar of your coat against the damp DC chill. You glanced down at the to go bag hanging over your arm.

“We should figure out splitting the cake up.” 

“You can have it.” 

“What? No way, I can’t finish this thing by myself. Besides, if you bring some in for the president, you’ll prove that you actually went through with the bet.”

Josh’s lips pursed as he glanced around. 

“I hate to admit it, but that’s a really good point.” 

You considered, glancing in the same direction before making yet another snap-decision. 

“I live, like, three blocks away. We can split it into tupperware. That way neither of us wind up with an entire cake.” 

Josh hesitated, shaking his sleeve back to eye his watch. 

“Ah…Okay. Okay, sure.” 

“Cool. I'm this way,” You nodded to the right, leading the way down the block. Josh’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, drawing you a little closer, and you frowned, glancing back toward it. 

“Uh—” 

“Amanda just came out and she’s locking up,” Josh murmured. 

“Goodnight, lovebirds!” You heard, and you twisted your head, giving her a friendly wave. 

“Night!” 

“Lovebirds,” Josh muttered. 

“Oh, be nice. She was very sweet, all things considered. She didn’t lay on the romance stuff too thick.”

“You didn’t think that was too thick? The whole…No shortcuts, or the importance of communication in life or love or whatever?” 

“I mean, none of that is technically wrong.” 

“So you’re a Nationals fan and a hopeless romantic?” 

“No. I’m just willing to accept that there are certain things that make relationships successful.” 

“Right,” Josh muttered. “Well, if you’re so aware of these things, why aren’t you in a relationship?”

Your smile faltered, and you turned your attention forward again. 

“...Or is there someone and they fucked up so royally that you had separate Valentine’s plans?” Josh prodded. You shook your head. 

“No. There’s no one.” 

“So?” 

“Well why are you single?” 

Josh blinked owlishly, mouth pursed into a small ‘o’.

“Uh—I’m busy,” He shrugged. “It’s kind of a high-profile job, working for the president—”

“Brag.” 

“—And the people I meet I’m mostly working with. Flirting is kinda frowned upon in the White House.”

“Frowned upon, but not explicitly against the rules?” 

“It’s usually a bad idea, trust me. I’ve dated people I’ve worked with before, it’s almost never gone well.”

“Almost?” 

“...Never.” 

“Mm.” 

“What about you? I don’t even know what you do.” 

“I’m a paralegal, and there’s no one at work that I would date.” 

“No? Not scoping out some handsome hot-shot lawyer who’s too busy eyeing a corner office to notice all of the love you pour into your memos?” 

“Oh, please,” You scoffed. “All of the lawyers I work with are at least 60.” 

“Older guys can be good. Nice and stable.” 

“And looking for blondes in their early twenties that’ll look good yachting in Cape Cod.” 

“I think you’d look great yachting in Cape Cod.”

“Well thanks, but I’m not sure they’d agree.” 

“No interest in anyone outside of work?” 

“Eh. I don’t know,” You shook your head. “Not really? My friends are all in relationships and they’ve been nagging me to get out there more, but it all just…Sucks. That’s how I wound up signing up for that class. I just wanted to tell them I had plans tonight so they’d get off my back.”

You fished into your pocket for your keys as you neared the front door, reluctantly stepping out from under Josh’s arm to lead the way up the stoop steps.

-- 

“Nice place.”

“Thanks,” You shot him a small smile over your shoulder as you head into the kitchen. “I’ll just grab some tupperware.” You shrugged out of your coat, hanging it and your keys up in their usual places in your entryway. You got a few steps down the hall before you stopped, turning to look at Josh. All of the other chances that you’d taken that evening had paid off, more or less. One more couldn’t hurt, right?

“Would you like something to drink?” 

Josh looked up from his pager, brows raised in surprise. 

“Oh—Sure.”

“Water? Beer, wine…?” You trailed off, taking another couple of steps back. 

“Beer would be nice.” 

“Okay.” You turned, adding, “You can leave your coat there,” as you hurried into the kitchen. You set the bag of cake on the counter before opening your fridge. Beer first, then tupperware. He’d stay for maybe half, you’d divvy the cake up, then bing bang boom, he would be out of there.

-- 

“Tell me another one.” 

“No, god no,” You laughed, leaning back against your couch. “I’ve already told you too much.” 

“One more,” Josh implored, scooching closer, his knee nudging yours. 

“It’s your turn.” 

Josh sighed, tipping his head back as he considered. You rested your elbow against the back of the couch and propped your chin up on your hand as you got a better look at him. With a beer in hand and his tie loosened, he was a far cry from the harried man that had asked to share your counter at the cooking class. 

“Alright, I’ve got one,” He met your eye again. “The heat was out in the West Wing, so Sam—I told you about Sam?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“He and I had the great idea to start a fire in one of the fireplaces.” 

Your brow furrowed a touch. “That…Doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” 

“Well, it is if the fireplace is decorative and sealed.” 

You spluttered a laugh as Josh shook his head with a grudging smile. 

“Oh…Mr. Lyman.” 

“Live and learn.” 

You shook your head, leaning up to put your empty can of beer on the coffee table. Your eyes caught on the clock in the corner, and your eyes widened slightly. 

“Oh—Shit.” 

“What is it?” Josh twisted to see what you were looking at. He hurriedly shook his sleeve back, double-checking the time on his watch. “Oh, shit.” 

“Yeah,” You laughed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you this late—”

“No, you didn’t.” 

“Let me divvy that cake up.” You pushed off of the couch, taking up your empty beer can and hurrying back to the kitchen. You really hadn’t meant to keep Josh there. Sure, it had been nice to talk to him, but it was three in the morning for crying out loud. You fished into your cabinet for clean tupperware before you pulled the cake out of the bag that you’d brought home. You heard Josh coming in, but focused on cutting the cake. 

“Yeesh, you’re giving me all of that?” 

“Equal division of assets.” 

“Very generous of you.” 

You smiled, plopping his half in the tupperware. You set the knife in the sink, raising your thumb to suck off some of the caramel that had caught on your thumb. You glanced over to look at Josh and froze at the sight of his eyes lingering on your mouth before his gaze flitted up to yours. You turned back to the cake, heat creeping up your neck as you set the top on the tupperware. 

“You gonna tell the president what the cake was called?” You asked, desperate to fill the heated silence. 

“...Probably just him that it's cake.” 

“That’s wise.” 

You took the bag that the cake had come in, setting Josh’s tupperware in it and holding it. 

“Sorry again for keeping you so late.” 

“You didn’t,” Josh insisted.

“I just mean—” 

“I know what you mean, but. You didn’t.” 

You nodded, letting him head down the hall. You stalled in the kitchen, putting your half of the cake in the fridge. You drew in a deep breath, steadying yourself. He wasn’t looking at your mouth like that, he was just—He was probably perturbed that a grown woman was sucking caramel off of her thumb instead of washing her hands. 

You turned into the hall, slowing as Josh pulled his coat on. You tucked your hands into your pockets, wandering closer. 

“You know, I’m, um…I’m sorry the Mets lost, but I’m glad you wound up at that class. That introduction round would’ve been painful to go through alone.” 

“I’m glad you didn’t read the sign up sheet more closely.”

You laughed softly, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I am, too.”

You stopped in front of Josh as he finished buttoning up his coat. When he looked at you again, you found the mischievous little smile that you were quickly becoming enamored with on his lips.

“How cliché would it be if I asked you out on Valentine’s Day?”

You blinked at him, stunned, as the question washed over you. Was he kidding? 

“Well, it’s not Valentine's Day anymore, Josh. Hasn’t been for a couple of hours.”

“I meant to ask you out a couple of hours ago.” 

You bit your lip to keep a grin from spreading across your lips. “But you didn’t.”

“You were talking about accidentally spilling a cup of coffee all over your favorite shirt, seemed like a bad time to bring it up.”

“Oh, so that was what convinced you to ask me out? The reassurance that you wouldn’t be the clumsiest one in the relationship?” 

“No, it was the fact that I realized it was midnight, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave.”

“Ah, so technically, I did keep you late.”

The tease was hardly out of your mouth before Josh crossed the short space between the two of you, cupping your cheek and catching your lips in a soft kiss. Your eyes widened in slight surprise before you let them slip closed, mouth working tenderly against his as you curled your arms around his shoulders. His arm wrapped around your waist, drawing you into his chest as he backed you up against your hall wall. 

You let yourself hone in on the press of his body against yours, the slight nudge of his knee between your thighs, as his tongue teased gently along the seam of your lips. You shivered, parting your lips and fingers twining in the curls at the nape of his neck. Josh drew back slowly, nose nudging gently against yours. 

“Alright, maybe you are keeping me late,” He murmured, “But I’m happy to be kept."

You tipped your chin up, drawing hiss lower lip between yours and giving it a gentle suck. He groaned, fingers tightening in your shirt as he drew back, resting his forehead against yours.

"Can I see you this weekend?"

You tipped your head back against the wall, fingers teasing around to his jaw.

"On one condition."

His smile widened as he turned his head to press a kiss to your fingertips.

"Name it," He murmured, voice buzzing against your palm.

"You find a sausage making class for us to take."

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[twopoppies]

About the fight with Zayn, I do think it was something real that affected all the boys, but especially Louis. What bothered me the most at the time was that from Zayn’s side, the narrative pushed was that harry’s ambitions for a solo career caused 1D to break up, and Zayn mentioned he was never close to Harry. This wasn’t denied on Harry's side, likely because it helped his solo career. Still, some fans hold this against Harry, ignoring the fact that even Liam implied in several interviews that for things to be resolved between them, Zayn would have to acknowledge his mistakes, which seemed unlikely. Louis also addressed this. I don't hate Zayn or anything, just annoyed with how he handled things when he left 1D, suggesting that Harry was to blame.

I do think harry suggested the hiatus but not only because he wanted a solo career (probably the Azoffs also advised him), but because he realised that the five of them were struggling both physically and mentally.

Anyway, I’m really glad they've made amends. I just wish Liam could have witnessed it too.

Hi, love I don’t actually recall Zayn blaming Harry or Liam saying those things, but I think it’s pretty clear from what Zayn has said recently, and what Harry has said in the past, that it was Harry who proposed not re-signing their contracts with Syco. Zayn was very unhappy and unwell, but he was also ambitious and wanted to get a jump on Harry and release his music first, so he split.

In his interview with Call Her Daddy Zayn spoke about leaving and said:

"There was a lot of politics going on. Certain people were doing certain things, certain people didn't wanna sign contracts, so I knew something was happening. So I just got ahead of the curve, if I'm being honest with you. I was like, 'I'm just gonna get out of here, I think this is done.'

Completely selfishly, I wanted to be the first person to go and make my own record. If I'm being completely honest with you, I was like, 'I'm gonna jump the gun here for the first time.' I'm a passive dude, but when it comes to my music and my business I'm serious about it and I'm competitive, so I wanted to be the first to go and do my own thing."

In 2017 Harry discussed the hiatus in Rolling Stone:

It was in a London studio in late 2014 that Styles first brought up the idea of One Direction taking a break. “I didn’t want to exhaust our fan base,” he explains. “If you’re shortsighted, you can think, ‘Let’s just keep touring,’ but we all thought too much of the group than to let that happen. You realize you’re exhausted and you don’t want to drain people’s belief in you.”

After much discussion, the band mutually agreed to a hiatus, which was announced in August 2015 (Zayn Malik had abruptly left One D several months earlier).

Full article here

So, it’s really clear to me that yes, Harry wanted a solo career at that point, but he also could see the writing on the wall for the band.

They would need to sign another contract with Syco in 2015, probably for yet another three albums. Not only were their tours not selling out anymore, but their albums and singles weren’t doing as well as they once did, and there was no way they would survive another three tours and another three albums in another three years. It would have been madness to keep going at that pace.

And if Zayn was aware of it (as evidenced by his comment about certain people not wanting to sign contracts etc) they all were aware of it (unless the other three were blind to what was happening right in front of their faces). This idea that Harry ambushed them suddenly and that Louis, in particular, had no idea it was coming, is complete nonsense.

I think there were a lot of things going on, most of which we have no idea about, and they all needed a break. But there were probably a lot of things said and done that hurt people and it took a long time for them to be mature enough to talk about it all.

I don’t blame Zayn (or Harry) for breaking up the band. It was clearly time. I’m just sad that it ended in a way that was so emotionally difficult for them. But it does seem that Louis and Zayn have begun to mend their relationship. And yeah, I wish Liam was here to witness it.

[astoryscribbler]

I've just had a thought about Lego Monkie Kid. And Macaque's eye and how he got the wound.

I'm still new to the show and fandom but I've also been consuming it constantly for two months now. The show, edits, fanfic, all of it. So I've repeatedly seen that Macaque's scar in fanon is taken to be caused by Wukong striking him with his staff. The scar is made so much more dramatic than the one in the show in fanart, various fanfics I've seen describe their fight and describe Wukong only fighting with his staff (and killing Macaque with That blow).

This is to the point that in my own fanfic I've started writing ("Crystal Memories" on AO3) I follow this fanon line.

Here's the thing though.

The show presents the scar as being a slash. As in a cut from something sharp.

In S2 E7 Shadow Play, MK coming in to attack Macaque makes him have a flashback and he sees a silhouette of Wukong coming in to strike with a fist. Or maybe a claw.

This animation is even repeated in S5 E7 Into the Pagoda when Wukong is trapped by the Hundred Eyed Demon and he relives the moment he's fighting Macaque, and a purple Silhouette of a monkey comes in with a fist or claws. And it rips through the eye of the demon to free Wukong.

So. Did Wukong take his eye with his staff? Or with his claws?

I could see people saying that we know it's the staff because in S3 E3 when Macaque speaks to LBD we get that stylised flashback of the Macaque and Wukong fight and that shows Wukong with his staff in what we assume to be the Deadly Moment. However that I would argue is LBD portraying the story (since she literally showed herself as Macaque's saviour in those panels) and she already shows she's an unreliable narrator as SWK is depicted in his modern day garb. Not his Journey garb. So it's safe to assume that she doesn't know how SWK dealt the blow that killed Macaque.

But yeah, thoughts?