#KS summary

[crooked-hourglass]

Rough sketch, because I have feelings that need to be visualised. I will render this I promise!

[infiniteseriesofhalfways]

I'm still in the middle of The Guest Room by Tasha Sylva (64% according to TheStoryGraph) and I have to jot down predictions and thoughts. Rambling and spoilers under the cut.

I feel like she wants us to think that Aaron is the one who killed Tess's sister, the 'diary' is actually him stalking Rosie, and now that she's dead he's replacing her with her sister. I think one 'twist' will be that the diary is totally fictional and he's writing a book/short story and the similarities to Tess are him drawing from his real life/loosely basing 'You' on Tess.

Luke is the obvious suspect for Tess's stalker, but after he tried to kiss her I'm less inclined to think it's him. From what we know was written about Tess, the kiss was too impulsive to be the same person. I'm guessing Ivy is actually the stalker. I know I'm being meta about it, but she's the one nobody would ever suspect, so that's most of it, but also her reaction to her 'fwb' trying to kiss the neighbor wasn't what I would have expected. Too cold.

I'm calling it now, I think Tess killed Rosie. Her behavior with Oliver makes me think she's capable, and I think she might be being drugged at night (her sleep/dreams being blank and something else early on that made me suspect it) and again, I'd probably put that on Ivy. She probably doesn't remember, and what memories she does have are all foggy. I'd also say it was an accident.

I still have four hours of book left (two since I'm listening on 2x speed) and it feels like forever. I don't know what it is about this one I just cannot get hooked into it the way I like to with audiobooks.

Unsure what to listen to after as I want spooky/horror/Halloween-ish vibes but it's not my usual genre so it's harder for me to get into, and I don't have any 'go to' authors in the genre.

[dan-whoell]

so did i miss anything or...?

[thewinter-eden]

insecurity pt. I // ks texts

Title: Insecurity pt I Genre: fake texts, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort Pairing: idol friend!Seungmin x EXTROVERT fem!reader

Summary: You're one of Stray Kids' social media managers. After all this time, it's impossible not to become friends with some of the nicest people on the planet. But now, as you're starting to feel things for Seungmin, his aloof behavior is a constant reminder that you're just too much for him.

Warnings: extroverted reader (lots of exclamation points lol, channeled one of my extro friends for this one), socially constipated Seungmin (we love him anyway), slight Hannie slander (contact name)

notes: It's finally here!!! Happy Valentines Day everyone!!! Hope you're all alive after the solo stage swaps (because I'm not oh my god) again, thank you @ramadiiiisme for the lovely brainstorming and ideas for this entire series you're the best <3

SS: 11

(ignore timestamps)(intro to friend/work dynamics)

Part 2

tag list : @amarecerasus @kumariiai @diekleinesuesse @captainchrisstan @0omillo0 @katexstay @younggwingss @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @feetoffthemalfoy @seungminsapuppy @stilldontknowhoiam @hanadulsetaad @idiotmaterial @micr0c0soms @luvv1anime @imeverycliche @luvv1anime @starygw3n @depressedarlling @riri53 @bangchansgirlsblog @skzstannie @sellomaybe @lailac13 @my-neurodivergent-world @4ng3l-ch1ld @ellelabelle @velvetmoonlght @whokno-ows @ravengxbss @brbwritingfanfic @dearbisky @r1nstaaa @dolphin-scream-s @beewilko @nightshadeblooming @wickedbutlovely @ebnabi @thatgirlangelb @notastraykid @ka0ila @scarlet789 @nightshadeblooming

[wesstars]

love, at second glance

tara carpenter x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: that’s what you do when you love somebody else… wc: 1k tags: all characters 18+; no ghostface au. angst, horribly excessive use of italics (seriously, everything in italics is either a quote, a thought, or actual emphasis. it’s terrible) a/n: what’s up y’all (title from 715 - CR∑∑KS by bon iver)

masterlist

Tara wondered when it all began.

You and me, me and you.

A mantra that used to be comforting, it now left her mouth dry, mind frantic. 

Sometimes, when it got real bad like it did today, she’d drive out to your—our—deserted garage, and look up into a pitch black night, blinking away tears. It was easy to scream at the sky: how could you forget about me about us about milkshakes shared about distances closed about how I love you and love you and love you—but to you, she’d say nothing.

She couldn’t say anything, while you basked in the glow of a new hand to hold. It was all over in a helpless shrug. That was it, and really, it wasn’t your fault. Nobody’s fault. You couldn’t help it, Tara reasoned, you weren’t cruel. Even at the very end, you were endlessly kind. Commitment was a choice, but love, love happened to you away from Tara and she couldn’t do anything but watch.

Tara switched the engine off, leaning back in her seat. The stars shone barely brighter than the city lights. It was strange, the way that when she was on the brink of losing everything, the world looked that much more beautiful. Every breath in that particularly cold winter felt like it was being swallowed up by the vastness of air itself, precious in its scarcity. 

“But I love you.”

You said nothing for a moment, a troubled little frown twisting on your lips. “Tara, I—”

“I love you.” She heard, rather than felt, herself repeating it. As if stopping you from speaking would make that cold reality any less crushing. “That’s all.”

It was odd, Tara decided, to go online and see your life in the pictures she used to be part of. She put her phone down. From tide pulls to seasons changing, there wasn’t exactly a world where she envisioned herself going on without you. There was something in that sinking feeling, like you were holding her down with a hand on her chest, when she saw you laughing with your friends, with anyone, a smile so brilliant it couldn’t possibly have Tara as the cause. 

You’d always wanted a little cabin in the woods (“not in a creepy way,” you’d insist) surrounded by mist, and it would always be raining. “You’re the only sunshine I need, Tara Carpenter.” She could still hear the way you’d tease her, lying on your side next to her, tracing the bridge of her nose with your fingertip. So easy it was, to tumble back into those shining memories where absolutely nothing would go wrong, you wouldn't let it, because she was yours.

The top floor of the lot was empty, and the moon spilled onto the windshield, into the empty passenger seat. She was lucky, you both were lucky, to have even come as close to the sun as the two of you did. Tara knew, deep inside herself, that if she just let it all go, she would be okay. The blood would rush back into her fingertips—you wouldn’t be there to massage the feeling back into them, the way you often did on winter nights like this—and then she would be okay.

Tara thought that she remembered too much for someone so hurt. Your hand on her thigh while you drove, wiping her lipstick off your cheek, the way you seemed so so so unhappy when you sat her down for one last time. You didn’t even look the same then, like you were somebody else, you weren’t hers anymore. It was getting colder in the car, but Tara didn’t feel anything but the searing coil of shame. 

Sunkissed March found you and Tara lying side by side on a picnic blanket, sodas losing their fizz as time forgot to move the two of you. A breeze ruffled the leaves, and if she really listened, Tara could hear the frogs in the nearby pond. You loved it here—you said it reminded you of hot summers spent in the countryside, the days as long as wildflowers. Not half an hour ago, you were braiding together the stems of daisies into a lush crown. 

“For you, Queen Carpenter,” you said in a posh accent. “A gift from your humble knight—each braid represents a ‘forever,’ and each flower is an ‘always.’” You set the crown atop Tara’s head, kissing the tip of her nose as she rolled her eyes.

“And what has compelled my knight to bring me such a gift?”

“Only all of the love I carry for you, your majesty.” You scooped her up in your arms, smiling as she giggled, rolling the two of you over to settle into the knolls of grass.

There was a certain bravery in the way your fingers wrapped loosely around hers, the way the heels of both your shoes made indents in the dirt—proclaiming, we were here. Even in her doze, Tara could feel you there, each moment stretching on like strings of eternity, unfailingly. 

The moment did end, as moments do. The crown, dried and shrunk, still hung from the rear view mirror in the car. The daisies themselves were long gone, but the dried stems had somehow stayed bound together. Tara’s head dropped into her hands, eyes sore and red. She’d thought so much and so often about where the two of you went wrong, she felt like she had turned over every stone in your path, ones that didn’t carry with them the weight of a goodbye. Tara would give anything to even know what it would take for you to stand in the sun with her one more time.

The abrupt knock on the window should’ve startled Tara more than it did, given that it was four in the morning in an empty parking lot, and she was supposed to be all alone. But all she could do was watch with wide eyes as the knock came from you, at your tight lipped smile. She rolled down the window, unable to feel anything but shock as she took in your mismatched shoes with untied laces, your shirt way too thin for the cold night. You weren’t looking at her, guilt evident in the hunch of your shoulders. Your voice comes out exactly as she remembered it. 

“Hey… can we talk?”

--

a/n cont'd: don't super feel like i like this but writing it came naturally so

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

[ghostofwriting]

in London: but in my mind I play it back

Rafe x Reader

Warnings: mentions of cheating

Note: Another random drabble idea that popped into my head. This can be read as a stand-alone but it is the same Rafe and Reader as in London: I break done cause you're not around I might continue doing angst drabbles for this and by that I mean I have one other idea rattling inside my brain for this universe.

Not KS related.

Word Count: 914

Summary: Rafe sees her for the first time in years. He learns something that shows him he needs to let go.

He didn’t want to wake up today. Something was telling him to stay in bed a little longer and take his time.

He’s older now, more disciplined. Even on his day off he has to be out of bed and doing something. Today it was going to the grocery store. 

He freezes when he sees her in the parking lot as he’s grabbing his reusable bags from the backseat of his truck. Her hair looks freshly cut and styled. The breeze makes her look like she’s just stepped out of a magazine shoot. 

She looks older,  grown up and just as beautiful as the last time he saw her. His breath is shallow as she turns around with the empty shopping cart ready to put it away. 

Their eyes meet for the first time in years. Hers go wide when she notices him. 

He didn’t want to wake up today. 

“Hey.” He says awkwardly. He’s fidgeting with the straps of the bags in his hand and bouncing from one foot to the other. 

“Hi.” She gives him a small wave, her body turned, slightly as she pushes the shopping cart into another one. 

“How are you? Been a long time.” He walks closer to her but keeps a good distance between them.

She bods agreeing with his statement, “I’m well! How have you been?” 

“Good, yeah, no I’ve been good.” Her body is still halfway turned to him. Showing him that she can’t stay for long. 

“You look good.” He has no filter when it comes to her. Wants to be polite and not tell her that he’s still in love with her. That he’ll probably never not be. 

“Thank you. You too.” She motions in the direction of her car, opening her mouth to say something but he cuts her off.

“Are you here to see family?” She doesn’t come to the outer banks anymore. No one ever sees her around. She lives in London. That’s all he knows. He thinks back to the days when he knew every little thing about her. The smell of her perfume, how many sugars she took in her coffee, the looks she gave him and the meanings behind every little micro expression. When she loved him.

“Uh-“ she swallows and smiles, “I’m here for my wedding.”

His mouth goes dry. His hands start to shake so he puts them in fists and digs his nails into his palm to stop the pain from spreading into his heart. She stares at him, a soft smile still on her lips. She’s so beautiful he could die right now and be content with it. Seeing her happy would be enough for him even if it’s not directed at him like it used to be. 

She’s getting married. The girl he gave a promise ring to in their last year of high school is getting married and it’s not to him. Because he fucked up. Because she stopped looking at him like that the minute he betrayed her. His heart aches. It tells him to do something. To tell her that he loves her, get on his knees, and beg her to run away with him. It screams at him to stop the wedding. To fight one more time and leave a fire in his wake so she has no choice but to follow. 

He can’t do that to her. He ruined her one too many times, he’s hurt her enough. She deserves better than him. She deserves to be happy. Deserves someone who didn’t sleep with her best friend. It hurts. It kills him to think this way. He wishes he could be the guy waiting on the other end of the aisle. He isn’t. Not in this life at least. He only has himself to blame. 

“Congratulations.” He tells her. His hands still in fists at his side. 

“Thank you!” She smiles wider, “It was nice to see you, I should get going.” She goes to turn around again but he can’t let her leave. Not yet. 

“Are you happy?” He swallows.

She nods at him, “so happy.” His heart leaps for her once more. 

“Good. Yeah, you deserve that.” 

“Thank you, Rafe.” He hasn’t heard her say his name without hostility in such a long time. He melts at the sound of it leaving her lips. 

He loves her. God does he love her. 

And he lost her. 

“Bye, Rafe.” She waves.

“Bye.” He whispers to himself, watching her walk away and get into her car. 

The next time he sees her, if he sees her, she’ll be married. The woman he loves will be gone. 

Anyone who knows him will know that after all these years he was still holding out hope. He thought that one day he would gather enough courage to go find her in London and make her believe him when he told her he had changed. He would fight for her and their love and he would be the one to get down on one knee and ask her for forever. 

He dreamed that they would bump into each other at the beach by Tannyhill because she would be drawn there by their memories and he would ask her to come inside and they would start their journey back to each other. 

She’s getting married. This weekend she’s getting married. 

That alone leaves him empty of all the hopes and dreams.

He lets go. 

He didn’t want to wake up today.

[chiquita99]

*PMS-ing*

Summary: it is that time of the month

⚠️Warning⚠️ None

_____________________________________

You were cozy on the cream suede couch with a fleece blanket and some chocolate, watching The Vampire Diaries.

You had popped some extra strength tylenol and it just started numbing the pain.

Finally some relief ugh.

Your husband wanted to get frisky last night but you couldn't allow that level of intimacy due to pain.

The first day is always the most brutal.

The sound of the front door opening, made you turn your head, even though you knew it was your husband.

"How was your day babe, do you feel better?" Michael asked as he entered the house and removed his jacket.

"I'm alive" you sigh and lay into your soft body billow.

He comes over and kisses the top of your head, then hands you a pack of Hershey kiss chocolates.

"Thank you hun" you smile softly.

"Anything for you sweetheart" he smiled back and sat in the spot next to you.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, making you let go of your pillow.

He looked at the scene on the TV and asked "what team are you? Damon or Stefan?".

You hummed and then replied " [your choice] ".

"If I were a girl, I'd be team Damon" he smirked.

"Really? Why?" You quizzed and looked at him with your soft eyes.

He gave you a quick peck on the lips.

"Damon would burn the world for his woman. I would also"

You snuggle more into his side and he rests his head against yours.

You both shared a few moments of silence. Taking in the day.

"How was work?" You ask him.

He hummed in thought before responding, "it was pretty okay. I was going over blueprints for a beautiful Mediterranean tower a husband wanted to build his wife"

He looked down to his cheek and gently moved a piece of hair that fell into your face.

You smile at the romantic gesture. It was sweet to see what a person would do for another.

"What would you like for dinner babe?" Michael asked.

"I think I have chicken in the fridge" you tell him and get out of your comfy spot.

"Oh babe, you didn't have to worry about it right this minute" Michael said and got up with you.

He followed you into the kitchen.

You opened the fridge and quickly skimmed the contents.

"Oh f**ks sake" you curse in frustration.

You forgot to pull the chicken from the freezer to thaw.

"What is wrong??" He asked in confusion.

You face palm and shake your head in anger.

Tears then start falling from your eyes.

Michael is stunned and doesn't know what to do.

His eyes glued to you.

"Babe" he says.

"Babe"

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest.

You start balling and sobbing into his blue dress shirt.

He cooes you like you would a baby, and he strokes your hair.

"We will get chinese food. We can get starbucks. Do you want pizza?.....um do you need a burger?" He starts babbling.

You shake your head no into his chest and cry some more.

"I'll get your chocolate from the livingroom" he says and goes to grab your chocolate in a rush.

He returns in a jiffy and is unwrapping the foil on the chocolate to give to you.

You push his hand away that carried the chocolate.

He still had a bewildered look on his face.

He looks into space before undoing his belt.

"Is it sex you need?" He asked, fumbling the buckle.

Your tears stopped pouring and you couldn't help but let a giggle slip.

"I heard sometimes women get upset when they need more sex. I mean, I can give it right here on the counter"

You put your hand on his and he stops.

"No baby, it is just hormones" you tell him softly.

"I'm sorry" you sniffle.

"Don't say sorry baby. I understand" he tells you and pulls you into a hug again.

"It's a build up of not feeling good last night, forgetting things, and the extra feelings that are present at this time of the month" you say.

"I understand what you're saying" he assures, "pick out delivery, we'll finish your show, do some cuddles and kisses, and if you're up for it.........." he winks at you.

He plants a sweet kiss on your lips.

"Yes, I need some papi time" you giggle

[samanthaa-leanne]

Eight: Punishment #1

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Summary: YN Hinata is the twin sister of Shoyo Hinata. Where Shoyo is all rainbows and sunshine YN is thorns and storm clouds. YN picks on Hinata any chance she gets. Why? Because of how easy it is & that’s the only way she knows how to show her love. She’d never allow anyone else to treat Shoyo the way she does though. That is until the tall and handsome Tsukishima Kei enters her life and makes it a point to go against her wishes. Why does it always have to be the hot ones?

Pairings: Tsukishima x Reader  

Status: Ongoing

Warnings: Language, angst, & 17+ memes

Updates: When I Can

Taglist: Open {20/50} please send an ask to be added to the taglist

@iamapotat @chewbrry  @kuroaka  @fantasycantasy @passionateuchiha @awkwardspontaneity @alpha-mommy69 @xoxopam4 @universal-s1ut @ks-tsukki @yuminako @thechaosoflonging @krak-jj @whoami-72 @a-little-pebbl @shadysuittrash @lovingnightmarewriter @pleaseitsjustrae0nly @noodleswastaken @wannabeisekai

[the-bjd-community-confess]

Hello, folks. This is your Oldie Chinese Diaspora Anon™️. I am starting to feel like I sound like bad news bears, so I would like to make my stance clear here. I have nothing against blind box dolls – heaven knows, I have a couple of them, too. It’s just unfortunate that I keep on encountering troubling news when it comes to blind box dolls, it seems. Please bear with me, would you?

Now, I need to introduce you to an... old friend. While we all know the resin recaster and his myriad of companies, I think I have brought up the vinyl recaster, DBS, a few times before as well. As a refresher, DBS is a toy company that specializes in vinyl and ABS toys. They bill themselves as the creators of “proudly MiC” toys for the next generation. However, their dolls have been found to be “recasted” from resin into vinyl and they have been plagiarising from several different companies, from Koreans to down-home Chinese. The MäyTrëë line of blind boxes were rejected by the BJD community because while the original designer was independent, the dolls were made by one of the DBS companies and was thought to be one of their subsidiaries. (more information here: https://the-bjd-community-confess.tumblr.com/post/727751969206304768/hello-anon-this-is-your-oldie-chinese-diaspora )

With that as a preamble, let me introduce you to the “Inedible Rabbits” dolls (Well, these ones: https://www.kikagoods.com/products/moon-jumping-time-bunny-series-1-12-action-figure-bjd-blind-box?variant=44766128931050 ). Similar to the “Escape Plan” dolls, they were created by a team of newbies who first 3D-printed their designs and pitched them to what’s akin to a Chinese-version of a Kickstarter called Modian. During the crowdfunding period, people can pre-order these dolls while the team running the KS maintain regular updates, chase goals, changes to the designs, etc. The final production is usually outsourced to a factory. The team is, in theory, working with the team all the way until delivery. I still vaguely remember someone asking “why aren’t there KS campaigns for dolls?” Well, you’re about to find out why… it wasn’t the price or the long production time, There’s a lot more to it.

As with the “Escape Plan” team, there’s a gap between the final products when compared to the samples (https://the-bjd-community-confess.tumblr.com/post/756541155738615808/一万次出逃计划开箱-避雷快跑哔哩哔哩bilibili ). One of the problems that was encountered by the buyers from the Escape Plan Team was that they have gone AWOL when people started to receive their dolls and started complaining. With the Inedible Rabbit Team however, my sources reported worse issues with communication. The creative team was not only unresponsive most of the time but they would block anyone who even asked benign questions. We also found out that the creative team behind the Inedible Rabbits did not apply to become a company prior to establishing their KS. It means that all of the transactions are considered personal (think F&F). With their frequent and wilful blocking of people, there are a lot of donors who are worried about how shady their behaviour is.

This is the latest expose from a Chinese source: https://www.xiaohongshu.com/explore/66e00cce000000001e01903f?app_platform=ios&app_version=8.52&share_from_user_hidden=true&xsec_source=app_share&type=normal&xsec_token=CBUsqAi70IwpfK_-OZEZS28zESD2e88FIMRgVnkEaN3D8=&author_share=1&xhsshare=CopyLink&shareRedId=ODlFNzlGND02NzUyOTgwNjg5OTc7Szk8&apptime=1725972303&share_id=49435c4b26604cbe8cd6fd49fc41db11 And this is a summary by a Taiwanese proxy: https://www.plurk.com/p/3gac0e1qck (please feel free to use a Google Translator to help you)

The Taiwanese Plurk mentioned that the clothes of the dolls were made by the infamous DBS. This was discovered from a video that the Inedible Rabbit Team posted on their social media showing the interior of their outsourced factory that made clothes for them. (can be seen here: https://www.xiaohongshu.com/explore/66e26d2a000000001e0193cc?app_platform=ios&app_version=8.53&share_from_user_hidden=true&xsec_source=app_share&type=video&xsec_token=CBaBewvBjppksg843In6KcCKwy5e3Tbv8rN-f9ARvjXks=&author_share=1&xhsshare=CopyLink&shareRedId=ODYzRUU9PTw2NzUyOTgwNjY0OThISEtL&apptime=1726233161&share_id=189d6a99974941f899342c780b0e8890 ) At the 0:12 timestamp, a box with the DBS logo was shown very briefly in a pan-over shot. (seen here: https://www.xiaohongshu.com/explore/66e283db0000000027002ca0?app_platform=ios&app_version=8.53&share_from_user_hidden=true&xsec_source=app_share&type=normal&xsec_token=CBaBewvBjppksg843In6KcCK1D4UzhNUD8Fm5_7tph_yA=&author_share=1&xhsshare=CopyLink&shareRedId=ODYzRUU9PTw2NzUyOTgwNjY0OThISEtL&apptime=1726233089&share_id=9de63adea9b14bd191309c996ed2bc29 ) Thanks to this discovery, a lot of the collectors and donators who also own resin BJDs are asking for refunds because they do not want to be associated with DBS in the fear of being seen as pro-recast. Thanks to people pulling out of the KS, the proxy has informed me that some of the unlocked stretch goals would most likely be rescinded. She is afraid that if too much of the funds get pulled out, the creative team may just pack up and do a rug pull with the money. Thanks to the fact that they never registered as a company, if they run, there’s basically no way to get that money back.

I do not want to be seen as someone who stands in others’ way of having a good time and earning money. But I also cannot stay quiet when I know that blind box dolls are a lot of new collectors’ gateway into resin BJD. This is akin to me knowing that something is a recast but fail to warn the new comers ahead of time. If anyone gets looked down upon or rejected from a group due to association with a doll that uses DBS clothes, I don’t think I can quite live with myself. So… thank you very much for lending your ears to me once more. I know full well that I do not have the ability to change anyone’s mind, but at least I can sleep better knowing that I have tried my best to tell you what I know.

Post Script: On September 14th, the creative team behind Indedible Rabbits posted their first public apology: https://www.modian.com/project/update/detail/161340 They promised to create a business account and becoming more accountable. They also stated that despite the factory video they are not in collaboration with DBS. It's up to you to decide if you want to believe the team. end!)

~Anonymous

[derpydoteddrake]

Why s2 will set viktor up as the future main antagonists for piltover and zaun after arcane.

(this is less of a thematic analysis and more of a meta one about the marketing and worldbuilding they did so far and probably do in the future. no le*ks)

First, let's ask the question, why is arcane canon? yes money but beyond that looking at where s1 left the characters off, it was quite oblivious if they only wanted 1 more season (which they said even after s1 came out), they can not finish every ones story properly.

They got to pick between letting it stay unfinished, more seasons, or making it canon so they can get back to it later.

And we know which they picked.

They wanted to use their popular show to function as an entry point for this universe/brand.

And this is the second important question to note: what's arcanes purpose?

Yes to be a good show, but let's not be naive, they want to sell you their universe, they want you to play the games and watch the shows and read their books.

So s2 will end with a hook. The storie of the 2 sisters may be over for now, but they want u to come back, so some tangible conflict for the future will be set up.

And we know that they already using arcane to set up future major players in the universe.

But then why cant ambessa fill that role for the future? they pushing her so hard.

Well, the book summary kinda gives it away.

After arcane she wont gonna stay as key player in pnz, she will be a key player in noxus, as an adversary for swain.

So who or what could work as setted up future antagonist, someone who commands enough power to be a real threat for the cities?

Silco - is dead

Warwick - dangerous but couldn't bend an entire city

Singed - he doesn't organise people in a way that would be a problem

Jinx - by the end of the show her story is probably finished for a while

Ambessa - the conflict with her is also finished for at least while

other then them pnz had prominent antagonists before like Renata Urgot or Camille, but with the rewrites they not only exist in a limbo, but if they goal with arcane is to bring in new fans, they would use an existing character in the show to fill that role.

and even though I think noxus will be presented as a continuous threat, (even in the previous lore it said noxus wanted to take over piltover and it even had a strong relationship with zaun but) the main one will be something else to switch things up.

So we are left with one glorious man who is the best candidate for the job.

Not only it wouldn't make sense for his story to conclude yet since even in s1 it was oblivious his story is only beginning, but it would make a lot of sense if they spend the series setting up the next big villain, in a way casual watchers didn't even realize.

It looks like they going strong with the cultist angel which means:

he has a considerable amount of manpower he can command

by himself he is capable of magic

and it is very likely when he changes people's bodies he will have some control over them.

Which means he will most likely end up in the perfect position to take over this role, the marketing and release dates also seems to be align with this.

First they teased the main villain for the series with her release to properly build up hype.

But I suspect when the show kicks into full gear they will switch their markething around and promote the 3 main women and thats when most likely they legendaries drop.

legends of runaterra pretty much confirmed this. They using Ambessa to promote the beginning of the series release (prologue), we have a middle that will most likely feature most prominently jinx, vi and caitlin, and then an epilogue that sets up future things.

The same way they wanted to drop Ambessa everywhere in a relatively short time frame, we could expect the same treatment for the Viktor vgu next month, which would align with the epilogue celebration in december.

Which will most likely feature jayce and viktor. Not only they have been absent from the promotion so far, they will both receive confirmed legendaries, and the hex cores present is continuously alluded to in marketing.

I believe this indicates that they have big plans for them, and in a way that will be a surprise for both newcomers and old fans, this is why they are so secretive about them.

And thats because the 3. act and the epilogue of arcane will set viktor up as the next main antagonist of pnz.

[bangchanyespls]

Phosphorescence Pt 4

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: You make it back to the house. Felix is the first to look you over.

Tw: crying, yelling (or louder voice), injury

A/N: so yn is gunna use a nickname for Felix. It's gunna be Feixah (fee-ks-uh) (like fix but with an e, then uh) simply bc I think it's cute and that's how my save folder is for him on IG bc I mistyped when I was naming it 😂 but also I did a poll for who y/n is gunna be with and yall voted Chan, so your wish is my command. Unless yall lmk you changed your mind 😂

Part 3

Part 5

Minho keeps you against his chest, one hand holding the back of your head, your face pressed into the junction of his neck and shoulder, the other running up and down your back as you sag fully into him, arms dropping from around his neck to rest by your sides.

You can hear the house in chaos; Changbin and Han are in the hallway rapidly discussing if Han would be able to separate Chans blood from the tranquilizer, but Seungmin chimes in with the problem of how would they get the tranquilizer out of his body. Jeongin and Hyunjin seem to join the conversation, the sound of it moving further away from you and Minho.

You hear footsteps approach, Minho tensing slightly before relaxing, and Felix's voice meets your ears.

"Is y/n.. okay?"

There's a tremble in the way he says it, watery around the edges, the pause as he debates which word to use. You shift slightly, tilting your head back to remove it from Minhos neck. You look up at Felix, taking in the way his face is trying so hard not to crumble - the muscles in his neck just as tense as in his jaw, face tight to stop him from crying.

"I'm okay, 'Lixuh." You reply, trying to put on a reassuring smile for him, although you know it's more of a grimace.

You tap Minhos arm, and he stands up, helping you along the way, holding the majority of your weight for you. You situate your arm around his neck as you reach the other out, gesturing for Felix to come to you. Felix wraps his arms around you, tightening his grip as Minho bows out from under your arm.

"I'm gunna go check on their progress with Chan. Make sure to bring y/n back to the infirmary soon to get looked at."

Felix nods in response, eyes scanning over you as he holds you away from himself slightly. You watch Minho walk out of the room, reluctant to be alone with Felix as you're unsure of what his reaction will be this time.

He pulls you closer again, turning around before he sits you on the couch to do his own actual inspection. He drops to his knees infront of you, hands gently maneuvering and caressing each part of your body as he looks you over. You keep your eyes locked on the hollow of his throat, lips clamped tightly together to keep any sounds of discomfort locked in.

The silence is loud, aggressively charged like a bomb waiting to go off. Its normally a charged situation when you come back injured from a mission, but today's different and you're not sure why.

A hiss escapes your lips as Felix touches around your calf and he quickly moves his hands back up, resting them against the denim of your shorts on your thighs. You take a chance glancing at his face, but his head is hanging down as he squeezes.

"Feixuh-" you start, but he shakes his head harshly, squeezing your thighs harder, a silent beg from him, and you sigh, but go quiet, sliding your hands ontop of his.

He threads your fingers together, gripping them tight like you'll slip through if he doesn't. He rubs his thumbs up and down your hands, grip getting uncomfortably tight as his shoulders start to shake.

"I thought you weren't gunna come back this time, y/n." His whisper is harsh, like he's having to rip it from his throat to get it out. Like if he says it, then it'll come true and you'll disappear right infront of him.

"They came back with a barely conscious Chan, and you. weren't. there." He growls the last bit, voice going hard as he gets louder as he recounts what happened, "Hyunjin and Seungmin wouldn't even look me in the face as they dragged Chan to the infirmary! Minho refused to let me come with to get you! You could of died y/n! And I would of- what could i- if you-" his voice finally cracks, snapping as a sob tears out of his throat as he buries his face into your lap.

You can feel the burning in your throat and behind your eyes as you try to keep your own tears locked away. You remove a hand from his grip and run it through his hair as he sobs quietly into your lap. You scratch slightly at his scalp before you start again.

"Feixuh-"

He shakes his head one more time, still too upset to hear his own nickname.

You huff slightly, but comply. "Felix, I had to send them back first. You know Minho can only take three-"

His head shoots up as he looks you in the eye, his voice begging as he cuts you off.

"Why couldn't it of been you?"

You smile ruefully, moving your hands to cup his face and wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"You know I had to stay behind. No one else could protect themselves while also protecting the others."

He opens his mouth to interject, but you continue over him.

"The plan didn't go how it was supposed to and the first priority was getting Chan and everyone else out of there. I couldn't risk someone else getting hurt just to stay with me-"

He whines loudly, the noise slightly guttural from the back of his throat. His chest jumps up and down haphazardly as his breathing quickens.

"But what if they'd gotten through your shield, y/n? More than they did! Who knows what could of happened! They could of killed you! Or worse! And then -"

You cover his mouth with your hand, the other moving to the nape of his neck as you rub it, trying to soothe him.

"But they didn't. And I'm okay and right here. And everyone's back safe and sound."

He huffs against your hand and you remove it, leaning forward to place your forehead against his. You both stare at eachother as he starts regulating his breathing in time with yours.

You feel his hand go to the nape of your neck, fingers tight against your neck as you both hold the other close, both your eyes closing as you take a moment to rest, supporting each other.

"Everyone's safe.." He mumbles, and you nod slightly against him. He takes another breath, sliding his hand from your neck to cup your cheek softly. You open your eyes to see him looking at you, a sad, watery half smile greeting you before he backs away and stands up.

"Come on. Let's go get you checked out."

He holds his hand out, and you take it, shifting into him as you stand up to keep the weight off your leg. He moves your arm around his shoulder as he stoops down to pick you up, your knees hooking over his arm. You rest your head against the junction of his neck and shoulder and close your eyes as he carries you out of the room and to the infirmary.

♡♡

[supernaturalscribe67]

Lucky

Words: 4,699

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Dean/Sam Winchester x Trans!FTM!Winchester!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Mention of surgery, references to top surgery recovery, slight gore (maybe?), language (also, maybe?), loving and supportive family members, fluff

Summary: Top surgery was never something the reader thought was possible. With the help of Sam, he was able to make his dream come true, and his brothers are there for him to help while he's in recovery.

Request:

I would absolutely love Dean and Sam with a younger trans brother who just got top surgery and is in recovery? Just fluff of like helping him wash his hair or getting things for him and reassuring them? Love your content so much!! It so nice to see some more trans content in the supernatural fandom :)

@cometcreates

A/N: I am so sorry this took a little longer to get out than I planned - work has been extremely hectic and draining recently - but I hope you like it! Let me know what you think! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Much love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

People define luck in many different ways. Some say luck is a dollar bill lying on the ground, some say it’s a passing grade once they get their tests back, and others say it’s their true love. (Y/N), however, would define his luck as waking up every morning in the Men of Letters bunker with his brothers. 

Years ago when he came out to his older brothers as transgender, although they were a little confused at first, they were fully supportive. They did everything in their power to make sure that their little brother was comfortable, not only in their home and out in public but in his skin as well. They purchased a binder for him, got him better clothing, adjusted rather quickly to his name and pronoun change, and got defensive - sometimes a little too much - whenever someone misgendered him. With all that they were doing for him, (Y/N) couldn’t imagine how luckier he could get. He already had an amazing support system, what else could he need? 

At the end of last year, Sam approached him and asked him if he had been wanting to get top surgery, something they had talked about once or twice, but never regularly. When (Y/N) showed his interest in getting the surgery, Sam told him that he had done some research about different places where he could potentially get the procedure done, as well as all the criteria that certain places needed for him to qualify. After they sat and talked for a while, they concluded that, with Sam’s assistance, they would get started on (Y/N)’s journey toward top surgery. 

The months following consisted of semi-monthly visits with a psychologist Sam found in Hays, KS - all of the medical professionals required a steady diagnosis of gender-dysphoria from a registered psychologist to be able to consider the patient for the operation - as well as reading up on the aftermath of the surgery and what was to be expected. Of course, (Y/N) knew he would get all of the information from his surgeon before it was done, but he wanted to make sure he was well-informed and nothing was left out of the consultation. 

The consultation went well, and, after waiting for an eternity in the examination room, the doctor finally came in and set up the date for the surgery. (Y/N) was over the moon, and he immediately began to count down the days. Sam and Dean helped him get all of the necessary items he needed for the surgery recovery; various snacks, scar care creams, a surgical binder, a mastectomy pillow, and an extremely cozy blanket that he had begged them to buy. Even after they had gotten everything on the list, occasionally, they would buy something they thought would be beneficial for the recovery period. 

Then, they waited. Day after day went by and (Y/N) found it difficult to focus on hunting rather than the anxiety and anticipation that bubbled within him, but his brothers kept him grounded in times of distress. They could tell just how excited he was, and they never wanted to dampen the mood by turning his focus back on the job. They wanted him to keep that enthusiasm even after he had the surgery. When the day of the surgery came, they didn’t even try to calm his excitement. Just seeing how happy he was made them feel the same. 

The surgery went well. The recovery was going to be the hard part. The doctor made sure to prescribe him pain medication, which the brothers had picked up before they left the surgical center to head back to the bunker, and gave him a pamphlet describing all of his recovery needs in grave detail. Of course, they had already been well-prepared for the occasion, but it was nice to have it on hand. (Y/N) stayed in the hospital under observation for two days until he was finally released, clad in nothing but a pair of shorts, some slides, his surgical binder, the drainage tubes and bulbs connected to each incision underneath the binder, and one of Sam’s flannels that rested against his shoulders, keeping the front open to allow his chest to breathe. After he was wheeled and loaded into the back of the car, the three brothers made the drive back home. 

By the time the Impala edged its way into the well-lit garage, the sun had gone down, and the night sky was littered with stars. It wasn’t a long way to Lebanon from Kansas City, about five hours depending on traffic, but the trip wasn’t entirely painless. (Y/N) was thankful for the medications he was given after his surgery, but the bumpy backroads in Kansas were ruthless and did little to provide a comfortable drive home. He initially tried to sleep through the journey, but every pothole they hit - accompanied by an apology from his oldest brother - sent another wave of discomfort coursing through his chest. He had never felt more joy in his entire life than when he saw the familiar dirt road as he and his brothers got closer to the bunker. 

Dean parked the car and killed the engine. He turned, arm draped over the back of the front seat. “You feeling okay?” He asked. 

(Y/N) glanced over at him and gave a small nod. He adjusted himself and winced as the pain shot through his arms and chest. “Just sore, hurts like hell. When am I due for my next round of meds, Sammy?” He turned to his older brother in the passenger’s seat. 

Sam looked back at him for a moment and then down at his phone screen. “You should be able to take some more now. Why don’t we get you inside and into your bed first? That way we can get you something to eat and drink with your medicine.” 

“No food,” (Y/N) groaned. “I don’t feel like eating now.” 

“You have to eat something.” 

“Fine, I’ll eat some crackers, or something small, or one of those snack cakes I got, but I really can’t eat anything filling right now. I’ll eat some more in the morning when I’m feeling better.” 

“Alright,” 

“Now, can someone let me out? These doors are surprisingly heavy.” 

“Yeah!” Dean said, quick to jump out of the car and head towards the back passenger’s side. He opened the door and held out a hand. 

(Y/N) smiled weakly as he reached over and grabbed Dean’s hand. He was slow to move out of the seat and plant his feet on the ground. When he stood, his legs shook, but he let out a sigh of relief. His legs were weak. The recovery had consisted of laying in his hospital bed and, occasionally, getting up and taking a few steps inside his room, just to keep the blood flowing in his legs. With the lack of energy he had and the five-hour ride back, his legs felt completely numb, as if they were made of Jell-O. 

Dean held (Y/N)’s hand tightly while his opposite arm wrapped around his waist. He moved him away from the car and shut the door. The two of them made their way to the bunker door. Sam jumped out of the car and caught up with them as they walked inside. When they were greeted with the metal stairs that landed in the War Room, (Y/N) stopped. He let out a sigh of defeat. 

“This is going to hurt like Hell,” he mumbled. He reached a shaky arm over and grasped the railing until his knuckles paled. 

“We’ll take it slow,” Dean nodded softly. 

(Y/N) returned the nod and they began to walk down the stairs, one step at a time. The entire time they walked, Dean held onto him tightly, both of their eyes cast down towards the steps. Each step, despite the snail’s pace they walked at, made a jolt of pain shoot through (Y/N)’s back. A pained expression crossed his face multiple times as he pressed his lips together tightly. 

Finally, they reached the bottom of the stairs and another contempt sigh left (Y/N)’s lips. Sam brushed past them. 

“I’m going to grab your crackers and water and meet you in your room, okay?” He placed a gentle hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. 

“Sounds good,” (Y/N) flashed a thumbs-up towards him before Sam walked down the hallway, toward the kitchen. 

(Y/N) was a little quicker when they walked through the halls, and he was thankful when they reached his room. He wasted no time parting himself from his brother and making his way over to his bed. Despite his shaky legs, he held himself up well. He turned on the lamp on his nightstand, illuminating the room with a faint yellow glow. 

His bed was neatly made with multiple pillows resting at the head - the doctor recommended that he slept elevated for the first week or so and then slept on his back for several months afterward. It would be an adjustment, but (Y/N) knew that he could get used to it. 

He climbed into his bed, careful of the collection bags on his chest, and crawled underneath the layers of blankets. Instantly, he relaxed into the plush mattress, head resting on the stack of pillows behind him. Dean waltzed deeper into the room, eyeing him carefully. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

“Better now that I’m in bed,” (Y/N) looked over at him. “Although it just feels like I’m in another hospital room.” 

“At least you won’t be eating any more hospital food,” 

(Y/N) grimaced. “Don’t remind me of that, I’ll throw up.” 

Sam entered the room, a bottle of water in one hand, the white bag with (Y/N)’s prescription narcotics tucked under his arm, and a small sleeve of saltines in the other. He set the water bottle and saltines down on the bedside table and opened the bag. He took out the orange pill bottle and fished out an oval-shaped white capsule. He handed it to (Y/N), who took it gratefully. He popped the pill into his mouth and drank some water to wash it down. 

“You should probably empty those soon,” Sam said, gesturing towards the bags that rested against (Y/N)’s stomach. 

(Y/N) glanced down at them and shook his head. “The doctor said every twelve hours should be good. They changed them right before I left the hospital, so they should be fine for right now.” 

“Alright, if you say so,” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you need anything? TV? Books? Some snacks?”

“I’m good, thanks. I think I’m going to catch some shuteye for a bit. That car ride took all the energy out of me.” 

Sam nodded and turned to walk towards the door. “If you need anything, let us know.” 

“I will, don’t worry.” 

“Seriously,” Dean piped up. “If you need anything, even if it’s small, just holler or shoot us a text.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t help but chuckle. The overprotective nature of his brothers was something that never changed. “I promise I’ll call if I need anything.” 

Dean and Sam both gave him a small smile before they turned and left the room, closing the door behind them. (Y/N) marveled in the silence. No nurses walking outside of his room, no snoring from his brothers on the pull-out beds, no heart monitors beeping constantly. It was peaceful. He reached over and turned off the lamp light, flooding the room, once again, with darkness. The darkness was something he missed. He would never take his pitch-black room for granted ever again. 

He awoke six hours later, around the time when the medication began to wear off and the pain resurfaced. He had tried to reach over to the nightstand and grab the pill bottle, but his arms were too stiff. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, a grunt falling from his lips. The pain wasn’t as bad as it had been the day after surgery, it was mostly the sore tenderness he felt in his chest and back that bothered him. When his feet touched the floor, he was able to lean over and grab the pill bottle with ease. He uncapped it, took out another capsule, and popped it into his mouth, followed by a drink of water. The medication would start working in twenty minutes or so. 

The ache wasn’t only in his chest and back, however. As he downed the water, he felt it fall into his stomach. A gurgle sounded from his gut and he placed a hand over it. He probably shouldn’t have taken the medication on an empty stomach. He needed some food. For a moment, he considered the saltines on the bedside table but quickly tossed out the idea. They didn’t sound as appetizing as they had before he went to sleep, and even then he had only accepted them to make his brother feel better. He wanted some real food. He wanted some of the snack cakes that he got for the occasion. The real question was; could he get up and walk to the kitchen by himself without bothering his brothers? It was still early, so they were most likely asleep. They had been with him the entire time he was in the hospital, and he wanted to make sure that they got the sleep they deserved. 

(Y/N) placed his hands on his knees and let in a deep breath, his eyes falling closed for a second. With a quick exhale, he hoisted himself off of the bed. His legs quivered, and he had to reach back towards the bed to steady himself. After he stood for a couple of minutes, the blood seemed to flow back through his legs. They were unsteady, but less than they had been before. He shuffled his way towards his door and opened it, glancing up and down the hallways. He then made his way towards the kitchen. The sound of his stomach growling echoed throughout the corridor. 

“Damn, I’m getting you food, calm down,” (Y/N) mumbled to himself. 

It took a lot longer for him to get to the kitchen than it had taken to get to his room the night before. He was slow, uncomfortably so, and he hated it. He felt like an old man. At least I’m an old man without tits, he thought. 

When he got into the kitchen, he walked over to the pantry shelves and glanced up. Sat on the second highest shelf were the cupcakes that he had been craving. Those delicate, chocolatey, packaged goodies. They were teasing him with the pictures on the front of the box. He wanted one so bad, and he couldn’t even reach them. He could barely lift his arms enough to reach the shelf directly in front of him. He tried to scour the shelf in front of him for something that sounded at least a little bit appetizing, but nothing made his mouth water as much as the soft, chocolate cakes near the top of the pantry. 

Curse you, Hostess. 

Just as he was about to give up and pick something from a more accessible shelf, the sound of padded footsteps echoed down the hallway. (Y/N) turned his head towards the door as Sam entered. Sam furrowed his brows. 

“Hey, what’re you doing up?” 

“Oh, the pain medicine wore off, so I took another one. Plus I’m starving,” he then turned his gaze back to the cupcakes. 

“Do you want me to make you something for breakfast? I can make scrambled eggs.” 

“Sure,” (Y/N) shrugged. “But…I really…want a cupcake.” 

“For breakfast?” 

(Y/N) looked back at Sam. His bottom lip was pushed out in a small, child-like pout. His eyes were big and his brows were tilted up slightly. It was his own signature puppy-dog eyes. Sam’s puppy-dog eyes were good, but (Y/N)’s was better. Those eyes were the reason behind him getting to pick a place to eat or what movie they watched most of the time. 

Sam sighed as he walked over, grabbed the box of cupcakes, and ripped it open. He took out a package and handed it to (Y/N). (Y/N) beamed and ripped the plastic open. He took a big bite of the cupcake and hummed happily. 

“Ok, you have your cupcake, but I’m still going to make you some scrambled eggs. You need to have some real food in you.” 

“Cupcakes are real food, Samuel. Maybe you’d be happier if you ate one once in a while.” 

“And maybe you’d be happier if you ate healthier.” 

(Y/N) stuck his tongue out at Sam. Sam rolled his eyes and smirked before he walked over to the fridge. Meanwhile, (Y/N) trudged over to the table and sat down. 

“You should probably change your bags soon,” Sam said. 

(Y/N) glanced down at the bags and noticed that they were halfway full. He cursed under his breath. “Let me enjoy my cupcake and then I’ll empty them.” 

“Do you need help?” 

“Nah, I got it, thanks, though.” 

Sam smiled and nodded. Without hesitation, (Y/N) shoved the rest of the cupcake in his mouth, a hum of pleasure emitting from his throat. Sam grimaced and turned away. (Y/N) glanced over at him. 

“Don’t judge me,” he mumbled with a mouthful of food before he stood up and made his way to the bathroom to drain his bulbs.

Three days had passed, and (Y/N) had already started feeling better. His movement had increased, the pain was starting to diminish, and the fluid that filled the bulbs slowed. His mental health had noticeably improved and every time he looked in the mirror, admiring his newly sculpted chest, the smile would never fail to stick to his face for hours on end. One thing that he didn’t like about the recovery process though, something that stayed a consistent issue, was the lack of personal hygiene. 

When his doctor told him that he wouldn’t be able to shower for a while after the procedure, he didn’t think that it would affect him as much as it was. Granted, he still took whore baths, using a damp washcloth and some soap to clean his body off the best that he could, but he could still feel the grime that coated his skin. Specifically, his hair was what bothered him the most. It was wet with grease to the point where it could stand up without any assistance from haircare products. (Y/N) felt disgusting. He needed to get his hair clean, quickly, and he couldn’t do it by himself. If he leaned over too much, the strain on his chest would cause the pain to flair up. He needed help. Sam had been busy researching and assisting other hunters who had called while the brothers were on a break from hunting themselves, so (Y/N) went to the next best person.  

(Y/N) knocked on Dean’s door rhythmically. A faint ‘come in’ sounded from inside. He opened the door to see his brother on his bed, lying on his stomach, eyes glued to the television screen in front of him. 

“Hey,” Dean said with a smile. “How’re you doing, kiddo?” 

“Pretty good. The pain’s not as bad today. I was wondering if you could help me with something, though.” 

“Sure,” Dean reached over, grabbed the remote, and turned off the television. He shifted himself so that he was sitting down on the edge of the bed. “What do you need?” 

“Can you wash my hair for me?” 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to shower yet.” 

“I can’t get my chest wet, but I can clean the rest of my body. I’ve been taking whore baths for the past couple of days, but I haven’t been able to get my hair cleaned. Could you help me with that?” 

Dean hummed and pursed his lips. “Yeah,” he said as he stood up. “Meet me in the bathroom, I’ll be in there in a bit.” 

(Y/N) didn’t wait in the bathroom for long before Dean rounded the corner, a chair dragging behind him. He placed the chair in front of the sink and gestured to it. 

“Sit,” he said. 

(Y/N) awed. “It’s like a trashy hair salon.” 

Dean rolled his eyes and chuckled. He grabbed the shampoo and conditioner from the bathroom cabinet as (Y/N) sat down in the chair. He leaned his head back so that it rested against the cool basin. Dean walked over to the sink and glanced down at his head. He grimaced. 

“Damn, kid, you definitely need to wash that hair.” he reached down and touched a lock of his hair, wincing as he pulled his hand back, studying the sheen that the hair left on his fingers. “Ew.” 

“Thanks,” (Y/N) deadpanned. 

Dean smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you all cleaned up.” 

Dean turned on the hot water, the spout shooting out the liquid into the sink. Dean began to run his fingers through (Y/N)’s hair. (Y/N) instinctively closed his eyes. Dean wet his hair, pouring the water over the locks with his cupped hands. 

(Y/N) could remember the last time he went to the hair salon. He was young, around the age of six, and Bobby had taken him to get his hair done. Even though Bobby seemed uncomfortable the entire time he was there, he wanted to make sure that (Y/N) had a somewhat normal childhood experience. (Y/N) was ecstatic, and enjoyed every minute of the haircut. His favorite part, however, was when the stylist was washing his hair. It was something about the way her fingers caressed his scalp, massaging the product into the roots of his hair, that brought an overwhelming sense of bliss. Dean’s fingers weren’t as gentle and soft as the stylist’s, but he sure knew how to give a good head massage. 

Two fingers gently tapped against the side of (Y/N)’s head. He opened his eyes and looked up at his brother. He hummed in acknowledgment. 

“I said ‘Do you like it’?” Dean repeated, a smirk curled into the corner of his lips. 

(Y/N) slowly nodded. The suds dripped down from the side of his head and caressed the outside of his ear. “Feels nice. You should have gone to cosmetology school.” 

Dean laughed. “I meant your chest. How do you…feel now?” 

“Oh,” (Y/N) let out a short laugh. “Honestly, I feel great. I don’t have to bind anymore, which means I won’t have to worry about hunts and catching my breath. I no longer have to worry about if clothes will fit me because of my chest. I don’t look in the mirror and hate what I see…” his voice trailed. “I look in the mirror and I see me. The me that I was supposed to be.” 

The two of them were silent for a while as Dean poured water over his hair, washing out the soap. His fingers caressed the back of (Y/N)’s scalp, watching intensely as the conditioner ran down the drain. 

“You know, if it makes you feel any better, Sammy and I always saw you as our little brother. I mean, you never really did all that girly crap - makeup, playing with dolls, stuff like that. You were always interested in playing with the mud. The amount of times that you would get in trouble with Bobby because you would bring mudpies into his house, or whenever you would track mud inside when it was raining. He got so pissed,” he chuckled, and (Y/N) joined him. 

“But then you got older,” he continued. “And it started to seem like you weren’t really my brother. But…something wasn’t right. I knew something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Calling you my sister felt wrong. I started calling you my little brother again whenever I told people about you, and then it felt right. When you told us you were transgender, it all made sense to me. It clicked. You never really were my little sister. You were my little brother, just with a few extra parts. Now that you got your surgery, I can see just how happy you are. How comfortable you are, and that means more to me than anything else.” 

The conditioner was gone. (Y/N)’s freshly washed hair laid against the basin. Dean reached over to the cabinet and grabbed out a small hand towel. He ruffled the towel against (Y/N)’s damp hair, making sure to get all of the water off of the side of his face and his ears. When his face was dry, he helped him sit up. 

“And me seeing you like this, I have never felt more proud of you,” Dean concluded. 

(Y/N) glanced up at Dean, brows raised. His wet hair dripped onto his naked shoulder. “Really?” He asked in a quiet voice. 

Dean smiled softly. “Yeah. I’m proud that you told Sam and me how you felt. I’m proud that you got the courage to go through with the surgery, and,” Dean knelt in front of the chair. “I’m proud to call you my baby brother.” 

A lump had formed in (Y/N)’s throat. His eyes glimmered with tears that pooled in their corners. Without saying anything, (Y/N) reached forward and wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, pulling him into a loose embrace. Dean placed his hands on (Y/N)’s back and smiled into the hug. 

“I owe you and Sam so much,” (Y/N) spoke softly. “You guys take such good care of me.” 

“You don’t owe us anything. That’s just what big brothers are supposed to do.” 

“Not even if I bake you a pie?” 

“Now, if you decide to bake a pie, I won’t turn it down,” Dean pulled away and held his hands up. 

(Y/N) sniffled and wiped the tears away. “I should make Sammy one of those fancy salads he likes.” 

“Oh, he’ll go crazy for that,” Dean mumbled. “Him and his damn rabbit food.” 

“You go crazy for pie, though.” 

“Yeah, but pie is good. Actually good.” 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, causing Dean to chuckle. Dean stood up and brushed his jeans off, stretching his arms above his head. 

“What do you say we get Sammy and go watch a movie?” Dean asked. 

(Y/N) smiled. “I’d like that.” 

“Great! You go get Sammy and I’ll get the snacks.” 

Dean turned and jogged out of the room. (Y/N) stood and tilted his neck from side to side, noting the small strain in his muscles. (Y/N) grabbed the back of the chair he had been sitting in, but stopped as he saw himself in the reflection of the small mirror. His eyes scraped over his body, from his head down to his exposed hips. He shifted so that he could see his torso from the side.

It was almost as if he was in a dream. Like, at any moment, he would blink and wake up in his bed with his breasts still attached to his chest. For years, he had been wanting to get top surgery, but it never seemed like something he was able to achieve. Never in his wildest imagination did he see himself standing in front of a mirror and feeling proud of the body that he stood in. He no longer saw the body of a woman, the man he was trapped inside and desperately attempting to claw his way out. He saw a man, who he truly was, the real (Y/N) Winchester. 

And as he stared at his chest, a smile appearing on his lips, the words Dean spoke echoed in his head;

I’m proud to call you my baby brother.

Now, (Y/N) Winchester could confidently say that he was the luckiest man alive.

[ksadvent]

Day 27!

Good morning, December 27! (Or, as some call it in the UK/Oz, National Leftovers Day...) We have art, a poem, and two fics for you today!

Title: This is not a tragedy Author: deliciousblizzardshark Fandom: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Words: 11,265 Chapters: 2 Summary: When Jim collapses after Spock Prime’s death, it seems logical to conclude that he had inadvertently formed a t’hy’la bond with Jim – and that there’s only one way to keep Jim from following his t’hy’la into death. In response to a prompt by museaway. Title: Steeping Starlight Author: ForFucksSakeJim Fandom: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies) Rating: Mature Words: 4,471 Summary: In an attempt to give Jim a perfect gift, Spock spies an intricately made garment labeled “For Someone Special.” And buys it. In response to a prompt by ForFucksSakeJim. Title: KS and McCoy By the Fireplace Artist: SButler Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: In response to a prompt by USS_Queertastic (BoldlyQueertastic): Bones appreciation. With plenty of K/S moments. Title: luck nor fate Author: ForFucksSakeJim Fandom: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Words: 120 Summary: The snow falls Gentle and pure Around us And I map their Trajectory As they find a home Within your hair In response to a prompt by ForFucksSakeJim.

[comically-blu]

Portal Pinecone (2386 words) by stariblu Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Gravity Falls Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bill Cipher/Ford Pines, Ford Pines & Sherman "Shermie" Pines & Stan Pines, Sherman "Shermie" Pines/Original Character(s), Mr. Pines & Sherman "Shermie" Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket & Ford Pines, Sherman "Shermie" Pines/Sherman "Shermie" Pines' Wife Characters: Ford Pines, Sherman "Shermie" Pines, Sherman "Shermie" Pines' Wife, Mr.Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket, Stan Pines, Bill Cipher, Eddie Pines (Mr. Pines), Penelope Woods-Pines (Grandma Pines) Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Older Sibling Sherman "Shermie" Pines, Protective Sherman "Shermie" Pines, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Mystery Trio (Gravity Falls), Bill Cipher Being Bill Cipher, Triangle Bill Cipher, Manipulative Bill Cipher, Bill Cipher is a Little Shit, Major Character Injury, Alternate Universe - Sherman Went Through The Portal, Pansexual Ford Pines, Mullet Stan | Early 1980s Era Stan Pines, 1980s Summary: Taking place in a timeline within the Pine-woods Timeline AU. In a timeline where Shermie takes Ford’s place in the portal. Shermie tries to navigate through the multiverse while Ford and Stan deal with the consequences and prying eyes.

AHAn ks\ finally finished the prologue of Portal Pinecone, starting fluffy with Shermie, Mr. Pines, and just a little of Penelope! totally ignore the start, no bad things happen here j/

[thewinter-eden]

insecurity pt. II / ks texts

Title: Insecurity pt II Genre: fake texts, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort Pairing: idol friend!Seungmin x EXTROVERT fem!reader

Summary: You're one of Stray Kids' social media managers. After all this time, it's impossible not to become friends with some of the nicest people on the planet. But now, as you're starting to feel things for Seungmin, his aloof behavior is a constant reminder that you're just too much for him.

Warnings: mentions of dying, "noona" used, Seungmin being a lil punk, Minho's Insecurity Cameo

notes: as always, thank you @ramadiiiisme for the lovely brainstorming and ideas for this entire series you're the best <3

SS: 26

(ignore timestamps)(continued friend/work dynamics)

Part 1

tag list : @amarecerasus @kumariiai @diekleinesuesse @captainchrisstan @0omillo0 @katexstay @younggwingss @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @feetoffthemalfoy @seungminsapuppy @stilldontknowhoiam @hanadulsetaad @idiotmaterial @micr0c0soms @luvv1anime @imeverycliche @luvv1anime @starygw3n @depressedarlling @riri53 @bangchansgirlsblog @skzstannie @sellomaybe @lailac13 @my-neurodivergent-world @4ng3l-ch1ld @ellelabelle @velvetmoonlght @whokno-ows @ravengxbss @brbwritingfanfic @dearbisky @r1nstaaa @dolphin-scream-s @beewilko @nightshadeblooming @wickedbutlovely @ebnabi @thatgirlangelb @notastraykid @ka0ila @scarlet789 @nightshadeblooming @xdbug-bob @blckchrryy

[sunflowersandthestars]

Sorry I know people like these updates and notices since Trump stopped public communication regarding the FDA and CDC. I could not get this weekend info until I was back at work today. I will break it down below for Saturday and Sunday. It’s been hell today at work trying to figure out what’s going on with the new Canadian and China tariffs, pulled into 50 meetings. Mexico is on pause for 30 days since they reached a preliminary agreement.

FDA Recall/Drug Shortage Roundup Saturday 2/1

Food and Drug Recall summary

DJ’s Boudain LLC Recalls Sausage Link Products Due to Possible Foreign Matter Contamination

WASHINGTON, Jan. 31, 2025 – D.J.’s Boudain, LLC, a Beaumont, Texas, establishment, is recalling approximately 17,720 pounds of boudain sausage link products that may be contaminated with foreign materials, specifically pieces of a pen, the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Food Safety and Inspection Service (FSIS) announced today.

The fresh and frozen boudain sausage link items were produced on January 23, 2025. A list of the products subject to recall can be found here: [view product list]. The labels for the impacted products can be found here: [view labels].

The products subject to recall bear establishment number “EST. 13246” inside the USDA mark of inspection. These items were shipped to distributor, restaurant, and retail locations in Louisiana, Mississippi, and Texas.

The problem was discovered after the establishment received a consumer complaint involving the discovery of a piece of a pen while eating the Original Boudain sausage links product.

There has been one reported oral injury associated with consumption of this product. FSIS has received no additional reports of injury or illness from consumption of these products. Anyone concerned about an injury should contact a healthcare provider.

FSIS is concerned that some product may be in consumers’, retailers’, and restaurants’ refrigerators or freezers. Consumers who have purchased these products are urged not to consume them. Restaurants are urged not to serve these products. These products should be thrown away or returned to the place of purchase.

FSIS routinely conducts recall effectiveness checks to verify recalling firms notify their customers of the recall and that steps are taken to make certain that the product is no longer available to consumers. When available, the retail distribution list(s) will be posted on the FSIS website at www.fsis.usda.gov/recalls.

Consumers and members of the media with questions about the recall can contact Jonathan Wallace, Vice President of Operations at DJ’s Boudain, LLC, at 409-842-0558 ext. 111 or jwallace@djsboudain.com.

Consumers with food safety questions can call the toll-free USDA Meat and Poultry Hotline at 888-MPHotline (888-674-6854) or send a question via email to MPHotline@usda.gov. For consumers that need to report a problem with a meat, poultry, or egg product, the online Electronic Consumer Complaint Monitoring System can be accessed 24 hours a day at https://foodcomplaint.fsis.usda.gov/eCCF/.

Drug shortage summary

(As a reminder, if the drug says it is discontinued it does not necessarily mean that it is gone completely. Many companies produce the same drugs so there may be a relative shortage though.)

No new updates as of 2/1/25 at 10PM EST.

FDA Recall/Drug Shortage Roundup Sunday 2/2

Food and Drug Recall summary

Gerber Products Company Announces Recall and Discontinuation of All Batches of Gerber® Soothe N Chew® Teething Sticks Due To Choking Hazard

Gerber Products Company is initiating a recall and discontinuation of all batches of GERBER® SOOTHE N CHEW® TEETHING STICKS due to a potential choking hazard for babies and young children.

GERBER® SOOTHE N CHEW® TEETHING STICKS were distributed nationwide via the internet and to distribution centers and retail stores in the following states and territories: AL, AR, AZ, CA, CO, CT, DE, FL, GA, HI, IA, ID, IL, IN, KS, KY, LA, MA, MD, ME, MI, MN, MO, MS, MT, NC, NE, NH, NJ, NV, NY, OH, OK, OR, PA, RI, SC, SD, TN, TX, UT, VA, VT, WA, WI and Puerto Rico.

Recalled products can be identified as follows:

GERBER® SOOTHE N CHEW® TEETHING STICKS – STRAWBERRY APPLE, Net Wt. 3.2 Oz (90g), with UPC 0 15000 04618 7, all lot codes

GERBER® SOOTHE N CHEW® TEETHING STICKS – BANANA, Net Wt. 3.2 Oz (90g), with UPC 0 15000 04608 8, all lot codes

GERBER® SOOTHE N CHEW® TEETHING STICKS – BANANA, Net Wt. 1.59 Oz (45g), with UPC 0 15000 01015 7, all lot codes

This recall and discontinuation is isolated to GERBER® SOOTHE N CHEW® TEETHING STICKS – STRAWBERRY APPLE and GERBER® SOOTHE N CHEW® TEETHING STICKS – BANANA.

The recall was initiated after receiving consumer complaints of choking incidents. To date, one emergency room visit has been reported to the firm.

Consumers who may have purchased GERBER® SOOTHE N CHEW® TEETHING STICKS should not feed this product to their child and can return the product to the retailer where it was purchased for a refund. Anyone concerned about an injury or illness should contact a health care provider. For any additional support needed, Gerber is available 24/7 at 1-800-4-GERBER (1-800-443-7237).

(Press Release URL: https://www.nestleusa.com/media/pressreleases/gerber-recalldiscontinuation-soothe-n-chew-teething-sticksExternal Link Disclaimer)

Drug shortage summary

No new updates as of 2/2/25 at 9AM EST.