#i pray if I post it no one clicks on my profile and sees my ugly about

[youreternallover]

I was meant to be doing art for my profile to finally make it aesthetically pleasing to me but then I realised the date so now I’m speed running a birthday art

[fivestar-outlaw]

New Horizons (Park Seonghwa) (Ch.1)

Chapter 1: Turnips

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.0k+

Warning(s): None

A/N: aYO first story on this blog, hello everyone. I hope you enjoy this self-indulgent series. I lub Seonghwa so I knew he had to be the first one posted here.

Reader is implied to be living in the US bc uh TIMEZONES ARE FUCKY and i didnt realize how reliant i was on mine (PST) when looking up KST

Italicized is English, just an fyi

Summary: Attempting an all-nighter while playing Animal Crossing alongside your bias, you didn't expect your turnip prices to be such a high amount... nor did you expect Park Seonghwa to actually accept your offer to sell his turnips on your island.

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You take a small bite of your snack before you made your avatar walk around your island. Seonghwa's livestream was playing in the background and he, too, was playing Animal Crossing. You made sure to stop and talk to the villagers who you came across outside, pull up some flowers before they overwhelmed areas on your island, and dug up some fossils, which you set aside to get assessed later. Right now, you planned on taking your turnips you bought from Daisy Mae to Nook's Cranny. With the help of time travel, your game was set during the day rather than matching the bold 4:40 am on your phone.

It was a chill all-nighter. None of your classes assigned homework over the weekend, you had the weekend off from your part-time job, your roommate was out of town until Sunday... You didn't mind ruining your already rocky sleep schedule to play Animal Crossing along side your bias.

Before you got into Ateez you already had been learning Korean, figuring having a language degree would help you with future careers. You had been a fan of Ateez for awhile. You adored all of their personalities and enjoyed their music, but for some reason you gravitated towards Seonghwa. You then started collecting albums when you had the extra money and made sure to check into their live streams when you could. Seonghwa even pulled you out of your Animal Crossing burn-out too which you were grateful for.

Currently, you finally got your avatar to Nook's Cranny, your turnips in tow. It was the last day to sell and the previous prices were all bellow a hundred bells. So you prayed to the Lord Tom Nook and hoped for good prices. You tapped the check prices and waited eagerly to see how much they would take for the turnips. Your eyes widened when little Timmy answered the prices.

660 bells.

You immediately sell your turnips to them, making a lot of bells in the process. Finally, you could give Tom Nook a sizable amount of money towards your last loan payment.

Seonghwa's voice, sounding frustrated, caught your attention. You looked at the livestream and saw he was holding his switch up. You could make out that his turnip prices were a mere 34 bells and he mentioned the prices have been like that for him all week.

"That sucks." You murmured to yourself.

For the hell of it you quickly type up in chat that you'll let him come sell his turnips and added the price being offered. You saw how fast the chat was going but you decided to tempt fate. After double-checking for any spelling errors you hit send.

The chat stuttered for a bit, your message right in the middle. You figured it was on your end but then you saw Seonghwa's eyes widen and watched as he scrambled to touch something on his phone. He spent a few moments typing and then hesitating on whatever he just did. You heard him sigh, tapping his phone before setting it down off screen in front of him.

Then, you saw a notification pop up on your end. Curiously, you opened it and when you did, your eyes nearly popped from your head.

Seemed as though Seonghwa, through the Ateez account, direct messaged you.

'Can I sell my turnips after stream?' It read. You immediately go and click the profile, just in case it was someone trying to pull your leg. All that did was lead you back to the official account. You tried it again a few more times just in case but it was the same result.

Seonghwa actually messaged you.

You could hardly contain your excitement coursing through your veins. You took a deep breath, switched your phones keyboard over to Hangul and carefully typed up your response despite your shaking hands. You had to pause several times on what to say but after a few minutes you responded.

'Sure! Just let me know when I should open my island and I can send you a code. I apologize for any mistakes in this message. I figure it would be more comfortable for you ^^.'

You hit send and put your focus purely on the livestream, your game forgotten about. You watched as a few moments passed by and saw Seonghwa glance towards his phone. A small smile grew on his face as his eyes trailed back to his game.

You focused back on yours. You got those fossils assessed (all were ones you already had), visited Brewster, found a gyoird, and stopped by at Marshal's house. You still cringe at how you accidentally told him yes when he asked to move. You caught it too late and the game saved the decision. Your little squirrel you spent hours island hopping for was leaving.

"I'll miss you buddy." You sigh to yourself as he told you he'll miss the island. None of your friends still played nor had space on their islands to save him for you. Maybe Nookaz-

"Yes!" You heard Seonghwa exclaim and you glance back over to his stream. "Cephalobot wants to move." He had such a big grin on his face as he proceeded to tell the robotic octopus villager to move. You couldn't help but smile along with him before focusing back on your island.

About an hour passed when Seonghwa said goodbye to the stream, making a heart with his hands, before shutting it off. You stifle a yawn and grab your phone, bringing up the messages between you and the offical Ateez account. You weren't sure if you were to message first or if you should wait for him to message you. You stood up from your chair and stretch your limbs, hearing a few satisfying pops.

You glance down at your phone and promptly sit back down.

'Ready when you are.'

You smile and start heading to your airport to get a code for him when you passed Marshal's home. You stopped your avatar when an idea popped into your mind. You picked up your phone and quickly typed up a message.

'If you don't mind time jumping to get an empty spot on your island and don't mind swapping friend codes, I have Marshal ready to move if you want him. I accidentally said yes when he asked to move. Only if you want to of course. :)'

You hit send, took a deep breath of air, and looked away from your phone, too nervous to see his reply.

"The worst he will say is no. And understandably so." You say to yourself under your breath. You didn't want to even look at the message but decided to calm your nerves. You turn back to your phone and saw he messaged you back.

'That would be great. Thank you, Atiny. Give me a few more minutes please.' You then saw he sent his friend code.

"Okay, what the hell?" You couldn't believe it. "I guess he really is serious about this game." You chuckled and pressed the home button. You typed in his friend code, making use of the Switch's touch screen and sent him a friend request.

You saw you were immediately added back. You take another deep breath and open your game back up. You went to your airport and opened the gates up for friends. You let your avatar stand idle as you waited. You figured he'd have to time travel a day to get Cephalobot in boxes and then travel again to have an empty plot for Marshal.

You got up from your spot and quickly got a drink of water. You couldn't stop the yawn escaping past you lips, the lack of sleep is starting to hit. You quickly return to your couch and plug your switch back into the dock since the battery was getting low and grab your controllers, the game appearing on your TV screen now. You unlock your phone and opted to lay on your side on the couch, viewing the new message Seonghwa sent.

'Almost ready. Hopping back on now.' His message read.

'Gates are open :)'

A minute passed when you got the notification a friend was arriving to your island. After the little animation finished you see his avatar walk into the airport. You quickly do a little wave and walk out, seeing he is following. You lead him to your Nook's Cranny and wait outside as he goes in to sell his turnips. You simply wait outside so you could take him to Marshal next when you see another message pop up.

'Can I buy the cabinet?'

'Go ahead. I am outside and will take you to Marshal when you are done.' You smile and do nothing to stop another yawn from escaping.

A few moments pass and his avatar walks out of the store. He stays still for a moment before he does the little 'joy' reaction, which you return. You then start heading to Marshal's home with Seonghwa in tow. If sudden tiredness hadn't washed over you, you'd probably much more outwardly excited.

You finally get to Marshal's home and watch as Seonghwa's avatar enter; you opted to stay outside again. Another yawn left you and you had to blink a few times to keep your eyes open.

"I'm just not built for all-nighters anymore..." You mumbled to yourself. You realized sitting up may help keep you awake, but you were just too damn comfortable laying down as you were. Your eyes droop but you were trying your best to stay awake to see him off your island.

You hear the door in game open and close and see Seonghwa's avatar leave. He did another joy reaction and stayed like that for a moment. You get on your phone again and saw he had sent a message.

'Thank you again, Atiny <3 your island is cute.'

'You're welcome, Seonghwa'

You watch as his avatar heads back into the direction of your airport, though, you did not stay awake long enough to hear your game let you know that a friend has left the island.

---

You woke up about eight hours later feeling like you were hit by a car. You couldn't tell where you were for a moment, what time it was, what year it was,and your stomach ached with hunger. Finally, your eyes fully adjusted to being awake, though you didn't have the energy yet to lift yourself up off what you know realized was your couch.

You lay there contemplating life, cursing your past self for trying to do an all-nighter. You glance around and saw your Switch controller and phone on the floor. You then look to your TV and saw it was off. You had a half drank glass of water on the coffee table and an almost finished snack.

You finally sat up, making sure to stretch your limbs. You felt more awake now. You pick up your phone and curse at the low battery life. Quickly you unlocked it and then nearly dropped your phone, the messages between you and the official Ateez account were still open.

You played Animal Crossing with Seonghwa.

You played Animal Crossing with Park Seonghwa.

You take a deep breath to calm every emotion hitting you and get up to turn your Switch back on. You grab the controller and immediately look to your friends list.

He still had you added.

"Should I unfriend him...? He didn't unfriend me but..." You sighed. You go in and change the time and date to match real life before opening the game up. You quickly press through the usual Isabelle announcements.

When your avatar exited the house you noticed you had in game mail. You figured it was probably a goodbye letter from Marshal. You had your avatar open the mailbox and to your surprise, Seonghwa had sent you a letter and a present.

'Thank you again for letting me sell my turnips and for letting me have Marshal. Let's send gifts!'

You favorite the letter and take the present. You opened it and felt immediate excitement. He sent you a piece of artwork you knew you for sure didn't have for the museum. You could barely contain your excitement at the prospect of being Animal Crossing buddies with Seonghwa.

[vasito-de-leche]

A short (or not) ramble of scenarios and questions for reverse: 1999 self aware. (sorry if this bothers you, I just don’t have enough confidence to post it on my own blog (plus I love your content))

- Okay so first of all, in the main page of the game, when you click on the upper left corner with your level and username, you go to a screen with Vertin looking fly as ever along with some user information.

So if Vertin can see the game’s ui, then she can see the year in which the player has joined the game (2023-2024). I haven’t dived deep into Vertin’s character so I can’t portray her reaction to much, but I feel like she would tell this info to someone close like Sonetto.

Also our motto: I put “When in a rush, say ‘runs in high heels cutely.’”. I’d be so embarrassed if anyone (even fictional sentient characters) saw that. Like im dead.

On that topic, when you mentioned in your Sonetto self aware post that she can sometimes see us, and honestly, I’d be even more embarrassed. Cause like, if any of the characters from games I played, were sentient and could see me, id pray they didn’t see my bad angle. Like imagine looking up to the sky to see, just for a second, the chin of a head as the hands go to scratch their nose. Like the first impressions I would make.

- P2p players. Imagine the player spending money on the game (at the risk of Vertin possibly seeing their credit card number) to help level up or get costumes for their fave characters.

(Some misc. questions)

-what would happen if player didn’t log in the game for a while (a week to a month as best) cause I would ditch some games to spend more time on others

- What does Vertin think of the mail messages that the player gets? Like the latest mail I got was the discord event invitation. Upon closer inspection and critical thinking, it would hint that there would be more players other than us because it says the winners get 60 clear drops (oh and money too)

- If I remember correctly, I think you mentioned about Vertin hearing the player sometimes. So imagine her hearing us trash talk certain character *cough* Constantine *cough*.

(Anyways, I love your content ❤️ especially your fmn headcanons, can’t wait to see more posts!!)

;R1999 - Self-Aware AU (2)

Answering some questions and discussing the Self-Aware AU. A follow up of this post.

not a bother at all, you bring up really good questions and details that are fun to explore! I'm glad you like my stuff, have a nice day o7!

On the subject of Vertin seeing the player's profile.

With the way I intended to portray Vertin within the AU, I don't think she would be affected by the date on the Player's profile!

This is the date you came into contact with her from your perspective, whatever time and space that flows within your world, not hers─the world behind the fourth barrier that she cannot see nor hear nor even fathom, let alone try to make sense of. In a way, it's like expecting ants to care about concepts we made up, such as time. They understand night and day, they do not understand 3PM nor 8AM.

Is it truly proof that time can go beyond 1999, when this is something that only she can see? When it doesn't affect a single thing within her universe by being part of a game menu meant for your eyes only? There's also the fact that she finds out the proper time of the world in the 1.4 update, in Chapter 05.

Her dynamic with the Player is something I like to keep vague, so that everyone can fill in the blanks, but ultimately it is something so complex and private for Vertin─who sees it as a one-sided relationship, since she cannot hear nor see you, unlike other arcanists who may reach the 100% bond─that I don't think she would talk about it with anyone, not even Sonetto! The name on your profile and whatever message you've written there are secrets she will take to her grave. The idea of Vertin being the eyes and hands of the Player, but having no way to truly see or hear them makes for a really fun concept to explore!

And on the subject of messages, let's be honest, if you've written something funny or some modern shitpost, chances are she won't understand it LMFAO so it's okay! I literally just have my socials and "men enjoyer" listed there.

Oh! But since you brought it up, the message section could be a fun, little way to communicate with Vertin, since she can read what's on there!

As for P2P players, Vertin wouldn't see any information from the Player's credit card since that's something that happens outside the app lolol. Like, to me, it directly opens to google play transaction stuff.

On the subject of the player dropping the game for long periods of time.

Hmm, in the first post I said that there might be characters ouside Vertin and her suitcase who may be self-aware, with their own goals and such. But nothing truly "matters" unless the Player is there to witness it. So to keep including these possibilities and details, I feel like there's two options, pick whichever you like the most!

One, time continues as usual within the game─but once it reaches an important date where the plot is meant to kick in with some important event, it simply resets back to where you left it. This is a world that exists outside of your perception, but cannot continue without you.

Two, time freezes entirely within the game─but only for those who are not self-aware. Keep in mind we're talking about long periods of time, this wouldn't happen if you log in every day, or every few days. This is what happens when your phone picks up the fact that Reverse: 1999 is one of the unused apps taking up space in your phone. This is a world that stops existing once you stop looking at it.

In both options, the Wilderness would remain unaffected as it seems to be entirely disconnected from the flow of time and space outside of it.

On the subject of the game's mail.

Since the messages auto-delete and all, I can't check but I'm pretty sure Vertin receives mail too? There were a few ones from a few characters a while back like Druvis III or An-an Lee, and I think the implication is that they were vaguely addressing Vertin?

If someone has screenshots and can confirm this, please let me know!

Either way, the easy answer is that yeah, she knows this is a game, so she could make the assumption that there's more players. She has access to your friend list, after all! And even if you don't have anyone added, the fact that it exists is enough for her to start connecting the dots.

I don't remember saying that Vertin can hear the Player, though! I think I was pretty consistent with her not being able to see nor hear you, to have the Player as some sort of eldritch, unknowable entity. But I also write so much stuff in this blog that it's hard to keep up sometimes lolol, if I've mentioned somewhere that Vertin can hear the player, it was a mistake!

[andreafmn]

Running in Circles | Chapter 9

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss, and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

A/N: can't believe it's been over a year since I updated this story. It was one of the first I ever posted but quickly got disheartened by it as I tried to follow the show's timeline (which is non-existent, honestly). I'm trying to get through season 6 as fast as I can because I've already written chapters for afterward, but I need to tie it into the show. Honestly considered putting the story on hold but I got the chapter done 😊😊 Also need to go back and edit this story, especially regarding the POV

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As if by divine intervention, (Y/N)’s phone started ringing. The vibrations matched the fluttering of her heart as she prayed that Hotch could have been thinking about her at that moment as well. Maybe then she could trick herself into believing that fate was playing its cards right.

“Hey, baby girl.”

“Derek,” she sighed quietly, trying her best not to voice her disappointment. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“You mind some company for tonight? I got a bottle of whiskey with our names on it.”

“Know what? After the day we just had, sure.” She looked down at the pan of lasagna and decided if she couldn’t enjoy it with Hotch, she’d enjoy it with a friend. “I’ve got some lasagna going in the oven we can eat.”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.”

After the phone clicked, she decided the most prudent thing would be to send Hotchner a text message thanking him for the food and saying she’d update him on everything tomorrow. After everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, she needed a moment of calm and clarity. A moment with certainty rather than mixed signals and stolen glances. She just needed a moment to breathe.

As any evidence of the day shed from her skin in the shower, a loud knock rang through the house. She quickly stepped out of her bathroom and slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie before she ran down the stairs to be met with Derek already inside the kitchen, digging a fork into the piping hot lasagna, with Spencer staring at our friend as he ate like a maniac.

“You know, if you let it cool down a bit, you can savor the taste,” Reid chuckled.

“I know,” he spoke with a full mouth. “But I wanna get drunk tonight, and I won’t do it on an empty stomach.”

“There’s some garlic bread in the toaster oven if you need something that will soak up the alcohol,” (Y/N) laughed as her two friends came into view in her kitchen. “And it’s good to see you’re putting those emergency keys to good use.”

“Sorry, (Y/N),” Spencer responded quickly. “Derek said you wouldn’t mind. We waited five minutes outside.”

“It’s fine, Reid. But you could’ve checked who was at the door.”

“Well, I didn’t want to overstep,” he shrugged. “It’s not my house after all.”

“Good to know you have boundaries, Reid,” she chuckled. “Not that they stopped either of you from letting yourselves in.”

Derek only grumbled in response, too focused on serving the plates and stuffing his mouth. (Y/N) headed to the front door, unsure of who else could have decided to drop by. And though a part of her wanted it to be Hotchner, she knew better than to live in that delusion. He was back in his home with his son, while she had a house full of friends and him on her mind.

“‘Em,” the woman smiled as she opened the door. “Derek invite you too?”

“As a matter of fact, he did. But I’m guessing he didn’t tell you I was coming over.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t use your emergency key as freely as those two boys.”

“Well, you did say we should feel at home,” Morgan grinned. “I’m just doing what you told me to.”

“First time you follow the rules, Morgan,” Emily teased. “Although I’d rather you guys break into (Y/N)’s house than mine.”

“Geez, thanks, Em,” she chuckled. “You’re lucky there’s enough food and booze to go around. But don’t go too crazy. We still have work tomorrow.”

“As if you’d ever let us go hungry,” Emily laughed. “Your Italian blood would never let you.”

“All I need to know is if there’s anyone else that will show up out of the blue.”

“Not that I know of,” Derek shrugged. “Now open up that bottle, I’m thirsty.”

By the time midnight rolled around, Emily and Derek had gone back home. They had eaten enough and drank enough the exhaustion was making their eyelids flutter. And all of them knew that the longer they stayed, the harder it would be to make it back to their homes. Only Spencer was left, curled up on the sofa, still nursing the same glass of whiskey from the start of the night. His eyes were squeezed shut, a hand over them blocking the overhead light.

“You okay, Spence?” (Y/N) asked as she sat by his head, resting it gently onto her lap. She ran her fingers through his curls, massaging his scalp softly. “You got a migraine?”

“Something like that,” he sighed. “They’ve been going on for a bit, but lately, they’ve been worse. The pain is unbelievable, and it makes me sensitive to everything around me.”

“Have you gone to a doctor? This could be something serious, Spence,” she worried. “I have a friend that might be able to squeeze you in. She’s a neurologist and…”

“I’ve got it handled, (Y/N),” he chuckled softly. “I made an appointment for later in the week. I just have to power through the remaining days with sunglasses and pills.”

As soon as he mentioned the pain, a question popped into (Y/N)’s head that she did not want to ask. It was composed of words that could only bring back horrors from his past and the mistakes he was still paying for to that day. The last thing she wanted was to resurface that horrible period, but she had to know. For his sake, she just had to.

“I haven’t taken Dilaudid,” he said before she could speak. “It hasn’t even crossed my mind.”

“How did you…?”

“You were thinking too loud,” he responded as he grinned slightly, his eyes still closed. “And you’re the only one that still asks.”

“I’m sorry, Spence. I don’t mean to be so pushy, she sighed as she stared at the way her fingers ran through the brown of his hair. “If you don’t want time to ask, just…”

“No. I’m grateful that you do.” His free hand searched for hers, squeezing it softly as he enjoyed the warmth of her skin. “I sometimes feel that the team goes out of their way to pretend that part of my life didn’t happen or that it could never happen again. But it did, and it could. Still, I know I can always count on you to look after me, (Y/N). Even if I’m a couple of years older than you, you always find a way to take care of me.”

“And I always will, Reid. You’re a part of my family, and I take care of my family,” she responded softly. “Do you wanna stay here tonight? If it’s too bad, I don’t want you driving out there in the dark.”

“Honestly? Yeah,” Spencer breathed. “I don’t think I could make it home right now.”

“Alright, then. Why don’t you head on up and take a shower while I prepare you some tea and get you a cold compress for your head?” (Y/N) instructed. “You can take any of the sweats from the guest room, and I’ll fetch you some migraine pills so you can hopefully get some shut-eye tonight.”

“Thanks, Rossi,” the man smiled, finally allowing his eyes to open, finding that she had dimmed all the lights. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“And you’ll never have to find out,” she smiled. “Now, go on upstairs, and I’ll get started on the tea.”

“Fine,” he jokingly whined. “And can you not tell anyone else? I don’t want them worrying about me.”

“I won’t. Just, please keep me updated.”

“Copy that.”

As he disappeared to the second floor, (Y/N) couldn’t help but worry about her friend. Spencer had gone through things that were unimaginable. And though he came out of them with his life, they had slowly started to eat away at him. She knew firsthand just how debilitating anxiety could be to someone’s body, and it concerned her that he was downplaying his symptoms.

She set her kettle to boil as she searched for her own mixture of sleepy-time tea—chamomile, lemongrass, peppermint, and lavender. From her cupboard, she pulled out the purple and blue mug Spencer had always used since he had claimed it was able to keep his tea warm enough to sip slowly. Because apparently it had always been a big concern of his. After placing the tea infuser into the mug, she drizzled a few circles of honey to the bottom and a sprinkle of cinnamon. And once the kettle beeped, she drowned the leaves and the honey in boiling water.

(Y/N) could hear the shower running upstairs as she let the tea seep into the water, and all she could do was worry. Granted, it was something she did every single day of her life. She worried about her father spending all his time in books and his work and not enough on his personal life. She worried about little Jack having to grow up without his mother and a dad who didn’t quite believe he could do a good job as a father. She worried about Hotch, about what he did or didn’t feel. She worried about the team every time they went out on a case. And most importantly, she worried about herself and how she would ever live up to the people around her. Now, she added Spencer’s migraines to the list. If she ever made it to old age without a heart attack, she would have been very surprised.

Walking up the stairs with the mug and the pills, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She balanced the mug on the flat handrail and pulled out the device to see Hotchner’s name lighting up the screen. Her heart hammered against her chest, making her hands tremble with nerves. It was just a phone call., she told herself. He was probably only calling to thank her again.

“Hotch,” she breathed, her voice croaking more than she intended. “Hey.”

“Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“No!” she answered quickly. “I was just heading up the stairs. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, you don’t need to worry,” he assured. “It’s just that Jack wanted to say goodnight and thank you.”

“Isn’t it a bit late for him to be up?” (Y/N) smiled. “I mean, it is still a school night.”

“I caved,” Hotch chuckled. She could hear the exhaustion still present in his voice, and all she wanted to do was help him. It was all she could do. To him, she’d always be just a friend, a coworker, his colleague’s daughter. “Please don’t hold it against me.”

“I could never,” the woman laughed. “I would have probably caved too.”

“Well, then, I’ll put you on.”

(Y/N) heard scuffling from the receiver before Jack’s voice came through. “Hi, (Y/N),” he said. “I wanted to say goodnight since we couldn’t say goodbye to you. I had a lot of fun this weekend.”

“Aw, buddy, I’m glad,” she cooed. “I loved having you over. You know you’re welcome any time.”

“Thank you, (Y/N)!” he beamed. “But I gotta go to bed now. I have school tomorrow. So, goodnight!”

“Good night, Jack,” she responded. “Now, why don’t you pass the phone back to your dad.”

“Alright. Bye bye!”

“Bye, Jack,” she chuckled. “I think that kid should be heading off to bed now, Hotch.”

“He is,” Hotchner answered. “I knew he’d want to after saying good night to you. I think my son likes you more than he likes me.”

“Oh, that’s nonsense, Hotch. He only likes that I’m all fun. But he loves you. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” he chuckled softly. “I’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

“Even when you don’t have to,” the woman sighed contentedly. “Now, go on. You have to sleep too. It’s not just Jack that is up past his bedtime.”

“Very funny, (Y/N). Good night.”

“Night, Hotch.”

(Y/N)’s chest wrenched as her heart accelerated, already wishing the days before could repeat themselves so she could wake and know that he was there. But there was no point in deluding herself. The man could not and would not ever see her as anything more than what she already was. Even their job would allow it. Nothing seemed to ever align for something between them to work.

She turned to the left once she reached the top of the stairs and headed to the guest room to leave the steaming mug for Spencer to find after his shower but found him already sitting on the bed drying his hair. “Was that Hotch on the phone?” She nodded in response. “You didn’t tell him about what’s going on with me, right?”

“Of course not, Spence,” she said in a low tone as she set the mug on the nightstand. “It’s not my information to divulge. Unless it becomes life-threatening, I won’t say a thing without your permission.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she smiled, handing him the pills. “Anything.”

“What do you think these migraines could be?” The pain behind his eyes was more than visible, it was almost palpable. “I just… what if it’s something serious, (Y/N)?”

“Serious like what, Spence?”

“What if I’m starting to lose my mind?” His voice was frail, trembling at the terrifying thought. “You know, my mom…”

“Don’t go there, Spencer. You can’t go there,” the woman insisted. “We won’t speculate until you have an answer from the doctor. So, I’m begging you, don’t go there.”

“I can’t help it, (Y/N). Either there’s something seriously physically wrong with me, or it’s all psychosomatic. Neither is a good option.”

“I know, Spence. I know. But let’s just not jump to conclusions yet. Not until you’ve gone to the doctor, and we get some type of answer. Until then, I don’t want you to think of the worst-case scenario. It’s not gonna do you any good.”

“Fine,” he sighed as his shoulders slumped forward. “Can I ask you something else? Something that is so off-topic you’ll get whiplash.”

“Go ahead, Reid,” she chuckled softly.

“Do you still have feelings for Hotch?”

The question as innocent, no ill-will behind it. But it still made (Y/N)’s breath hitch in her throat. It had been a long time since any of the people they knew mentioned her less-than-secret infatuation with the unit chief, and it made her heart race like the first time he had confronted her about it. “Yeah,” she muttered. “It’s not something that’s going away any time soon.”

“Have you ever thought of dating someone else? It might help you get over him.”

“I might not be ready for that just yet,” she sighed. “I just can’t seem to stop holding onto hope.”

“I understand. Love… it’s hard, huh?”

“It’s one thing we can’t learn from all the books we read,” she smiled sadly. “But that’s enough talk. The pills should start to work soon, and you need to sleep.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” he smiled as he got under the covers. “Thank you for caring.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that, Spence. Again, you’re family,” she grinned. “I’ll see you in the morning, alright?”

“Yeah. Good night.”

“Good night, Reid.”

The rest of the night, Spencer’s words floated in her head. She could open her dating pool and allow herself a little venture. Hotch wasn’t waiting for her, nor had he shown a smidge of real interest in her. Holding onto him only hurt her in the long run, making it harder for anyone else who wanted to take the place he did not want. But she couldn’t. Not now. Not just yet.

After a couple of days and a two-night case all the way in Miami, Spencer asked (Y/N) to accompany him to the doctor for the reading of his test results. He was jumpier than usual, his legs bouncing at a rapid speed as they waited for his name to be called. He figured with his fingers, picking at the skin on the corners until she placed her hand on top.

“You won’t have any skin left for our next case,” she chuckled. “Don’t start jumping to conclusions, Mr. Genius.”

“I can’t help it,” he worried. “It’s all I can do. I can’t just shut off my brain.”

“Then, tell me something. Something I might not know.”

“Easier said than done,” he snorted. “You know almost as much as I do.”

“Ah, you said almost as much. So, you believe there are things that you know that I don’t.”

“Okay,” he chuckled. “Did you know that rubber bands last longer if they’re kept in the fridge? The unusual, lightly cross-linked polymer structure of the rubber used to create them react to the cold differently to what people might expect…”

“Right, the chains heat up when stretched, technically shortening them causing the rubber to contract and eventually snapping at the exothermic change,” she mused. “Cooling them would allow for a bigger stretch and life longevity because the release of energy is slower. Nice fact.”

“See, it’s not as fun with you,” he said with a soft chuckle. “The team would have been asking why I would care about rubber bands. You? You go into a simple explanation of thermodynamics.”

“Well, I ask you for a fun fact. I never said I wouldn’t analyze it.”

As Spencer was about to retort, a nurse came out to call his name, telling him the doctor would see him. He got up onto his feet, smoothing down his pants and taking a steadying breath. But he didn’t seem to do more.

“Do you want me to go with you?” (Y/N) quickly offered.

She was met with a soft smile and a gentle nod before they both headed into the office where Spencer’s worst-case scenario unfolded. The doctor told him there was nothing he could see that was physically wrong with him, the scans and the lab work all came back negative. If there was something happening, it was most likely in his head.

Those were the news Spencer did not want. They terrified him, and he let the doctor know. In his own way. “It’s not—I’m not crazy.”

“Crazy? Dr. Reid, I’m not saying…”

“I have headaches. I have intense sensitivity to light. Because there’s something wrong with me,” he asserted, his words spilling out faster than he could hold them. “Physically, not mentally. It’s not that.”

“That?”

“Listen, doctor, my mother’s a paranoid schizophrenic who’s been institutionalized. So I know very well what mental illness looks like,” Spencer continued. “Maybe even better than you, and it’s not that. It’s not.”

“Reid,” (Y/N) called as the man got up from the exam table and left the doctor with a shocked expression on his face. “I am so sorry, doctor. This topic is just… it’s a little hard for him.”

“There’s not much you can do to help someone who doesn’t want to accept their reality,” the doctor sighed softly. “Can you just see that he finds a way to manage his stress and his emotions? I truly believe this might be one of the biggest reasons for these headaches.”

“I’ll try my best, doctor,” (Y/N) smiled. “Thank you for seeing him.”

“No problem.”

She found Spencer waiting for her in the hall, his sunglasses on his eyes and his arms crossed in front of his chest. They remained in silence until they reached her car, the doctor’s pout evident on his face. She knew he was annoyed she had apologized for his behavior, but she couldn’t leave without at least giving a reason for his outburst.

“It’s not psychosomatic,” he stated. “It just can’t be.”

“Spence, we have one of the most stressful jobs on the planet. Day in and day out we see cases that astound even the most seasoned officers. And we get into the minds of the people that commit these atrocities,” she offered. “Don’t you think there is a possibility that these migraines are your body’s way of telling you that you need to balance yourself out?”

“If it was really the job like you say, all of us would be getting these headaches,” he said angrily. “But I don’t see Morgan or Prentiss doubling over because their brain feels like it wants to escape their skull.”

“Everyone is different, Spence. And I know you don’t need me to tell you this. Stress presents itself differently in everyone. Just because we don’t know how they handle their burdens doesn’t mean they don’t have them,” (Y/N) continued, maintaining the same calm tone as she cooled him down. “All I am saying, Reid, is that it might be psychosomatic, and you need to find new ways to handle your stress because I am certain this is not you going crazy. Or it might be something else, and you’ll need to get a second opinion. But regardless of what the outcome is, you can’t just get angry at your doctor because you don’t like your results, and I’ll be with you every step of the way. We’ll find you a way through this, okay?”

His stance finally softened at her words. His arms fell to his sides, and a soft smile tugged at his lips. “I was kind of an ass back there,” he chuckled. “It’s just frustrating and terrifying all the same time, and I don’t know how to process it all.”

“We take it one day at a time, Reid,” she smiled, taking a hand of his in hers. “You’re not alone in this.”

“It’s sometimes hard to remember that you’re you get than me,” he snickered. “I’m pretty sure you’ve babied everyone on the team at some point.”

“What can I say?” she laughed. “I just wanna make sure every single one of you is okay.”

And that was one thing she knew she would do for as long as they would let her. For now, her main concern was Spencer’s well-being. And she was grateful that it was enough to keep Hotchner out of her head.

Next ->

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[icanbeyourjedi-writes]

Interview with a Vampire A Max Phillips One-Shot

Summary: Reader is sick, a curled up on the sofa while Max is at work, little did she know he'd surprise her coming home early while 'Twilight' is on TV Words: 1962 Rating: E for EVERYONE --Its a lot of fluff- Warnings/Triggers: Max is a vampire, he's kinda of an asshole, but its mostly fluffy, mentions of the movie Twilight, mention of sex and God...nothing really to bad. No mentions of reader descriptions, but it is written in first person from a female.

It's Friday the 13th it felt like a good day to share a Max Phillips story, something I wrote quickly to help get out of my writers block. And thanks to @musings-of-a-rose-writes for reading it before I posted ;)

**Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. **

The perks of being sick, besides the fact I don’t have to go to work. I get to snuggle into my boyfriend's old Princeton hoodie while having my lower half burrioted in a fuzzy blanket. I’m laying on the way over-priced leather couch that he just had to have. “It’s classy sweetheart, and I am a classy man," he had said when the delivery guys dropped it off in his great room. I’m warm in the little cocoon I’ve created and my eyes slowly close and I drift off for yet another nap. 

My senses start to come too when I feel the fuzzy fabric moving, the feeling of his large hand rubbing the soft fabric up and down my calves that are now draped over his lap. I slowly blink awake, glancing at the wall clock on the far wall, it’s too early for him to be home. The sun has just started to descend. I stare at his sharp profile. The strong jaw, his Romanesque nose, and those pouty lips. Those lips that should be a sin to be able to kiss. I mean, technically they are a sin. He is a sin. He is the definition of sinful. 

I turn my head seeing that Twilight happened to be the movie playing. His eyes focused on the images moving in front of him. He hated vampire movies, always complaining about how Hollywood portrays them. I see the remote sitting on the coffee table, in the same spot I left it. I lean forward reaching for it when his hand snatches it before I can even lift my arm. 

“Now, baby girl…” he says, smirking and raising an eyebrow looking at me, “Bella is just about to tell Eddie boy what he is”

Maximus Phillips, senior sales manager, my boyfriend…and a vampire. Now you see, dating my boss was never part of my plans. And dating a vampire definitely wasn’t on my life BINGO card, but here we are. 

“Max, give me the remote” I sniffle, sitting up and pulling my legs away from him

“But this is the best part” he puts his arm around me, pulling me close, rubbing his nose along my neck before placing a kiss to my pulse point

He is trying to distract me, and god damn it…it’s working. He sucks on the delicate skin he can reach. His hand sliding up my arm, his fingers grip at the material and pull it out of his way. A little nip has me meaning his name. “Mmmm Maaaax”, he nips at my skin again, and I feel him smile. Knowing Max it is probably more of a smirk. His hand slides around my throat, keeping me in place “shit foooooocmmmcus” I think, as I wrap my fingers around his wrist 

“I know what you are”

“What are we baby girl?” Max asks, he sharp teeth grazing against my skin

My free hand grips his thigh, waiting for him to sink his fangs into me. “A vampire…” I say in unison with the movie. 

“That’s right” he presses his lips against my skin

I open my eyes and see remote sitting next to him, I slide my fingers up, lacing them with his.  I run my hand up his thigh, leaning into him more. Hoping and praying that he is still laser focused on my neck. My hand flies from his leg to reach for the remote. Before I can even realize what happened he is sitting on the lazy-boy, remote in hand. Almost teasing me with it. 

“You gotta be quicker than that baby girl” he smirks. Turning his attention back to the movie. 

“Max, please.  Can we just watch something else” I beg 

I watch Max, he throws his head back in laughter shaking his head as Edward sparkles in the sunlight. “This is the skin of a killer” the TV says,  he laughs at that even harder. “This movie is full of lies” 

“Aren’t they all?” I groan. I knew this was going to happen, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. But really this is all his fault, he came home early 

“I don’t fucking sparkle in the sunlight, in fact I don’t know a single vampire that does” 

“Well yeah, because you turn into a pile of dust” I smile at him

“How many bad vampire movies have you seen?” He questions, taking off his dark charcoal suit jacket, setting it over the armrest “I don’t turn into a pile of dust, and I don’t catch on fire either”

“The daylight ring protects that” I watch as he stands, undoing the knot I’m his red tie, and pulling it from around his neck.  He drops it into my lap, walking to the covered floor to ceiling windows on the far side of the room, “Max…Max, what are you doing?” 

“Showing you what happens to me in the sunlight” pushing a few buttons on the wall, the dark blinds begin to rise, letting the setting sunlight fill the room. 

He starts to unbutton his white dress shirt. He stands in the middle of the windowsl, letting the sun hit his entire body.  My eyes are locked on to him. His fingers slowly finish unbuttoning his shirt, “now sweetheart, I want you to watch…” he slides the silver ring off his finger. It makes a clink when it hits the hardwood floor beneath him. 

“Max, don’t…you don’t have to do this” 

I honestly have no idea what is going to happen. I mean he wouldn’t put himself in danger of melting, burning, turning into dust or wax..no wait that’s a witch. He gives a wicked small, while he lets the shirt fall to the ground. I sit and wait, and watch. He’s right…nothing happened. No sparkles, no smoke, no turning to dust. 

“I told you baby girl, nothing was going to happen to Daddy” he smirks.

“Don’t call yourself that, it’s weird” I say, watching as he bends down to pick up his ring. He slides it back on his finger before picking up his shirt. There’s a faint glimmer from where the sun was hitting his back. I cough, trying to hold back my laughter. I end up coughing harder than I probably should have. 

Max is sitting next to me in the blink of an eye. A hand rubbing up and down my back. “Sweetheart, are you ok? Baby?”

“I’m…cough..ok” I get out finally 

Max pulls me close, pulling my legs over his lap as I snuggle into his chest. The sun had warmed him slightly.  He was never ice cold to the touch but his body was always cooler than mine. Never even breaking a sweat when we fooled around. I turn my head up to look at him, I barely open my mouth “and no, I can’t read your mind” I swear I could almost hear his eye roll

“But, you just did” I smile, resting my head on his chest, “the movie does have one thing right”

“That we vampire’s are incredibly sexy” 

It’s my turn to roll my eyes. Confidence was something he didn’t lack. Nope, not one bit. Maximus Phillips knew he was attractive and he made sure everyone knew it too “it’s part of my charm” he would always say. I lace my fingers with his and set them on my lap. “I was going to say moody…” I grin turning my head to look at him, “but, sure sexy weeks too”

He frees his hand from mine, tucking his fingers under my jaw tilting my head up. He slowly brings my lips towards his. His eyes looking into mine, his tongue darting outs, quickly wetting his lips. A sinfully playful smile before they crash onto mine.  It starts slow, gentle; his hand slowly moving to wrap around my neck. Licking the seam of my lips I let him in before quickly pulling back, “it’s alright baby…I can’t get sick…remember” 

And he says he can’t read my mind. His thumb brushing the delicate skin just below my ear. I close my eyes and look down at our joined hands. Max leans forward, resting his forehead against mine. 

“You sure you can’t find minds?” I sigh

“Maybe, just yours” he shrugs grinning from ear to ear

He places a quick kiss on my check and returns to watching the movie. I put my head back on his chest, his hand on my thigh. His thumb gently rubbing soothing circles while his other hand rubs my arm up and down. It’s gentle moments like this that I forget who and what he is, a man who can flip and switch. A man who is incredibly capable of snapping my neck with just a flick of his wrist if he wanted. 

“Ugh…” he throws his head back, groaning and yet another vampire cliche “our eyes don’t change colors.  They especially don’t change based on what we eat. Baby, why do you watch this crap?” it wasn’t a question though 

It was a good question, I don’t really know why. Maybe because it was nostalgia, maybe it was because at the time, I thought it wasn’t just a cheesy vampire movie. Did I know at the time that a handful of years later I would actually be dating a vampire? No, it definitely wasn’t on my life’s ‘bingo’ card. I didn’t even believe vampires were a real thing…not until Max Phillips walked into my life. 

“But they do, I mean not like that…but yours do” 

He shakes his head, “they stay this awful shade of brown…they always have been” he kisses the top of my head before I turn to look up at him

“They are always brown, yes, but sometimes they are lighter. They have a honey color to them, sometimes they have a speckle of gold to them especially when you look at me and tell me you love me.  Then, sometimes…when you are just about to ya know, they are almost black.” my hand holding on to his broad shoulder, he stares down at me and I see that little fleck of gold I was just telling him about.  I scrunch my face, trying to hold back a sneeze but it doesn’t work. I have been holding it back for too long. 

I closed my eyes, and sneezed all over his face before I could get my elbow up to cover my nose. I open my eyes to Max's face, something between annoyed and shocked that I actually sneezed on him. 

“You sneezed” he comments

“Thanks, I didn’t realize that's what I did” I roll my eyes at him “wait, you can’t say it can you? You can’t say bless you…” he shakes his head no, “you can’t say God either can you?” 

“No, I can’t say it, but I sure as hell can make you scream it…just before mine” he smirks, pulling away from me and going back to watching the movie

“Max…gross” I shake my head, wiping my nose on the sleeve of his hoodie and laying my head back on his chest. His laugh, deep makes his entire body shake and it’s moments like this. A domestic moment with him that makes me forget he's a vampire. 

I had fallen asleep at some point, waking up to a dark room. Max had laid me down on the couch, a blanket wrapped around my body. My back pressed up against his chest, the thick, warm blanket between us. The final scenes playing out in front of us. Edward and Bella sharing a dance. He leans her back, his lips moving to her neck. Max’s hand resting on my hip, I can feel his lips moving against my ear. “I love you too…” he whispers

[starlitaritican]

Sheezy.Art

Sheezy opens today for 250 new members for their beta at 2 PM EST along with a stream :3c and I think if things go well they plan to have more openings every friday??

https://sheezy.blog/registrations-open-tomorrow

https://github.com/Sheezy-Art/sheezy-hub/wiki

The past week has been nothing but lovely since coming back and I'm so excited to meet more people 💕its like a beautiful blend of old DA, tumblr side blogs, TH's pretty customizable pages, and bluesky's custom feeds. They're against AI and NFTs too. Obviously its still in beta so there will be bugs that need to be worked out, but so far everything seems incredible

currently there's a limit of being able to post 5 images every 24 hours, but honestly?? that's been amazing so people don't flood each other out too much trying to catch back up. lets you easily space out your uploads and find others easily

I really hope it continues to thrive and everything goes well. Its been so long since I've really had a place where I felt like I fit. I hated twitter with a passion and struggled to get into tumblr since I'm not really someone who reblogs funny stuff since that's not what I'm here for. The only way to really get noticed is to hope and pray someone more popular reblogs your stuff which :'D. I still absolutely love toyhou.se and have been enjoying bluesky so far, but they aren't exactly meant to be art gallery sites and have that kind of community.

also if u do decide to join I highly recommend TweakSheezy its super nice for tweaks you might wanna make :D

screenshot of my profile layout to give an idea of what pages can look like...mines a bit of a mess rn and I need to mess around with HTML more but LMAO also you get a little pagedoll :3

the browsing area. I have my maturity level set to general, but there's ones for mature and explicit. You can choose to have mature content blurred as well even if you have it switched on

you can have little custom pixel icons by your username that stay with it where ever u post :3

you can also make silly little pin boards of things ur interested in, art you've gotten, or just random memes if you wanted to its so funny how I've been seeing people use them

I turned mine into a shrimp tank that people can draw a shrimp to put them in the tank, and it leads you to their profile when you click them (bc yes you can link credits to the images!!!)

[achillean-heartbeat]

Grieving is so different now that i have Lord Beelzebub and Lady Hekate in my life.

A few years ago, i lost a close friend to suicide. It was the most painful loss i had experienced.

A month ago, i lost one of my closest friends to cancer. I don't even know how to tackle in words how huge this painful emptiness is.

However, now, i have an outlet to my grief. For releasing all this love for her that has nowhere to go. I have mantras and prayers to pronounce when i need to talk about my friend but am not able to get out the words.

We made a memorial corner for her in our uni. We planted an olive tree in her name, a way for her to stay physically in our lives.

Every morning when i come to uni, i go and sit with the tree and talk to Lord Beelzebub and Lady Hekate and to my friend.

Everytime i go and sit with her tree, without fail, there is a bee waiting there for me. No matter how many time this has happened, it still makes me tear up.

And today, i was asking of Lady Hekate, Hekate Phosphoros, to be my friend's guiding light wherever she is.

Later in the day, 3 things happened:

First, as i was crying and spiralling about her while in the car, for some reason, my brain went "you need to look out the window right now." And i saw how beautiful today's moon is. It snapped me out of my thoughts. I took a picture for myself because i cherished this moment. And only a couple hours ago, while going through my pictures, did i notice the entire picture. I didn't even see the crossroad lights when i took it. (First pic)

Second, after this, i was browsing the recommended songs of a rock playlist i have on spotify, when i got recommended a pretty interesting artist. When i went and saw their songs, i was so stunned to see one of them was called Crossroads of Hekate when none of the rest of their songs mentioned any other deity or entity. (Second pic)

And third, something absolutely crazy happened. I revisited one of my old instagram accounts. On it, i follow very few people, so the home feed is made of only them. So i saw a recent post of the sister of my friend that i lost to suicide. I thought in my head that i am glad she is able to slowly get back to life. I wanted to check up on her. So i clicked her profile, scrolled down mindlessly in her posts. And i saw the caption of one of her posts. I stared shocked and just... happily hoping, that maybe, she too, found solace and strength in Hekate. I hope so. From the bottom of my heart (third pic)

I hold these moments so, so, so incredibly dear to my heart. I can't even describe the surge of emotions that swell in me whenever instances like these happen.

So after all of this, i finished my night routine since i wanted to turn in because i was tired, so while i was packing my stuff for the next day, i burned some incense, prayed and recited some mantras, talked to her and thanked her immensly.

[forcedhesitation]

only received about 150 follows or so bots from last night. thank goodness this is slowing down. there is still a discrepancy between my follower counts each day, that I'm not able to explain. I don't know if I just can't see certain bots, or something, because I've scrolled through my entire follower list and not found bots to account for this increased number. I know for a fact my follower count wasn't that high before, so I'm a bit confused...

I will warn anyone else, though, that the bots aren't always using the default new account picture with some random three word url. nor are all of them trying to advertise online gambling. some of them do actually have "bios" that try to mimic the bios of real accounts.

common features I've noticed in the "bios" of these mimic bots:

usually a nondescript anime character profile picture. very often the character will have pale skin, dark hair, and white clothing. if not this, it's a photo of an actual person with a similar appearance, but the photo might be a bit artsy, like a close up of the face, or a mysterious side profile.

if the profile picture does not feature a person, it will likely be a cat photo.

there is usually just one emoji in the bio, and it might not even have anything to do with their name. most common ones I saw were any one of the heart emojis.

the description might fully repeat their url, or contain some slight variation of their url, and then pronouns. usually nothing else will be included, except maybe a country or just "minor." The way all of this information is written is formatted without the typical consideration for readability that real human tumblr users typically have, and looks more like an unformatted copy-paste.

there are sometimes weird characters in the bio that make no sense to use. Like a percentile sign (%) placed in a strange place, for example.

as is common with other bots, there are no posts on the blog, or there is just one post. most common subject for that one post seems to be a cat photo, or a link to something. which you should obviously never click.

You do not get a notification for the follow from this account. Over the past few days, I've gotten thousands of bot follows. I am still only getting notifications for follows from real people though, and not for any of the bots. So that gives away who the mimic bots are. of course, there is the chance that notifications may not be working correctly all the time, so take this piece of advice with a grain of salt.

hope no one else has to deal with this bullshit. If you are dealing with it, I pray that it will not be anywhere near as bad as what I had. if you can, try to report as many as you reasonably can because that at least gives information to the people on staff whose job it is to handle bots.

[heyyitslindsay]

I was trying so hard to hold back my tears during the service. I was alone. I spent last Sunday with a group of gals and I led the conversation. My heart was full, sharing my testimonies during my early 20s and how God healed me after our break-up. I was on a Spiritual high. Only to open my IG(coz a new friend insisted I be active there) and see my past convo with Mic. I clicked his profile and saw his recent posts answering random flirty questions from anonymous senders. One question asked who he has planted hickeys on. I was so shocked and enraged about how his dating life is going. I messaged him telling him off. Then I blocked him. And I felt so low rightafter 'coz I just shared my testimony of God's healing and how peaceful I am now. And yet, I was enraged. A week passed and I'm trying to get over that fact but when I was singing worship songs and the seat next to me was empty, I couldn't help but remember how he used to sit right next to me and sing songs of praises together. I cried. So hard. At the bathroom. Funny 'cause I came across one of the gals who listened to our story. I stayed there. It took me some time to calm down. But tears still kept on flowing. I just had to go out since they were already closing the floor. I went out and noticed that Kuya Junel was looking at me so I titled my head up to recognize him, he said hi. When Mic and I talked last time, he was still connected with Kuya Junel and he even brought him up during our last talk. I didn't want him to see I was crying but I also didn't want to ignore him.

I walked out of the building. Good thing I attended the 5pm service and it was already dark when it ended. I was still crying and walking and figured I can't go home like this. I no longer drive after the accident and I stopped riding tricycles cause most drivers were creepy and I couldn't ride the jeepney crying like that.

I walked along the covered part outside our university and called the only person who can really understand me. I called Karl. And immediately, he answered.

He listened to me bawl. He was just silent, paying attention to everything I was saying. And once I got everything out, he calmed me down. He told me it's okay to make mistakes even after delivering a great testimony. That the Christian walk will never be perfect. He told me it's okay to feel and react this way because we had been together for so long. He noticed how I was just masking my concern in anger and that Mic will find his way back to God. God will have a way to redeem him someday somehow, like the prodigal son. And that I should just pray that God send people to help him get back. Within just 8 minutes of his understanding, I ended the call with lots of thanks and him saying that I just chat him whenever I need him.

I chatted him later on that night once I regained my composure, really grateful for him having the patience to listen and knowing just the right words to say. He left another reminder that he'll always be there.

God, please. Kami nalang. 🥺

But thank you so much for loving me through him. I felt loved and cared for. 🤍

Thank you God. 🤍

[anotherbluesunday]

I've currently been toying with the idea of abandoning all my stories and WIPS and leaving writing altogether because the fact of the matter is that readers treat writers one of two ways--they either worship you if you are part of the popular inner ring in the fandom you belong to *or* they treat you like a content farm and will ghost read your stories but never like, comment, or engage with you on your plugged socials. The writer then becomes horribly depressed because the work they put their heart and soul into is ignored. The posts they make on their socials are ignored. The writer tries to encourage engagement through little A/N at the beginning or end of their stories like "hey, just to let you guys know that your feedback and words mean a lot so be sure to leave a like or comment" but this doesn't work either. If a writer dares speak up about it though they're called greedy, manipulative, and inconsiderate of the readers by both writers and readers. They're called whiny and annoying and attention seekers that can't handle not being popular.

All because they just wanted a little bit of engagement with their readers and to know that what they are doing means something.

The way readers treat writers has changed significantly especially since the advent of TikTok and IG Reels with content that can be mindlessly consumed and scrolled through. People take for granted the painstaking time and attention to detail. The work that goes into storytelling and world-building. The thoughtfulness and vulnerability that comes when creating original stories outside of the canon that involve original characters. No one thinks or cares about how writers sit there eagerly awaiting and praying for engagement and for people to care. And when we talk about how sad and depressed and low it makes us feel when readers either ghost read and say nothing or tell us the reason we're not getting clicks/comments is because we aren't writing for their tastes, we (the writers) are told to suck it up and shut up and be grateful and that we should abandon what we want to do and write for the mainstream if we care that much.

And this mentality has spread throughout all of media--original works, fanfics, movies, and shows. And it's not the flex viewers/readers think it is. You aren't winning anything by treating writers like crap. You're destroying human beings because we're more than a user handle online. There's more to us than just a profile picture and a catchy summary in our bio. WE'RE PEOPLE! And we produce amazing quality stories that are as long as books FOR FREE. We don't charge you $30 to read the way you'd be slammed with a fee to read a book online or when you buy it in store. We give you all of this for free and yet writers are constantly stepped on and looked down upon and told to be grateful for the scraps readers occassionally toss their way and it's soul crushing!

That's why writers stop writing. That's why they abandon their works.

It's not a big mystery, it's pretty straight forward. The only reason why everyone says it's a mystery is because they don't want to look in the mirror and see that their piss poor behavior and approach to fanfiction as a true form of literary writing is misled and needs to change. That's the long and short of it and anyone that says I'm wrong is kidding themselves. And if you want to throw the line at me that "some people are really shy and don't know how to engage" I call bullshit because that was me when I first started reading fanfiction but I still commented because I wanted the writers to know that I was thankful and grateful for their hardwork and for the stories they told. I was so worried that my comments would be cringe or come across the wrong way but I left them anyways because I knew that for some writers, that one comment could make their day.

Fucking times have changed though and now people will fawn over and worship one group and ignore the others. They'll criticize you for trying to break away and do something a little different. They'll ignore your story and not even give it the time of day just because they had a bad experience with a certain pov in the past (apparently only toddlers write in first-person which is the most bullshit thing I've ever heard and I can't believe people think this is a valid argument for being prejudice about stories they haven't even read).

I'm so sick of this new age of fanfiction and wished I was part of the community before it evolved into this because people would actually engage with their writers and show support. They would give creativity a chance and different ways/methods of storytelling a chance. But now people want the same copy-and-paste formula and continuation stories, one right after the next.

Call me bitter. Call me a joke or whiny. I don't fucking care.

This is how I see things and I doubt I'm the only one that feels this way.

[faiths-fright-flicks]

Field Guide to Research

By: Faith Ortega

For this week's fact-checking journey, I ventured over to a useful site called Buzzsumo. Buzzsumo is a website dedicated to finding viral trends and topics throughout the world. But how truthful are these trends? I started investigating by picking one notable topic in the public eye from the last 24 hours. I set the Buzzsumo filters to 24 hours ago, all countries, English, and sorted by trending score to quickly see which recent news received the most attention. 

I scrolled for a bit before spotting a shocking headline: Anti-Israel Protester Lights Himself on Fire Outside of White House. The topic had a trending score of 40 and a 353 count for engagement. With such a distressing headline, I quickly wondered if this story was real. 

The Buzzsumo link led me to a Fox News article by reporter Anders Hagstrom: https://www.foxnews.com/politics/anti-israel-protester-lights-himself-fire-outside-white-house.

Before reading the article, I performed a quick assessment of both Fox News and Anders Hagstrom.

A media bias checker revealed that Fox News typically holds a far-right viewpoint, has a mixed rating for factual reporting, and is marked as a questionable source. Although Fox News is a questionable source, this did not directly disprove the story provided yet.

Next, I performed a Google Search for Anders Hagstrom to check his credibility and expertise. As a result, I found out he is a reporter for Fox News who regularly reports on national politics. By digging further, I found his LinkedIn profile: https://www.linkedin.com/in/anders-hagstrom-35a501122/. His profile showed a Bachelor of Arts degree in politics from Hillsdale College. At this point, it seemed that while the news source was possibly unreliable, the reporter for this story had enough expertise to write on the topic. 

Next, I began reading the claims stated in the article “Anti-Israel Protester Lights Himself on Fire Outside of White House”. The article explains that a photojournalist named Samuel Mena Jr. lit his left arm on fire outside the White House on October 5, 2024. Mena screamed that the media was spreading misinformation and reportedly dedicated his act of fire to the victims in Gaza. The article also states that hours before Mena lit his arm on fire, he posted a blog online explaining the purpose of his actions. 

If this story was true, it would be deeply impactful and head-turning. To verify this information I searched the identical headline of Anti-Israel Protester Lights Himself on Fire Outside of White House on Google. 

Many results populated, including similar articles from the New York Post and the Washington Post. I clicked on the New York Post article “Anti-Israel Protester Lights Himself on Fire Outside of White House, Video Shows”: https://nypost.com/2024/10/05/us-news/anti-israel-protester-lights-himself-on-fire-outside-of-white-house-video-shows/

The article verified all the information stated in the Fox News article, including the identification of the reporter, the words he shouted out, and his blog entry before the event. The article also included several photos and videos of the event all with stated sources such as Getty Images and Shutterstock.

Because this event was reported on by many news sources such as Fox News, the New York Post, and the Washington Post, Fox News and Anders Hagstrom were telling the truth when they reported that a protester lit himself on fire outside the White House. The number of images and videos shared by verified photographers accompanying this story also verify the event.

Lastly, when searching for Samuel Mena’s online blog, an entry posted the day of the event populates which verifies his personal reasons for lighting himself on fire. https://samuelmena.weebly.com/palestine

The blog entry ends with Mena saying, “To the 10 thousand children in Gaza that have lost a limb in this conflict, I give my left arm to you. I pray my voice was able to raise up yours, and that your smiles never disappear” (Mena). The blog itself contains information verifying Samuel Mena’s identity, including his portfolio, resume, and contact information.

Although Buzzsumo may contain trending topics of false origins, this shocking news story ended up being completely real.

[unowneyenon]

EDIT: i made this list only a little while ago and ever since then SO MANY FINDINGS ARE OUT!!!! OMG EVERYONE IS SO SMART!!! this list is VERY VERY SMALL ANS A LITTLE OUTDATED!!! for the more updated version, go to my profile and it’s the pinned post!!!!!

🏡the update list, updated!🏡

hello again!! tumblr dot com only lets me upload a certain number of urls, and there were so many little details i noticed, so i wanted to try and organize it some more, i guess! enjoy the new(er) findings!

BTW BTW @q-theeccentric in the reblogs reblogged my og post and added a WHOLE LOT MORE info that i didn’t get to! TYSM UR DOING GODS WORK and if u wanna see those look in the tags!

🐛 the bugs and the videos!🐛

by clicking on the small animated bugs throughout the website, you can unusual little clips of welcome home episode segments!! they all show off the official voice actors. the videos indicate that there is a third party who isn’t speaking, which would be wally. Julie asks wally a direct question in one of the videos (spider) and then it cuts off with a glitch and a deep voice. this is a common pattern in many of the vids, and now i’ve personally realized from watching more bug videos that all of them (most likely) are filmed from wally’s perspective!

here are the videos currently found through the bugs (as of july 23 2023)

the spider (shown in og post)

the praying mantis (og)

the fly (og)

the beetle doesn’t have a video, from the info i’ve received!

the moth (NEW🏡)

ok. listen. maybe i’m overreacting but i SWEAR TO GOD this one GASLIT ME. I WAS ABOUT TO CLICK ON THE MOTH and i hear this really faint beeping. and i SWEAR it sounded like morse code. it was so faint but when i closed out of my web browser i COILDNT HEAR IT ANYMORE. AM I ILL??? I SWEAR ON MY MOTHER I HEARD BEEPS. i do not know morse code, so someone please look into that. i was so distracted and freaked out by that soooo i didnt focus too much on the segment. but it was wally, julie, and frank in frank’s garden. i’ll probably watch it again later when this website decides not to literally gaslight me (UPDATE: IM NOT CRAZY ITS NOT MY EARS I TOOK OUT MY AIRPODS AND HEARD NOTHING. PUT THEM BACK JN FOR CLEAR BEEPS. MAYBE IT IS ME. BUT I TOOK THEM OUT AND HEARD NOTHING. AND NOW I DO?? going insane)

the rhino beetle looking one (NEW🏡)

this one can be found at the bottom right of “the neighborhood” page. poppy and frank are making (unfortunately non edible—looking) sweets, and i love poppy’s voice! she’s so cute and soothing! anyways, the video ends with frank saying how they’re all happy and safe in the neighborhood, ending with: “…wouldn’t you agree, wally?”

🏡audio clips!!🏡

a main focus on this update appears to be various recovered audio clips—from frank and julie singing to barnaby and wally having an interview with a tv host about the show—but by clicking on animated crayon drawings around the welcome home website, you can hear these secret audios made by wally, with a heartbeat present in the background of all of these. there are a LOT. here are the ones i’ve found!

the flowers (og)

home/a house (og post)

a star i think? (og post)

a blue flower/daisy (NEW)

this one can be found if you go to the “the neighborhood” page. click on Home, and look at wally’s profile for a while. a flower will appear on his easel! he tells us about how we’re the most (tysm wallyyy) but how we’re unusually still.

ok gonna go to bed after being gaslit by a website WILL UPDATE MORE OF THIS SOON ‼️‼️🏡

🏡 The Welcome Home Update Discovery List!🏡

DISCLAIMER🏡 this edit is a HUGE WIP right now and i edit this post very frequently! VERY. i can find new material very fast, which makes it hard to publish it all fast!

hello neighbors! the new welcome home update just released and i hopped on in immediately—i made a post about it literally 10 minutes ago. since then, i’ve already found MORE and MORE content!! thus, to share this information with the fandom and also help others find how to access some of this information (of which nobody else has really posted about yet AT THE MOMENT I AM TYPING THIS) i’ve decided to create a big update masterlist of everything me and others have found it this update it will be updated regularly and will be pinned on my acc! happy findings! (ps: please boost this if u can i want to solve mysteries with this hellsite!!)

🏡videos!🏡

side note—it appears all the main glitchy videos with the voice actors can be found by clicking on the numerous bugs around the site! SIDE side notes—i don’t use a computer to access welcome home, so maybe there is a way to do this on a computer. on the front page wayyyyy at the bottom near the count of how many people have visited the site, there’s a beetle i cant click on that just SCREAMS “click me!” PLEASE someone click it because it will not be me

the spider — found on the top right of the “stickers” page, this video goes through a conversation between barnaby & julie, with julie saying really bad jokes in attempt to be funny (she’s is but she isn’t at the same time! i love corny jokes so she’s funny in my eyes). also, something i’ve noticed throughout these videos appears to be that wally is in many, if not all of them. he’s just nonverbal and does not speak. at ALL. but he is in them. barnaby actively talks to a person beside from julie, and at the end, julie says a sentence that ends with “… wasn’t it wally?” asking for his opinion. BUT BUT BUT the video cuts and glitches off as soon as she says wally! it’s very similar to how all these videos end!!

the praying mantis — found at the bottom of the “about us” page, clicking on a little preying mantis will lead you to a video of sally and julie rehearsing for a play! idk if it has any deep meaning yet (besides the random deep voice at the end) but it’s so silly!!!! like julie is so silly i love her!!!! (TW minor glitching and weird deep voice at end which is sorta a pattern in the vids)

the fly — found on the page titled “welcome home” and can be accessed by clicking on a fly that appears on screen. this video depicts frank and barnaby’s voices, discussing frank’s flowers in his garden. the video itself shows what appears to be a smashed orange/pumpkin thing in a woodsy area, as (what i think looks like) a face looms in the background (TW sorta loud noises and glitching!

🏡audios!!🏡

both of these audios are of wally speaking directly to the listener, and can be found on the “welcome home” titled page (at least that’s where i found them) by clicking on crayon-drawn flowers shown here:

yellow flower — depicts wally asking the listener “what are you waiting for? to hear from me again? hahaha! that means you can hear me.” , as a heartbeat noise is heard in the background (it’s not as creepy as it sounds i promise)

red and blue flowers — wally saying; “that’s what an eye looks like. my eyes are black. what color are yours?” as a heartbeat noise plays in the background

house scribble — found DIRECTLY on the front page like as soon as you enter the site. wally says; “there you are! welcome home! hahaha” he’s so silly imo

the star — found on the stickers page by clicking the star scribble. this one kinda scared me a LITTLE with what was happening on screen but wally says: “do you like to draw? i do. do you know how to draw an eye? first, you draw a circle. then, you draw a smaller circle inside. then, you color it in.” this one’s really cool go watch it and you’ll see!

🏡other stuff i noticed (WIP)!!🏡

in the “spider” video, julie says to barnaby that her joke will “knock your [barnaby’s] head off!” which is funny, but not the haha way. because there is art made by clown illustrations of barnaby, who’s head is rolled on the floor

like. ITS RIGHT INBETWEEN HIS LEGS ON THE FLOOR. HIS HEAD IS OFF

[yourtypicalmillennial]

It's been almost a year since the last time I posted my journal here. And the same old story will be written again here. My crying and heartbroken story will fill my Tumblr again. No, I don't go back to him. Only few pieces of aching feelings are left. I just need to get rid of them before it gets bigger and bigger.

Around May this year, I found out that he has been back from his Twitter hiatus. I didn't notice that he was there since April because I had muted him. I don't unfollow him for a childish reason. I don't want to be the first to unfollow because I might look like a coward trying to avoid the past.

I was using my Twitter second account to scroll through tweets quoting a tweet from a popular selebtweet. And I happened to see him quoting it using a screenshot of someone sending him "I LOVE YOU!" text through Twitter DM. I, in fact, had no idea whether it was a screenshot from his own DM or he took it from the internet. Nevertheless, I couldn't resist the temptation of clicking on his profile. And there I was, my screen displayed his bio. It took me one or two minutes before I swiped up to see what he tweeted. This sudden indescribable feeling heated up my chest. It wasn't a kind of pain but it wasn't a good feeling either. At first I thought I was feeling unhappy because he has found someone and I haven't. But it wasn't. I wasn't hurt by the idea of him replacing me with someone else because one day I'll definitely replace him with someone better. Then again, I was stupid to finally decide to see how he has been getting on. Checking up on him was something I thought I wouldn't do, but I did it anyway.

He seems to get by. He lives well as he should. I don't hate him for living well. But there is this anxious feeling that I can't describe how and why. I don't hate it but I don't feel happy for him either. I used to hate knowing that he had no regret hurting me but today it doesn't hurt me as much. I don't regret that we were over. I wished him a terrible life. But now I wish I hadn't said that wish. He's a good guy with good intentions but life sometimes tricks us and turns us into a villain. And I believe he was in such a situation when he was with me. I've tried to understand him better from a good spotlight now.

I shared my wrong during our relationship. I wouldn't say I was without a sin. I might have hurt him in the part I didn't know and for the reasons I didn't know. I admit that I had made a lot of stupid decisions that damaged the relationship to some level. And I had been blaming myself too much for making him decide to break up with me. With which I felt I fed my insecurity for over a year. Calling myself stupid whenever I remember my mistakes was like my daily affirmation. Convincing myself I wasn't worth anyone's love did a damage to my self-esteem.

I'm glad I hold on to my religion. I don't persuade anyone to do what I do because different individuals have different way of operating their coping mechanism. I only have my God. I constantly practice the mindfulness my religion has taught me, like praying every day, seeing everything from a positive light, reading more books, holding myself back from giving nasty comment on social media and the like.

Sometimes the only thing I need is to be alone so I can be empty. And the emptiness can give me a chance to rewrite my story with a happy ending. Now that I forgive myself, I feel better about myself. And surprisingly, I can genuinely forgive him. I don't have to tell him this, do I? Not that he needs it badly.

I have been quite optimistic for a while. But I still don't get what, how, and why this weird feeling appears out of nowhere. I assume the ashes of my last negative feeling is still lingering. It's fine. I'm not in rush when cleaning up things. I'm taking my time scraping out that weird feeling.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

No, Nothin' Good Starts in a Getaway Car

Part 1 of Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car)

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: On the worst first date of your life, you're aching for any excuse to cut the date short. When a chance encounter with a gorgeous blonde presents you with a chance to escape, you'd be a fool not to take it.

Disclaimer: N/A

Warnings: afab!reader

Word Count: 2784

A/N: Hi! I wrote this for @cherrycola27's 1K Celebration Top Gun Taylor's Version. I had an absolute blast writing it. I listened to Getaway Car by Taylor Swift on repeat, and the story ran away from me. It's also the very first fanfiction that I've ever written. I really hope people like it! And to the lovely @cherrycola27, congratulations on 1k followers! I'm so happy for you!

I have about a billion thanks to the fantastic @roosterbruiser for proofreading this as well!

AO3: Cross-posted here! My Masterlist

Series Masterlist | Next Part

Click Here for the Top Gun Taylor's Version Master List

You meet Jake Seresin in the midst of what is arguably the worst first date you've ever been on. San Diego is at its’ best on the gorgeous summer day you greet James outside a bustling bar for your first date. You’d come across James’ profile after signing up on Tinder for the first time at the prompting of your girlfriends.  At first glance, he is the ideal match for you. He seemed intelligent, 30 years old, worked out regularly to keep fit, had a full-time job, and was a family man. There were no glaring red flags, so you swiped right. Your conversation in the app was a bit boring, but you figured it was more due to the medium of your interactions than the man himself. So you set up a date, picking a bar in a popular area of the city, and dolling yourself up in the prettiest sundress you own, a violet number that swishes to the middle of your thighs.

It was the best of times, the worst of crimes I struck a match and blew your mind But I didn't mean it and you didn’t see it

If only he didn’t open his mouth as you sat at a table and began to get to know one another. The first indicator that James was too good to be true was when he ordered you a gin and tonic without asking you what you liked. And then there was the conversation. All he could talk about was himself, his ex-girlfriend, and, shockingly, his mother. If he wasn’t chatting your ear off about the paragon of virtue and perfection that his ex was, he was talking about his mama and how he ached, longed, and pined to find somebody to do for him what she did for his dad and their family. From what you could gather, the man had a borderline uncomfortably close relationship with his mother. He'd even mentioned needing his mom to hold his hand for his yearly physical. It had been over an hour, and he hadn’t asked you one question about yourself! Needing a break, you excused yourself, alluding to refreshing your drink, and made your way to the bar. 

I wanted to leave him, I needed a reason "X" marks the spot where we fell apart He poisoned the well, I was lyin' to myself

The bar was packed as expected for a Friday night in San Diego. The crush of people pressed you up against the countertop. The bartenders rushed from end to end, filling out drink orders at lightning speed. You finally managed to order an Old-Fashioned and were waiting patiently for the bartender to come back with your drink, idly playing with your phone and desperately counting the minutes until you could say goodbye to your date for the night.

"One Old-Fashioned," came the harried bartender's call as she passed the cut crystal glass over the bar top towards you.

"Thanks," You chirp, praying your smile isn't as pained as you feel.

“Thanks, darlin'," is also the response from the man on your right as his hand closes over yours and the amber drink in the glass.

I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed

"O-oh!" you gasp. "Sorry, it's a zoo in here. We must have ordered the same thing!" You release the glass into his grasp.

"An old-fashioned, huh?" He enquires in a deliciously Texan twang. The rest of him is just as delicious, from the emerald eyes, the dirty blonde hair, the cut jaw with a toothpick pressed between thin lips, and the broad shoulders in a polo just a shade darker than his arresting eyes. He's tall, too, at least six feet, and for once, you don't feel like a child looking up at him. Instead, you feel positively delicate in his shadow.

"Yup," You chirp, "I needed something strong to get through what has to be the worst date I've been on in my life."

“A bad date, huh?” His voice is warm and slightly husky. While you usually wouldn’t engage with a man trying to chat with you in a bar, there’s something about this one that draws your attention.

“Yes,” you nod shyly, “it’s been terrible. But I’m sure you’ve got something better to do than hear about the bad date experience of someone you’ve just met.”

“And what,” he asks, turning the toothpick in his mouth end over end, “better thing do you think I have to do?”

Some foreign confidence inhibits you as you take a sip from the glass he places in your hand, letting the liquid slip lazily down your throat as you examine the bar around you.

“Are you sure one of those girls over there isn’t a better companion for your night?” you ask, gesturing towards a group of girls wearing skimpy dresses, sky-high heels, and sashes. They’re each holding a flute of champagne while drunkenly giggling and dancing at the edge of the dance floor. They must be a bachelorette party if the tiara and glitter are leading you right. “They look like they’d be perfect for giving you the good time you’re looking for.”

“And what would you say,” he smirks, grabbing the glass back from you and taking a swig of his own, “if I say I would like nothing more than to know exactly what it is about Mr. Average over there that’s got you all hot-n-bothered? And not in a good way, at that?”

“I’d say, another Old-Fashioned, and you’re on.” From the delight on his face, as he flags down another bartender and orders your drinks, you can see that he’s just as excited to have your full attention as you are to have his. Your decision is made even easier as you lean against the counter and peer through the crowd looking for James. You’re not even a bit surprised to see his attention on his phone in the way it hadn’t been on you when you’d been sitting across the small table from him.

It’s only a few minutes before a pair of fresh Old-Fashioneds are slid your way, and bright green eyes impale you. Taking a sip to fortify yourself, you tell him the whole sordid tale, from swiping right on Tinder to James’ idealized relationship with his ex and his codependent one with his mother. Your drink is long gone by the time you finish, and you’re fiddling with a slim straw as the last words leave you in a rush. It’s a shock to your system when a hand grasps yours.

"A pretty little thing like you shouldn't have to deal with bad dates. A man should be thanking his lucky stars for getting to take a beautiful girl like you to a place like this," the stranger purrs. 

"Smooth," you chuckle, somehow still intrigued despite having been cursing men not long before. "Now I'm just counting the minutes until it's polite for me to make an excuse to walk out of here as fast as I possibly can, and then I never have to see him again." 

"Well, sweetheart," he grins conspiratorially, "I think you've made your feelings perfectly clear already." At your questioning hum, he continues, "Seeing as how you're holding a stranger's hand at the bar and all."

You squeak in response and extricate your hand from the heat of his large palm and long, calloused fingers, face hot and cheeks flushed.

"I'm so sorry!" You apologize profusely. The handsome stranger's eyes seem amused and all-knowing as he bats down every apology spilling from your maroon lips.  Finally, he takes one step further into your space, his hand curling around your hip in a tender caress that sends heat rocketing through you.

"Tell you what, sweetheart." the hot puffs of breath into your ear send a shudder down your spine. "If the date is as bad as you say it is, I'll drive the getaway car. But first, why don’t we show him what he’s had and still missed all night?"

You're transfixed, peering up into sage green pools. This proposition will likely be a better end to the night than anything you expected. Better, definitely, than going home, changing into your pajamas, eating ice cream out of the carton, and venting on the phone to whichever one of your girls can lend a sympathetic ear.

One nod is all it takes. Your handsome stranger drags you out from your sheltered spot at the bar, making his way to the small dance floor. He twirls you around on the dance floor, song after song, in front of the table you were sitting at with your date. At first, you’re worried, not wanting a confrontation between your handsome stranger and James. But as the songs transition, you realize that you’re smiling and laughing outright, all tension dissipated in the heat of his calloused hands on you. Mr. Handsome, as you’ve dubbed him in your head, is a fighter pilot for the US Navy with a dry sense of humor that has you in paroxysms of glee. As you glide across the dance floor, you share information about yourself too. It’s gratifying to hear that he’s as devoted to his job as you are to yours.

It takes a fellow bar patron pointing the two of you out before James notices. As Mr. Handsome twirls you in a spin that wouldn’t have been out of place in Dancing With the Stars, you can see James’ face grow redder and redder.  

Mr. Handsome notices too, and with one final spin, as he clutches you close enough that you can feel the solid muscle of him against your body, he smirks out, “I’ve got you, gorgeous girl. He’s not going to touch one hair on this pretty head. And,” tone growing dark, in a growl that reduces your knees to jelly, “he’ll have to get through me to do that.” 

The song, something peppy that you couldn’t name even if you’d heard it hundreds of times before, finally draws to a close. James’ temper looks to have reached a boiling point, and just as he rises from his seat to stomp over, Mr. Handsome whisks you away, grabbing your purse in one hand as you walk past the table, with one smug wink in the man's direction. 

It was the great escape, the prison break The light of freedom on my face

You can faintly hear James' angry voice screaming, ordering you to come back, but you could care less, wholly enchanted as you are with the beautiful man holding your hand. He throws open the door to his truck in the parking lot and helps you in, and in short order, you're peeling out of the parking lot with James trying and failing to run after you.

While he was runnin' after us, I was screamin', "Go, go, go!"

The mood is light, sitting in the car after you both made your escape. The windows are down, and some country song blares lowly from the speakers. Mr. Handsome’s a chiaroscuro of color in the play of the moonlight on his skin. Every few moments, you see his eyes glance your way as if curious as to why you picked him. Finally, he pulls onto a hilltop overlooking the city and turns off the car. 

Ridin' in a getaway car There were sirens in the beat of your heart

In the silence of the summer night, any tension left in you finally drains away. It’s still a shock when he finally speaks, breaking the peace, “You know, it’s only polite to tip your getaway car driver.” 

You don’t even have to look to know there is a smug smile on his mouth. You also don’t need a mirror to know you’re flushed with the same heat he’d kept on your face all night thus far.

“Tips? Tips weren’t included in our agreement. I only remember agreeing to you driving the getaway car and showing James what he’d been missing all… night … long.” Each word dripping from your burgundy lips is punctuated by the slow glide of your fingers from his palms up his arms. Two can play the seductive game, after all. You can’t help the satisfaction on your face at seeing the blonde adonis sitting beside you, gazing back at you. 

“I’m Jake, Jake Seresin,” your handsome stranger, now Jake, introduces himself. You return the favor, gratified at the sight of his plush lips mouthing your name like he is relishing the shape of you on his tongue. The conversation, unsurprisingly, is as organic as it was when you were both whirling around on the dance floor in that bar a world away. You learn things about Jake that you’re sure he hasn’t told anyone else, just as you tell him things you haven’t told anyone too. When you finally glance at your phone, it’s well past midnight, and San Diego is aglow out of the windshield. 

“It’s past midnight,” you murmur, voice scratchy after hours of conversation and laughter.

“How was that for your first date in a long time?” Jake posits, eyes hooded, and long limbs languid as they stretch before him.

“Pretty good,” you respond, captivated again by the glow of his eyes in the moonlight. “The getaway driving was the highlight of the night after all. The only thing left is to go home and maybe get a kiss goodnight. You game?” There’s a twinkle of mischief in your eyes and an equally mischievous glint in Jake’s. 

“Well, darlin’,” he groans, “I can do you one better. I can kiss you now, sitting in this car, and taste that gorgeous mouth now and then again on your doorstep. What do you say?”

Your grin is perhaps over-eager as you haul yourself into his lap and finally, desperately kiss him like some part of you had been aching to since you left the bar. He takes the lead fairly soon, cradling you against his chest like you’re everything precious in his life. The kisses finally peter off into presses of lips against any exposed skin, gentle and sweet. You can feel the thundering beat of his heart under your hand and soft puffs of breath against the top of your head,

A sinking feeling seeps into you as Jake deposits you carefully back in the passenger seat with a kiss on your forehead and helps you buckle your seatbelt up again. Things are quiet as he navigates you home, the silence punctuated only with long, heat-filled glances and the voice of the GPS taking you home. Too soon, the truck pulls up in front of your house.

“This is me,” you say, injecting false levity in your tone, sad to be leaving Jake when you’d just found him. Jake is the requisite gentleman who lopes around the front of his truck to open the door and help you out. You walk to the door hand in hand, clinging desperately to the feelings of comfort and affection Jake had created in you in one magical evening. 

“Jake,” you peer up at him, playing with his fingers, “before that goodnight kiss you promised me. What are the likelihoods you’d want to do something like this with me again?”

“Chances, pretty girl,” he’s grinning now, something softer and sweeter than the smirk he’d leveled at James hours ago, “are pretty damned good. But first, I’d need your phone number. It’s the only reliable way I know of to get in touch with you again, after all.”

You nod, digging your phone out of your purse, unlocking it, and handing it to him. Phone number saved, Jake slips the phone back into your bag. He then tips your face up, hands gently splayed across your jaw as he feathers the promised goodnight kiss across your lips, the apples of both cheeks, and your forehead. He then presses one final kiss against your lips, a kiss potent enough to make your legs weak, and then steps back, smiling from ear to ear as he watches you unlock your door with shaking hands.

“Text me, gorgeous girl!” 

Those are the last words you hear as you step into your dark house and lock the door behind you.  A ridiculous dopy, giddy grin dances across your lips at the thought of Jake Seresin wanting to see you again. They always say, "No, nothin' good starts in a getaway car," but as you fall asleep in your bed that night with a text zipping through the night air to him, you know that Jake Seresin will be different. You have this sneaking suspicion that he thinks the same of you.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[flowerpowelltales]

Like Fall, Like Spring (Drake x MC)

PART NINETEEN

A/N: we’re almost done with this series 🙊 can you imagine when i started writing i only meant to write five parts, at most? ah, good ol’ days 😅

Drake was studying her panicked expression before asking again.

“Who was it?”

“Umm.” She looked at her phone and then back at Drake. She knew she had to tell him Leona was bullying her again but she thought she’d have more time. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“Of course not. Woke up, you weren’t there, came here and see you with tears in your eyes.”

“Right. Sorry. It was... Daniel. From that bar in New York I worked in, remember? He told me something... upsetting. About the bar. It’s early, I haven’t had my coffee yet and I overreacted.” Gosh, Riley, stop talking.

Drake narrowed his eyes. “Daniel. About the bar. That’s it?”

Riley nodded. “Yup. I made breakfast, too! Are you hungry?”

If Drake wanted to say something he decided against it. He sat down on a chair and let Riley serve him, his eyes not leaving her even for a second.

~~~~

Breakfast was rather nervous. Riley babbled about everything and nothing, not letting Drake say anything. From time to time she would glance at her phone and then back at Drake, starting her monologue again. 

When Drake excused himself after the meal and went to discuss something with Liam, Riley finally had time to think about the morning call from Leona. She didn’t want to believe Drake’s crazy aunt since she had the tendency to make up stories that fitted her narrative. But at the same time, she felt uncertain. She was gone for months. Would she really blame Drake if he found someone else in the meantime? 

She knew she needed to find out the truth and she already knew the first step to do so.

~~~~

Riley had been staring at her phone for good twenty minutes, weighing pros and cons, before finally taking it and opening Instagram. She clicked on Drake’s profile only to realize it was absolutely pointless - he was following only three people (her, Savannah and Liam; Maxwell was blocked) and the only thing he ever did on this platform was liking Riley’s photos. She surely wouldn’t find any Mary-Annes there.

She checked Savannah’s profile instead and found the woman Leona was talking about almost immediately. Mary-Anne was a beautiful, her hair was like straight out of shampoo commercials, silky, wavy and blond. She didn’t have too many pictures and the last photo was from a year ago. Riley could see why Leona liked her so much; she was perfect. Not just the way she looked but also the way she presented herself. Photos with her family, photos on her family ranch. A few with Savannah. From what Riley had gathered, Mary-Anne was a family person, a vet who not only took care of their farm animals but also volunteered in animal shelters, had many friends and an amazing smile. In short, she was perfect and Riley could never even compete.

She clicked on the tagged photos and zoomed in on the first one. And there it was, the bump.

The picture was posted a week before and the bump wasn’t too big. If Riley had to guess, Mary-Anne was probably four, five at most, months pregnant. She quickly ran the numbers in her head only to realize it was more than possible that she got pregnant while Riley was gone.

Leona was right.

~~~~

Rationally, the child didn’t necessarily have to be Drake’s. Mary-Anne could be pregnant and it could have nothing to do with Drake. 

But a part of her, that self-consious part that Leona loved to appeal to, was scared. Because what if Drake decided to go back to Mary-Anne and raise their child together? 

Obviously, Riley would let him. She left him once, she had no right to be selfish. But she prayed, hoped, kept her fingers crossed that it was just one Leona’s life and not new reality that she would eventually have to accept.

When Drake came home, she was too jittery to talk. Before he could ask what was wrong, she headed out, saying she wanted to go for a walk. 

The longer she walked the more guilty she felt. She lied to Drake again. How could he forgive her after all of that? Not even an hour passed when she ran back home and startled Drake.

“Riley?” What happened?” Drake sat straight on the couch and paused the movie he was watching.

“I lied. I lied again after telling you I would never lie and I hate that I did it. I panicked. I panicked and lied like a coward that I am and now you won’t trust me ever again and you’d be right and I just messed up our last chance to fix things and I hurt you again and I’m so, so sorry.” She sobbed.

“Whoa, Riley, calm down, please. I don’t understand. Sit down and tell me what happened.” Drake grabbed Riley’s arm and pulled her down on the couch, next to him. 

She took a deep breath. “It wasn’t Daniel who called. It was your aunt. Leona.” She bit her lip and risked a look at Drake. He seemed... unmoved.

“I know,” he simply said.

“You... what? You know?!”

Drake shrugged. “I heard you.”

“So you were eavesdropping!”

“I wasn’t. I went to the kitchen to look for you and when you said ‘Leona, what are you talking about’ I assumed you were talking to my aunt.”

“So... Why didn’t you say anything when I told you it was Daniel? Oh gosh, you must have hated me! I lied to your face! And you knew I lied!”

“I didn’t hate you. I was just... waiting until you tell me. I was disappointed at first, but I know you need time to digest things before saying anything. So I waited. And I’m really glad you decided to tell me after all.”

“So you’re not mad? You don’t hate me?” She asked and then added seeing his raised eyebrow, “I need to make sure!”

“I’m not at you. And I don’t hate you. But we need to do something about Leona.”

Riley nodded and bit her lip again. After a few seconds she broke the silence. “There’s something else.”

“What?” Drake frowned.

“Leona said... Apart from the fact that I’m ruining your life by coming back, she said that you were seeing other women while I was gone. Like Mary-Anne, your ex. And that Mary-Anne is pregnant now. With your child. And she is. Pregnant I mean, not with your child. I mean, I don’t know that but I know she is pregnant in fact. I checked it on Instagram.”

Drake clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. He was silent for a few moments and Riley thought she was going to pass out. 

“You think it’s my child?” He asked calmly.

“I don’t know. A part of me, the bigger part, says no. But there’s this self-consious part which overthinks every possibility. Is it? The child, is it yours?”

“No, Riley.”

She closed her eyes, relief written all over her face. She felt Drake’s hands taking hers and she opened her eyes. 

“Since the day we walked into that bar in New York, I haven’t been with anyone, but you. I never wanted anyone but you. And no matter what Leona says, I would never touch anyone else.”

She nodded, tears streaming down her face, half happy, half relieved. 

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you. I love you so much,” she whispered and kissed him lightly. 

“Have you?” He asked hoarsely. She shook her head.

“Never? Not even with Liam?”

She shook her head again. “Not even with Liam. It’s always been you.”

And then Drake kissed her, not lightly, not softly, not shyly, but like a husband that kissed his wife after being away from her for too long. Like a man who finally got his woman back. They were kissing not like strangers but like two people who knew each other for ages. Like they were making up for the lost time. Like they never had a break. Like they loved each other.

~~~~

“Why are you laughing?” Drake groaned. It was five in the morning and even though Drake was used to waking up early, he didn’t get enough sleep the night before.

“It’s just...” Riley chuckled into Drake’s chest. “When Leona called me yesterday I’m sure she didn’t expect she’d actually help us make up.” She motioned their naked bodies and Drake laughed.

“Oh definitely not. I’m tempted to call her and thank her.”

“Oh gosh, imagine her face,” Riled giggled.

They laughed and joked and kissed until it was time to get out of bed. Drake had some business with Liam and Riley had plans on her own. Plans she didn’t talk about with anyone. 

If it worked out, it hopefully would be another step towards fixing their marriage and another reason to celebrate. 

Riley took a deep breath; inhaling hope and exhaling doubts. 

TAGGING: @gardeningourmet​​ @delightfullypinkglitter​​ @alesana45​​ @walkerdrakewalker​​ @karahalloway​​ @kingliam2019​​ @lovingchoices14​​ @tessa-liam​​ @gkittylove99​​ @texaskitten30 @twinkleallnight​​ @rubiwalker​​ @differenttyphoonwerewolf​​ @nestledonthaveone​​ @marshmallowsandfire​​ @21-wishes​​ @thequeenofcronuts​​ @iaminlovewithtrr​​ @angelasscribbles​​ @ladyangel70 @tinkie1973 @belencha77​​ @lunaseasblog​​ @alyshak92​​ @xpandass420x​​​ @queen-arabella-of-cordonia​

[shigarakis-cumdump]

An Unhealthy Obsession- Shigaraki x reader

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shigarakiscumdump/works

(If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ao3!)

Summary: Short yandere fic based off the song “An Unhealthy Obsession,” by The Blake Robinson Synth. Orchestra. 

Cw: yandere and stalker tendencies

Word count: 1.9k 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Many people would call Shigarki the creepy type if they saw him on the street. Slouched over, face always buried in his phone with his hoodie covering the rest. He looked like your local creep who hung around popular stores and malls by himself. He would go to one mall in particular, even more so after he realized they had a Game Stop there. He would frequently go in to browse, and while he was checking out one day, he met you behind the counter.

“Will this be all?” you ask in your sweet customer service voice, with your head slightly tilted. Shigaraki froze in place. No one this pretty has ever talked to him before.

“Um, yeah, that’s all.” he says quickly, looking down to the ground while you're bagging his games.

“This one’s my favorite; I’ve been playing non-stop since it came out, have fun with it!” you say as you hand the bag back. And you play games? Could it get any more perfect?!

“Thanks,” he managed before walking out of the store and finding the closest bathroom. He locked the stall door and sat down. With his heartbeat in his cock, he couldn’t stop thinking of how innocent your voice sounded, and how pretty you looked. He decided from then on you were his next obsession.

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Shigaraki visited the store so often he learned your schedule. He would watch others make small talk with you, and it made him want to steal you for himself. His blood boiled when someone else would make you laugh. Soon enough, seeing you at your work wasn’t enough. He wanted to know more about you. So he followed you home one day. He kept his distance, being too scared of appearing creepy to people around him. You lived a few blocks away from him, who knew!This made it very easy for Shigaraki to stake out across the street and just watch you for hours. You always kept your windows open, maybe for the natural light? He appreciated it though; in his eyes, you left your blinds open for him. So he could watch as you dance around your room with your dog, and then relax and watch tv, hugging a pillow as you accidentally fall asleep. You were precious, and he realized all you wanted, all you needed, was someone like him to cuddle up into, to make sure you were safe. After all, there were too many creeps who could hurt you- he was just making sure they didn't get to you.

Shigaraki made it back to his place, but you never left his head. He went from sitting in the bushes, to sitting hunched over his desk, looking up your name on every search engine imaginable. “Bingo!” he says once he finds your socials. He scrolls down your page, seeing your stories about going to conventions earlier in the summer, spending time with your friends and- oh? What’s this? You were hugging a boy in this picture. Shigaraki zoomed in to get a good look at his face. “Why would you want a bastard like him?” he grunted angrily. He clicked on his profile and saw a post of you two eating at “your favorite restaurant” together for his birthday. The post was from the beginning of this year, so maybe you weren’t still with the guy. I mean Shigaraki didn’t see anyone while he was stalking you, which was a good sign.

Over time, his camera roll would fill up with screenshots of you off of your profile, shaky pictures he snapped of you while you were working, etc. He was in the store just when you worked now, because any other time he was following paces behind you to wherever your pretty feet were taking you. Stepping up to the counter with a few games, you began checking him out. His voice low and quiet as he asked, “Do you play games often?”

“Oh sure! Whenever I have free time, really. But lately I’ve been too busy. We should totally play together sometime!” you beam. Play together? He wanted to do a lot more than that .

“C-Cool, then I’ll see you through a screen next time,” Shigaraki scratches his neck awkwardly. You give him that practiced smile you show to all the customers. “Oh, what time do you get out?” he asks, and you give him a confused look. “S-so I know when to hop on! Just in case..” he drifts off, trying to keep cool. You tell him around 8, and he leaves. That’s perfect. Gives him just enough time to run some errands.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shigaraki went to the hardware store and got the smallest cameras he would find. He hurried over to your place, and prayed the key was still under the rug where you left it. And it was! He unlocked your door, and your small dog ran up to him, jumping on his leg. “You’re a friendly little guy, aren’t you?” he says, leaning down to pet the dog. Don’t get distracted ! He reminded himself. He began by setting a few cameras up in your room, one facing each corner. This gave him a perfect view of your bed, desk, and closet. While he was in there, he picked up a piece of thin red fabric off the ground. He inhaled deeply, to smell a sweet and salty scent. He shoved them into his pockets for later, and finished placing the cameras.

Back out in the living room, your dog was following him around. Shigaraki knelt down and gave him a pat. He read the dog's collar; apparently his name was Shiro. Cute. “You want something, Shiro? You need some food?” he asked, looking around for his dog dish. He found it and filled it up and then sat on the couch. He took your panties out of his pocket, giving them another whiff. The smell shot straight down to his groin, heating him up. He pulled his phone out and went to his album just for you and scrolled through the pictures. He loved you so dearly, and one day you would know just how much he cherished you. He played back the small interactions the two of you had, and all the memories you’d have together in the future. He palmed his hardening cock, head leaning back on the couch.

It was 6:30, he still had a few more hours before you were back. He revealed his dick from his sweatpants, his tip leaking pre. He put your red panties in his hand, and started to jerk himself off- the soft lace brushing against the underside of his dick. His breathing became hitched and sporadic at the thought of you underneath him making the same noises. No, he wasn’t experienced, but you would teach him everything he needed to know!

“Y/N… god you’re so tight..” he groaned. His hips thrusting up into you as you let out lewd noises for him. He grabbed your face and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“God please- fuck, I’m close, Shiggy!” you whined under him, twitching with your back arched and a tit in his mouth. The thoughts that filled his mind went directly to his cock. Shigaraki humped his hand, wishing it could be you, waiting for when it was you. Maybe you’d even fuck on this couch, who knows. He quickly finished and made sure to leave nothing behind before heading out and staking out behind the bushes again.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You throw yourself on the couch as always, sitting where he sat just an hour ago. You made yourself some tea as you turned the tv on. It wasn’t too late, meaning Shigaraki could watch you for a bit.

A little later, you make yourself dinner. You take the trash out and leave it by the road. Shigaraki, being the weirdo he is, makes his way across the street, dangerously close to your front window, to snoop through your trash. There had to be something good in there. . He rummaged through your trash to find empty take out containers, some paper, and- chapstick? He wasn’t big on using it himself, but if it was yours, it was automatically going on his lips. He thought of it like an indirect kiss from his one and only. It had a taste of sweet strawberries, probably what you would taste like if he ever had the chance to kiss you. One day, he keeps telling himself. He pulls out his phone to check your room cameras and he sees you starting up your pc. Right! You asked to game with him earlier!  Shigaraki raced back home to load his game, praying he would find you in one of the local servers. There was FlameThrower2050 , TheRadicalDude , SuckItRight , and Shiro’sCloud online. You had to be the last one. He shot you a direct message, asking if you were up for a game, and you said yes. You actually said yes! Of course, you didn’t know it was him. You went into a private lobby and you turned on your headset. “Hey, can you hear me?” you asked innocently. Your pure voice went right through his heart. “Uh yeah, you sound great,” he blurts out. “Oh, Shigaraki?” you remembered his name?! This left him ecstatic. The game starts and you play a few rounds, Shigaraki being in heaven. You ended up beating him. In every. Single. Round. A bit embarrassing for him, but you laughed it off and didn’t make fun of him for it. Oddly, that stuck with him. You were so nice the whole time- he couldn’t wait to talk to you at work tomorrow!

It was getting late, which is why you had to go, which also meant Shigaraki got to watch you on the cameras. He pulled out his phone, switching to the view of your bed. You crawled in with just panties and an oversized shirt on, how cute. You scrolled on your phone for a little, until it dropped on your chest and you fell asleep. Your phone battery is gunna die, silly… Shigaraki thinks to himself. He could always go over and plug it in for you. No! That was too dangerous!! What if you wake up when he’s standing over you? Certainly that’s not a good impression to leave. He argues with himself for a bit before he’s out of the house, running down the street. His feet carry him all the way back to your place. He grabs the key and goes for the door. It was unlocked. You left it unlocked for him? How nice of you! He sneaks in and Shiro is quick to jump on him. Shiro took quite a liking to him. He tiptoed over to your room, looking at your sleeping body through the door crack. He opened the door slightly, going in and looming over you. He pried the phone from out of your hands and plugged it in for you. You would thank him later; tomorrow! When you’d see him next. Shigaraki zoned out, watching you sleep soundly for a good hour, stealing pictures of you while you were snoring, and getting a quick sniff of your hair. He had stayed there a lot longer than intended, the sun starting to rise. He snuck out of your room and locked the door on his way out.

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“Oh, hey!” Shigaraki hears your pleasant voice call out to him from the counter. “Last night was a lot of fun; how about we play again tonight?” you ask him. He immediately says yes, his heart doing flips in his chest. This was the start of something good.