#I've been gone for a whole month to the point that i don't even have an excuse as to why i haven't

[midnight-mourning]

Roses are Red

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 2💘💘

I was feeling, something, when I wrote this, and by that i mean lots of flirting and such ajsldkfjklsjdf

Prompt: Gardeners Sun and Moon preparing a special bunch of roses for their dear Y/N and hiding an engagement ring in a single special rose. Y/N happily saying yes and giving the boys a smooch!

Word Count: 2403

Read here if you prefer ao3!

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You stand by the kitchen door, hand on your hip and brow raised. 

"This again?" You ask the moon-themed bot in front of you, as he leans one elbow on the counter. Awkwardly, mind you, with his height. 

He shrugs, despite very clearly blocking the door to outside. "I'm afraid I don't follow, Sweet."

You cross your arms, nodding to behind him. "Okay, then may I get past you to go outside?"

"Why bother?" He tsks. "Dreadful weather today, wouldn't you rather stay inside?"

You wrinkle your nose. "No. I think it's a lovely morning actually, based on how sunny it is, and the nice breeze coming in through the window. I'd like to read my book on the swing." 

You'd gotten up extra early for exactly this reason. You were hoping if you woke up just a bit sooner, you could sneak out and enjoy the garden as you'd so been hoping to. It was a bit frustrating that you had to put it that way. 'Sneaking out' of your own home. But that's what it had come to at this point. 

Loved them as you did, but your gardeners had been exceedingly... difficult over the course of the last month or so. Despite the spring months finally being upon you, the prime time to truly enjoy the garden and appreciate their hard work, you'd been banned from the space entirely. 

Keep in mind, they were always bashful when it came to their work, and would sometimes not let you see their handiwork in the early days of spring since it wasn't 'complete' until all the flowers bloomed. This was different however, as you hadn't been barred from seeing the castle gardens just mere yards from your residence, nor the plants being tended to in the greenhouse.

No, it was specifically what they were working on in your garden—the walls far too high for you to peek over, unfortunately—where the source of your woes lied. Apparently. They were being incredibly secretive about the whole affair, going so far as to deny outright that you were banned from your own space.

Or in this case, making excuses. 

"Ah, but the weather could change at any time. Surely you'd rather not take the risk and spend your time doing something else?"

You lean back on the kitchen counter. "Like?"

"Reading your book inside, of course." Moon nods, straightening and walking over to you. "Even better, you can read it to me, out on the parlor couch, perhaps. I could hold you, or better yet, you could hold me. I've a terrible crink in my neck that only resting in your lap can resolve I fear. What do you say?"

You tilt your chin up as he now stands in front of you, towering over you even when he sets his hands on the counter on either side of you. Not so subtly blocking you in. 

You hum. "Don't you have work to do?"

"Sun can handle himself for a bit, and really I think I've more than earned a morning's rest." He leans down so your faces are only a few inches apart. "You wouldn't deny your poor Beloved a break, Star. Right?"

You huff, though the temptation to take him up on his offer—and more—was at an all time high. "Beloved is a bit of a stretch at the moment."

"Is it now—" Just as the gap was about to close between you, Moon is gone. He makes a strangled noise of surprise as he's yanked back by a half-gloved yellow hand.

Sun releases him after a moment, cheery as can be. "More than earned a morning's rest, hm? Last I recall you didn't spend six hours potting pansies without a break, did you?"

Moon grumbles, but doesn't retaliate further than that. 

Before you can say anything, Sun turns to you, seeming to know what you were going to say. "The garden is off limits for the time being, Sunbeam. I might suggest the castle grounds for a good location instead. Once we've finished up here this morning I'd be happy to join you. I'll even bring lunch if you'd like." He finally finishes putting on his glove, adjusting his work apron. 

"And just where do I fit into that scenario?" His counterpart asks, searching around for his own outerwear.

Sun's grin widens further, eyes upturned crescents. "Why, you'll be busy trimming the hedges that you've been putting off all week, of course."

"That all sounds lovely, though I do feel bad for Moon." You step closer to the sunny animatronic, arms coming up to wrap around his neck. "But I do have to press you on the reason for why I can't access part of my own home. Which you live in, mind you."

He sadly doesn't buy into your scheme, hand cupping your cheek as his rays click. "You'll find out soon enough. No need to go spoiling the surprise at this time. Go enjoy your morning, Love." He presses a kiss to your forehead and you scoff lightly, despite the heat rising to your cheeks. 

"Fine. But no more putting mud on the windows, while I'm gone. Makes me feel like I'm living in a cave." You hadn't expected them to go to such lengths, though knowing them you weren't surprised either. 

"No promises~"

Later on in the day you do in fact, enjoy a picnic with Sun, Moon nearby as he begrudgingly trims hedges. Though, another week goes by, and you still can't enter the garden. Not to mention, the flirty banter you typically so easily exchange has dropped to practically nothing. 

Your advances are avoided, to the point you can hardly even get a goodnight or good morning kiss. Which, given that you were used to being overwhelmed with affection, being underwhelmed is, incredibly deflating. So, you decide to change your tactic. 

You wait until one of them is alone, in this case Sun, to strike. While he may act very blunt and avoidant with Moon around, alone you think you can get him to slip up and finally tell you what they're up to. 

You find him on a quiet rainy afternoon hard at work in the greenhouse. The rain pitter-patters softly against the glass far above, the space cast in a bit of shadow from the grey sky and plants that are all encompassing throughout. 

He's at a workbench, tending to a group of sickly looking hydrangeas when you find him. He jumps a fraction when your arms wrap around him, head resting on his shoulder as you watch him work. 

"Oh, hello, Starlight. What brings you here in these conditions?" Despite the evenness of his tone you can hear a tinge of anxiety underneath. 

Your hands shift to slide across his arms, causing him to freeze at your touch. "Was curious about you. Wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Well, as you can see, I'm simply just—" He hesitates as you turn to kiss one of his rays. "B-busy. Would hate for these hydrangeas to wither away because of a lack of care."

You chuckle, kissing him again. "I suppose so. What a pity." Just as he turns to face you, you pull back from him, moving to sit on the workbench instead. 

"Something else you need, Sweetpea?" Sun chuckles nervously, you can see the smallest hint of steam arising from him.

You have to smother your smirk to keep your own composure. "Nope, just want to watch you work is all. Don't mind me."

"Ah, of course."

For several minutes there's nothing but muted clinking and such as Sun works, posture stiff as you keep your eyes—and hands—on him. Just simple little touches, traces patterns on his forearms or handing him things every so often. It only spurs you further as you notice your plan is working, the flustered avoidance you'd been experiencing is now just fluster, and you see your chance. 

"You know. There is something else I'm thinking you could help with." You reach out and cup his chin. "If you're willing, that is."

You see his rays flutter just a tad. "That so?" 

"Mhm. It'd be really easy for you to do too. And if you do, I might have something for you in return." You lean in, just hovering your lips above his smile. 

He chuckles, eyes-lidded. "A trade then? I'm certainly not opposed."

"I was hoping you wouldn't be. Now, close your eyes—hey!" You're suddenly plucked off the bench and hauled over a shoulder by blue and white hands. Quickly marched away from a startled and utterly confused Sun, as you see when you glance back. 

Moon sets you down by the door to the greenhouse, displeased grin on his features. "Dirty tricks like that belong in the garden, Moonflower."

"Well, I'm not allowed in the garden, so I had to resort to other locations." You huff, brushing off your clothes. "Was that really necessary?"

He bends to your level, eye to eye and inches apart. "It was."

"You're not on my kiss list now, I hope you know that." 

Moon's hands cup your cheeks, faceplate spinning once. "What a shame then, that you're on mine."

He kisses you once, then steps back. 

"Tomorrow, if the weather clears up, tomorrow you can go in the garden as you choose. I promise." His thumb rubs against your cheek, troubled look in his eyes before he shakes his head. 

You keep your frown, despite the heat on your face, and nod. "Tomorrow, then."

You stomp out of the greenhouse and into the rain in the hopes of making it clear your resolve is temporary. In reality you think it just makes you cold, and wet. 

But, the next morning the sun peeks through the clouds and after a brief and somewhat quiet breakfast, your gardeners finally relent. 

While you're beaming with excitement, they both seem nervous as can be. You're so caught up in all the activities you wish to do that you're only half catching the anxious looks and fidgeted movements they share between each other. 

Sun's hands are clasped in front of him as he speaks. "We're sorry it's taken so long, Love. We had several setbacks—" He sends a glare to Moon, who shrugs. "But, we hope you like it."

"And if you don't, just keep it to yourself." Moon's hand rests on your shoulder with a snicker, though there's still that nervous hint to his tone. 

You scoff at the two of them. "I always love what the two of you create. Regardless of whether it's for me or anyone else." 

With a final sigh, Sun steps out of your way and you all but skip over to and out the door, the warm morning light hitting your skin like an embrace. The garden sparkles from the dew and the day prior's rain. All across—

"Roses?" You ask, in awe at the sheer abundance of them. 

Several varieties and colors cover the expanse of the garden, from the edges to the center. Every flower bed is filled to the brim with them. Yes, there's the typical flowers and bushes they plant as well, sprinkled in here and there. Primarily, however, are the roses. 

You walk through the grass with a sense of curiosity at the scenery around you. It's breathtaking, but not the least bit suffocating. Brimming with life, but not crowded. It was, in a way, perfect. 

Though, you don't understand why they tried so hard to hide this from you. Yes, it was stunning, but the secrecy you just couldn't—

As you turn around again, you see the two of them standing there, together, with a large bouquet in their hands. It consists of bright yellow and deep purple—near black—roses. 

"These are for you, if you hadn't already guessed." Moon's gaze is elsewhere as he holds the flowers out with his counterpart. 

Sun's rays are spinning quickly as you flick your gaze to him, he coughs and also looks away. "We, we hope it's to your taste. We got what we thought would suit you best."

You're too stunned to really think on the words. "Oh, these are, incredible." You say, gently taking the neatly wrapped bouquet from them. "For me, really? You didn't need to—"

Inspecting the flowers closer, you realize that in the center of the cluster, there's something shimmering in the middle of a rose. This one is different from all the others. Its center is yellow, but the outer petals expand out into that deep violet, with speckles of contrast all throughout. Lying in the very center however, is a ring. 

It clicks then for you. 

"This needed to be special, to show how much you mean to us, hence all the preparation." Sun states. 

Moon continues. "An ordinary flower wouldn't do you justice, nor would an ordinary proposal. The garden served as the best place to refine both."

You nod slowly, feeling a little more than just choked up. 

"Is, are you, will you—" Sun stops himself. 

"Would you do these two humble fools the honor of having your hand?" Moon asks. 

"Yes, that."

You nod again, quicker now, face on fire and tears pricking your eyes. "Yes, yes, absolutely yes!"

Before either can react you shift the bouquet so you can grab them both by their shirts, planting a kiss to each of their smiles several times. 

Breathless, you pull back to hug them both. "I would have taken just a simple stroll by the lake, you didn't have to go through all this trouble just for me. But know I appreciate it more than anything. Thank you, I love you. So, so much."

Based on the clicks and whirls that emit from the two of them, and the bits of steam, you think they're as overwhelmed as you in that moment. Sun's lop-sided grin and Moon's half-lidded daze makes you chuckle. 

"Duly noted." Sun states. 

Moon nods. "Don't spend four years seeding, growing, and experimenting with roses next time. Understood."

"Four years?" Your brows shoot up. "But we met just roughly four years ago."

"We know. We started on this about a week in."

At this you shake your head, laughing outright. You give them another kiss, and revel in that moment. 

It's going to be one you cherish for years to come.

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Thank you for the lovely request @amarynthian-chronicles!! I love how you always write the boys with a sense of whismy and charisma so I tried to channel that for this hehe ^^

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[theguyinthemathexamples]

You've heard about how your size, sleep schedule, way of talking, how you'd process flavours, etc. would be different/affected, right?

Now how about,,,,,,

The amount of things you eat?

Like, if we added the "you being (literally) massive" problem, it'd be more than understandable if we'd have a larger appetite. For example, what'd normally be a hearty dinner for 5 would be your average meal. Or, what mayhaps would be considered as a buffet fit for 10 people is enough to make you full. Basically a Mitsuri/the cat called Nelson in Diona's hangout quest.

At this point you might aswell get one more insecurity alongside the other balls of insecurities you already have to juggle.

Haha, balls.

[foone]

I see a lot of people joking about the adhd thing of "I have a appointment/phone call at 3pm, guess I won't do anything all day!"

But no one seems to make the connection that it's a time blindness thing. One of the symptoms of ADHD is not having a good and accurate sense of time. And not doing stuff prior to an event with a hard deadline is an obvious coping mechanism for that.

Can I go to the store? It's 10am and the appointment is at 3pm. How long does going to the store take? An hour? Three hours? Five hours? I DON'T KNOW!

I get anxious trying to do things before appointments because I'm aware that I don't know how long those things take, and that if I think I do, I may be very wrong. Too often I've been like "hey I can walk to the corner store and grab a drink, that'll take like 15 minutes!" and then an hour later I get back and whoops my rice has burnt.

Plus there's also the fact that ADHD people know that motivation and focus is a two-edged sword.

Like, let's say you decide to play a video game. You've got time, you can pause/save whenever, so this should be a perfect fit to make good use of your waiting-time. So you start playing and WHOOPS you get really focused for some reason today (because people with ADHD do not get to pick when their brain decides to focus) and the next time you look at the clock it's 2:49 and you haven't showered or dressed and the appointment is 30 minutes away. Fuck. (you could have set an alarm, but now you're asking people with the forgetting-things-and-time-ignoring condition to remember it set alarms)

And with motivation, it can be almost worse. Instead of playing a game, you so something useful or creative. You clean your room or fix your plumbing or write a story or draw a picture. And suddenly it's great. Your brain is firing on all cylinders. You've got all the motivation you can ask for, and you are FLYING. the ideas are brilliant, your hands are nimble, you're getting stuff done you've been putting off for weeks or months. And then the alarm goes off. Time to go to your appointment. Fuck.

You drive there, your brain still full of ideas and plans. But by the time you get back, the motivation is gone. You may still have the ideas but you don't have the drive to write them down. You can't force yourself to do it. Your sink is still in pieces. Your room is half-cleaned, and you have to shove all the sorted clothes into one big bin just so you have somewhere to sleep. You've left things half finished again, in a cycle that has been repeating your whole fucking life. It seems sometimes that nothing ever gets finished.

So next time you don't even start. There's not time. You've been burnt too many times. Why add another half-completed project to your pile of shame?

My point is that people seem to be going "lol I can't do anything all day if I have an appointment at 3pm" like this is a quirky "oh I'm so scatterbrained!" weirdness they alone have, and not a major complication of a disabling mental illness.

(and that's not even getting into the secondary effects. If you know that having an appointment ruins your whole damn day, you're going to avoid them. Even when it's things like "going to that party" or "meeting your friends for a drink/game" or "going to a movie with that cute girl from your math class". Things you should enjoy. Things that'd help you be social. Things that make you feel human.)

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

These are a couple doodles from yesterday, Gideon as a younger teen, before the growth spurt, maybe 14? He's discovered he's a vampire, and has a lot of recovery to do, since he's severely blood deficient.

I'm gonna let myself explode about my vampire gideon ideas, under construction, under the cut: (I don't write fanfiction, I just throw up my ideas on a tumblr post, apparently :'D)

This is what I love about tumblr - it's a place where I can throw the doodles (something that isn't finished *artwork*), and let myself be really delusional about fictional characters. So I'm gonna take a moment to ramble about the ideas I have for Gideon as a vampire.

If you're a fellow Gideon Head, HI THERE... anyway, here's my thought process on a potential vampire-gideon backstory???

I've always liked the idea of gideon being a vampire, and also becoming a much better person when he's older. And that got me thinking, maybe those two things are linked. Maybe the vampire thing is somehow tied into his reformation.

But I tend to lean towards building my ideas off canon (as opposed to making an AU). And if gideon was a vampire, and knew this during the events of the show, it would have come to light at some point. So, either he doesn't know he's a vampire, or he becomes one later. Becoming one later works narratively, but he's already so vampiric, with the white hair, pale skin, sunscreen, evil, etc. So I'm like, let's go with that.

So, gideon has gone his whole life without knowing he's a vampire, and without drinking blood. I'm thinking that being a vampire in this case (my gravity falls fan version of what a vampire would be) wouldn't adhere to typical vampire conventions. You don't NEED to drink blood to survive.

Here's the idea I got yesterday: after the events of weirdmageddon, gideons experience motivated him to become a better person. It was the awakening, basically. But in the subsequent years, he's still a little shit. Maybe he's in juvenile detention, or prison again. But now, he has the self awareness to know that what he's doing is wrong. This is where my ideas get a little fuzzy, so bear with me. Bud has his suspicions, and as a last resort, puts gideon on some sort of mission trip type of cross country trip, when he's in his teens. And along the way, maybe at the end, there's this secret group of vampires that open gideons eyes to what he really is.

Basically??? Without blood, gideon is very evil. He's an evil little shit. This may not be how it is for every vampire. Maybe some grow very sickly without blood, just get hungry, etc. The effects of blood deficiency vary from vampire to vampire. But Gideon becomes very unhinged. And he'd essentially been Blood Hangry for his whole life. That being said, some of it was just his personality that he needed to work through, but drinking some blood helped a LOT. Blood isn't food for him, it's more like his medication.

Once he has that discovery, he spends a long while, I'm thinking maybe even a year, just recovering from the deficiency. He's almost always drinking blood to keep up his levels, and he's very rarely seen in public to keep the vampire thing a secret. That's what these drawings were supposed to be, him in his pseudo bedridden state. This period in his life would be one big blur; mostly spent binge watching soap operas and being all cozy. In contrast to his usual suit + tie, he's dressing for max comfort: sweatpants, sweatshirt, a knit hat over his ridiculously big hair, and always wrapped in a blanket. Not sure if somehow he feels cold when drinking blood?? But for some reason, I feel like he'd always be wearing like 10 layers and laying under a heated blanket or something.

Eventually, he'd only need to drink blood about once a month for maintenance.

Character development wise - even as an adult, Gideon isn't sure if he's truly a good person. Is the blood deficient version of himself the true gideon? Or is this well adjusted man who he truly is? And there's an issue of the chicken and the egg, too. Gideon was born a vampire. Did these genes activate because he was predisposed to being evil? Or did the vampire thing happen by coincidence? Does being a vampire make him evil, or is it the other way around? He doesn't know, and he never will.

The one thing I'm not sure I like about this idea: i'm worried that I'd be writing off his villainous personality as an illness that can be cured with a thing. Obviously, it would be better if he faced that head on, and figured out how to be better. So I'm still grappling with that. But for now, this is an idea I'm entertaining. Of course, I think it would be interesting if there was a plot point where his usual source of ethically sourced human blood was compromised for a time, and he had to grapple with his personality going topsy turvy.

It's actually embarrassing how much I just wrote???? If you've made it this far, wow, I applaud you. I guess this was just my idea of having a good sunday night, writing down my silly thoughts on gideon gosh darn gleeful. Let me know your thoughts too!!!! I'd love to know if you have any ideas, or questions, or ways to strengthen this potential backstory.

[avelera]

Ok because I've given up all sanity and I'm now a "Jayce Has Been Trapped In a Time Loop" Truther, let's just quickly mention THIS ^^^ image above from the Arcane Act 3 trailer

I don't think this is from the future. I think the trailer wants you to think Jayce has come back as some fascistic force for evil hellbent on murdering innocent cult leaders like Viktor but that's the sort of thing trailers are supposed to do.

I think this image is from the past. Namely, this is one of the time loops or alternate timelines that Jayce has been in, trying to stop the Hexcore through Viktor from once again destroying an entire civilization (Piltover/Zaun in this case) just like Heimerdinger warned him it would.

One reason I think it's from the past? Jayce is younger here than we've seen him when he reemerges in 2.06.

The Jayce who emerged from the Wild Rune has more lines on his face, possibly longer hair (it's hard to tell) more scarred up lips and a whole lot less hope and determination in his eyes.

And while we're at it, has anyone noticed that Jayce's hammer and hands have red and brown smears on them? Almost like fresh blood?

Almost like he's coming from recent violence? Perhaps a battle, or another attempt to stop the Hexcore somewhere else?

If you accept my premise that the armor is from the past, not the future, then let me add one more point that it means Jayce had long-term time loops he went through. I think it also implies that he had time loops where things looked like they might go well, enough to be able to marshal an army and have armor tricked out for him. But that hope and determination is gone from his eyes now. Whatever he was wearing armor for? It didn't work.

Because all Jayce keeps repeating now is. "I won't fail." He failed the other times guys. This guy is broken. He's also exhausted.

I think the fact that a lot of time has passed for him is already implied just based on his appearance in 2.06, because of the brace on his leg, it would have needed to be fitted to him which implies more than just a quick jump in and out of a timeline. But the armor even more so requires time to be fitted and customized to him.

Throw in the fact he's visibly aged years, and I'd say Jayce has been away for quite a long time, more than just months but maybe years or even close to a decade of time spent living other lives in either other dimensions or in a loop of the timeline of the current dimension. And my suspicion is that in those time loops or other dimensions? We're going to see the emotional encounters with Viktor that didn't happen in the main timeline.

[songmingisthighs]

[5.45] boyfriend!mingi × reader (ft. ateez, esp wooyoung)

⇀ birthday surprise gone horribly wrong

⇁ now ya'll know that i watch reddit stories videos on yt a wee bit too much

genre : angst

warning : mingi is a jerk, wooyoung likes butting in, public humiliation,

wc : 2.1 k

buy me coffee ?

"This party is so great!" Your friend squealed, giving you a side hug as you grinned widely in happiness. "I know!" you let her go to face your boyfriend, "And it's all thanks to Mingi," you leaned to kiss him on the lips but he looked away last minute and took a sip of his drink, causing you to miss his lips. "Don't sweat it," Mingi said, or more likely muttered. "I got to..." he trailed off before walking away, pointing at the direction of his friends.

It was odd for him to be so... quiet with you. It was rather worrying, actually.

Just as you were about to go over to ask Mngi what was wrong, your friend pulled you aside to a corner with an amused grin on her face. "A little birdie told me your boyfriend prepared a surprise," she excitedly whispered, almost squealing. "What? What are you talking about?" you blinked confusedly. "Well, I was talking to some of the girls who wanted to go home early because they live rather far but Wooyoung insisted that they stay because, as he said it, they're going to want to," she winked. Still confused, you narrowed your eyes at her, "And... why would that be? It's probably a cake or they want to perform a Britney Spears song in which it would make sense that Wooyoung would want them to stay." Exasperatedly, your friend scoffed and punched you lightly on your shoulder, "Dude! Mingi is going to propose to you!"

Though you didn't believe her, your face went red and you immediately shot the idea down, "No way! Are you crazy? We've been dating for like 7 months, I haven't even brought up the fact that my parents wanted to meet him! I've been so panicked over all this, I'm still thinking of ways to tell him," you huffed. In that moment, you looked sideways and your eyes met with Mingi. The way he was looking at you was like a smoulder, it sent chills down your spine due to its intensity. You shot him a smile and a small wave, hoping that Mingi would reciprocate in the creative, adorable ways he usually does. But this time, he simply pursed his lips and nodded once at you before averting his gaze, rendering you slightly confused but you try to let him be, thinking that maybe he was just over-stimulated due to the crowd of people in your place. Your friend simply shrugged, "I don't know, I know people who got married after 3 months because they just KNOW they're with the one. Or because they got knocked up, I guess. But anyway, I think something serious is happening down the line and I hope everyone's ready to see it."

"Hi everyone, thank you for attending (y/n)'s surprise party!" Wooyoung's voice caught everyone's attention almost immediately, "We have another surprise so can I please ask for your attention?" "Attention whore!" Yunho jokingly yelled from the back, causing the crowd to laugh and Wooyoung to flip him off. "Anyway, as I was saying before some BITCH cut me off, I'm really happy to see so many people here and I can only assume that it's a testament to how many people love (y/n) and if you agree, let's give a round of applause to her!" and the whole room erupted into roars of claps and people whooping you, rendering you shy as you drop your head and tried to hold in your mouth-ripping grin. The attention occupied your senses so much that you didn't realize that there was one person in the room who didn't join the mass, the one person who mattered most to you.

"That being said, I'm sure (y/n) reciprocates your love for her so in a way, we can say that (y/n) loves a lot of people," Wooyoung said and if you focus on his face, you could see a slight smirk blooming, almost taunting, "And recently we found out that there is a person that (y/n) seem to love a little bit more than others." When Wooyoung turned to cue something up with Mingi helping him, you managed to let the words sink in and when it settled, you found yourself confused. What was Wooyoung talking about? The only person who could have fit such a description was Mingi but he didn't look too happy right at that moment. But the biggest shock didn't come until the TV was turned on and you saw pictures of you that you've never seen before/

Wooyoung stepped back and grinned mischievously, "Now, we see just HOW MUCH (y/n) can love a person even if that person is not her boyfriend, my dear boy Mingi." He pressed on the laptop that was connected to the TV and showed a similar picture of you sitting in front of a guy who you had been seeing quite frequently. "Now you might be wondering, who is this well-dressed man? Where were they? What's going on here? Why were they meeting up?" There were at least three more pictures of the same situation from different angles and seeing them felt like you were being splashed with cold water. "Well, I think the right question should've been 'how long did they think they could hide this shit from her own boyfriend?' right?"

People around you started whispering while glancing at you, talking about the fact that you had just been caught cheating. The happy look on your face as you hugged the guy in the picture and the way you simply found comfort in his embrace was not making the situation any better. Honestly, the situation was worse because of it, especially for Mingi who was trying his best to not look at the pictures again. When Wooyoung came to him with those pictures, he didn't want to believe that you were cheating on him, someone as sweet as you, someone who had openly and verbally appreciated and loved him and even made a promise not to hurt him. That was a week ago and Mingi had had half a mind to cancel the birthday surprise party he had meticulously planned for you (it was mostly Yunho and Jongho because had it been left completely to Mingi, the party would just be two pizzas and some beer with streamers as decoration), but Wooyoung had another idea that he thought would be MUCH better. Wooyoung was looking proud of himself for revealing that while Mingi was glaring at you, looking visibly angry with the way he was breathing heavily. "Well, do you have anything to say to your BOYFRIEND, (y/n)?"

Your brain was on the verge of collapsing due to information rushing into your brain all at once, not knowing which, who, or where to address first.

It was then that the front door opened and closed and you heard people gasping in surprise.

How can they not? The guy in the picture in front of them was standing there with a gift in hand.

"What's going on?" he asked, confused, looking around at the people staring, pointing at him.

His voice seem to broke you out of your trance and your eyes immediately watered. Tears of embarrassment started pouring out of your eyes as you looked up at him.

"Seonghwa," you choked out, calling for him.

Seeing you in such a state, Seonghwa's eyes widened and he dropped the gift in panic, "(y/n), what's wrong? What happened?" Seonghwa was about to step forward to you when Wooyoung scoffed, "Of course he's here to hide in plain sight, throwing off people because who would imagine the accomplice to be together so blatantly, right?" Some people laughed at Wooyoung's jab and it was at that moment you completely broke and your dashed to your room. Once your door slammed shut, your best friend stepped up and pushed Wooyoung harshly, sending him reeling a few steps back. "What the fuck is wrong with you!?" she screamed, "Why would you make a spectacle like this!?" Wooyoung huffed and regained his composure, but Mingi shot back at her, "Are you seriously condoning her action? She betrayed me and you think attacking Wooyoung is okay? It's bad enough she broke my trust, she HAD to have him here too?" Mingi spat as he jabbed his thumb at Seonghwa's direction.

Seonghwa's eyebrows furrowed, "Excuse me?" Mingi finally stepped up and went face-to-face with Seonghwa and his 6 ft stature easily towered over Seonghwa. Despite that, Seonghwa didn't waver for a bit. "You have some nerve coming here. Don't you have some shame?" Mingi asked. Still confused, Seonghwa could only stare at Mingi in disbelief, "What are you talking about? (y/n) invited me, what do you mean I have some nerve?" "Can you blame (y/n)'s boyfriend when you were caught getting all cosy with (y/n) behind his back? What were you even trying to do anyway?" Wooyoung piped back up/

When Seonghwa averted his eyes to Wooyoung, he finally realized the picture of him hugging you on the screen. "I was congratulating her on how serious her relationship had become with her boyfriend and I was telling her that I'd have her back when she finally decided to introduce her boyfriend to her parents," he said matter-of-factly. At the mention of being introduced to your parents, Mingi's heart skipped a beat for a moment but he kept his resolve. "And which boyfriend were you talking about, Mingi or you?" Wooyoung smirked.

Almost immediately, Seonghwa's face scrunched into cringe and he reeled back as if he had just gotten hit, "Ew! I'm her cousin!"

The whole room froze, especially Mingi and Wooyoung who looked like he had just seen a ghost.

"What?" Mingi whispered, needing a confirmation.

"I'm (y/n)'s cousin. We met up because she asked me for my help to support her AND YOU when you go to meet her parents. They have been pressuring her and she thought she finally found someone she could bring home," realization dawned on Seonghwa and his initial confusion melted into disgust, "Now, I think she's wrong."

Wooyoung's eyes widened and so did Mingi's. They were left gaping like fishes out of the water, not knowing how to react as they processed the fact that they had just made themselves not only look like idiots but also assholes.

The sound of a door slamming was heard and you showed up with eyes red, cheeks wet, and bottom lip trembling. Surprisingly (to everyone and even himself), Mingi was the first one to rush to you, crouching to look you in the eyes but you simply looked to the side, avoiding his gaze. "Baby, are you okay? I-I'm- I- Can we talk?" It was practically pathetic that Mingi switched his demeanour so quickly, but it was the first thing that he could think of.

"Get me out of here," you croaked, the brokenness of your voice tugged the strings of Mingi's heart as the guilt of what he did started to accumulate. "You wanna get out of here? Okay, we can do it, I'll get you out. Where do you want to go to? I-I can find somewhere or do you somewhere in mind already? I know it's just-" "Seonghwa," You cut him off, ignoring him as you looked up straight to your cousin, "Please get me out of here."

You didn't have to say twice before Seonghwa rushed to you, pushing Mingi out of the way (obviously intentionally) to get you out. When you walked past him, Mingi finally saw the large bag you had in your hand and the sight served as concrete proof of how much he fucked up.

On your way out, Seonghwa managed to scoop the birthday present he had accidentally dropped and momentarily turned around to glare at Mingi, "I'm taking this because my favourite cousin deserves one good thing now after what you did and you can bet I'm turning this day around for her," he hissed before finally leaving with you who couldn't even spare one last glance at anyone else and no one could blame you.

Silence hung in the air for two minutes before guests started trickling out, muttering shit excuses like having a curfew or needing to relieve their cat-sitter until there were just your friends and Mingi's inside. Your friend glared at Mingi and Wooyoung with so much disgust, they might as well have been chin-deep in a vat of butcher scraps mixed with manure. "I hope you're fucking happy doing this on her birthday you sick fucks," she spat before turning and leaving, the other people in your friend group joining. After they all left, Yunho and Jongho stayed back, looking at their friends in disbelief because they never thought their friends could pull something like that.

"You couldn't have asked her first or gather more evidence?" Jongho asked, scoffing. Wooyoung flipped him off while Mingi let out a sharp exhale as he slid down the wall behind him, "Shut up man," he halfheartedly muttered.

Served him right.

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[luvrrszn]

home is wherever you are

JAKE "HANGMAN" SERESIN x FEM READER

summary running into your ex leads to second thoughts and second chances

warnings angst, fluff, erm idk swearing ??

a/n guys...i miss my ex...it's taking ALL my self control rn to not text him and ask if we can run it back...

masterlist

You'd long since convinced yourself that the past was just that—past. The months that followed the breakup with Jake Seresin had forced you to move forward, to stop replaying the same arguments in your head, to stop wondering if things might have gone differently. You’d started rebuilding your life, finding comfort in new routines, new faces. But then there he was.

Jake Seresin.

Not just any wedding guest—his presence feels like a cruel reminder of everything you thought you’d moved on from. His cocky smile hasn’t changed, but there’s something about the way he looks at you now that stops your heart for a moment. The hunger in his eyes is familiar, but the uncertainty and hesitation are foreign and somewhat heartbreaking.

You knew he would be there, you just didn't think it would be this painful seeing him.

You still remembered the night you broke up, clear as day.

—

You've been sitting in silence for the past fifteen minutes, the weight of your thoughts weighing heavy on your chest. Jake leans against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. He looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here, and you hate him a little for it.

"I don't think you understand what I'm saying. You're never here. I barely see you." You finally break the silence, voice dripping with exasperation and exhaustion.

"Well, I'm here now." Jake's bored expression causes your anger to bubble over.

"Yeah, but you're never fully present. Even now, when we're arguing! You're always 'too busy' for anything that matters, and I've been more than understanding! Is that how you truly see me? Something that you can put off until you finish doing whatever you deem is more important?"

His expression hardens, jaw tensing. He grits out, "You knew what I was when we started this. You knew what being with me meant."

"I didn't think being with you would mean always being the second fucking choice. If I'd known, we wouldn't be in this situation right now." You retort harshly.

Eventually, your expression softens. But you're not caving. You say, "I can't do this anymore, Jake. I can't keep waiting around until you're ready for more. Maybe when you're ready, we can try again. I'll come for my things tomorrow."

His eyes search your face for any indication that this is just a cruel prank you're playing on him. You're not actually breaking up with him���right?

You stand up, grabbing your keys on the way out. He follows you like a lost puppy as you walk down the hallway and put on your coat and shoes. He watches as you leave, a numb ache in his chest as he sees the front door close behind you.

—

You push the memories of that night out of your head.

There's no use dwelling in the past, you tell yourself.

But damn, did he look good in that suit, hair tousled, sporting his signature cocky grin. You force yourself to look away, but not before he catches you staring.

Through the corner of your eye, you see Bradley and Jake make their way over to you. You beam at Bradley, saying, "Hi, Roos. Long time no see."

Jake watches as you and Bradley make conversation.

The way you don't look at Jake once doesn't go unnoticed by him.

The way your whole body is tense, your demeanour guarded, doesn't go unnoticed either.

And he's absolutely crushed to see how distant you've become.

Your genuine smile when talking to Bradley turns into a polite, forced one when you turn to talk to Jake, and it's like you're stabbing him in the heart and twisting the knife.

And that makes him even more desperate for a chance to fix things.

Eventually, Bradley wanders off to talk to other mutual friends, and the small talk between you and Jake gets to a point where it's painfully obvious that you're both struggling to keep up.

"It was nice to see you, Jake. Have a good night." You finally decide to leave, standing on your tiptoes to press the lightest kiss to Jake's cheek before disappearing into the crowd.

He wants to follow you, but the dance floor is just too crowded.

So he just spends the rest of the night searching for you in the crowd.

—

He finally corners you on the balcony.

It's getting late, guests are tipsy and dancing. You needed a breather so you went out onto the balcony, not expecting to have Jake follow you out.

Jake’s footsteps are heavy behind you as you step onto the balcony, the cool night air biting at your skin. You didn’t want to face him right now, not with everything that’s been left unsaid between you. But the sound of his voice, sharp and urgent, breaks through your thoughts.

"Wait."

You stop, but you don't turn around. You can't face him. Not like this, not now.

"Don't do this," he says, his voice softer now, but you can hear the edge of panic. "I can’t let you walk away like this."

You finally turn, but only slightly, enough to see the way he's standing there, jaw clenched, eyes searching you like you're a puzzle he's trying to solve.

"I don’t know what you want me to say, Jake," you reply, the frustration thick in your voice. "You say you’re sorry, but it’s never enough. You show up for everyone in your squad, Mav, Penny, but when it comes to me, I’m always an afterthought."

"Please, babe, let me just try. Give me another chance. Let's try this again. I'll be better, just, please." Jake's expression is pleading, desperate. You rarely see him like this.

The genuine remorse in his eyes is enough for you to sigh and cave, nodding a soft yes.

He immediately rushes forward, pulling you into a hug. You'd forgotten what it felt like, having your bodies fit together like two puzzle pieces. You bury your face in his chest, one of his hands resting on the small of your back, the other tangled in your hair.

The two of you stood there for a good ten minutes, Jake holding you while the cool night air caressed your face.

—

In the weeks that follow, Jake makes a conscious effort to show you that he's able to balance his priorities.

He hangs out less at the Hard Deck, spending more time with you instead.

He turns down a high-profile assignment which would've required him to be away from home—away from you.

He makes sure to have dinner with you as much as he can, and he brings you 'just because' flowers every Sunday.

And you're touched, of course, but there's still a part of you that holds doubt. You're not sure if this change in behaviour is merely temporary, or if Jake is willing to make permanent changes in order to work towards building a life together.

—

It's a cozy Friday night in.

You and Jake are lying in bed, his arm around you as you rest on his chest. He traces circles on your arm while you listen to the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath. The both of you aren't doing anything, just enjoying each other's presence.

There’s a stillness in the air between you—neither of you feeling the need to fill the silence with words. Just being together feels like enough, and for the first time in a long while, everything feels right.

You breathe in deeply, letting the warmth of his presence settle around you. There’s no rush. No pressure. Just the quiet comfort of being close to each other, as if the world outside doesn’t matter for a while.

Then Jake speaks, his voice low and a little hesitant, as if testing the waters. "You know... I always thought flying was my home."

You look up at him, meeting his eyes, but he’s not looking at you. His gaze is focused on the ceiling, his thumb still tracing soft patterns on your skin. There’s something in his tone that makes your heart skip.

He continues, quieter now, as though confessing something he’s been holding back. "Flying’s always been my home, my dream... but I’ve learned it doesn’t mean a damn thing if you’re not part of it." He pauses for a beat, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re my home now. Home is wherever you are. Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be."

You feel his arm tighten slightly around you, as if he’s afraid of losing you in that moment, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you lift your head slightly, catching his gaze. "Jake…" you begin, your voice softer than you expect, the words feeling fragile as they leave your lips.

"I’m not going anywhere," he adds quickly, as if reading your thoughts. "I just need you to know that. I’m not asking you to give up anything. I’m just... I’m asking you to be with me. Wherever we go, whatever we do. Together."

You realise that Jake is actually serious about this. Serious about trying to work towards building a life together, in which you feel treasured and prioritised.

You realise how hard he's trying.

"Together." You echo, just like a promise.

[our-hextech-dream]

i haven't seen anyone fully articulate what i personally felt disappointed by wrt viktor's s2 persona and ending so i guess i have to do it myself even tho i'm bad at talking!! can someone who is better at this just read my mind and say it fancier and more coherently?

agency, the loss of

i have seen people already mention the way disability came into play at the end and what a wild choice it was for jayce - born able-bodied and healthy - to be the one to tell viktor - trapped in a body that was actively killing him - that actually your disability is a part of you and made you who you are and you owe everything to it. ... huh? jayce (by which i mean the writers), do you think without his disability, viktor wouldn't have still been a genius? yes, viktor is disabled - that's not even remotely what makes him a compelling character and power player. it is his mind not his body that makes him who he is. the fact that he had to waste almost his whole life fighting against that body to achieve anything is the entire crux of his frustration - imagine what he could have dedicated his mind to if he weren't constantly struggling to find a way just to survive another year, another month, another week, one more day. have you thought about it? because he has. so yeah that whole conversation, trash. bruno mars just the way you are ass one direction that's what makes you beautiful ass argument. viktor was not going crazy over cosmetic surgery, he was trying not to die.

but it strikes me as just one more expression of an overarching theme for s2 viktor - that of the complete and total loss of his agency. (more on a meta level than in the show itself, but also in the show!) i said after act 1 that viktor had died in that explosion and jayce was going to be chasing that corpse until the end, and i was correct. viktor bounced from one mindset to another, never seeming to have any consistent ideology of his own that couldn't be changed as soon as the plot demanded it. at any given point he was just kinda... wandering around, doing some random shit with the powers that worked through him. gone was the viktor who used his own hands and mind to influence the world directly, to bend it to his will. i always always felt this and i stand by it - taking viktor's abilities as an inventor and scientist away and turning him into some arcane mage jesus figure was a mistake and a disservice to his character. arcane said no this boy wasn't smart or determined, his ability to build and invent and seek and learn don't matter and never mattered, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and as soon as the arcane got its goop on him he just became the most specialest magic pixie dream boy to ever live and his own goals, dreams, ideals, morals, talents, skills, and hard work ceased to matter in any meaningful way. he never had to work to master magic to be able to use it to further his goals, because he immediately stopped having goals.

viktor became a non-character. he became whatever ideological and technological threat level the show needed to challenge to heroes and never more. he ceased to have any control or understanding over what was happening to him, rather he just gave up and decided to use his magic indiscriminately for whoever made the most convincing argument, a choice that would have been completely antithetical to his character up to that point if he'd still been alive. 'fuck zaunites, sure i'll turn them into robots so a foreign power can use them to attack and take over piltover and zaun, who cares. it's not like these are the people i've spent 30 years of my life trying to protect and save.' <- something viktor would never ever ever have agreed to! ever! no matter what! they have played us for absolute fools.

ambiguity, the loss of

the thing i wanted the most and was expecting because of the way viktor's original lore was set up was that the series would end with viktor and jayce unreconciled and with mutually exclusive worldviews, both fully believing they were right and the other was misguided but not evil or irredeemable, setting them up for future conflict. this felt like what was being set up when arcane made it a plot point that jayce was being convinced to turn hextech into weapons while viktor started getting unethical and unhinged with the experimentation. they both had good reasons to do what they did - and i'm absolutely not going to insult jayce's intelligence by claiming he was just manipulated into it by anyone, give me a fucking break - but the point was that both of them were doing something the other thought was misguided and dangerous. and they also felt that if they could just make the other person see their completely logical and rational pov, they could fix the divide between them and make up and be best science buddies again.

but then at the end arcane completely gave up on viktor having any belief in his own ideals. it just turned into 'aw actually he was just lonely all along and none of that science stuff or difference in morals or worldviews mattered bc he's got a buddy now and he's completely unequivocally on jayce's side. :)'

it was like. insanely selfish. as in, self-centered, concerned *only* with the self. the viktor i liked, and the one i wanted to flourish and hoped arcane would canonize, was someone who was entirely dedicated to zaun, to righting the wrongs of piltover and helping the people in the way he thought best - no matter what jayce or piltover thought about it. an ambiguous villain, just like all the other really well-written ones in arcane.

accountability, the loss of

viktor killed people. not sky, who was an accident despite his fixation on her; i'm talking at least a hundred or more zaunites during his stint as the machine herald. he ripped their minds out and made them play house with him, then turned them into weapons of war for ambessa's siege, and all of those people - primarily sick, desperate zaunites - died. this was always the entire crux of the conflict between (league) viktor and jayce giopara. viktor was willing to destroy people and use their bodies for his own gain unapologetically because he thought what he was doing was a blessing and the people were better off under his control because they would never feel fear or anger again. agree, disagree, depends on your view of free will and human nature, but the fact is that everyone who came to viktor hoping for a chance to be healed so they could pursue their own dreams and lives had those dreams and lives ripped away from them and they never got justice or even a single scrap of acknowledgement from the narrative.

in arcane, the horror of viktor's actions just... fade away into the background. viktor and jayce waltz off into magicspace together, leaving viktor's dead, ruined victims for piltover and zaun to deal with. he doesn't return their minds or bodies, he doesn't even seem to remember or care about what he had just been doing to other sentient living human beings. he's not sorry, he doesn't feel regret, he got what he wanted (a friend) and fuck everybody else.

because the narrative just shrugs and handwaves and says no no forget all that it doesn't matter it was just the hexcore or whatever, viktor becomes a flat, uninteresting character. he loses the depth that villains like ambessa and silco had, villains who had their victims validated by the story, who faced challenges in their arcs specifically because of the people they had hurt despite thinking they were doing the right or noble or most important thing. and not just the villains! even the heroes had to wrestle with the people they stepped on on the way to their lofty goals. but not viktor. he just floats away scot free, completely blameless, having no affect on the world and the world having no affect on him.

on arcane's status as the new canon lore and the Implications™

reminder that arcane is somehow supposed to tie into the world of runeterra at large, but now viktor and jayce both have been seemingly entirely removed from it. if it only mattered that they knew the people we'd already seen them interact with, okay, i guess. but that isn't the case. they both have a ton of connections to other champions - from regions other than p&z even - that haven't been introduced and don't have any plausible explanation for how they could have met in the past, which means they should have been set up to meet somehow in the future. implying that jinx escaped and has gone traveling the world is the perfect way to incorporate her in-game relationships with people like lux - she could have met her while traveling! but jayce and viktor don't get that plausible continuation of their story and development of further relationships - they just disappear out of existence. (ambessa also has this problem because they killed her, but unlike jayce and viktor she does have a huge amount of unexplored backstory where she could have spoken to (for example) swain and hwei and shyvanna at some point.)

note 1 - jayce and viktor are so old that they don't have any voice lines in game when meeting other champions. but other champions who are either newer or who have had voiceover updates do talk to them, which is how (aside from the old lore) you can infer that they do have relationships with other champions including ones who weren't in arcane.

note 2 - maybe riot actually doesn't care and none of the champions are really supposed to know each other or be involved in each others' lives canonically, they just have random quippy voice lines that imply that. which would fucking suck. having the lore of the game have no impact on the game itself and vice versa would objectively suck. if the characters talk to each other on the rift and say something interesting, i want that to have meaning. i want to be able to extrapolate the state of the world and the relationships between the characters from the things they verbally say with their mouths. i'm not arguing about this. the voicelines should be seen as the most high irrefutable canon that there is for the game because it is the ONLY source of lore in the game itself.

anyways there's my bible i guess. i miss evil laser robot viktor i want him to perform unethical brain surgery on me (fixing my adhd but also turning me into his personal puppet attack dog) and then give a weapon to a child so they can kill their bullies.

[yanderedrabbles]

Misery - Part Two

Based on Misery by Stephen King

Stuck in the mountains, you foolishly decide to drive through a blizzard. The man that drags you from your wrecked car brings you to his cabin and patches you up. But as the snow piles up outside, you start to suspect that your rescuer's intentions may be far from pure.

Previous Chapter

The thing that brought you straight from unconsciousness and howling into the world of the living was your shoulder. In the bleary haze after you crashed, you were hurting in so many places that you couldn't have focused on an individual ache even if you tried.

It wasn't until the stranger popped your arm back into place that you realised it was dislocated at all.

You woke up with your shoulder and upper back a sharp, aching mess. You also woke up screaming.

"Easy, easy there ma'am. Hush now, you can take it."

The stranger's thick drawl was right next to your ear and you turned your head to find his hands on your upper arm.

You groaned. "I'm suffering enough without being insulted."

You tried to sit up and a host of new pains made themselves very known. You slumped back with a small gasp.

"I may look rough, but I am nowhere near old enough to be a ma'am, thank you very much."

To your surprise, he laughed. And if you weren't becoming intimately aware of your pain tolerance, you would have realised what a nice laugh he had.

"Hell, if you're this lively after I gave you morphine, I'm terrified to find you sober."

The man next to you was slowly taking shape out of the halos of light that streaked your vision. Grey eyes, that was the first thing you noticed. A kind of gunmetal grey that you would have found frightening if he hadn't been smiling.

"Oh, I've never had morphine before."

If you were hurting this much after getting doped up on pain meds, a part of you was terrified about them wearing off. A smaller part of you worried terribly about how much he'd given you. The rest of you however, was succumbing to the deep sleep that banged up bodies seem to demand.

Dimly you realised the stranger had stood up and was about to walk away. You thought of your car in the snow and your body hunched over the steering wheel, blood dripping little by little onto the floorboards.

Your hand shot out with a speed you didn't think yourself capable of and grabbed his wrist. The stranger stilled and looked down at you. Tall, that was the second thing you noticed.

"Please don't leave me."

You were falling asleep against your will and your voice was cracked with pain.

He wavered and then slowly sat down in the chair next to your bed.

"Alright then, I'll be right here. So you go on back to sleep."

Kind, that was the third thing you noticed about him.

As you fell asleep, your fingers stayed wrapped around his wrist. In that isolated cabin, with the wind driving snow down the chimney and rattling the hastily put up winter shutters, former USMC Corporal Andrew Wilkes smiled for the first time in six months.

......

Waking up the second time was much slower and a whole lot less painful.

You opened your eyes to the watery light of early morning. A thousand different aches called for your attention. To start with, your left leg was a throbbing mass of low grade suffering. Everything below the knee felt stiff and bruised. No, sharper than just bruising. You would have to take a look for yourself later.

Your ribs felt tender, like you'd gone head to head with a kickboxer who harboured a very personal grudge.

Your shoulder however, was a thousand times better than last night.

You sat up slowly, the sheets rustling quietly. Your mind felt slow and groggy - it must have been the after effects of the morphine. You heard a quiet groan and froze.

The stranger was asleep on the armchair next to you, his upper body resting on the bed. You still had your hand clasped loosely around his wrist but at some point in the night he'd shifted and now his other hand was draped over yours.

His hands were nicked with a collection of little scars and his palms felt calloused with work, but they were warm and you found yourself comforted by that.

He was handsome too, with thick blond hair and a five o'clock shadow on his jaw. A raised scar carved a crescent on his cheekbone and without realising it, you reached out to touch it.

Your fingers must have been warm because he smiled just a little before he opened his eyes.

"Mornin' ma'am."

Was his voice always so deep or was it just sleep? You pulled your fingers away from his face with a jerk.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

He sat up slowly, rubbing his jaw with his free hand. You noticed he was wearing a courdroy jacket lined with sheepskin. For some reason, you thought it suited him perfectly.

"Ain't a bother. Besides, I'd be a damn shitty medic if I slept longer than my patient."

There was a faint clinking sound and you realised he was wearing a pair of dog tags on a chain around his neck.

"I'm Andy, by the way. Andy Wilkes."

You smiled. It felt strange to just now be learning his name, after you'd spent all night clutching onto his wrist.

"Y/N."

You cleared your throat, suddenly awkward despite your drowsiness.

"Thank you, for saving me. I would have died in the snow if you hadn't rescued me."

You looked into his eyes and then quickly away. Something about that gunmetal gray made you shiver.

"I owe you my life."

He was thoughtful for a moment.

"It was pure fate that I even saw your car way down in the trees. And good luck that I know enough first aid to fix you up."

He shrugged. "It ain't me you should be thanking."

"Still, others might not have stopped for a stranger."

He raised a brow and glanced down at the hand you still had clasped around his wrist. "How about you let me go and we call it even?"

Were you blushing? It sure felt like it, with the way your cheeks suddenly tingled. You let go like he was made of lava.

"Right. Um...Sorry about that."

He shot you a small smile. "Don't be. It was...nice."

He stood up and your half unconscious observation had been right - he really was tall. He was wearing Levi's and a pair of cowboy boots. There was a dark stain down his left leg and with a start you realised it was your blood. He hadn't even changed since bringing you here.

"You were banged up pretty bad. You should have some breakfast and then I can give you more pain medication."

You nodded eagerly. Your pain had faded a little when you spoke to him but it still throbbed throughout your body.

"And uhh..." He looked away from you and rubbed at his jaw. "I'll give you some clothes to change into."

He brought you a flannel shirt and a pair of sweatpants you felt sure to drown in. He set them on your nightstand and dragged open his first aid kit.

You raised a brow at the size of the thing. In addition to the regular bandages and disinfectant, he carried hypodermic needles, sutures and a whole host of injectable ampules. Is this how he had access to morphine?

"I used to be a medic, back when I was in the Marines." He smiled at you properly for the first time. "You're in good hands, I promise."

He put his fingers under your jaw and tilted your face towards him. You flinched as peeled back the gauze above your eyebrow.

"Let's get a good look at you - how are you feeling?"

You tried to smile and couldn't find the energy.

"It hurts."

"I'd be surprised if it didn't. This cut up here was pretty bad. You were bleedin' like crazy."

He dipped a cloth into a murky white antibacterial liquid and dabbed gently at the cut. He was close enough that you could see the pulse that beat in his neck.

"I've given you a few stitches up here. They seem to be holding fine."

"Stitches? Do you think it'll scar?"

He paused. "Maybe. But you're pretty enough that a little scar ain't gonna make a difference."

Okay, this time you were definitely blushing.

He bandaged you up again and his hands trailed down to your shoulders. From the look of him, you'd expect him to have a heavy touch, but he was careful and gentle.

"Shrug, maybe move around a bit."

You managed it, despite some stiffness.

"Good. We'll need to focus on working your shoulder a little everyday. Keep you limber as the swelling goes down."

"Yes, sir."

He tensed up for just a second before he continued.

"Any bruising or cuts you think I might have missed?"

"My ribs are hurting something awful."

"Lay down."

Good god, was he a natural at giving commands. You found yourself on your back without really realizing you moved. He lifted your shirt up and you flinched at the feeling of his hands on the soft skin of your belly.

"Take a deep breath for me."

You managed it without too much of a struggle.

"Good. Looks like it's just some bruising."

You noticed the lace of your bra peaking out from under your shirt at about the same time he did. He pulled his palm away from your waist like you scalded him and yanked down your shirt with none of the clinical professionalism with which be raised it.

He cleared his throat. "It's your leg I'm worried about."

He turned away from you to bend over your right foot, but not before you caught the redness creeping across his cheeks.

Your jeans were cut open to the knee and your ankle was a bulging monstrosity wrapped in layers and layers of bandages. He kept one hand wrapped around your calf as he worked and when you flinched away, he just tightened his grip and continued.

"It looks like a very nasty sprain. Grade 2 at least. Might take a few months to heal totally. For now though, you absolutely cannot walk on it."

He looked up at you as though to emphasise his point. "Any activity for the next few weeks will just set your healing back. Not to mention hurt like a bitch."

He sounded so mean when he swore that you dropped your eyes.

He straightened up. "From the look of things, I reckon you've bruised some of the bones in your calf too. So just keep off this leg."

"Ummm." You felt stupidly bashful with his hand still on your leg. "How am I supposed to move around?"

"Hmm. I might have an old crutch lying around here somewhere. If not, I'll just have to carry you."

He said it so damn casually, as if picking you up was the easiest thing in the world. You remembered how easily he got you out of your car and realised that to him, carrying you was just as easy as hauling wood or slinging a ruck on a march. Hell, easier maybe.

You were just a little afraid of his strength.

He nodded to the clothes he left beside you. "You try and change and I'll go and get your breakfast ready."

It was only after he'd closed the door behind him that you realised - he hadn't said anything about taking you to a hospital.

Next Chapter

Masterlist

[xhoneygirlxx]

he's not magic

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: the time of the month has come and Eddie is the only person who can sooth you.

warnings: talks about menstrual cycles/blood. mentions of dying. tooth rotting fluff. Eddie is a cutie pie. pet names used; sweetheart, baby, honey. shitty writing/spelling errors; if you find any plz ignore it lolololololol.

a/n: i'm currently in so much pain from my period and the only thing i want is for someone to coddle me and tell me i'm going to be ok. i hope you guys enjoy this very small thing, it's not much and it's not good but maybe it'll help you feel good on those days when life is shit. love you all <3

--

You're dying, a slow, painful, and mournful death. At this point you stopped caring, stopping all the begging you've done all morning for your life to continue. If this was how you were going out than so be it, you just wished your end had come faster.

You've already bled through two pairs of panties and two pairs of shorts, now left in your trusty period panties and an oversized shirt. Your stomach was bloated to the point it was uncomfortable, your breasts were so swollen that your chest felt like it was going to concave under the weight, and your back felt as if it was going to snap in half at any moment.

It felt like you tried everything, ibuprofen, heating pad, and propping a pillow in between your legs - none of the tricks worked. Now you were left in the fetal position, arms wrapped around your middle and knees pulled to your chest.

For the past how ever many hours you've been moaning out in pain, the stabbing feeling in your uterus just too much to handle. You're sure if someone were to walk in and see you they'd think you were insane and right now you couldn't blame them.

You did look insane, hair wild and matted to your face from all the sweat you've accumulated, voice hoarse and scratchy from all the wounded animal sounds you've made, and your face screwed up in an unflattering way.

Your phone has gone unanswered all day, the only person to have texted you was Eddie. At first it was only tik toks, small comments he thought would make you giggle, and then it turned into him updating you about his day at work, and finally worried questions about if you were okay.

You felt so fucking guilty for not responding, not telling him that you were fine but you just physically couldn't move from your crouched position. This only made you angrier, the fact that your temporarily paralyzed and are restricted from doing the things you need to do.

The fridge sits empty and in need of new groceries, laundry stays piled up by the washer where they wait to be cleaned, and Eddie is waiting for your response worrying about your well being - that is if he hasn't already contacted the national guard to track your location.

Everything is so shitty, the pain, the hurting, the guilt, the frustration. You feel like you're a balloon that's been filled up too much and is waiting to burst at the seams.

You don't have to take long before the heated tears from your eyes fall down, hitting the bridge of your nose, only to land on the pillow beneath your head. It's not a violent cry, at least not yet, just frustrated tears that seem to slip away from their barricade.

You don't even notice the front door of your apartment opening or the sound of Eddie calling for your name, only focusing on the pulsating of your uterus that debilitates your body.

"Fuck, baby I've been worried about you," You don't even turn and look at him, your eyes are still harshly closed. By the sound of his voice you know he's out of breath, brown curls probably wild from the speed of his running.

"Shit, sweetheart, are you okay?" The worry in his voice hits right on the spiderweb crack, shattering you into a million little pieces.

You can't hold it back, the wailing that rips from your throat is something close to bone chilling. Tears streams from your eyes without relent, whole body shaking from the cries that rip from your body.

It doesn't take more than thirty seconds to feel the bed dip as your boyfriend crawls into bed next to you. He doesn't think twice before pulling you in, one arm wrapped around your back and the other soothing down your hair on the side of your head.

"It's okay, baby. M'here, you're okay." Eddie coos and it's like music to your ears.

The warmth from his body fills you in a way your heating pad couldn't. Even with the mucus that fills your nose you catch a whiff of his scent, smoke, pine, and outside -undoubtedly him. His calloused hand runs soothingly up and down your back, allowing your bones to relax into his touch.

Eddie doesn't have to ask, he knows you better than you know yourself, and the way your scrunched up on your bed and crying he knows that you've been battling your pain all day.

"Sweetheart, you have to breath. Can you do that for me? Take one big deep breath, s'all I want, okay?"

You nod your head against his chest, following the way his chest moves as he demonstrates for you. Between hiccupped breaths and streaming tears, you allow your lungs to fill up with as much air as you can take in, releasing it right after in one long exhale.

"Good job, baby. Did such a good job f'me." Eddie's being soft with you, a side of him he only allows you to see and no one else.

You let his praise melt over you, soaking it right up like the plants in a drought. For the first time since you woke up you feel lighter, something you only feel when Eddie's by you. The cramps that have been going nonstop have finally subsided, the presence of your boyfriend scaring them away.

"It hurt so bad, Eds. S'really bad today." Your voice is shaky, as if one wrong move and you can break out into another sob.

"I know, honey, but it's okay. I'm gonna take care of you, kay? I'm gonna make it all better."

You both know that he has no control over what your body decides to do but just the promise alone has your worries easing away. Your body relaxes into him, your knees slowly falling down to their normal position until your laying right up against him.

"On a scale from one to ten, where are you at?" You take a moment to think about it, really evaluating the squeezing of your organs.

"Was a ten but now it's like a seven."

Eddie hums, his hand still soothing up and down your back. A small pause settles over his words, like he's trying to wrack his brain for the next action he's going to make so you can feel better.

"How 'bout you get some rest, then when you get up we'll get you something to eat? Sound okay?" You nod again, too tired to form any sort of response.

Eddie acknowledges your response with a kiss to the top of your head, making you hum in content when he does. It doesn't take long for the tiredness of your body to settle over you, quiet snores coming from your nose in no time.

Even if his arms fall asleep and his back feels stiff, Eddie stays there with you, soothing you in your sleep to ensure that your pain stays at bay. When you do wake up he's right there, waiting for you with some water and more medicine before helping you into the shower.

He's not magic and he has no idea what to do when it comes to woman's health but Eddie Munson will be damned if a period makes his girl cry like that again.

---

[seraphinitegames]

Hey, Mishka!!!

I've been replaying TWC over the last couple of months, and must say, it's been an entirely rejuvenating experience for me. Like, I was reading it the first time, although I've replayed the series quite too many (worrying number) of times already. And it still manages to amaze me, EVERY SINGLE TIME.

I've repeated this in the past, and I'll repeat it again. The Wayhaven Chronicles is a blessing for me and I'm sincerely thankful to have come across it when I did. And I'm grateful to you for making this lovely world a reality (and of course, the four beautiful vamps)! Really eager for Book 4 and have already player the demo; can say it's gonna be worth the wait. It every time is.

Replaying the series in the last few months, I had a certain uncontrollable urge to drop and ask a few questions to you. Apologize in advance for the long ask and message, but it had been bottling up inside of me for SOOOOOO LONG.

1. In Book 1, when we're to lead the investigation in one of the three directions, is there any way to get success in any direction without Bobby making a big joke out of our investigation in the newspaper?

2. In Book 2, when Nicole and Max Salinas come to report their incident, can Tina actually find out anything unusual? If so, what is actually needed to explain that?

3. In Book 3, I noticed if we choose to go the final mission alone, depending on the route chosen, Boddy/Doug will end up tagging along as well, jeopardizing everything. Is there still a way to complete the mission successfully and rescuing everyone like it happens when we go along with Rebecca?

4. Less of a question, but more of a plea. Please tell me we can get a pet anytime in the series. I was just curious if we can get one.

5. How powerful is the big baddie in Book 4 compared to Unit Bravo? You don't need to answer if this verges on spoiler-y territory.

Really sorry to overwhelm you with this, but it's just months and months of joy, happiness, and sheer ecstasy making me blabber on about this world like this. Thanks once again, for making this truly beautiful story, world, and the vampires a reality.

Have a good day!!!! Lots of love from India!!

You can never play a game you love too many times (I keep telling myself that as I gradually burn a hole into my poor old console playing Dragon Age over and over, lol!)! If it brings you happiness, then that's what is important! :D

Ok, let's see about the questions...it's been a whole since I've gone through the older games without being in editing mode, hehe!

I don't think so...Bobby is, well, Bobby. And that scene was there very much to establish their character and show the player what type of person they are.

I don't think so, again. If there's anything unusual or odd, then I usually like to let the MC find that instead of it happening 'off-screen' so it's more impactful for the player—unless it's Verda discovering stuff, because that needs to happen for…reasons.

Iirc, in the Bobby/Doug routes, you get the auction scene, so a lot of that branch involves focusing on saving yourself! But the other team that joins Unit Bravo will help in saving a lot of the captives in that version.

I would love that being a massive animal companion fan myself, hehe! But likely not, just because the MC is away a lot from home, and that's unfair on the pet, even a fictional one, lol. I was tempted to give the MC a supernatural pet that hung around at the facility—that was definitely a strong idea at one point just so I could write a pet in the series for those that wanted it (me, I was the one who wanted it, hehe!) :D

**BOOK FOUR DEMO SPOILERS AHEAD** It's not just that Book Four's villain is terrifyingly powerful (or will be. They are, thankfully for the MC and UB, in a weakened state for a while due to what's happened to them and what happened in Chapter Two) but it's a lot to do with the fact that their power specifically counteracts and weakens Unit Bravo's. So that's a double whammy!

Thank you SO incredibly much for the amazing message! It means more than you can know <3

[motziedapul]

I enjoy quite a few YouTubers and Twitch streamers, and these are the ones I've followed that have spoken up about Palestine:

Hasan Piker is a Twitch streamer and political pundit who has been covering Gaza and raising money for medical aid for Palestine since Day 1. He raised a million US dollars divided among these orgs all the way back in October and has not stopped centering Palestinian voices since then. Of all Western influencers, he's the biggest voice in raising awareness and support for the people in Gaza and Palestine as a whole.

Thomas "Tomska" Ridgewell (of ASDFmovie fame) called his MP in the UK to call for a ceasefire months ago. Though it may seem like a comparatively small act, I highlight it because he did it very early on, and publicly called for a ceasefire in a video in November.

"I'm not neutral because my country is standing in support of one side of it [...] For all I know my taxes, my money is being spent on the bombs that are being dropped on the people in Gaza. So I'm not neutral. For all I know I'm entirely complicit [...] It just feels like we're being told to look away, [...] close your eyes and stick your fingers in your ears and when you turn back the situation won't be complicated anymore because Gaza will be gone."

His full statement is at the end of his video "Last Month I Said Goodbye" if you're interested.

More recently:

Now I don't follow Dan & Phil, but I strongly believe that them raising money for the PCRF was a tipping point for certain other creators finally going public with their own pushes for relief in Gaza. And maybe it's just a coincidence, but nonetheless it's a big deal.

Jacksepticeye quietly donated $10000 to a fan-run relief effort that would divide proceeds between the PCRF and E-Sims for Gaza. When the fan announced it, he then went on to publicly post about the horrors of Gaza and retweeted how to provide aid and resources.

During his yearly Thankmas event, he also raised millions for the World Central Kitchen, which is currently providing food in Gaza (depending on what relief can get through the crossing being blocked by Israeli protestors).

Of the "big" YouTubers, he's always been the most candid about his beliefs, so I always liked him regardless, and his actions have been heartening but thankfully not surprising.

And tomorrow, Drawfee is doing a charity stream for PCRF! Support them if you can. Their previous charity stream for Pride and Trans rights raised over $108000 for the Stonewall Community Foundation in 2023.

I love Drawfee in particular. This was heartening to see today.

Anyway, I genuinely hope this pushes more creators to finally speak out. Even if it's late, it's always better late than never, and their influence is massive.

[ineffable-suffering]

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

[missmeinyourbones]

DRANK DRY THE RIVER LETHE

"These days I think I owe my life

To flowers that were left here by my mother,

Ain't that like them, gifting life to you again?

- First Time, Hozier

a/n: trying baby daddy touya, brief mentions of pregnancy, reader is exhausted and dealing w some parental impostor syndrome, reader and baby are referred to as touya's girls

Touya comes home to a crying baby, something that has slowly become the new norm for him.

The fall breeze is uncomfortably chilly now that the sun has long gone down, and he can hear the familiar shrieks and hiccups before he's able to unlock and open the apartment door.

You don't hear him enter over the whines of the baby you cradle and caress in your hold. Touya's met with the back of your head and the sound of your desperate coos as he kicks off his shoes and shrugs off his jacket, making his way over to his girls. His family.

"Hey," he makes it a point to speak before letting his hand come to rest on your lower back. You'd think he'd have mastered how jumpy you are after all this time, but you flinch all the same at the sound of his voice.

He lets the warmth of his touch press up against your skin in an attempt to comfort you, but the second he's able to catch your eye, he knows it'll require a lot more than that to soothe your worries.

From your gaze alone, he can sense your panic almost immediately.

"She won't stop crying," is the first thing you say to him.

It comes out rushed and nervous, like you've been waiting for him to return home for hours. You have been, he knows to be true even though you don't say it.

He winces a bit as he takes in your appearance. You look smaller than he's ever remembered, and perhaps there's a truth to that old saying about not noticing something as it happens right before you, until it's already too late.

Your eyes are dark with exhaustion, his t-shirt swallowing you whole is covered with what he knows to be stains of vomit and spit-up. Your body doesn't stop moving, heels don't stop bouncing softly back and forth as you attempt to soothe your daughter in any way possible.

He doesn't ask how long you've been at this.

The haste returns when you continue, "She's not hungry, I've changed her three times, her temperature is normal, and I hate that I even checked her temperature more than once because she fucking hates it and--"

A calloused palm finds your head, gently brushing the tousled hair behind your ear and trying to rub the tension from behind your neck.

"Hey, hey. Easy."

He tries to console you. His tone is a bit cautious, like he's trying to slowly approach a wild and contaminated animal, but it comforts you all the same.

His heart hurts as he watches you take a shaky inhale, holding it for a brief moment before exhaling it just as uneasily. You're drained.

If this was three months ago, he'd instantly grab your wrist--force you to lay on top of him in bed until you inevitably pass out and succumb to your own exhaustion.

But things are different now, and he's not just in charge of you anymore. He has two girls to take care of, one being a lot more helpless than the other who needs him just as badly right now.

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong," you weakly admit through the tears that sit heavy in the back of your throat.

Nothing, Touya wants to say. He doesn't even think you're capable of doing something that isn't right, but he's self-aware enough to bite his tongue and focus on the task at hand.

His eyes fall to where the bundle of baby still shrieks and sobs against your arms. He slowly reaches to rub a soft finger against her puffy cheek before sighing to himself.

"Don't babies cry for no reason sometimes?" he mumbles.

"She doesn't cry like this for you."

He knows it's the fatigue behind your bite, so he chooses to ignore the harsh comparison.

"Yeah, she does, baby," he calmly breathes. "You're just tired."

Wordlessly, he motions for you to hand your daughter to him, and the pass happens naturally for all three of you. She leaves your arms and enters his without so much of a struggle. And you can't shake the failure that weighs heavy on your shoulders as you watch him gently bounce the baby on his hip, her cries almost immediately softening by being in his mere presence.

It takes all of thirty seconds before she's practically silent, resting on his chest and babbling herself into a calm drowsiness. His hand cradles the back of her head gently, mimicking how it did yours mere moments ago.

The scene before you is all you've ever wanted, and it's finally yours. And you absolutely hate that you feel a sob of exhaustion wrack through your chest, ruining a moment you never thought you'd have.

Touya watches you shrink before him, your eyes on the peaceful scene before you as you choke out a teary, "She hates me."

"Bullshit, c'mere."

He readjusts your baby so she's comfortably supported with one arm, using the other to snake around your shoulders and pull you in with them. You feel his hand flat against your sore back, rubbing gentle circles and pressing you into his warmth.

The three of you stand huddled together, all clinging onto one another in one way or the other. The baby in Touya's hold rests her sock-covered foot on the flat of your arm. You lean into Touya's chest, head right next to your daughter's as he whispers sweet reassurances. You don't need to ask to know they're meant for the both of you.

After a few minutes, Touya pulls away a bit, but only to use both hands to place the baby back in her crib. The transition is easy and she's out cold as she sinks into the tiny mattress pad and sprawls out.

The two of you lean on one another, hovering over the wood to watch her sleep. Her eyelids flicker with movement, her chubby fingers squeezing around nothing every now and then.

Eventually, Touya tiredly whispers into your hair, “I learned all this from you, y'know."

Sniffling with heavy eyes and a confused pout, you weakly turn your head up to look at him in confusion.

Assuming he's talking about parenthood, his words don't make any sense in your fatigued and spiraling mind.

You learned together. He was there in the hospital when the midwives walked you through swaddling and latching and burping. When you'd discovered that your daughter preferred to eat after napping because nursing before made her sick. Watching online tutorials on which bassinet is safest for newborns---Touya was there, for all of it. He didn't learn anything about this from you.

But when he looks down into your watery eyes, through the dark of the nursery and against the shallow breaths of your sleeping daughter, you realize he's not talking about that.

His voice is a mere whisper when he confesses, “Like, how to love her right.”

Sniffling and swollen, you open your mouth to protest, but no words come out. Utterly speechless, you just stare at him a bit dumbly.

Touya fights off a smirk at your uncharacteristic silence, directing his attention back to the sleeping baby once more.

"Wouldn't know how to do this if it wasn't for you, letting me learn how to love you," he admits.

He reaches down into the crib to where she sleeps on her back, arms spread out and upward like she's stretching her tiny limbs. He takes the tips off his fingers and gently rubs her onesie-covered tummy.

“So, when she feels it from me," he whispers, not taking his eyes off of the annoyingly perfect baby before him, "it’s really just an extension of you.”

A moment of silence passes. In the heaviness of the moment, he almost thinks you didn't hear him. But he's proven wrong--something he's learned is often the case with you--when he turns his head to where you wait. Touya sees your eyes and cheeks glistening with newly shed tears, no longer the dried ones from your weariness and anxiety, gleaming up back at him.

He can't help but shake his head and laugh at the soft sight before him, withdrawing his hand from the baby's tummy and wrapping it around your shoulder.

He ushers your head into his chest, muttering a loving, “Alright crybaby, c'mon.”

He lets you sniffle and close your eyes against the cheap cotton of his shirt, letting his own eyes shut and resting his chin atop your head.

Slowly, but all the same, you feel that gentle sting of guilt eventually fade from your lungs with each gentle exhale. With heavy eyes and bad posture, you ground yourself through the senses around you. Touya's skin against yours, the sounds of gentle sighs and sniffles. The baby, the one that you had together, safe in her crib with the sole responsibility of innocently existing.

You don't want to ever forget this, or maybe you do. Half of you wishes you could forget it, just to receive the blessing of experiencing it for the first time all over again.

“Also use my quirk sometimes,” you think you hear muffled into the crown of your skull.

You open your puffy eyes to look up at him, confused.

"What?"

You watch Touya smugly shrug as he brushes the stray and sticky hairs from your clammy forehead. A sly blush creeps up his neck and jaw when he fights off a smile.

"Warm my hand up and put it on her stomach," he admits casually, caressing your soggy cheek, "shuts her right up."

You laugh, wet and pathetic and absolutely enamored by him, "That's cheating, you asshole."

You don't blame her, you think, considering the countless times you've requested the same thing from him. From period cramps to pregnancy pain to just wanting to feel him--maybe it's genetic, having your DNA and craving his warmth simultaneously.

You decide that Touya must be thinking the same thing, because he simply chuckles with you, rubbing your back as you feel the familiar heat of his fingers begin to tingle.

"Yeah, yeah," he kisses your head, "wonder where she learned that from."

[withleeknow]

letters i didn't send to you.

pairing: ot8 x reader (ot8 in the sense that there's no name mentioned so you can imagine whoever you want. imagine the whole kpop industry if you want lol) genre/warnings: established relationship, long distance relationship au?, angst, fluff if you squint. unedited bc i am insane word count: 0.7k note: trying something new here! dunno how people are gonna like it but i don't feel terrible about it 🤷‍♀️ a product of my emo hours and i needed an outlet and i thought oh hey why not just project this into a fic lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

3:29am, i've been dreaming about you for years. stars and moons and cotton candy clouds on fire at sundown. the whole universe resides in your eyes, it's almost unfair. sleepless nights because you're not here; restless days because i can't wait for you to be back. the clock stops ticking when you're not with me. the magnetic pull gets stronger during the witching hour somehow. i've always been drawn to you, even before i knew who you were. you're the only home i'd leave all my haunts for. it's summer solstice in most parts of the world but not in our bedroom, not when the only way i can have you is through a phone screen on your pillow. your voice is trying to lull me to sleep. it doesn't come close to replicating one tenth of your warmth. to love is to endure.

-

i'm halfway through the day, and you must be dreaming of where you belong, by my side on a bed that's far too big when i'm the only occupant. or at least, i hope you're dreaming of me too. 1:19pm, i'm six hours ahead but days and weeks and months and years behind, still stuck in that airport where you left me for the first time. some days, my eyes get misty at lunch when i think about your alarm going off and your irritated groan as you roll over to make your phone stop screaming. other days, i don't have an appetite at all, not with you on my mind and the reminder that there's still oceans between us. when are you coming home? i know when you're coming home, and yet i ask anyway, as if it'll shorten the distance and make the time pass more quickly. to love is to wait.

-

saturday morning, but i can't stay in bed past 7:12am. missing you a lot tonight, was what you had sent while i was asleep. that's a little cruel for a good morning text, don't you think? it's not your fault. i blame it on the oceans, on the time, on the distance. the coffee is still brewing, just enough for one steaming mug but it would've been nice if i got to make two. can we go back to new york? we always say we would, but can we do it now? i'll meet you halfway if you let me. there's nothing that ties me to this place. you're always on the move. my home is always on the move. we were happy on that trip, right? my fondest memories of you. skylines and the high line. to love is to risk it all, and i would risk it all for you. take me home, will you? let's go back to new york.

-

the clock reads 8:18am, but the date is all wrong. you should be landing any minute now, but not for another two days. two more days until you're home, ten days that i get to be in your arms. and yet, all i can think about is your departure, about coming back to an empty apartment after you're gone again. i think about you leaving before you even return. the drive back after i've sent you off, it never hurts less no matter how many times we go through it. i can already picture the scene, it's almost routine at this point. your sparkling eyes when they find me in the crowded airport, your relieved sigh when i run to you, your hands clutching me so tightly like you don't want to let go either. it's always this damn airport. we should stop meeting like this. when the buzzing of my phone snaps me out of it, i know who's on the other end of the notification. a photo of your new polaroid camera, then a promise to make more memories to keep with us when you come back to me.

to love is to willingly weather this with you a million times and more. even if it hurts. maybe especially if it hurts. you're the reason i keep going. you're the reason why the sun rises in the morning. let's talk about new york when you're here.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 02.07.2024]

[youkaiyume]

Alright, so I've been a fan of Shane, Ryan and even Steven since their buzzfeed days and I've been watching this whole thing with Watcher moving their content over to their own streaming service debacle.

Like most ppl, I think it's a poor business move to alienate your fans like this, but I've been thinking on it more from maybe a financial perspective. I'm wondering how many people actually signed up for it. I saw a tiktok advertising expert say that the conversion rate for ads--meaning the number of ppl to actually buy something when they see an ad is about 1-5%. Like, right now they have about 2.8 million subscribers. And even though they've lost about 50K since and counting, they probably anticipated some loss. I'm sure they've mathed that if they just get at least like 100K conservatively out of their nearly 3 million fanbase to sign up, they'd be able to make $600K a month from their streaming service at six bucks a pop each month.

Maybe that's worth it? I'm not exactly sure how much they were making before. Ppl say they had 11K subscribers on patreon before but that's just their member total. Actual paid members was about 5K. But despite the controversy, their patreon member count has actually gone up. Today it sits at 12K members total with nearly 6K members paying. So they're making at least $30K-70K+ a month currently on patreon based on their offered tiers. not sure how much they were making on ad revenue alone or sponsors cuz I'm not sure how that stuff works on youtube. But maybe by their own accounting they think the loss of followers was worth it if they can hang on to that small, loyal but paying minority.

Another youtuber has pointed out that if you have a sponsor for a video and it's a one off, it can pay more. Up to $35K. So if that is the peak and they release 1 video a week, so 4 a month would be like 140K a month on sponsor money. And youtube pays about $10 per 1000 views a video, and they average 1 mil each video. So about $40K a month on views. So we can guess that they made about $180K a month currently on youtube (patreon and merch sales not included).

Honestly, if they can reach the goal of 1-5% of their subscribers converting to their streaming platform, yeah they probably would make more money in the long run. IF they can somehow manage to retain as well as grow those number of subscribers on their new platform. And don't forget, they don't plan to delete their current videos on their youtube channel so they'll still be earning revenue from those videos. We'll have to see I guess given how much goodwill they've lost with their audience.

Tbh, I am all for them trying to get paid more for their work but I also think they could have transitioned much differently, like only putting some exclusive content on their own platform while also posting free shows to youtube. Or maybe delaying releases for a week or a month for youtubers. or cutting back your production costs if it's really killing you cuz everyone has pointed out they liked the ghoul boys when it was just a black screen with text scrolling by saying "wheeze." Only time will tell if this move paid off for them.

But I'm not super knowledgeable on how the entire youtube thing works so if someone has some insight, feel free to weigh in.