#trust me i could do a part 100 and there will still be a thousand more pictures of roger looking at rafa like this

[rafasbiscuits]

Fedal heart eyes part 2

and ofc the iconic

[robbie-wallis]

I need to vent about Watcher, endure it if you can

Relax, this isn't a parasocial thing, but it is a long ass post, which suits me as a long ass human.

I need an outlet to discuss the terrible business decision Watcher has made by announcing their plan to leave YouTube, and this long-forgotten Tumblr account reached from its grave to grab at my ankle.

If you didn't see their video, good for you. It's extremely cringe-worthy in its sentimentality and editing, with blurry shots, pensive pauses and obligatory sad piano.

But at least there's no f'ing Ukulele.

Although, I think we might get the Ukulele in a few months.

Even though anyone who reads this is probably familiar with what the "Ghoul Boys" have done, I feel as though I need to add a little history.

WATCHER HISTORY

You can skip this part if you've been obsessively following the shenanigans, this is for the noobs who were never a "shaniac" or a "boogara".

Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara used to work at Buzzfeed. They hosted the successful Buzzfeed Unsolved shows. In 2019 they followed in the footsteps of the Try Guys and Safia Nygaaard and left Buzzfeed to create their own YouTube channel named "Watcher".

They brought along Steven Lim, another Buzzfeed person who is most known for the "Worth It" series. This series followed Lim and his friend/s spending obscene amounts of money on obscenely overpriced and indulgent products.

Think of it as being similar to the $100 V's $10,000 Sidemen content, only without the self-awareness and British "bad lads" humor.

Notably, even the Sidemen seem to have cut back on those adventures, perhaps understanding how bad it looks when so many people are struggling to pay their essential bills.

Steven became the CEO of Watcher while Shane and Ryan continued to create and present for the new channel.

They were wildly successful by YouTube standards. At the time of their self-spanking on Friday they were close to achieving 3 million subscribers, in just 4 years, based on basically only 2 cornerstone shows. If Social Blade is still a reasonably trusted source in everything but estimating income, they were gaining thousands of new subscribers every week.

Their most successful shows were Ghost Files, Puppet History, Too Many Spirits and Mystery Files.

Ghost Files is the only one of these shows which requires heavy investment, travel, a large crew and impressive production costs. These videos are shot on-location and require a lot of work. The rest are basically Good Mythical Morning style, just the two hosts and their banter.

Aside from Ghost Files, their content could be created with 3 cameras, 2 lapel mics and a good editor.

They were massively successful, solely because of Ryan and Shane.

THE DEMISE

So, what did they do on Friday 19th April? They decided to announce the launch of their own subscription platform.

Not a Patreon for extra content, behind-the-scenes, audience interaction etc, (they already had a Patreon with 6,000 paying subscribers earning them at least $50k a month), but a bespoke streaming platform which looks like a clone of Netflix.

The cost is $5.99 a month, or $60 a year.

Comparable to Netflix.

And by that I mean the price is comparable to Netflix while the content is comparable to a 4 year old YouTube channel.

Don't get me wrong, their production quality is incredible. The quantity, however, is not.

From the end of May viewers will have to pay to be a subscriber on their own platform in order to watch their shows.

They'll still be posting their trailers on YouTube, and the first episodes of new shows, but to watch it all you'll have to pay up or miss out.

Edited to add: Variety originally reported the Watcher crew were planning to remove all their existing content from YouTube to monetize it on their own platform. It's since been confirmed they will not be removing their old content. Fans are undecided whether this was a back-track after the announcement or a misunderstanding by Variety. You be the judge.

Of course, they're entitled to do this. They are creating a product and you can either enjoy it or not. No one is entitled to see it, for free, whenever they like.

Why did they do this?

Half of the sombre video gushes about their "humble beginnings" as "struggling young guys in a big harsh world", which comes across as extremely self-indulgent and ego-stroking.

A quarter of it explains how insanely successful they've been on YouTube and how this is all thanks to the fans who stuck with them after Buzzfeed, how it's allowed them to hire 25 people, how it's given them the freedom to create what they enjoy making and what the viewers want to see, and - most importantly - how it's allowed them to increase production quality on Ghost Files.

The final quarter of the video explains that this isn't good enough, the quality isn't high enough, the finish not glossy enough, it's not "TV caliber" enough! They want more, they need more, you have to give them more, mostly (apparently) because their CEO Steven Lim wants to bring back his show where he flies around the world with his bestie sipping Champagne and eating gold-leaf-covered lobster.

In short, they want more money to make even bigger things, even though their audience never asked for that.

WHY IT WILL NOT WORK

Oh my goodness, this is going to be a ride so strap in.

I'm not a YouTube creator so there are a lot of things I do not know. Having said that, I know a little about business.

This ain't Buzzfeed, y'all

Watcher became successful because of Ryan and Shane. It was their friendship, their personalities, and the content we loved to watch featuring them at Buzzfeed, that brought us along for the ride.

The audience they poached from Buzzfeed is there for them and Ghost Files. It's not there for Steven Lim and "Worth It". His show worked under the Buzzfeed umbrella only because they had numerous sub-categories in that community to support it.

The Try Guys left and created their own channel from their Buzzfeed fans.

Safia Nygaard left and created her own channel from her Buzzfeed fans.

Shane and Ryan left and created Watcher from their Buzzfeed fans.

Steven Lim left and became the CEO of Watcher. He didn't take his audience with him.

The audience of Watcher is not the audience of "watch me fly around the word with my pal and spend $100K on hand-reared, Whiskey marinaded, diamond-encrusted Kobe steak".

And... IN THIS ECONOMY?

Steven chose to become a CEO instead of a presenter. He's missed the opportunity to take that Buzzfeed audience with him.

This is made clear by the Watcher channel itself. Their "man eats food" content rarely breaks 500K views while their Ghost Files breaks 2 million consistently.

If a million of their viewers followed them from Buzzfeed to Watcher, the other 2 million have joined them since, based almost entirely on their spoopy content.

Not only did they base their channel on this genre and format, they have distilled their audience further ever since the creation of their channel and no matter how hard they try to diversify into "man eats food" it's just not working.

This ain't Netflix, y'all

As mentioned, the $5.99 charge is comparable to Netflix and just about every other streaming platform. Only Watcher can't give you even 5% of what a competing platform can offer for that price.

Other platforms also tailor their content and their pricing based on geographical location and localized economics.

You're paying far less than $5.99 a month if you live in an economy where the median household income is $300 a month. YouTube has a global audience. Their subscribers don't all live in a stable economy where $5.99 is considered disposable income.

We don't know the numbers, but I would guess only 60% of their subscribers are based in the USA, Canada, and the UK.

Even for those who do live in a stable economy, their audience is predominantly young adults and students. Most young adults are currently facing the reality that they will possibly never own their own home, they're living day-to-day trying to budget.

They've instantly priced-out a large % of their audience.

I confidently predict that diehard fans who can't see anything wrong with this will sign up for $5.99 a month, binge watch for a couple of weeks, realize there's no new spoopy content and cancel.

They'll come back when a full season of Ghost Files has arrived, pay again, binge it and leave.

Steven Lim thinks they're gonna get $5.99 a month, every month, from thousands of subscribers. In reality they're going to get maybe $12 a year, from people signing up to binge watch what they want, then leaving.

This will then decline naturally as attention wanes during the months where there is no spoopy.

This ain't good marketing, y'all

They're going to be posting "trailers and season pilots" on YouTube.

Sure, I bet YouTube is gonna be totes okay with a channel doing nothing but trying to hijack traffic for an external site.

Posting nothing but trailers and season premiers will mean maybe one full video per month during busy seasons. That's not enough to remain relevant for the algorithm.

If 80% of those posts are also just trailers saying "leave YouTube and come here", the channel will be smacked down quicker than a crypto scam using an AI generated Elongated Muskrat.

Their channel was growing steadily, but that was with full content regularly posted. When the schedule drops off, and when most of it is considered spammy by YouTube, it's going to collapse like a flan in a cupboard.

A streaming platform needs a constant flow of new subscribers just to replace the gradual drop-off (maybe ask Rooster Teeth about that). When your global audience at YouTube is gone, where are those new subscribers coming from?

The platform is also an additional overhead. It's going to cost thousands a month to keep the servers going.

This ain't good financial management, y'all

I don't know if they've already spent hundreds of thousands of $s on Lim's "men eat food" gamble, but I suspect they have.

I know they have spent hundreds of thousands of $s on a new season of Ghost Files, flying to the UK to host live events while filming those episodes.

This means they've over-extended their finances just at the moment where they've cratered their opportunities to see a return on investment.

Just that, on its own, is enough to destroy a production company.

They do not need 25 employees any more than I need an editor and proof-reader for this long ass post.

They do not need a production studio in Hollywood any more than I needed an office to write this.

They do not need to spend tens of thousands of $s on glossy graphics that appear on screen for maybe 4 seconds in one episode any more than I needed to add screengrabs to this painfully long essay.

By leaving YouTube they've lost:

Adsense revenue (which might not be much on a per-video basis but adds up with a back catalogue over years of productions)

Sponsorship deals, which allegedly contributes almost 50% of their annual revenue.

Merch sales, which is about to crash if the only people they can promote merch to are already paying per month in their smaller ecosystem.

Patreon. Why would someone pay $5.99 twice, for the same or less content?

And they've abandoned all of this for maybe a few thousand people who will probably end up paying just $12 a year when a new spoopy season arrives for them to binge.

I'm no Will Hunting, but no matter how hard I try to make the numbers work they just don't, and I don't need Robin Williams to tell me it's not my fault.

This ain't nice, y'all

Some of you are feeling like Ned's wife right now, and some of you will have no idea what that's in reference to.

Most of you will hate that I made that reference more than you hated the SNL skit.

I get it.

Maybe the worst part about all of his, from a viewer's perspective, is the dismissive nature of their sign-off.

They didn't mention the Patreon members once, not one single time in the whole video. It's like they consider the Patreon "too YouTube". They're the deformed cousin locked in the attic. They're the relative who wasn't invited to the wedding because they can't afford a Tom Ford suit. They're the colleague who isn't invited to the staff night out because they only work in accounting and no one has anything in common with Janice anyway.

These are diehard fans who were actually paying them extra to support them and enjoy a little bonus behind the scenes, and the boys didn't even consider them worthy of an utterance.

They also finished with "If you don't follow us and pay up it's been real, peace out". I'm paraphrasing, but that's basically what it was.

They spent so much of the video saying how awesome and great it was that the fans and YouTube got them to this point, but they didn't thank their Patreon members, and they ended with a blunt suggestion that if you don't follow them and pay more then you're not a real fan anyway and they don't really need you.

"Thanks for getting us here, sucks to be you, bye now!"

You made them wealthy, you helped them hire 25 people, you helped them increase production value to "TV caliber" even though you didn't ask for that, but your job is done and now you're superfluous. Only the real fans are wanted.

In the words of the great George Carlin - "It's a big club, and you ain't in it".

They're okay losing the vast majority of the people who got them here if a few thousand of those are comfortable enough to be able to pay $60 a year for a YouTube channel.

Can it get worse? Sure!

We've had a weekend to enjoy the constant heat of this bonfire and it's predictably worsened with each hour of silence from the company and its employees.

The fact that they haven't back-tracked, despite almost unanimous agreement that this is badder than the baddest thing that could happen to their company, suggests they're okay with it.

Consensus seems to be that they knew it would be this bad, and they're cool. They predicted 90% of people would scream "Boo to you good sirs! Boo indeed!" and they could still survive on the 10% who don't see a problem here.

The lack of response reinforces the narrative that they're totally fine with discarding almost their entire audience if they can just squeeze the cash they need out of whoever is left.

This ain't fixable, y'all (maybe)

Note: I don't want this to be mean, but it's going to sound a little bitchy no matter how I try to say it.

If they'd brought out the Ukulele on Saturday, or even teased Ukulele's on their socials before putting out a video on Sunday, they probably could have survived this with much hand-wringing and a little groveling.

But now I think they've grilled this Kobe steak for far too long.

They've lost 100K subscribers, and counting. The venom among Patreon members is allegedly worse than the public comments section under the video, which is startling. Dozens of YouTubers are torching them harder than a $100 crème brûlée.

People are scraping their channel content in case it's nuked.

Shane "eat the rich" Madej's sentiments over the last few years look disingenuous, to say the least. To shamelessly steal someone else's comment: "Imagine being all 'eat the rich' right before throwing yourself on the plate". He's silent while his McMansion burns down, at his own hands. "Why not!?" indeed.

Steven "I drive a Tesla" Lim's socials now make him look like a tech-bro try-hard and his use of words like "early adopter" and "soft launch" in the video only compound the belief that this was all his brainchild. He is the CEO, and that comes with responsibility and the associated blame. You can't steer the ship into the Bermuda Triangle and then disappear without looking like the bad guy.

Okay, you can disappear, but that convoluted metaphor is a mystery for someone else to solve.

Ryan "TV caliber" Bergara now sounds like an elitist who thinks YouTube is "too pedestrian" for his big plans, not big enough to meet his artistic vision. You see, he's more James Cameron, while YouTube is more like your student film club. He's grown beyond this pesky platform with billions of daily hits offering exponential growth with almost zero financial risk.

Even if they released a video today admitting they messed up big time it's still going to be hard to get the taste of this Ghost Pepper Warhead out of the collective mouth of their viewers.

This hasn't just burned their shared brand, it's singed their individual reputations among an audience upon which their careers rely.

What they should have done, on Saturday, is release a video (Ukulele or no) confessing their error. They should have announced their new platform will instead just be a bigger and better Patreon, with early access to everything, behind-the-scenes content, extra features, audience interaction etc.

They should have reversed to make clear their YouTube channel will stay the priority, their main source of revenue, but that you could get more on their own platform if you want it.

And, maybe, over time, people will pay for that. If they grow their channel to 6 million subscribers in the next 4 years there will be a couple hundred thousand of them willing and able to pay $5.99 a month for 8 years of shows, 8 years of behind the scenes content, 8 years of community involvement and regular early access to new episodes.

Maybe then they could try out their "privileged guys eat expensive food in expensive places" show and see how it does? Maybe a majority of people won't be living on the cusp of poverty by then and it won't look as tone-deaf as a 13 year old YouTuber trying to cover Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah"? Maybe then they could hire another 50 people and make Bergara's "TV caliber" (I still don't know exactly what that means) game shows and reboots?

The clock has been ticking since they hit that "publish" button on their career ending video, but that clock is about to count down to zero and silence will permeate throughout their previously lively community.

That 1980s basement set needed someone crying in the corner, right?

The problem is, their own platform is not a terrible idea. Really, it's not the worst thing they could do. The badness came in the timing, the switch, the middle finger and the f you. They could have released this as an extra, their own Patreon alternative, waited, developed it over time into something sustainable and established.

They could still try to do that and hope this dark chapter is forgotten.

Maybe I'm wrong? Maybe Lim is a financial genius with more skill than the management of Rooster Teeth and their corporate parent company combined? Maybe this gamble will be wildly successful despite all streaming services down-sizing or just going bankrupt? Maybe they won't be back on YouTube in 3-6 months begging for views after having to lay off 20 of their employees?

I know this... if I were one of those 25 employees blind faith would not be enough to stop me from looking for another job.

I suppose this will, for now, remain... a mystery.

EDIT:

I'm not writing another essay about this, but I'm glad to see they've backtracked and made the right choice to use WatcherTV as any sane creator would - to host early access and exclusive content in addition to their YouTube channel.

Over time, while promoting it in every video, building up that trust and fan base, it can be a secure and long-term financial bonus helping them to expand their business incrementally as finances allow.

Why this wasn't the plan all along is anyone's guess. Gambling everything on this was never the sane decision.

I still think they need to scale back on costs. I still think the food content is not currently a viable source of income while being a serious drain on resources. I still think they need to stop hiring all their friends and they need to hire one person who doesn't have personal relationships with everyone there and can make the tough business decisions.

No one likes firing people, it's ten times worse when it's a friend. But this is a reality of business and just wishing it wasn't so isn't going to make it go away. It would be awesome if we could all run a business where we can hire all our friends and family, never have to rely on any outside funding, make whatever we want, make a great living in one of the most expensive cities in the world and continue to grow.

That's just not the reality.

Their apology was genuine, in my opinion. I just hope they can work out the right financial balance.

[mimisempai]

We don't need to stop anymore

Summary

A goodbye kiss on the doorstep of the bookshop reminds Aziraphale of an aborted kiss on the same spot in 1941.

Notes

50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts

Kiss #40: A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them.

On Ao3

Rating G -  547 words

Crowley grabbed his glasses from the horse statuette, put them on his nose, and called to Aziraphale, "Angel, I'm off to the planetarium! Bye!"

Suddenly, the angel appeared from a shelf, walked toward him, and said sulkily, "You're just leaving without saying goodbye?"

Leaning against the door, Crowley replied, "I just did, didn't I?"

Aziraphale shook his head, answering, "Not properly."

The demon chuckled softly before leaning over the angel now standing in front of him and planted a light kiss on his lover's soft lips.

As he straightened up, Aziraphale couldn't help but think back to another farewell on the doorstep of the bookshop many decades ago.

"Well, maybe there is something to be said for..."

Aziraphale raised his glass to Crowley's and continued, "...shades of gray."

The demon clinked his glass against hers and replied, "Well, shades of...dark gray."

As he took a sip, Aziraphale countered, "Shades of a very light gray, I'd rather fancy."

As his gaze lingered on the demon, he realized something and asked, "Tell me, Crowley, why didn't you take off your hat and glasses?"

Crowley swallowed his drink in one gulp and replied, "Because I'm leaving.

Aziraphale, disappointed, said quietly, "Oh... well."

Throat tight, he struggled to finish his drink. He wanted Crowley to stay a little longer.

A few moments later, they were outside, on the doorstep of the book store.

Crowley said gently to Angel, running his hand along the brim of his hat in a sort of salute, "Thanks again, Angel, for saving my butt at the theater, and thanks for trusting me with, you know..."

He mimed the gesture of firing a gun to finish his sentence.

Aziraphale replied, "I've been trusting you for thousands of years, my dear."

"Well, again, thank you. I'm leaving now, Angel. Bye."

Crowley was about to turn when the angel whispered, "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

Crowley swallowed before replying, "Stop looking at me like that. You know I can't refuse you anything if you look at me like that."

Aziraphale just breathed, "Please."

Crowley leaned forward and Aziraphale closed his eyes.

He felt the demon's breath come closer to his face, but he barely had time to feel the touch of the demon's lips on his when a burst of laughter in the street caused them to quickly part.

It was just a group of drunken partygoers, but the spell was broken and this time there was nothing Aziraphale could do to stop the demon.

"Why are you smiling like that, Angel?"

The demon's voice snapped him back to reality and Aziraphale replied, "I was thinking about another goodbye on this very doorstep a long time ago."

Crowley raised an eyebrow and replied, "If you're thinking about something else while I'm kissing you, I must be doing it wrong."

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around the demon's neck and said playfully, "You can try again, come on, make me forget everything."

Crowley brought his face close and whispered against the angel's smiling lips, "Your wish is my command, Angel.

He pressed his lips to his lover's and this time the kiss quickly turned from light to passionate and not even the bustle of the busy street could pull them out of their little bubble of happiness.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable kisses series : here

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

[qqueenofhades]

That kiss in GO 206 was probably one of the most heartbreakingly romantic kisses I've ever seen. It was both !!!! and GOD WHY from the kiss to the look on Aziraphale's face when they broke away. I can see him going back to heaven only to later realize what he actually wants and get the F out of there to go find the love of his life.

IT WAS SO MUCH, GOD

From the whole Crowley-getting-ready-to-propose to Aziraphale's completely-in-denial insistence that they could go to Heaven and be together! Just like in the Beginning! To Aziraphale's anguished "I need you!" to Crowley just throwing six thousand years of pining to the winds as the cello music swells and going in for the Big Damn Kiss! Aziraphale's hand clutching his back! And then...

And then....

(Muffled sobbing)

Look, I'm not gonna lie. I love Stupid Homosexuals Who Can't Communicate and Unnecessarily Get Themselves Into a World of Self-Inflicted Hurt Because They Are Stupid. I love romantic but heartbreaking angst where the two halves of the ship both want the same thing, but can't agree on how to do it, and that ends up driving them (temporarily) apart. I love the villains desperately trying (and inevitably ultimately failing) to break the OTP up because they're just too powerful together. I love the whole "you have to clearly and explicitly choose what you want and defy the oppressive and cruel systems that have controlled you up to this point and are now taking you away from Your Person." And like I said, I honestly didn't think they were going to Go There with the kiss. I wanted them to, I wasn't sure how the story as it had been set up could progress without explicitly having a Big Romantic Moment and not just Super Totally Platonic Besties, but I still just... couldn't be sure.

Welp.

Anyway, Neil Gaiman has already said they all want to do a s3 to "give a satisfying ending to everyone we care about" and honestly, I do 100% trust him on this. This was the second-act cliffhanger, the Empire Strikes Back, the Han-and-Leia "I love you/I know" before Han is frozen in carbonite and taken away by the bad guys. It is a clear and obvious dramatic beat to set up for the ultimate resolution in a three-part trilogy. Yes, if this was the end of the story, it would suck. But it's not, and it just... makes me really, REALLY EXCITED for a potential s3, where Crowley and Aziraphale are canonically confirmed to be in Love-love and can actually fight for that, find out what it looks like, break free of old constraints, and get a happy ending that is narratively earned and not just given. So yeah.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Hi BPP

that fandom implosion you talked about previously, will happen sooner rather than later. JK is getting full on radio from day 1 apparently. On one hand wow, great, on the other, Like crazy could have and SHOULD have been the song of the summer.

There are so many moving parts beind the scenes, which we do not see that decide the kind of promo a song will get...Not negligible being the producer who is working with JK is a big deal in the industry,

anyway I would be very interested to read your take on this.

a radio DJ confirming the news https://twitter.com/JJRyanOnAir/status/1677384733989433344?s=20

***

Hi @atlantis315

Your link.

I’ve replied to your question here. Also copy-pasted the main gist of my views here:

“I think BangPD still fully values each and every member of BTS, and I don't think any member is being mistreated, abused, or grossly mismanaged. But BangPD is not their father, and his motivation to produce profit is more agnostic/cynical than a lot of ARMYs want to admit. But at the same time, you either trust BTS to handle their business as capable adults, or you don't. It's really that simple for me. More than anybody else, they know their own situation, and are certainly capable of handling themselves.”

*

Also, given that all D2C sales are now rendered moot for US charts, I’m very happy Jungkook’s song will be sent to radio, to make up for not having the tool that other releases have had to some degree. And it seems Scooter has a hand to do with that anyway, so while I find Scooter to be kind of a creep, I’m glad Seven gets the chance with radio to leave a mark of his own.

This doesn’t mean I think Like Crazy couldn’t have benefitted from being sent to radio. Without Scooter involved it’s unlikely to have gotten many spins (BTS with Dynamite/Butter peaked at ~80M AUD+ in radioplay, Miley Cyrus does 100M AUD+ on average with Flowers), but radio still would’ve been a boon for Jimin. Just as I think it would have been for Hobi, Joon, and the others. But also, a big part of me is okay with them not all having equal promotion tools. Not every solo release has had CDs, Tiny Desk performances, tours, festivals, remixes, multiple versions, and now radio. In Chapter 2, expecting them all to receive “equal treatment” in the outcome of promotion tools during their initial solo projects, isn’t something I think is worth losing sleep over. Because as I’ve said, I cannot want more for the rapline/Jimin/BTS’s career than BTS themselves, I cannot love them more than they love themselves, and I certainly don’t know more about their circumstances than they know themselves. If Jimin, Jungkook, Hobi, or anyone needs to handle BigHit because they believe their career is being mismanaged, they’re the last people who would hesitate to do something about it, especially at this point in their careers.

Also, far as I’m concerned, any member who gets achievements and records no matter how it compares to my biases, deserves it.

I agree with you that there’s a lot of moving parts behind the scenes. But. The hysteria over Ryan simply saying Seven is getting serviced to radio, (not even that it’s expected to impact radio - which is a very different thing), was due 100% to how fully solo and manti sentiment has permeated into the fandom. In my humble opinion. A few things fuelled the reaction to that announcement:

- First the chaos started as backlash from PJMs to the insults and ridicule Jimin suffered from other solos (JJKs, KTHs, MYGs, Blinks, Barbs, etc) when his promotion tools (mult versions/remixes etc) were announced, all while ARMYs pretended that abuse wasn’t happening to him or were oblivious to it. It would be infuriating for PJMs to see JJKs having access to a tool that in theory should make it easier to rack up achievements for the song.

- Then there’s the anger from many people who love Jimin and have had to deal with an unpredictable roll-out environment, between BB randomly deleting sales in the 10s of thousands (when for previous BTS releases they’ve only tried to delete a few thousand sales at most), and no immediate clarity from BigHit. Having radio as a tool would’ve made handling that disastrous handicap significantly less stressful for ARMYs, and overall would’ve helped Jimin. There’s a strong case for why BigHit should factor radio in for Jimin and other members especially now going forward, even if it might not be really played. But again, if they don’t, it’s not something I see as my personal wahala.

- The akgae theory of preferential treatment and company favourites for jikook has been almost fully absorbed not just in solo spaces, but also in ARMY spaces primarily through shippers - and that’s how it always happens. The reason taekookers are the only people alongside Tae solo stans claiming that Beyond The Story is a HYBE psyop, is because they’re the only groups of people who have drank the koolaid about Tae’s neglect at the hands BangPD for the other members’ benefit. A lot of jikookers now believe the same for Jimin, and PJMs hold that belief as a canon creed anyway. Which is a bit funny IMO when you hear how JJKs see the whole thing. Because the similarities in narratives are so uncanny lol.

- Nobody asked but I personally think BangPD is out of touch. He seems to have really fanciful ideas that sometimes make me wonder how solid is his grasp of the situation he’s in. He strikes me as a bit complacent, but again, that’s just me looking from the outside in and it’s ultimately BTS’s business to deal with their boss and manager of ~13 years. Not mine.

There’s a few more factors that influenced why shit blew up a couple days ago IMO, even before the song is released, but anyway, I saw your ask earlier but didn’t care to involve myself in the hysteria on Tumblr/Twitter right away. So please see the above as a summary of what I think if you’re still curious.

Like Crazy is still stable because a lot of ARMYs are streaming it. Solos and locals too, because it’s just a very good song that’s easy to listen to and catchy as hell. FACE is not the only solo project we’ll see in Jimin’s career. I doubt it’s even going to be a significantly defining album outside of being his debut. I need a lot of people to breathe deeply and think about what exactly is happening here in this team of seven men, not just in the universe of maknae-line narratives and myths.

Or you know, just do whatever you like. My opinion is unpopular, and so I think the implosion is pretty much on track for 2024. Hopefully I’m very wrong lol.

[itsbeeble]

Merry Bad Ending

Summary: He'd been sent to protect you, to guide you, and keep you on the path the fates had set for you. He knew he couldn't get involved with you, it went against everything he was taught. But he can't help it, can't help but love you no matter the consequences.

Genre: Angst, fluff, Guardian Angel!au, Soulmate!au

Pairing: Lee Hyunjae x fem!reader (feat. oc, Eric, Sunwoo, Sangyeon, and I think that's it)

WC: 8.5k (I'm sorry)

WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT

Warnings: mentions of religion (mainly Christianity); hurt and kinda comfort; age gap (I'm sorry. Reader will be 24 and Hyunjae will appear 25 but is actually a couple thousand years old); major character death; illness; honestly there isn’t a ton of romance it’s just kinda sad (there will still be some); mentions of death; violence; minor injuries; threats of death (Hyunjae gets violent); illness (LOTS OF IT); alcohol mentions and consumption; Idk let me know if I missed something; brief mentions of kind of bad home life; rude friends; swearing; MINORS DNI 18+

Listen to Merry Bad Ending by The Boyz if you want idk

A/N: yall i'm sorry this took so long and I'm sorry if it isn't my best work. I didn't really wanna do anything too romantic for this one, so there's no spice this time bjghsugs. I hope you enjoy it either way!

~

Hyunjae remembered when he was first assigned to you. You were both young—  at least, you were. You’d been seven at the time, young, curious, and ready to learn about all the cruel things the world could throw at you. He’d appeared to you in the form of a 25-year-old man. Tall, fluffy brown hair, and a pretty face. He looked so young, and he enjoyed the attention that was drawn to him. He enjoyed seeing the human population watch this young man walk by in black clothes, soaked by the rain as if he hadn’t a care in the world. They weren’t aware of who he was. They didn’t know that he couldn’t feel the cold, couldn’t get sick from the rain that was slowly falling from the clouds above them. It always rained when a Guardian began their assignment. Some religions take the rain as a sign that God is angry with them, but only a few know the truth. 

This storm is a goodbye, as the angels will not see their Father or their brethren for a long time. Not until their assignment is fulfilled. Nobody knows where they will be until they are finished. No one except for their Father. Hyunjae hadn’t seen his brother, Sangyeon, in over 600 years. He has no idea where he is, and no idea if he is alive. All he knows is that he is assigned to a bloodline and that he has to care for them all until there is no one left. That can take anywhere from 100 to 1,000 years. 

A crack of thunder overhead. 

Children run to their yelling parents as rain begins to pour down. 

He walks slowly, watching you in your little violet jacket and black rain boots. You sit on the mulch, playing with trucks and ignoring the way your little body is shaking from the cold. Hyunjae sniffs, pushing his sopping wet hair behind his ear as he opens the umbrella in his hand and holds it over you. You don’t notice at first, so focused on that old, yellow toy truck that was covered in stains and rain and all sorts of things that would have your parents yelling for you to put the toy down and play on the swings. 

Parents. That’s right. Your parents. They should be here with you, why aren’t they here with you?

“Who are you?” You’re looking at him now, big eyes full of curiosity and caution. Good. Your parents at least taught you not to trust strangers you meet on the street. 

Hyunjae takes a moment to think. Should he introduce himself yet? Should he tell you his human name or the name his Father gave him?

“My name is Hyunjae,” he flashes a smile at you. Angelic, stunning, everything an angel should be. Your mouth parts in awe. That dopey little lip part that children get when they’re stunned by something. “What are you doing out here all on your own, little bug?”

“I’m waiting for my mommy. She said she would be here soon!” You smile brightly and continue playing with the truck. Hyunjae frowns. 

“When was that?” You shrug.

“I dunno. Before school.”

“And…when was school?” You scowl at him.

“You sure ask a lot of questions, Mister Hyunjae.” Your lack of trust is amusing. Hyunjae crouches down, making sure that the umbrella stays over your head.

“You don’t ask enough, little bug.”

“Why are you calling me a bug?” You turn towards him finally, crossing your legs and folding your hands neatly on your lap. “Bugs are gross, Mister.” He laughs and you crack a smile. 

“Bugs aren’t gross, silly.” He lifts his arms, his hand palm-side down. When he flips his hand over, there’s a butterfly on his fingers, fluttering its wings and waiting to fly. “At least, not all of them. This butterfly is fairly beautiful, don’t you think?” 

Your eyes are wide with amazement, and he watches you try to do what he did. 

“How did you do that!?” You cry. “That’s so cool!”

“Maybe one day I’ll teach you, little bug.” He pats your head, and you beam at him. The butterfly drifts from his finger, and Hyunjae shifts so you can’t see the small, beautiful creature struggle to reach the large oak tree behind you. 

~

You’re nine now. Two years, and yet somehow he’s never seen your parents. He’s watched every day as you leave your house and trudge down the busy sidewalk to get to your school two miles away. He walks where no one can see him except you, and he watches you look at him out of the corner of your eyes. Hyunjae sees the curiosity and the annoyance whenever you see him, and it couldn’t make him more amused. 

“Why are you always following me?” You ask him one day. He’s standing beside you while you swing, giving you a little push here and there. People can see him now, and the mothers are cooing about what a nice young man, playing with his niece. He rolls his eyes at them. 

“I’m not following you. You just happen to be going everywhere I need to be.”

“Are you sure? And why haven’t you changed at all?” You ask him. He just smiles. “And also, why couldn’t anybody see you when we were at school? I was talking to you and Eric and he thought I was crazy for some reason.” You stop your swing and kick the dirt with a pout. Hyunjae crouches beside you and puts his finger under your chin to lift your head. There are tears in your eyes, and he frowns at that.

“Why are you crying, little bug?” You don’t speak at first, your lip trembling and your eyes shining. Hyunjae lifts his hand, and when he flips it over there’s a butterfly. A monarch, just like the last time. He holds his hand out for you to hold the small insect, but you just start sobbing. The butterfly, now startled, flutters off toward the road. He watches as a car zips by the poor creature, and he doesn’t see it fly away. When he looks back at you, you’re trying to wipe your tears. 

They don’t stop, and he wraps a hand around your shoulders, pulling you in for a tight hug that you find yourself returning. He feels you shaking against him, feels the tears starting to soak into his crisp black button-down shirt.

“Y/N,” he says your name in a quiet yet stern voice. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” You sniffle against his chest and he sighs.

“I don’t wanna die like mommy.” His body goes rigid and you pull away from him. 

“What did you say?” He breathes out. 

“I don’t wa-wanna d-die like m-mommy.” You hiccup and Hyunjae’s eyes become dark with an emotion you haven’t seen before, and he can only pray to his Father that you never have to. 

“You aren’t going to, little bug.” He promises. “Not if I can help it.”

~

That night he speaks to his Father. He finds himself alone in the park, sitting on the same swing you had when you spoke to him. 

I don’t wanna die like mommy. 

You’d been so afraid when you said that, and he couldn’t help the twinge in his heart. Sometimes it was hard to be a Guardian. You weren’t allowed to stop the fate of your assignment. You weren’t allowed to change details. You could only sit and watch and turn your eyes away when things got bad. Most angels turned their emotions off like a switch, only acting as if they cared for their assignments until it was done. 

Hyunjae couldn’t do that. He had promised Sangyeon that, no matter the cost, he wouldn’t turn them off. He intended to keep that promise. 

“You asked to see me.” 

A voice around him. Not in front, or behind, or on either side. It surrounds him as if it was the water in a lake he’d submerged himself in. He flinches at the sound but doesn’t raise his eyes.

“It’s good to see you, Father.” No response, so Hyunjae continues. “Why didn’t you tell me anything about my assignment?”

“You knew everything you needed to know about the girl. Nothing else matters.”

“She’s only a child, and she’s terrified of dying like her mother. How can that be what the fates have intended for her?” Hyunjae keeps his voice level, but his hands are beginning to shake with anger. 

“Are you questioning your abilities to continue this assignment?”

“No, Father.” Hyunjae shakes his head and sighs. “I’m just…I want to understand why you did this.” There’s a warm feeling across his shoulders, and he feels his body beginning to relax. There’s a comfort in his Father’s shadowy embrace, one that he cherishes no matter what he feels for Him. 

“You will understand when you are both ready. For now, proceed as you were. There is still time.” Hyunjae’s eyebrows knit together and he raises his head at last. The warm embrace has vanished, along with the overwhelming presence that had accompanied it. 

“The hell do you mean there’s still time?” He mutters, rising to his feet and taking a few steps forward. “Time for what?”

~

Hyunjae watches as you celebrate your sixteenth birthday with a few of your close friends. There’s a smile on your face while you cut the cake and open presents, but he can see something weighing on you. He can see the emotions rolling off of you in waves, even when you smile brightly at him. 

A storm rages outside your house, and Hyunjae can only imagine what is happening in the heavens above him.

“Are you two dating?” He hears one of your friends ask, but you vehemently deny it. You claim that he’s far too old for you, that he’s just a family friend that’s in town for a while. One of your friends side-eyes him and he raises an eyebrow. He does admit that, in his black attire, he does look mildly intimidating. He understands where she’s coming from and why she’d be suspicious of him. 

Hyunjae doesn’t acknowledge her otherwise, keeping his narrowed eyes on you for the rest of the night. As a Guardian, he should be able to gauge some idea of what you’re thinking and feeling. He should be able to gauge your health status, whether you’re sick or not. He senses nothing from you. 

He senses nothing and that’s terrifying.

“You okay, man?” Eric is beside him, gazing curiously at the older man that he’s almost positive hasn’t aged a day in seven years. He’s the same height, has the same broad shoulders and chiseled jaw, and his eyes haven’t formed the wrinkled lines many 30-something-year-olds have. He still has that smooth, unblemished skin that looks perfect always.

“I’m fine,” Hyunjae tilts his head to the side, gazing at the younger boy. He eyes the little acne scars on the young boy's face, the dried strands of his bleached hair, and the lankiness of his limbs. He knows the boy will grow into himself. He knows the fate of nearly everyone in this room, save for you. Guardians can’t know their assignment’s fate. They can only guide them down the path they deem correct. Everyone else, though? Their fates are open for practically everyone to see. 

Eric, for example, falls into a downward spiral when he’s twenty-five. Mental health is his downfall, and he never recovers. 

The girl that gave him a dirty look won’t make it past her second year of college. Poor child.

“What’s your skincare routine?” Eric blurts out suddenly, and Hyunjae raises an eyebrow. “I just— your skin is really smooth and I really just want to know what your routine is. I have a lot of, uh, blemishes?” The more Hyunjae looks at the young boy, the more nervous Eric seems to get. Hyunjae smiles at this, smiles knowing that he is, in fact, superior to the human race in more ways than deemed important. 

“Just basic cleansers, some moisturizer. Face mask here and there.” Eric nods quickly, foolheartedly believing the lie, and Hyunjae can practically see him making a list of things he needs. 

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” Eric claps Hyunjae on the shoulder, grimacing at the solid impact and the pain that shot up his wrist. “Maybe I should get your gym routine, too. Shit, you’re built like a goddamn brick wall.”

“You shouldn’t swear too much,” Hyunjae sniffs and kicks himself off the wall. “Never know who might be watching over you.”

~

When your friends leave, you finally allow yourself to sit, and Hyunjae watches as you put your head in your hand and just sit at the small dining room table. The small waves of emotion are becoming tsunamis, and though he can’t tell exactly what you’re feeling, he knows that you’re upset by something. He knows that there’s something wrong, something that he can’t figure out. 

“Little bug,” he sits down next to you, his large frame practically dwarfing yours. “Can I tell you a story?”

You look at him, your eyes heavy with emotion. You try to smile, but he can see how difficult it is and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“You heard of God, and of Adam and Eve, and Lucifer, and all of them. You’ve heard the Bible stories and learned of the angels that fought against the demons.” You nod and he proceeds. “Have you heard of the angels that stood alongside them? Not the ones that were deemed threats, or ones that everyone could see. Ones that protected them, and guided them along their fated paths.”

“What, guardian angels?” Your eyes are curious again and he smiles. “I mean, I’ve heard people talk about them but I’ve never seen them in Bible stories or anything like that.”

“That’s because they aren’t in the Bible,” Hyunjae explains. “God made it clear from the start that these Guardians weren’t to inform their…people of their existence. Guardians were to play alongside the children, befriend the adults, and take the form of whatever they found their people needed.”

“If they weren’t supposed to be common knowledge, why do you know so much about them?” You ask, and Hyunjae shrugs. “And why are you telling me this?”

“Such a curious little bug,” he nudges you and you crack a smile. A real, beautiful smile that warms every inch of his body. “I’m telling you this because I want you to know that even if it doesn’t feel like it, there is somebody watching over you. Someone is here to protect you, keep you safe, and ensure that you’re happy, even if it doesn’t feel like it sometimes. I want you to know that maybe your guardian angel is closer than you think, lingering out of the corner of your eye. Just out of sight when you turn your head.” 

From his pocket, he pulls out a little box wrapped in violet paper. There’s a bow on the top, black and satiny. Your eyes widen when he places the box in your palm and squeezes your shoulder. 

“Open it.”

“You didn’t have to, Hyunjae…” He just shrugs. 

“No, I didn’t. But I did.” You smile and gently do your best not to rip the delicate wrapping paper while opening your gift. Despite your efforts, Hyunjae watches you wince at the small tear in the paper. 

“You don’t have to be so careful,” he tells you, “it’s just paper.” You shake your head.

“Purple is my favorite color, you should know this by now Jae.” He just sits back against the couch cushion and lets you open the jewelry box he’d gotten you. You look back at him with a confused pout and he just gestures for you to open it. 

A necklace. Thin silver chain, and a pendant attached. 

A butterfly made of delicately crafted wings. There are jewels attached to the butterfly, creating the wings and the eyes. 

“Diamonds?” Your eyes narrow and he feels his heart sink a bit. Did you hate it? “Jae, how did you afford this?”

“Call it a family heirloom,” he lies. “My mother’s.”

“Your mother had a brand new diamond necklace just hanging around the house, and you gave it to me instead of giving it to your girlfriend?” You turn fully toward him and scowl. “Lee Hyunjae you shouldn’t have gotten me a gift so expensive.”

“Why not?” He challenges.

“I’m not worth this much!” It’s his turn to scowl.

“You know that’s not true, little bug. You’re worth far more than you know.”

~

Hyunjae hovers over your shoulder, watching you bite at your nails while you write your essay.

“I still don’t understand why colleges make you write these things.” His fingers wrap around the back of your chair and you roll your neck. Your head brushes against his abdomen and you flinch away. 

“They want to know about us, what makes us good candidates. Now can you read this and make sure it sounds like a sob story?” He rolls his eyes when you push him into the chair and take his position. 

You’d written about your mom. About how she got sick when you were little, and about how your dad was basically never there. You wrote about how you would walk yourself to school every day, and walk yourself to the nearby park until your sick mother could get you. Often, you would be at the park until the sun went down and the street lights would come on. 

“This is sad,” Hyunjae takes a pause and your eyes shoot to him nervously.

“Good sad or bad sad?”

“Good. Let me finish reading.” You nod and he turns back to the computer screen. 

Halfway through the essay, he sees something familiar. 

You’d written about him. About how he helped you stay alive through those hard times. How he, this mysterious man that claimed to be a family friend, was the only consistent person in your life. How he helped you grow into the woman that he’d convinced you was real, and that you didn’t have to struggle through life on your own.

“You called me your guardian angel?” His lips twitch into a smile and you laugh nervously. 

“I— I just meant that— that you were always there for me, y’know?” You spit out quickly. “You kept me on the right path, even when I started going astray.” Hyunjae’s smile grows and he lifts himself out of the chair. 

“Little bug, I didn’t do anything. Every choice you made, every path you chose, that was you. I was just a bit of moral support,” he denies, even though he knows you’re right. Although, you don’t need to know that he’s literally your guardian angel. You don’t need to know that yes, he was guiding you through the motions. He kept your boat from capsizing from even the most dangerous waves. 

He can’t take all the credit for your success, even when it was due. 

Still, you squeeze his shoulder and place your chin on his shoulder while he reads. His hands are beginning to shake, and he isn’t quite sure why. 

“What do you think?” You ask, and he feels your breath brushing against his ear. His skin grows warm. 

“I think it’s very well done.” He starts to rise from the chair and you take a few steps back, sitting on the mattress of your bed. He crosses his arms, steeling his body so you can’t see the shaking of his hands, the sweat on his neck. “I think these colleges would be foolish to not accept you.”

“You think so?” You’re hopeful, and he smiles, walking toward you until he’s hardly a foot away from you.

“I know so, little bug.” Your body goes rigid when you feel his lips against your forehead. Your cheeks go ablaze, the heat spreading down your neck. It’s the first time he’d shown this kind of true affection toward you, and you aren’t quite sure what to do with it. 

He’s still smiling when he pulls back, laughing to himself when he sees your stunned expression.

“You keep working, I’ll go make some food.”

~

You were twenty-one when Hyunjae finally gave up on stopping you from going to parties. For years he’d forced you to stay home, to “not waste your time getting shit-faced with a bunch of nobodies who couldn’t give less of a shit about you”. He’d caught you a number of times when you tried to sneak out the window of your dorm room, sitting in the tree you were going to climb down in a flimsy skirt and some heels. He’d stopped you from sneaking out the main doors by waking your RA. Anything you could think of trying, he somehow already knew and was prepared to stop you.

“I’m just keeping you safe,” he’d say with a smirk and a shrug. “Besides, you won’t have to sneak out in a couple of years. Just hold off a little longer, focus on your studies, and hang out with your friends at a cafe or something.”

“What am I supposed to say when they ask me why I keep ditching them?” You stomp your foot, and Hyunjae raises an eyebrow. 

“Tell them your guardian angel said no.” You think he’s kidding, that he isn’t taking you seriously, and that he’s mocking you. He isn’t, and he wishes he could tell you that but he could be killed.

When he finally does let you go, he comes with you and Eric, playing along as your chauffeur and as a guest. You’re a bit too excited, and Eric has to calm you down before Hyunjae puts the car in park. He can see you looking at him out of the corner of your eye, eyeing him up and down. He’s smirking. It isn’t as if he’s dressed up, at least no more than he usually is. A white tee shirt, a leather jacket that’s been left unzipped, some black pants, and black boots. No change from his usual colors, just a bit more style to fit in more with the college kids. 

Nobody would question a 25-year-old at a college party. Half the men in the frat were nearing that age anyway, and Hyunjae’s lip curled in disgust when he saw one chatting up a freshman, just barely out of high school. 

He feels your arm looping through his, and his gaze turns back to you. You’re talking with Eric, and he sees your arm also looped through his. You want to keep them both close, at least for a while. Hyunjae’s eyes narrowed at the young boy. Since high school, he’s put on some muscle and cleaned up the acne he’d been so worried about. He’d have no problem finding someone to settle down with, and he knows the Guardian watching over Eric is pleased with this.

“…don’t you think, Jae?” You look up at him expectantly, your eyes glittering with excitement. You don’t know he has no idea what you said, and he doesn’t plan on you finding out so he smiles and nods.

“Sure thing, little bug.” 

The music is overwhelmingly loud. Not nearly the loudest party he’d had to attend, but nonetheless he hated every second he was in the disgusting house. You and Eric had peeled off in another direction, somewhere across the room and he was on the landing, leaning on the banister with a half-empty red cup in one of his hands. Every time he takes a sip from the plastic cup, he grimaces at the disgusting taste. Human alcohol had become more and more disgusting as the years dragged on. Every time he was dragged to an event, such as this one, he prayed to his father that the drinks wouldn’t get any worse. And, every time, his prayers went unanswered. 

“Hey,” a girl appears at his side and he doesn’t even spare her a glance. “What’s a handsome man like yourself doing at a party like this?” She’s too close for comfort, her clothing too revealing for his taste. He scoffs, ignoring her. She keeps talking. “You seem a bit too old to be going to lame frat parties. Shouldn’t you be at a bar or at a club?” Now he looks at her, his eyebrow raised. She smiles, her lips colored ruby red and her eyes flashing with mischief. 

“I go to the university.”

“My point still stands.” He sighs, returning to leaning over the banister. You’re talking with a man now, and he picks up bits of your conversation. 

My name’s Sunwoo.

Y/N.

What’s a pretty girl like yourself doing at a party like this?

Humans, similarly to their drinks, get less and less creative with time. Recycling the same useless tactics over and over again until someone is desperate enough to fall for it. 

Sunwoo twirls a piece of your hair around your finger, and Hyunjae’s teeth grind together at the way you swoon. Of course, you would be one to fall for the stupid comments and greetings. Of course.

“You seem awfully close to that girl.” Hyunjae rolls his eyes.

“What’s it to you?”

“You should be careful.” Her finger is trailing down his arm now. “You never know what sort of evil will catch up with the two of you.” His body goes rigid and his head snaps to the side. 

Her eyes are boring into his, red meeting gold. She’s still smiling, her hand still trailing up and down his arm. Hyunjae bites down on his tongue, rising to stand straight. 

“What are you doing here?” He hisses. The demon beside him just continues to smile. 

“I’m a warning. Someone sent me to warn you, Guardian.”

“Who sent you?” He yanks his arm out of her grasp, and she sighs. 

“I can’t tell you that, Guardian. But you should be careful. They’re watching, waiting. Soon enough, they will take one of you. They don’t care which.” The demon begins to back up, and Hyunjae follows. To anyone around, it may look like she’s seducing him. Bringing him to one of the bedrooms upstairs. 

“Why should I believe you?” 

“Your brother did.” She shrugs and Hyunjae’s breath hitches. “In fact, he sends his regards from his assignment. The man he was assigned to recently got married and his wife is now pregnant. You should be proud of them.”

“Why do you know Sangyeon?” 

“I told you, I’m just here to warn you.” 

She’s gone before he can respond, disappearing into the crowd and no matter how he strains his neck, he can’t spot her anymore. But he sees you. You’re alone now, and Sunwoo seems to have found a new interest in a pretty girl by the “bar”. He walks over to you, shoving through the crowd and ignoring those who snap at him. 

When your eyes lock on his, that warm feeling returns to his chest. All thoughts of the demon have disappeared, and now his mind is consumed by you. Protecting you, caring for you, being with you, having you. 

“Jae?” Your voice is soft, barely audible even with his superior hearing. Your eyes are wide, staring up at him. Your hand is wrapped around his jacket, holding tightly. “Is everything okay?” He isn’t sure what comes over him. Maybe it’s the thought of someone hurting you. The thought of losing you. Maybe he’s scared of failing his assignment. Maybe he’s scared of failing you. He isn’t sure, but whatever it is has him drawing to him, his hand tilting your head up. He can hear and feel your heart beginning to pound. Hyunjae feels your grip on his jacket tighten, feels you beginning to stand on your toes. 

You’re inches away from him, the two of you tucked into a darker corner of the party with not a soul watching the two of you. His hand is still loosely gripping your chin, the other holding your waist. Your skin is warm to the touch, almost too warm. He watches your eyes, the way they begin to flutter shut and the way you almost seem to lean into him. 

His lips brush against your forehead, and you flinch against his touch. He goes to pull back but you keep him close, holding him against you. The two of you don’t move for a while. You just stand in that corner, holding each other as if you’re afraid the other will let go too soon.

~

You were just barely starting your third year of college when it happened. Just barely starting to live when your life was ripped out of your hands. 

See, the thing about illnesses is that sometimes they take time. Sometimes they are slow acting, and you don’t see them until late in the victim’s life. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you don’t get symptoms at all and are able to pass away peacefully. Sometimes those slow-acting illnesses begin to show, but treatments work quickly and they’re able to be stopped. 

But sometimes, on certain occasions, that isn’t the case. Sometimes illness strikes out of nowhere, sinking its teeth into the nearest unsuspecting victim. It latches on, feating until there is nothing left but a shell of the person that once was. 

You were linked up to monitors, needles sticking in your arms, and a number of nurses and doctors standing around your bedside. 

Unconscious.

That’s how Hyunjae found you. You were unconscious, and your skin was pale. Your eyes were sunken in. A doctor tries to make him leave, but there was something in the Guardian’s eyes that had the older man stumbling over his words and averting his eyes. 

It was a look of unfathomable rage. Like he had more power inside him, and such contempt for the world that he could cause more damage than the wrath of God. 

Hyunjae walked forward, pushing past the nurses trying to protest. In the reflection of one of the monitors, he could see his eyes. They were gold. Not just little flecks, not a shade of yellow that televisions tried to excuse as gold, but pure, vibrant gold. The anger in them darkened them, but anyone who looked into this man’s eyes was struck with awe. With amazement, confusion, and horror when they, past the screaming voices in their mind that told them death was imminent, realized how much danger they were in.

“What happened to her?” The doctor behind Hyunjae stuttered over his words again, and Hyunjae turns around. When he spoke again, it was as if there were millions of voices speaking all at once, overwhelming the medical professionals. “What. Happened. To. Her.”

“We…we aren’t sure yet,” the doctor breathed out, lowering his gaze to the floor. “It— she was brought here by a young man. He said that she collapsed in the middle of a presentation. It could be nothing, we just want to make sure.”

“If it was nothing,” Hyunjae hissed out and there was a swell of triumph when he sees the fear in the doctor’s eyes, “she would not be here, would she?”

“N-No, sir, I suppose not.” The doctor whimpered. 

“Fix her.” The order was clear, and the doctor knew without saying that his next phrase was not a threat, but a promise. “Fix her, or I swear on thy God that I will kill each and every last one of you. I will kill you, and I will kill your families, and I will kill anyone that you have even passed on the street if that’s what it takes for you to comprehend the importance of this.”

“Calm yourself, Hyunjae.” A hand on his shoulder, and he feels something inside of him jolt. His heart, maybe. He can feel it beginning to pound, can feel his lungs empty of air. “We don’t need any accidents today.”

For a moment, he just stands there frozen. He doesn’t know if he should turn around. Doesn’t know if he should react positively or negatively. Hyunjae’s heart is pounding, and for that moment he stands frozen, the fear and the anger begin to kick in.

“Sangyeon,” Hyunjae breathes out. His brother is smiling when he turns around. He’s smiling, and healthy, and he’s alive. “You’re…you’re here? But— but how did you— how are you—”

The doctors have left the room, and he can hear them whispering amongst each other. They’re debating calling the police, or just leaving him be. Someone picks up a phone, and Sangyeon pulls Hyunjae to the side, ducking into an empty hospital room and shutting the door. 

“How are you here?” Hyunjae hisses, pushing his brother back against the wall. There’s pain in his voice. Fear, even. There’s no possible way that Sangyeon could have found him. Guardians can’t track each other. They have no way of finding each other when on assignments. 

“You have to know the truth.” Sangyeon doesn’t push his younger brother away, just lets himself be shoved against the wall with a strong hand digging into his chest. Something warm is beginning to burn against his skin, and he bites down on his tongue to numb the pain. “Someone had to tell you, and it wasn’t going to be our Father.”

“What are you talking about?” Hyunjae pulls his hand away when smoke begins to rise from under his palm, tightening his hand into a fist to cool himself off. “What truth?”

“About this assignment. Didn’t she warn you?” The door behind them opens and closes, and Hyunjae whips around. His hands are glowing, radiating with heat that begins the catch on the fabric of the bed next to him. The woman— the demon he’d met just a year prior stands with her body leaning against the wall. She’s dressed in a nurse’s garb, his lips curled into that same smirk that he’d dreaded. 

“I tried, but your father must be a very convincing man.” Sangyeon smiles sadly, beckoning for her to join him. She tucks herself under his arm, practically wrapping her body around him. A lump is forming in Hyunjae’s throat, and his vision beginning to swim. 

“What the hell is going on?” Sangyeon frowns, taking a step toward his younger brother. Hyunjae takes a step back. “Why are you…brother, why are you with this creature?” The demon scoffs. 

“Creature? I would hardly call myself a creature, you stupid Guardian—”

“Hye-Ri,” Sangyeon interrupts, “that’s enough. Let me talk.” Hye-Ri’s lips purse and she takes a small step back. The older angel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jae, I need you to listen to me very carefully. Everything Father has told you up until now has been a lie.” Hyunjae bites his tongue, fighting the urge to argue with his brother. He might not believe Sangyeon, but he will not disrespect his brother. “He’s told you that this is just an assignment, that you need to guide her down the right path until she passes, is that correct?”

“Yes.” He keeps his response short and Sangyeon nods.

“He lied. This isn’t an assignment. This is a slaughter.”

“What are you talking about?” Hyunjae asks. “A slaughter?”

“Her mother wasn’t supposed to die,” Hye-Ri informs him, and his eyes narrow on her. “Sangyeon here was the woman’s guardian. She was supposed to live a long, fruitful life, but your Father fed her a disease. An angelic disease.”

“The same one Y/N has now.” Sangyeon nods and Hyunjae exhales heavily. “You said this was a slaughter?”

“Y/N is…different from what you’re used to. I’m sure you’ve noticed that you can’t get a reading on her. That you can’t quite understand her like you can other people.” Hyunjae just nods, and Sangyeon continues. “That’s because she’s a Link.”

“A what?” 

“Think of Links as soulmates,” Hye-Ri explains. “Links basically latch onto an angel, guardian or not, and link them to the human realm. Not a very creative name, but it does the trick.”

“Stay on track, Hye-Ri.”

“Right,” the demon nods, “your Father isn’t sure where it started, or with whom, but he intends to wipe out any and all links he can find.”

“But…but why does he need to do that? I mean…it can’t be dangerous to have a— a soulmate, as you called them.” Hyunjae gnaws on his lip, folding his arms over his chest.

“Father has never truly loved the human race as he claimed he did,” Sangyeon says. “He despises how we, the Guardians, grow close to them. How we grow attached to them. He fears another rebellion, should one grow too close to an assignment. He fears that the Links will be the very root of his angels betraying him. That his angels and these Links will produce heirs that are powerful enough to take down even himself.”

“So Y/N…” Hyunjae’s voice is trembling more than he’d like to admit. “She’s my…she’s my Link? My soulmate?” He receives a sad nod from his brother and tilts his head back to look at the ceiling. 

“Father saw you growing attached. He knew that it would only be a matter of time before you began to break the rules he’d set in stone.”

“But I haven’t…I haven’t done anything. I’ve kept myself under control, nothing has happened!” Hyunjae protests. “It isn’t fair to me, and it isn’t fair to her.”

“I know.” Sangyeon wraps his arms around his younger brother, feeling Hyunjae’s body shake with rage and fear, and pain. “I know, little brother.”

~

A crack of thunder shakes the building, and the pounding of rain fills the awful silence of the hospital. It’s surprisingly quiet for this time of day, but nobody would ever say that out loud. 

Hyunjae is in your hospital room again, his head lowered and his foot tapping against the ground. A nurse enters the room, flinching when she sees him. Her body remains tense the entire time she takes your vitals. 

“Is she getting better?” He asks before the nurse leaves. There’s a moment of silence before he looks up at her. She looks afraid, but there’s sadness in her eyes.

“No. She’s not.”

The door shuts again and Hyunjae lowers his head back down. The beeping of machines begins to overwhelm him. It’s constant, and he begins to wonder if you can hear it too. If you can hear what’s going on around if you’re screaming for someone to hear you and see you and listen to you. 

When the door opens again, he knows who it is.

“Have you been here the whole time?” Eric is breathless, his voice hoarse and strained. 

“I have,” comes Hyunjae’s monotone response. 

“Has she woken at all?”

“No.” Hyunjae looks up again, resting his face against his laced fingers. “No, she’s comatose right now.” Eric’s face twists with pain, and Hyunjae barely flinches when the young boy’s hand collides with the concrete wall. There’s an ugly crunch, and he watches Eric bite back a scream. His knuckles are now bleeding, and his hand already going from red to purple. 

“Fuck.” The boy hisses quietly, cradling his fist to his chest. Hyunjae scoffs out a laugh.

“That was idiotic.”

“I know.” Eric sits beside the Guardian, squeezing his eyes shut and willing away the pain. Hyunjae eyes the bloodied and bruised fingers and rolls his eyes. 

“Give me your hand.” Hyunjae holds out his own hand, palm facing up, and Eric shoots him a look.

“No offense, you’re hot and all, but I’m not into you.” Hyunjae bites his tongue again and continues to hold out his hand.

“I’m not into you either. Glad we’re on the same page. Give. Me. Your. Hand.” Eric slowly stretches his arm out, placing his fist into Hyunjae’s outstretched palm. There’s a soft glow and a few cracking sounds. Eric’s face goes pale, watching his fingers snap into place as if they had never broken. The blood remains on his fingers, and he wipes them with a tissue.

“How the fuck did you do that?” Eric asks, gazing at his fixed hand in amazement.

“I have a number of tricks up my sleeve, kid.”

“Is this the same thing that keeps you from aging?” Hyunjae hesitates before he responds. “And don’t try lying to me. I’m not dumb. At first I just thought your skincare was hella good, but after twelve years of you not aging past twenty-five it kinda gets obvious that there’s something up.”

“You’re not afraid?” Hyunjae asks curiously. Eric shrugs.

“Unless you think I should be, not really. You’ve protected Y/N our whole lives, you’ve done nothing to make me think I shouldn’t trust you. I don’t know who or what you are, but I trust you.”

“Interesting.” Hyunjae sits back in his chair, leaning his head against the wall. “So if I told you I was her guardian angel, you’d believe me?”

“I mean…I guess?” Eric shrugs. “Unless, for some reason, that’s a lie?”

“No, it isn’t. And this isn’t a human disease.”

“What do you mean it isn’t a human disease? Like…this is from Heaven?”

“Mhm. Given to her directly by Father dearest to spite me.” Eric’s jaw drops open a bit.

“God wants to kill my best friend?”

“You pick up on things fast.” His head snaps to the side and he hears Eric hiss in pain. When Hyunjae turns his head back, Eric is sitting quietly, eyes trained on his best friend. “Are you glad you did that? Did that make you feel better?”

“Yeah, a little bit. Keep talking.”

“She’s what we call a Link. She is, essentially, my soulmate.”

“Ew, age gap much?” Hyunjae snorts, his lips curling into a smile. He’d expected Eric to be less accepting of all of this, but apparently, he’d underestimated the boy. 

“My Father, God as you call him, doesn’t necessarily approve of Links. He wants to eradicate them all. He gives them diseases, angelic diseases that have no cure in any world. Not in Heaven, not in Hell, and certainly not here. Any medications given are just prolonging the inevitable.”

“So…She’s just…gonna die?” Eric asks, and Hyunjae gives him a pitiful look. “Is there anything that you can do? You’re her soulmate, there’s gotta be something. True love’s kiss?” The Guardian shakes his head and Eric lets out a shaky sigh. 

“My brother is…trying to find something. Anything that can help her. We just have to be patient.”

He isn’t entirely sure who he’s trying to convince, himself or Eric or both. He knows that these attempts are futile. He knows that he can’t save you like he’d promised you so long ago. 

I don’t want to die like my mommy.

I won’t let that happen.

~

“We need to consider that she might not wake up.” Hyunjae stares down at the doctor, his hands shaking and his eyes narrowed. “It’s…it’s been two years, sir.”

“I don’t give a damn how long it’s been,” Hyunjae snarls, standing over your comatose form. Protecting you. “We aren’t pulling this plug. Not now, not ever. Do you understand me, Doctor?”

“Sir,” the older gentleman tries to plead, “I understand your frustration but… you need to face that she would be better off just…going on her own terms. Keeping her alive, in this state where she has no control over her bodily functions, where she can’t communicate with us or feel the things that we can, it isn’t good for her or for you.”

He knows the doctor is right. He knows he’s just prolonging the inevitable, he always has. But he can’t let go of you yet. It’s too soon. He hasn’t had enough time with you. Hasn’t had enough time to talk to you, to take care of you, to love you, cherish you, adore you. He hasn’t had time to show you the world, as he’d wanted to for so long. He hadn’t had time to tell you the truth. 

Although, at this point, the truth is…unfortunate. His wings had been stripped from his body, his and his brother’s. His rights as a Guardian have been removed. Anything he could’ve used to save you…there’s nothing left. He has Fallen, but he couldn’t be more proud of it. He doesn’t have to hide himself anymore, doesn’t have to fear the man he once called Father. 

“Hyunjae,” Hye-Ri stands at his side, her eyes tired. “You know the doctor is right.”

“Shut up, Hye-Ri.” The young demon snarls. Hye-Ri doesn’t snap at him this time. She looks sad, almost pitying him. Sangyeon stands at the door, his arms crossed over his chest. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. None of you do.”

“Lee Hyunjae,” Sangyeon says sternly, “use reason. I understand you’re upset, but you need to understand that your soulmate is suffering and that you are being selfish.”

“Am I not allowed to be selfish?” Hyunjae cries. “Even now that I am finally free from God’s hands, am I not allowed to be selfish for once?” Hye-Ri leaves the room, her eyes lowered to the ground. Sangyeon steps forward. Hyunjae moves even closer to you. 

“You are allowed to want things, little brother,” Sangyeon speaks softly, so as not to anger Hyunjae further. “You are allowed to want her. You are allowed to crave more time with her, but you cannot have her like this. You know that.” For a brief moment, Hyunjae wants to scream. He wants to throw the vase of flowers that sits beside your hospital bed, he wants to tear this building down until there’s nothing left but a pile of bricks. 

But he doesn’t. He stands there, gazing down at you and brushing his thumb across your cheek. Your body is cold, and when he touches you, you don’t so much as twitch. His hand drops to his side. 

“Get Eric. Get the doctor.”

~

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the beach in front of you. You’re laying in the sand, water washing up to your ankles. The sun is warm on your skin, but you aren’t sweating. In fact, nothing about your situation is uncomfortable. You’re at peace, more comfortable than you think you’ve ever been.

The second thing you notice is that you’re in nothing but a bathing suit and a beach cover. You don’t remember changing into this. In fact, you can’t seem to remember anything after the party.

“You’re awake,” you turn your head and you begin to smile. Hyunjae is dressed in a simple tee shirt and shorts, two classes and a bottle of champagne clutched in his hands. He’s grinning at you, and you rise to your feet.

“You’re wearing something other than black, I see.” You tease him. He lets out a laugh, and you think it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Hilarious, little bug.” He nudges your side, guiding you to a nearby table with two long beach chairs sitting side-by-side. “Come have a drink with me.” You follow him, the beach cover blowing behind you a bit. Your hair isn’t quite tussled by the wind around you, just brushed over your shoulders. Everything is perfect.

Too perfect.

Hyunjae takes a seat on one of the chairs, gritting his teeth when he removes the top of the champagne bottle. 

“I always get nervous opening these things. Far too dangerous for their own good if you ask me.” You sit beside him, and he side-eyes you. “I got you your own chair.”

“What if I want to sit next to you?” You challenge. He pauses, and for a moment you think he looks…sad. That moment passes quickly, and he’s smiling again and laughing to himself. 

“I won’t stop you then.” He takes one of the glasses and slowly fills it with the bubbling alcohol before passing it to you. You thank him quietly and briefly turn your gaze to the ocean. 

“Have you ever seen water so clear?” You ask, half rhetorical and half curious. He hums.

“Once or twice.”

“I didn’t think Heaven would have beaches this nice.” Silence behind you, and you turn back to Hyunjae, still smiling. He’s staring at you, his body completely frozen. You can see his body shaking, the liquid in his glass sloshing up the sides. You take the glass and the bottle from his hands, setting both on the table beside him. Tears are beginning to wet his cheeks, and you reach forward to wipe them away. 

“I didn’t…I’m so, so sorry little bug.” His voice cracks and the tears keep falling. 

“Jae, you knew it would happen eventually. I did too. That’s just…I just got the shit end of the stick in this life.” You slide closer to him and he lets his eyes close. “Besides, did you really think that I believed you had really good skincare? For almost twenty years?” 

Hyunjae wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you as close as he possibly could. You let him hold you, you let him whisper his apologies, and his regrets, and his whispers of I love you, I adore you, I’m sorry this happened before I got to show you the world. You just smile, running your fingers through his hair and rubbing his shoulders. 

When he pulls away from you at last, his cheeks are red and stained with tears. You’re still smiling, assuring him that everything is okay. 

“So,” you raise the two glasses of champagne and hand him one, “what are we toasting?” Hyunjae shakes his head, his smile returning.

“Whatever you want, little bug. Anything you want, I will give you.” You hum, kicking your legs a bit and digging your toes into the sand. 

“Anything, you say?” You wiggle your eyebrows and while he laughs, you know that he means every word. You know what he doesn’t have the strength to say yet. I am yours. You are mine. I will cherish you, adore you, and love you how I should have when you were alive. “Fine then.”

“Have you decided?” He turns toward the beach and you do the same, leaning your head on his shoulder briefly. You feel him flinch when you press your lips to his shoulder blade, where you can feel his wings once were. 

“I have.”

“So?”

“To merry bad endings, and to you for going against what you’d been raised to do, for believing in me and in your brother.” Hyunjae smiles, tipping his glass to yours. A small clink echoes across the beach.

“To merry bad endings.”

~

TAGLIST: @hyunjaespresent-deobi @just-here-to-read-01

[sunnyie-eve]

14 | Save him

Series: Indispensable | Teen Wolf

Paring:  (Stiles Stilinski x OFC Martin)

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Might be a few mistakes

| MASTERLIST |

~~~

For school Julia's mom drove her to school and when she dropped her off Stiles was with Scott so when Julia got out of the car she walks past them.

"She can't see me with Stiles." She says so Scott could hear her.

Stiles watches Julia's mom drive off then looks at Scott confused, "She's not allowed to be seen with you." Scott tells him.

"What? Just me? Not you too?" Stiles heads inside to their lockers hoping Julia will be there. "So you aren't allowed to be around me but not Scott?"

"Pretty much. She said it's your fault so that's why. She doesn't care for you." Julia says opening her locker.

"Well, I mean, yeah but still."

"Stiles, when she's not around don't worry." She laughs, "I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me." She smiles getting her stuff heading off.

Scott comes up behind smiling at his best friend, "The thought of her not being around you anymore bothers you."

Stiles turns around, "Well yeah, she's my friend."

"That's the only reason?"

"Scott, not this again." Stiles huffs walking off.

"Keep telling yourself that."

During the day, Allison asks Julia to join her in the library so the cameras don't think it's weird she's by herself talking alone while Scott is on the other side of the bookshelf.

"It's everything Lydia can translate. And trust me, she was very confused." Allison says as Julia opens a book looking through it.

"Yeah, what'd you tell her?" Scott asks.

"That we were part is an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures." Allison says making Scott and her slightly laugh.

"I am part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures." Stiles and Julia say together then look at each other reaching to fist bump.

"Okay, does it say how to find out who's controlling him?" Scott asks.

"Not really. But Stiles was right about the murderers. It calls the Kanima a weapon of vengeance. There's a story in there about this South America priest who uses the Kanima to excute murderers in his village."

"All right, see? So maybe it's not all that bad." Stiles says.

"Until the bond grew strong enough that it killed whoever he wanted it to." Allison adds.

"All bad, all very, very bad."

"Here's the thing though. The Kanima's actually supposed to be a werewolf. But it can't be..." Allison stops so Scott reads it.

"Until it resolves that in its past which manifested it."

"Okay, if that means that Jackson could use a few thousand hours of therapy. I could've told you that myself." Stiles speaks up.

"What if it has something to do with his parents? His real parents." Allison asks while Julia leaves the library.

"So you got into trouble with Jackson and have a stay a certain amount of feet from him? What the hell, Julia." Lydia finds her sister.

"I don't care to be honest. I'm 100% okay with staying far away from Jackson."

"Julia that's not the point." Lydia huffs.

"Then what is?"

"You pissed off Jackson and he got his father involved." She says like it was obvious.

"I always piss him off that's no different. And I Don care." Julia walks off making Lydia shout her name.

"What has gotten into her lately?" Lydia talks to herself out loud then sees Stiles go into class. "Hey, what have you done to my sister?" She walks in going over to him.

"What do you mean?" Stiles asks confused.

"She's all snappy lately since she started hanging around you. What did you do to her?"

"Nothing, she's being herself, Lydia. You would know how she is if you were still close to her and treated her like a sister but you don't do you?" Stiles stands up for Julia taking Lydia back so she takes her seat. "Oh, also do you know what happened to Jackson's real parents?"

"Why would I tell you? You don't tell me stuff about my sister." Lydia smiles as class starts.

After class Stiles tries to get Lydia to tell him about Jackson but she wouldn't do it, "Lydia, come on! Wait! Ah!" Erica poops up shoving him into the wall.

"Be careful with my friend, he's fragile." Julia joins them since she was walking with Erica.

"Why are you asking Lydia about Jackson's real parents?" She asks him.

"Why are you bringing out the claws on camera?" He asks her.

"He's right." Julia adds so Erica puts them away.

"If you're wondering about Jackson's real parents they're about a mile from here. In Beacon Hills Cemetery." Erica tells him before walking off.

"Is that true?" Stiles looks at Julia.

"Yeah, but I don't know how they died." She tells him so he grabs her ran running h after Erica to ask more questions.

"Wait, wait, wait. Do you know how they died?" He asks catching up to her.

"Maybe. If you tell me why you're so interested." Erica stops walking, "It's him. Isn't it?"

"What? Who? Him who?"

"The test didn't work, but it's still him. It's Jackson." She walks off.

"Erica, wait!" Julia rushes after her so Stiles follows. "Look, you can't tell Derek. There's a lot more to this that you guys don't know about." Julia catches up to her.

"And might I add, just because you got the Alpha bite makeover doesn't give you a license to go around destroying people." Stiles adds.

"Why not? That's all anybody ever used to do to me but Julia. I used to have the worst crush in the world on you. Yeah, you, Stiles. And you never once noticed me. Exactly how you're not noticing me right now." Erica notices him and Julia looking at water coming from the locker room then Scott is pushed out with Jackson going after him. The three jump in to separate them then Mr. Harris shows up saying everyone had detention at 3 o'clock.

After school you could tell all seven did not want to be there. "We can't be in detention together. I have a restraining order against theses tools." Jackson tells Mr. Harris.

"All these tools?"

"No, just us tools." Stiles motions to him, Scott and Julia.

"Fine. You three, over there."

The three get up going to a different table, "I'm gonna kill him."

"No, you're not." Julia tells him.

"What she said. You're going to find out who's controlling him and then you're gonna help save him." Stiles tells him.

"No. You two were right, let's kill him." Scott says making the two look at each other.

"Is your mom going to be mad about you being in detention with me?" Stiles asks Julia as she messes with her fingers.

"Yeah, she'll say it's your fault. You're a bad influence." Julia chuckles.

"No, I'm not."

"You kinda are." Scott butts in to their conversation.

"Shut up. What if it's Matt? I mean, this whole thing comes back to the video, right?" Stiles changes the topic.

"Danny said that Matt was the one who found the two hours of footage missing." Scott says.

"Exactly, he could have easily deleted it." Julia adds.

"He's trying to throw suspicion off himself."

"So he makes Jackson kill Isaac's dad, one of Argent's hunters, and the mechanic working on your jeep?" Scott list.

"Yes."

"Why?" Scott asks.

"Because... He's evil." Stiles looks over at him.

"You just don't like him." Scott tells him.

"The guy bugs me. I don't know what it is. Just look at his face."

"Any other theories?" Scott looks back at Stiles.

"I mean there could be more we don't know about. None of us knows Matt's past. I mean, years ago when we were kids he started acting different one day." Scott gives Julia a look, "I was a loner, I people watched." She adds.

Jackson ends up rushing out of the library and Mr. Harris goes telling everyone to stay in their seats so the three go back to Erica who tells them what happened to Jackson's real parents.

"Scott McCall, please report to the principal's office." Allison's mom comes through the PA.

Scott leaves while the three lol at the report then Mr. Harris tells everyone they aren't leaving till they finish re-shelving.

"I hate that man." Julia gets up getting a cart to put books away.

Stiles catches up Scott and Allison while Erica and Julia work on a cart. "Isaac says hi." Erica smiles at Julia.

"He does? Why hasn't he been to school?" Julia asks her confused since he could.

"I don't know to be honest. Doesn't seem to care that much. And yes, he does." Erica winks at Julia.

"Okay, well you can tell him I said hi back." Julia laughs as Jackson turns wreaking the library. He paralyzes Erica and tries doing the same to Julia so she fake falls to make him run off. "You're gonna be okay." Julia tells Erica before going to Stiles and Allison.

Scott joins them putting his arm out to keep Allison behind him and Stiles keeps Julia behind him as they watch Jackson write on the board.

Stay out of my way or I'll kill all of you.

"Erica!" Julia rushes over and so does Stiles.

"I think she's having a seizure." Stiles holds her.

Erica wants to be taken to Derek so the boys and Julia leave with her while Allison stays with Matt. When they get to Derek, he breaks her arm so it would trigger the healing process before squeezing her arm ti get the venom out.

When Julia got home she found Lydia spaced out sitting in her room, "Lydia, you okay?" Julia stands in the doorway but Lydia doesn't do anything. "Lydia?" Julia walks over to her.

Lydia looks over at her staying silent for a while, "I'm fine. Just not feeling well and I'm tired. I'm gonna get some rest."

"Okay." Julia leaves Lydia's room going to bed also.

~

"So why am I?" Julia asks Scott as he lets her into the clinic.

"Because you are good a listening and you know stuff. You're helpful to have around." Scott tells her so she just nods her head.

"Don't tell Stiles that or he'll get butt hurt."

"He really would." Scott agree waiting for Derek to show up.

When Derek does show up Issac was with him making Scott ask why he was with him, "Why is she here?" Derek points at Julia.

"She's helpful. And I trust her compared to him." Scott tells him.

"Yeah, well. He doesn't trust you either. Julia." Issac smiles.

"And Derek really doesn't care. Now where's the vet? Is he going to help us or not?"

"That depends. Your friend, Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?" Deaton asks.

"Kill him,"

"Save him. Save him. Save him." Scott says.

"He's not really our friend so." Julia speaks up making everyone look at her, "What? He's not. We all dislike him. That's not a secret."

I'm the back Deaton goes through his stuff and Issac tries touching things making Derek annoyed. "So what are you? Some kind of witch?" Issac asks.

"No, I'm a veterinarian."

"Oh." Issac nods his head.

"Unfortunately, I'm not seeing anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin."

"We're open to suggestions. Literally anything." Julia tells him.

"What about an effective offense?" Issac asks.

"No, we already tried. I nearly took its head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up." Derek tells Deaton.

"Has it shown any weakness?"

"Well, one, it can't swim." Derek lets him know.

"Does that go for Jackson as well?"

"No. He's the captain of the swim team." Julia answers before Scott.

"Essentially, you're trying to catch two people. A puppet...and a puppeteer. One killed the husband and the other had to take care of the wife. Do we know why?"

"Jackson couldn't do it. His mother died pregnant too." Julia says.

"And she was maybe murdered. I think he couldn't let the same thing happen to someone else." Scott adds.

"How do you know it's not part of the rules? The Kanima kills murderers. If Jackson killed the wife then the baby dies too." Issac speaks up.

"Does that mean your father was a murderer?" Julia looks at Issac.

"Wouldn't surprise me if he was."

"Hold on. The book says they're bonded. Right? What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson but from the person controlling him? What if something that affects the Kanima also affects its master?" Deaton asks.

"Meaning what?" Issac asks.

"Meaning we can catch them. Both of them." Scott catches on.

"We'll we only know if we try it. So that means we need to get tickets to that show." Julia turns to Scott.

"Yeah. We'll figure it out."

"I'm gonna head home. I took Lydia's car without her knowing so I better go." Julia heads out.

"Julia," Issac follows her out.

"Huh?"

"Erica told you I said hi right?" Isaac crosses his arms.

"Yeah, and I told her to tell you hi back. She's doing better now right?"

"Yeah, she's great now." They just look at each other.

"You going to school tomorrow or did you drop out suddenly?" Julia opens the car door.

"You'll find out tomorrow won't you?"

[donteattheappleshook]

CS fics by @elizabeethan you must read!

Happy birthday @elizabeethan ! @snowbellewells and I had the same idea apparently but you deserve all the love for your fantastic stories on your birthday! 

Elizabeth have so many amazing, beautiful fics and so I’ve struggled to narrow it down to my absolute forever favorites. If you haven’t read one of them yet you’re missing out and you need to rectify that ASAP - your life will be better for it, trust me

The Sad Baker Killian series

Never More Than I Can Take 

holding my breath for you

From the Beginning 

What can I even say about this series - there aren’t even words. It’s the softest, most painful, hearbreakingly beautiful love story. Sad Killian is always one of my favorites but who knew that adding baker to that would just magnify it tenfold. Ugh this story is just - I can’t - just gfjdakvdsagl. Read it. 

Overboard  series

Ao3

Here we have a beautiful example of our lovely talented shipmate thinking she could get away with only writing us a oneshot of this breathtaking universe. And here we are 6 installments in and if you don’t think I would devour a hundred thousand more you’re wrong. I need this as a whole damn novel that just never ever ends. The sad silver Killian and damaged Emma, the way you’ve written the emotion and the love between these two, the way you created such a full and complete world which feels so real and beautiful while still keeping our favorite ship so true to their characters - I’m in awe. Sometimes I’ll just start thinking about this fic and sit there for a good long while in amazement at your talent. Did I mention I’m obsessed with this series already? Perfection.  

Watch the Sunlight Fade

UUUUGGGGHHHHHH this fic. It’s like you wrote everything I wished Sons of Anarchy had been and then multiplied the amazingness by a billion. This one is so so painful to read and so incredibly beautiful. Strap yourselves in for a hell of an angsty ride that will be 100% worth it. Prepare yourself to want to murder Neal like you never have before. Prepare yourself to want to give Killian a giant fucking hug and take care of him. The way you slow burned this fic too is just stunning too and I can’t even get my words to work right in saying how much I love this fic. Everyone needs to read it and give it the appreciation it deserves because WOW this story gives me life. 

Steal Away

So there’s obviously a pattern starting here of @elizabeethan hurts me to the deepest part of my soul and I thank her for it. I was obsessed with this fic from the moment you suggested the premise and honestly apart from Overboard which will forever be one of my all time favorite fics, this might be my favorite of yours. This fic starts as a robery gone wrong and then becomes something so much more than I ever expected or knew I needed. It had me crying, like ugly cry in public but don’t stop reading because you need to know what happens next, and then just feeling so many things that I couldn’t do anything but yell at you about it and then I think this one just renewed my belief in love because you wrote their characters and their story and their emotions so perfectly and everything feels so REAL and heartbreaking and then so so hopeful. This fic is a masterpiece and I would (have?) read it a million times over. 

Spaces Between Us

I remember this fic starting with “do you think people would be mad if...” and man I think that is how you need to approach everything you write forever lmao. Will it make them mad? I don’t know but it will absolutely make them rage at your horrible villains, want to cry for Emma and be begging you to let our babies have a torid affair and then maybe murder someone (disclaimer: there is no murder in this fic- but you’d consider it a reasonable choice if there were). You absolutely broke my heart with this story, poor Emma trapped in her relationship with Walsh, the second chance love story that felt so real that I was blown away. I’ve always found it hard to read those because I couldn’t get on board with my ship breaking up in the first place let alone how they’d end up together again but then you wrote this fic and I get it now. And you brought them together again in such a beautiful way with all the angst I could possibly handle. You write angst so well but you also have such a talent with bringing happiness and love and hope back to the story at the end of it all and this fic is a perfect example of that. 

Between the Morning and the Night

Finally I had to throw this hilarious little fic in. I swear I’d have listed every single one of your shorter fics - there were so many I loved and everyone should go read them all but I had to narrow it down for this list and I ahve to say that this might be my absolute favorite of your standalones. The premise is so fucking funny - Will noticing the scratches on Killian’s back and Killian in full blown panic about David finding out just who gave them to him - dead. Of course, beautiful, talented, amazing author that you are you gave us feels like you wouldn’t believe turning this funny little oneshot into a truly stunning piece of writing. I love this fic so much. Like just: 

“Good god, mate.”

He turns, surprise in his eyes when he faces his friend and colleague and is met with his shocked, horrified expression.

“What?”

He knows he’s red and sweaty after a workout, but it can’t be anything different from how he always looks when they return to the locker room.

“I mean, were you attacked?”

💀💀💀💀💀

Bless this fic and bless you for writing it

I hope you’ll all go and read the incredible fics that Slibby has written over the last couple years (she wrote 54 in like 2 years???? are you real though, girl??) and give her the love and appreciation she deserves on this the most special of days!

Happy birthday again @elizabeethan you’ve been the best pocket friend a girl could ask for and I’m forever grateful that the fandom brought us together 

@kmomof4 @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @jennjenn615 @dramioneswan @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @batana54 @lfh1226-linda @csalltheway @xsajx @xarandomdreamx @onceratheart18 @ownedbycaptainswan @teamhook @pirateprincessofpizza @lostintheskyfaraway @zaharadessert @thejollyroger-writer @ultraluckycatnd @justanother-unluckysoul @spartanguard @jonesfandomfanatic @deckerstarblanche @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @wefoundloveunderthelight @sailtoafarawayland @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @stahlop @superchocovian @snowbellewells @xellewoods @sals86 @karlyfr13s ​ @ouatpost ​ @skairipakomtrikru @lonelyspectator12   @anmylica   @alexa-fangirl-forever @inspiredbystardust @marcella2727 @paradiselady19 @koryandr @killiansprincss

[randomwriteronline]

For some reason i got evil Pohatu on my mind. Not the same one as the au i wrote once of him getting shadow leech'd, this a pre-canister Pohatu being welcomed in the brotherhood of makuta and possibly getting mildly brainwashed by Teridax via being given purpose and praise and goals and so on for roughly 100 thousand years

Pre-canister Pohatu is lonely and alone and sort of bitter and if hes already got his terrible sense of self-worth it might be even worse. I think if he found out earlier that they were going to desert the av-matoran (who so far have been his only purpose and perhaps the source of most of his sense of belonging and not being useless) to go in the codrex he might have flipped off tahu and kopaka and tried to use his mask to evacuate karda nui in time completely abandoning the rest of the mata. I can see him figuring those two are hiding something, cornering one of them (probably Kopaka) to have the whole thing explained to him, getting really mad, assuming the others are also in the know and this was kept specifically from him, and telling them to fuck off with their coward pods if they so wanted because he was going to save the matoran, you know, the thing he was built for. Cue him doing his best and probably failing at least in part, thus stumbling depressedly into the makuta afterwards and being taken in bc holy shit one of the toa mata??? Youre like one of the most important beings to the safety of the entire universe we need to make sure you dont die out there on your own considering your obvious tendency towards recklessness

Teridax isnt evil yet but it is still in his nature to scheme and make plans so hes like, im gonna make sure the toa likes me the best out of everybody here just in case something goes awry. You never know. And so Pohatu gets positive reinforcement and praise and generally being considered good and useful and in no time hes latched onto Teridax's side like a baby holding his moms hand hard enough to break her bones bc hes afraid of losing her while at the supermarket. He needs that positive attention like hes going to die, especially since he has no duty currently so hes feeling even more useless than ever. Teridax at first accidentally (purposefully when he starts thinking of The Plan) completely rewires his whole brain into being dependent from him so when he overthrows Miserix Pohatu just follows along seeing absolutely nothing wrong with his scheme.

Nobody outside of the brotherhood knows Pohatu is there bc on one hand, mask of speed makes him hard to track down/catch/see in general, and also Teridax is very adamant in keeping him stashed away for a rainy day because he is essentially one of the most secret weapons he has. Like, thats a whole ass toa mata at his disposal. Not just that, hes completely loyal to him AND has been marinating a grudge against his siblings for like 100 thousand years. AND - most importantly - hes inconspicuous. In the past thousands of years hes spent dragging the toa of stone around Teridax found out that beyond the power and the bitterness he is also naturally just soooo friendly. So personable. You can trust this motherfucker with any secret ever. He has told him so many tiny secrets that he KNOWS Pohatu has never spoken about or even written down that he could give him a whole powerpoint presentation of The Plan and have absolutely no fear whatsoever of anybody ever hearing from it. Hes the perfect double agent because when hes nice, 99% of the time he genuinely means it, and he is so earnest and convinced that hes doing the right thing that even Axonn wouldnt fucking figure him out. MAYBE the order of mata nui is aware of the fact that hes with the makuta at first, before the problem with the barraki, but they could lose track of him.

As soon as the other mata wash ashore on the island of mata nui Teridax sends in Pohatu to further his plan and thats when he realizes oh, im the only motherfucker who knows Anything. I need to play dumb. So he pretends to also have amnesia and plays out some kind of mildly stupid but affable toa of stone routine with all his siblings whom he has a very distorted hateful image of due to last seeing them One Hundred Thousand Years Prior and spending at least 80 of those soaked in Teridax's propaganda, and hes doing his absolute best not to sabotage them completely every chance he gets because Teridax needs them for the plan. He has a grudge against the Turaga as well for obvious reasons (you put my incredibly unhealthy parental figure boss in a rock and stole his matoran and reign you fucking whores) but not against the Matoran bc they couldn't really do much about it all after all. He and Akhmou have a genuinely sweet relationship based on "youre the only motherfucker who gets me and has also been massively manipulated by makuta" and he probably is also incredibly fond of Takua, which becomes a problem when he turns out to be the toa of light bc That's Bad For The Plan but also My Little Brother ;;

I don't know if hed manage to still reconnect with the mata properly as he gets to know them better (thus trying to sway them in Teridax's favor bc he loves them and he loves him and he doesnt want to lose either) or if hed be too fixated on his past bitterness to see through it, but also I don't think he'd kill. Hes still a toa and while he might be more desensitized to doing crueler things like encasing the piraka completely in rock to make them into statues, kinda like kopaka does when freezing someone, i still dont think hed be able to go for more outright deadly methods. Anyways yeah, take all this

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Iteration - a Malevolent fic, chapter three

John has been poisoned. Who did it? Unknown. How can he be saved? If not for Arthur, he wouldn't.

The ripples from this event hit far distant shores, and no one will come out of it unchanged.

Part 100 of the Surrogate series.

AO3 - chapter three

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

Arthur would not give up. “John. Come on, John.” He kissed his left hand, rubbed between the knuckles, pressed his thumb into the palm. “Come on, John. Come back to me.”

Hastur, meanwhile, had grown hackles.

Okay, no, he hadn’t; but he paced, and his edges sort of fuzzed as if his golden robe had gone sharp-edged and dangerous, and his growl was never-ending.

Arthur didn’t care. He didn’t really know how this worked beyond the fact that he was holding onto John and keeping him from being dead, so… he would hold on. “Come on, John,” he whispered, lips touching John’s palm.

They were alone, then suddenly, they were not. “I have good news,” the Keeper said gently. “We may know of an antidote for the poison. My contact is investigating if they have the supplies necessary.”

Hastur stopped his march. “What? Where? Who has it?” And he snarled. “Could that one have also created the poison?”

“Judging by their reaction to it? No.”

Hastur grunted and resumed stalking.

Arthur turned his face toward her. “He’s still in me? Not going anywhere?”

“John isn’t going anywhere, Arthur.” Despite his blindness she knelt, skirts pooling on the ground, and gently took his hand. “Whoever poisoned you knew what they were doing, but they didn’t account for the bond you two have, or… well, your own magical quirks, as it were. But I have bad news, as well.”

Arthur began that bad sound again, his panicked breathing, his tiny whimpers. “What? What?”

“He will not die, Arthur. You won’t allow it, and neither will he. Trust me: he is hanging onto you as tightly as you are to him.” She squeezed his hand. “This is… further information. If you would like a few minutes to process it, you may have it. You may take as long as you need.”

“Just tell me!” His voice broke.

“My own,” warned Hastur, as if worried he could bring too much disrespect.

“Shut up,” Arthur said to him. “Tell me,” he said to her.

“When he regains consciousness, he may forget himself,” the Keeper said, her voice gentle and soft and full of grief. “It is my hope that it will not be forever.”

Arthur stared at nothing and went even more pale than he had been. This seemed to trigger something in him—some deep fear, some poignant guilt that she could taste. “Forget?” he said, high and breathy.

“Yes.” She squeezed his hand, so gently. “I’m… I’m sorry, Arthur. There is not much more I can do, at present. This poison… it’s potent. Vicious. It was made to kill Forgotten Ones, no matter the cost, and has not been seen in over ten thousand years. At present, you are keeping him stable, safe; there is further information about it that I need not trouble you with now, but will discuss with Hastur. Right now, the thing you can do that will be most effective at keeping John safe is to rest and recover. Think of anything you may remember about the food, the delivery.” And then, a horrible, tremulous pause. “I know what it’s like, to forget,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t wish this fate upon anyone, Arthur. But I know, with full certainty, that he will be safe in your hands.”

He almost missed it. “You… you know?”

Hastur stopped pacing.

“I do,” she said, voice soft. “More intimately than you could possibly imagine. But… that’s for another time. For now, you need to drink this, and if you can keep it down, I’m going to give you something to drink. Alright?” A mug pressed into his hands; it was stoneware, sturdy, with something warm and gently spiced held within.

Arthur sniffled. Then he sniffed. “What is this?” Always stubborn, always questioning.

And she took no offense, as always, voice soft and kind. “Black tea with ginger, to help with any lingering nausea. I want to try and get some fluids back in your system. If you would prefer, I can get you water instead.”

“Thanks,” Arthur murmured. “Tea is good.” He sipped.

Hastur made a crackling sound, like subdued lightning. “A long-lost poison. Forgotten Ones… I haven’t considered that for a long, long time. It shouldn’t be an issue! I’ve hidden his origin well enough, and he no longer looks like a Forgotten One.”

“He doesn’t?” said Arthur.

“No. He hasn’t for years.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “But… wait. Then it’s not someone at court?”

“No.” Hastur growled. “Someone had to know this outside of appearances. John doesn’t look the part.”

Arthur shifted. “Could it be someone from… before? Before you took us to the Dreamlands?”

“What, some human?” Hastur scoffed. “No.”

“I learned about Forgotten Ones from a human book,” said Arthur.

Hastur paused. Then he resumed marching again. “The result will be the same,” he growled.

Arthur sipped his tea, then pressed his warmed lips to his left palm. “John.” No one told him to stop. He wouldn’t have, anyway. “I won’t fuck it up this time,” he whispered against his hand. “I don’t care what it takes.”

Hastur paused and looked at him, really looked at him, baffled anew at whatever bizarre bond these two had. Arthur was his, marked, owned—but this was something else.

Whatever the fuck Arthur and John were, it kept defying description and categorization. It was just them, however that looked, in whatever manner it played out. It was… odd, in fact. Very odd. What were the chances of—

“Hastur,” the Keeper said, voice soft; and just like that he watched as she split, a new Keeper peeling away from the one that still sat and watched Arthur. “We need to speak privately.”

“I’ll keep watch on him,” the seated Keeper said, her voice gentle.

“Shall we?” said the new one, extending a hand.

Hastur looked at Arthur again. Gut instinct said to stay with and protect and—

The King in Yellow was more than gut instinct. “Yes.” He took her hand.

It was a sort of slide into an adjacent dimension, not quite gone, not quite there; Hastur could feel Arthur just on the other side as much as he could feel the dual Keepers. “Your poisoner would have to be close by,” the Keeper said quietly, somber.

His growl resumed.

“The poison doesn’t preserve,” she said. “It would have to be made fresh, and likely that means whoever did it is part of your staff. When you find it, I want the recipe.” A sigh. “And… forgive me for my discourtesy, but I need the second volume of the Leaves of Leng as well. I am endeavoring to keep my contact from demanding recompense for you, though I imagine they will likely reveal themselves shortly anyway.” Another sigh. “There is no time limit, Hastur. Care for your people first. And this does not change our initial agreement. Once Arthur is well and John is restored, I will resume my work.”

For one moment, Hastur couldn’t even comprehend what she was saying. “Of course the book is yours. It would have been any time you asked.” Who cared about the fucking… Well, she did, apparently. “Yes, I’ll bring it at once.” His head spun. Low, he said, “It is one of my people who has done this, then. One who’s been with us for… years.” And now, he had to consider that Faroe wasn’t safe, either.

That was…

That was too much. Right now, it was too much, and he’d lose his shit if he had to consider that every single person in his daughter’s life could somehow be unfaithful. Disloyal.

Dangerous.

There was one solution: find whoever did this to Arthur and make such an example that even the innocent trembled in their beds.

“Hastur,” the Keeper said softly. “You will find them, and Arthur will be safe. I promise you this.”

He looked at her. Looked at her, for possibly the first time not like an enemy or a predator of whom to be wary. He looked at her as though he didn’t know what she was. “How can you promise such a thing?” he rumbled.

“Because I will see it done,” she said. “If they somehow manage to flee, I will send my best scholars to pursue them. If they endeavor to hide, I will see to it they are dragged into the light. It is not my justice to take, but I feel very, very strongly about what has been done to John, Hastur.”

“But why?” His suspicion was… well, it wasn’t suspicion. Were Arthur here, he’d know this tone: this why, in this particular way, meant Hastur (and John, and Sunny) was actually asking… and would listen to the reply.

The Keeper was silent for a long moment. “I have made you a promise, Hastur, that I will unravel the mystery of Arthur Lester for you. This I swore to you in my very blood. Harm come to him does me no good. But… I also have reasons of my own. Personal ones. Most notably that I find what you are doing… admirable.”

“Admirable?” What the fuck was she talking about?

“I know what my brother said,” the Keeper said, voice gentle and soft. “Arthur may not yet know, but I see what it is you are doing; protecting your daughter, your kingdom. It is… it is a shame, to me, that our time will be short. I cannot stand idle while you fight for the safety of those you love, when I could aid you. I respect that, Hastur. And I wish to help you.”

Hastur could not pale. That wasn’t how his physical form worked; nevertheless, he sure as fuck faded, as if ash had filled in the spaces beneath his hide. He flashed gray, then purple; he wasn’t prepared to face this. That she would know.

His doom, exposed. This danger for his kingdom, his people. His daughter.

There was no plan for this moment. This revelation. This terrible exposure. Yet… she was not using it to threaten him. “Don’t tell them. Please.”

“That isn't my information to share," she said, reaching up and twisting the lace border of her veil between her fingers. "I have kept your confidence and will continue to do so, Hastur. I can't… I can't interfere. But I can answer you honestly. You deserve that, at least.”

So she was helping out of… pity?

He almost laughed. He, the great Peacock King, the Lord of Interstellar Spaces, sure as fuck was pitiful these days… but if it engendered aid for his family, then it was for the best.

Fuck it. Fuck. It. Dis knew, the Keeper knew, that mysterious voice knew… and that was all. This was still in control, he told himself. Still manageable. “I thank you,” he managed, his voice a bass concession. And he almost hated himself for saying it, but even in this moment, he couldn’t abandon strategy: “Arthur… when will it be safe to bring him home? As a target, his living presence is guaranteed to keep the enemy nearby.”

“I want to know if my contact has the ability to produce the antidote first,” the Keeper said. “John is stable, but that could change.”

“Then I will wait.” Because he trusted her. Because she’d promised he wasn’t losing time.

Because she knew why losing time mattered.

He returned to pacing, and made himself wait.

(chapter four)

[woosh-floosh]

Oh shoot! It’s the end of the year already!

~ ☆ MY FAVORITE THINGS 2023 ☆ ~

I don’t keep a journal of everything, for lack of a better term, ‘consume’ during the year so there is probably a chance that I might have missed something important. Possible new years resolution idea….

MOVIES

PUSS IN THE BOOTS: THE LAST WISH

An epic little movie about a cat accepting his own mortality.

SPIRITED AWAY

Excluding the fuzzy memories I have of watching Ponyo as a child, I have never watched a Ghibli movie before this year. Maybe I made a mistake watching what is viewed as Studio Ghibli’s magnum opus first. Every Ghibli movie I have watched after had me walking away thinking “this is good, but it’s no Spirited Away!”

PARASITE

It’s as good as everyone says it is, yeah.

ONE CUT OF THE DEAD

The “it gets good after 100 episodes” of movies. Recommending it to someone has the chance of ruining their trust in your taste forever.

THE DIRTIES

I could start a whole academic career focused solely around analyzing this movie.

OPERATION AVALANCHE

Like The Dirties if it was about faking the moon landing instead of planning a school shooting. The less depressing subject matter means more people will be willing to watch with you.

TV SHOWS

HOW TO WITH JOHN WILSON SEASON 3

The most honest depiction of humanity ever caught on film. There is an episode about vintage vacuum cleaner collectors that might make you cry.

NIRVANNA THE BAND THE SHOW

It’s funny.

TASKMASTER UK/NEW ZELAND/MINNESOTA

I <3 TASKMASTER!!!!!!!

GAME CHANGER

What do you do when you’re all caught up on Taskmaster? You watch Game Changer on Dropout.tv.

VIDEOS GAMES

PIZZA TOWER

I <3 PIZZA TOWER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE LEGEND OF ZELDA: TEARS OF THE KINGDOM

Despite some qualms I may have with the story and gameplay, I cannot deny that I logged 160 hours in this game in the span of like, a month.

SPLATOON 3

yeah

MUSIC

THE GO! TEAM - GET UP SEQUENCES PART 2

I don’t know why The Go! Team always releases their music in the dead of winter but it ends up being a wonderful little blip in my memory of an otherwise suffocating season.

FAVORITE TRACK: WHAMMY-O

LOVEJOY - WAKE ME UP WHEN IT’S OVER

Every new EP they sound different but it’s still good and it’s still Lovejoy!

FAVORITE TRACK: IT’S GOLDEN HOUR SOMEWHERE

HAMMER NO MORE THE FINGERS - SILVER ZEBRA

Sometimes when I am sad I remember that I live in the year that Hammer No More the Fingers released a new album after a twelve year hiatus and I am happy again.

FAVORITE TRACK: UNDERWATER PARTY MUSEUM and CRITTERS (TREASURE TIME)

PIZZA TOWER SOUNDTRACK - MR. SAUCEMAN, CLASCYJITTO, AND POST ELVIS

Finally, the spiritual successor to the Sonic CD (JPN/EU) soundtrack we’ve all been waiting for. Please release the halloween tracks for download soon!

FAVORITE TRACK: THERE’S A BONE IN MY SPAGHETTI!

THE WRENS

This band is awusome

PLEASE NOTE: These numbers are incomplete and do not account for the tracks not available on Spotify.

FAVORITE TRACK: YOU COULD NOT POSSIBLY MAKE ME CHOOSE

SINGLE TRACK LIGHTNING ROUND

BLACK BALLOONS - THE RARE OCCASIONS

PURE BLOOD - DAREHARU

BRAND NEW COLONY - THE BETHS AND PICKLE DARLING

SEVEN DAYS A WEEK/AH, MARIA - GODDAMN WOLVES

FROM THE START - GOOD KID

ELECTRICAL FORECAST - INABAKUMORI

25 OR 6 TO 4 - CHICAGO

THOUSANDS OF YEARS - LAST DINOSAURS

DONE DONE DONE - JEFF ROSENSTOCK

PSEUDUMBRA PHAUXTASM - MARCY NABORS AND JAMIE PAIGE

BEWARE THE FOREST’S MUSHROOMS (PIKMIN EDITION) - YOKO SHIMOMURA, SEASLUX, AND CAPRICEFRENATA

MISCELLANEOUS 

STRONG FEMALE CHARACTER - FERN BRADY

I think this was the only book I read this year. It’s crazy to read a book about an upbringing that was very different from mine but still have the feeling deep down that we are made of the same stuff (autism).

MAINTENANCE PHASE

A podcast that will make you view fatness, health, and academic research differently forever. I listened to the whole backlog of episodes while playing minecraft.

Thank you for reading! I hope you have a wonderful new year! 🎉🎆🎇🎉

[circus-k]

1, 7, 8, 12, 22, 29 and 30 for the ship thingy 🗣🗣

sonlah AND johnic......thas right double whammy,,,.

oh boy!!!!!!!!!!! the blorbo bingies!!

1- What’s their love languages?

sonic's definitely quality time and maybe some acts of service. lah's would probably be like.... gifts but less in a materialistic way and more of a sentimental 'i thought of you' way. johnny would be uhhhhhh... idk you're the johnny expert i'll just steal YOUR hc about him /silly

7- Who is the more romantic one?

100% lah, johnny probably tries but sonic is just like. we're rivals what could be more romantic than that (they all settled into their own flavours of qpr eventually)

8- Do they have any favorite activities to do together?

lah gets sonic into photography and uhh. johnic rival to bf pipeline they still do rival stuff but like..... slash romantic just trust me on this one. they also all just have normal hangout and explore places and even though sonic has probably zipped through every corner of the world actually slowing down and taking the time to enjoy it with his partners is very special to him

and like. between lah being a ghost and johnny being a robot pirate i believe they can go anywhere and everywhere. though if there's boat travel sonic's like. dead. woopsie daisy

12- Who gets up the earliest? Who has the worst sleep schedule? Who is the sleepiest?

johnny's like. part of a crew he definitely gets up early he wakes up with the sunrise and is like !!! woopeee!! lah has like. a vague schedule but su and wu have to basically drag her out of bed so i dub her the sleepiest. and sonic just wakes up and goes to bed whenever. like he's somehow refreshed and ready for whatever but he has NO sleep schedule

22- How do they apologize after arguments?

after a fight sonic silently sits by them and then after ten thousand hours they talk about it and where they were coming from and even if they don't agree they are #1 communicators so cool so awesome

29- What is something they can never agree on? How do they meet in the middle?

idc what happened in rush sonic is TERRIFIED of open water and can hardly be on a boat without going a little crazy. johnny's like. heartbroken cause he's a pirate and also a shark and he loves the water but he also like. understands that he can't just magically have sonic get over his phobia but they have races on land and whatnot or hang out on the beach or maybe. like a really small and shallow area and johnny pinky promises that he won't let anything bad happen to him

for sonlah idk... i mean lah's a little bit evil but like. god forbid women do anything?? i believe in women's wrongs (sonic would try getting lah some healthier hobbies and uhhhhh. she doesn't kidnap ever again <33)

30- Free space! Say something about this ship that you want to say!

sobs my eyes out SONLAH MY BEST FRIEND SONLAH. JOHNIC MY. I DIDNT FIXATE ON YOU BUT JOHNIC YOU ARE SO SO COOL.

i love that we both decided to draw them on 4/4 that's iconic now. johnic anniversary <33

and sonlah.. i'm working on the ship week thing. it's still so silly to me that i like. idk. i have an entire timeline thing post-notw and post-unleashed and it's entirely hc and entirely for the sake of a hedgehog and a ghost falling in love.

[thebourbontruth]

Whiskey of the year 2022 Part 1

My top 3 favorite finalists for 2022

If you don’t want to read my commentary or Best of lists, skip a few paragraphs to the heading: “My favorite American Whiskeys of 2022”.

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it lots more, Best Whiskey lists have become like grains of sand and more or less “suggestions”. If you really like or trust someone, especially if they are some sort of globally accepted authority then maybe go with it, but always with this grain of sand. Now with hundreds (I’d not thousands of self professed or implied “experts”) my issue has always been that a “Best Whiskey list” is dependent on:

1. The geek having a clue.

2. The geek having no ulterior motive/s.

3. The geek not being on the utter, payroll, or beholden in someway to those on their list or at least those high on it.

4. The geek gets or takes nothing of value from the very brands they have/are rating/reviewing/commenting on.

5. How they accessed the sample they are reviewing/rating?

6. Did/do mortals and muggles have easy msrp access to the stuff still or at least when sampled?

If it was tried on some sort of free junket or given to them as a brand sample this can influence the decision. If it’s a free provided brand sample this could influence the decision or even a rigged sample that is especially good. So basically beware of a flawed system. Similar in many ways to how competitions are flawed. One popular Whiskey Geek that makes a living on tasting provided and free stuff now has a Top 100 list. WTF I say! If you don’t know why a top 100 list isn’t ridiculous already, you might want to stick to beer or White Zin. Bottom line is no one is trying even a fraction of the available Bourbons and Rye for a true.y comprehensive and meaningful “Best of” pick to make it very relevant in any case. Even then, it’s subjective and subject to my 1-6 list above. With that said, I attempt to take a whack in 2023 to my favorite American Whiskies of 2022.

My Favorite American Whiskeys of 2022- in no particular order

I very rarely take free samples from brands. When I do I try and reciprocate in someway to even things out. And yes, through relationships I still sip a thing or two that slips through the cracks but I try my hardest to be honest to the Bourbon Truth. Unlike many people getting/taking free samples, I’m not afraid or fearful that a negative review will

• Piss off the brand

• Hurt the possibility of getting other samples from the brand

• Refusal of the brand to advertise

• Provide interviewees or guests to the blog, podcast, etc doing the review/rating.

Whiskey popularity in 2022 builds on the same rampant confusion and viral nature of American Whiskey appreciation as a lifestyle, hobby, or serious interest. I’ll go to a store, bar, friends home, my basement with hundreds of open bottles and I find myself being drawn back to the whiskey equivalent to your favorite comfy slippers, coat, rusting dented frying pan or whatever. To me that bottle is movie equivalent like “Shawshank”, “Holy Grail”, “Dumb and Dumber (of course), or a dozen movies that rewatching hundreds of times and never get old. We take for granted the great bottles always available practically everywhere in the USA, even on a plane at 30,000 feet. You always know what your going to get and it’s ALWAYS going to be good to great. It’s going to be a great value and a ton of time and effort has gone into that bottle to make and keep it really good.

My 3 favorite everyday sippers in 2022

MAKERS MARK

This stuff has been around since 1958! 65ish years! Wheated Bourbon that many consider to be a close clone to the original Stitzel Weller/Van Winkle family process and recipe. A respectable 90 proof. Maybe even the SW yeast if you study up on the history. Yes, a bit thin at times and admittedly about 4-6 years short of greatness, I’m drawn to it when I want a good value pour without much mystery. The consistency over my drinking lifetime is amazing. My favorite go to for a free pour in several post pandemic trips to Las Vegas in 2022. Maker’s is a welcome friend and always a very nice pour. While the masses are going crazy over the usually spotty quality, often tainted all things Weller for its “Wheated’ ess”, Maker’s is my subtle winner 7 days a week for Wheated Bourbon.

WOODFORD RESERVE

1996, 26 years the good old Woodford Reserve is derived from the standard Brown Forman Old Forester Bourbon Mashbill of 72% corn, 18% Rye, and 10% malted barley. A slightly altered version of the Old Forester Yeast. Lincoln Henderson, Chris Morris, now Elisabeth McCall have kept this on a consistently great path for a long time. Again, great value, always on the shelf and you know you’ll get the same flavor year after year. Sweat Nilla wafer, Maple syrup, Chocolate, with just the right amount of woodiness. A little spicer than a wheated Bourbon so add cinnamon, floral, allspice notes, 90.4 proof that holds up well to a big cube or ice ball (never use small cubes in a whiskey you don’t want over diluted).

ELIJAH CRAIG SMALL BATCH

Used to be 12 years old with an age statement. Now thought to be 8-10 year average without an age statement. 78% Corn, 10% Rye, 12% Malted Barley. This one will be sweeter due to 78% corn. The longer aging is what really shines through on this one. Like the other two above, this is a long time recipe that draws much of its superior complexity from its longer aging. I hope that the suits at Heavenhill draw the line on 8 year being the youngest that goes into this standard Elijah Craig. It will seriously lose its mojo younger. This would wreck my love for the brand. At $25-$35 a bottle and 94 proof I haven’t come across a better accessible Bourbon at such a reasonable price. Since 1986 the original Bourbon standard Bourbon Mashbill has endured. Over 30 years it’s been a safe bet.

Put Woodford, Maker’s, or Elijah against things twice+ as expensive and much harder to come-by. In blind tastings you’ll see why I’m giving credit where credit is due to these solid, safe, accessible favorite everyday bottles for 2022. See my favorite #1 pick whiskey for 2022 in my next post.

[cosmicsnowleopardcrusader]

Holy fucking cow did I have a full on past life story dream. It goes something like this. Everything took place at dads property, we were all stationed there, part of a huge military mission. I remember Charlie, Davis, MC, Hayley (all Wrigley neighbors), and my old Husker vision friend Keegan being part of our platoon crew. At one point I said something smartass to Hay in front of the whole hundreds of people and then said sorry for being sassy in front of everyone. Anyway, we all had our little job every day, I remember saying “Charlie I haven’t seen you in 2 days bc you’ve been inside doin a shit gig” I also remember making fun of Davis because he has the worst shit gig cleaning dead guts in the yard just out yonder in the cornfield behind dads gardens. I was making fun bc that used to be me as a junior cadet and now i was in charge of way more important things.

I remember being kidnapped or else getting into the wrong car by mistake and all the sudden found myself back in time, in either Antarctica, the moon, or else dads property in arctic frigid snowy weather. I couldn’t tell. But there were hundreds of thousands of soldiers in orange astronaut suits setting up camps, tents, existing, eating, doing their own jobs. The vibe was a bunch of young over-confident boys who were so excited for war bc their innocent little hearts haven’t been tainted by it yet. Who were they even fighting? Everyone’s ego was huge, everyone was a jerk with jerk attitudes. Reminded me of fraternity vibes lol. I remember first showing up to the new arctic base camp feeling horrified. “Am I stuck here forever? How do I get home? How did I even get here? Why am I here? I’ll never get home ever again. I need to hide so nobody figures me out.”

But then a weird non linear time thing happened and I remembered there being a huge all out war at dads (but in the future where i was stationed/living beforehand) and I had a chance to stop the war from happening, here and now, in this barren war base even tho i was just 1 of 100s of thousands of brainwashed soldiers. I was able to keep undercover, invisible female among the many men. I remember still recognizing a lot of the young soldiers even tho i was (???) years back in time in a different setting. I remember thinking, these boys are actually good people, they’re just programmed with war ego.

The key to saving everyone and preventing the war was … lol… chocolate that made people loving and happy. I remember in the future, we had a huuuuuge pile of chocolate that we’d Melt down to pieces and give to people (I feel like we were maybe mining the chocolate at dads from the future setting??)

There were moments where I would flash back to the future and be mid-war, seeing millions of people fighting all over dads property, crawling on top of each other trying to run and get away, or else chase people down. It was true chaos and darkness. There was a moment where I was climbing up 100 bodies over this trench by the south driveway and people just threw me over (it reminded me of getting tossed over the mud trenches during my tough mudder). I remember being horrified, like is this really the end of everyone I knew / worked with for so long? In that moment, I flashed back to Antarctica base camp and knew I was there, back in time, to prevent this current war i was currently witnessing.

Back in Antarctica on base camp, I ended up finding a secret room I could post up in. I already had the chocolate with me, I think bc I had taken it with me when i time traveled, already having known my mission, even before i really knew?? Lolol. Anyway after dinner, one of the guys saw me slithering around being sketch and walked into my secret room. “What do you think you’re doing??” I remember being like “just trust me on this, this is going to prevent a war of all wars.” And he trusted me right away and helped recruit more good soldiers to help me with this mission.

I remember a huuuuuugeeee pile of chocolate in a huge ball being melted down into different pieces. I don’t remember how, but we were able to dish it out to everyone. I flashed back to the future and there was no war that had ever taken place. I had saved everyone from dying horrible deaths. I was successful in preventing the war.

[beyond-abyss]

Arkham Nights (2-16-21)

Jason Todd during D2 (Dick & Damian) time as Batman & Robin.

Darkness is not what I fear lurks under my skin. No, everybody’s got a little darkness, and in my line of work, it helps keep you alive. Bruce wears his darkness with a matching cape, and it’s done wonders for him. But me? I fear all those bright, warm feelings swirling around inside. They make me soft. They make me weak. They make me vulnerable. Feeling positive, warm things is why I trusted the wrong person, my birth mother, and she walked me into a trap with the Joker. He beat me, broke me, and left me for dead. Her too. And still, those bright feelings wouldn’t let me be. I had to try and save her. Sheila. She was my mother, after all. I had to try. So I threw myself between her and the bomb, with the very last of my strength. I remember the impact, like ten thousand crowbars at once. I remember the heat, and tumbling through the air. I barely felt the pain, but I watched the building come down around me, and then everything was darkness.

It was quiet in the dark. In the nothing. I was beyond the pain, beyond the betrayal and the disappointment. But again, there was light. More than anything else, that scared the crap outta me. Another second chance that I could screw up somehow. Heh, boy have I screwed it up. I mean, how many people really come back to life? How many dead kids get the chance to return and grow up? 

In the short term, I was trying to set some things right. I wanted what any ghost wants: for my killer to be punished. But that’s all I was anymore...a ghost haunting the lives they’d all gotten on with. Deep down, I knew that my death meant something to them, that everything echoed with that emptiness, but it only reminded me of the emptiness I felt. That kid in the goofy costume was dead. Whatever remained of him, I left behind when I crawled out of my own coffin. In my absence, there was a new Robin. I was just a shadow, a ghost. Who was I supposed to be?

If I was haunting them, why not really haunt them? I put on a red hood to become the personification of both of Batman’s greatest mistakes. After all, it was his failure that shaped me.

…Yeah, I know that’s just bullshit I told myself to be able to sleep at night. Truth is, I didn’t know what I was doing. The plans, the killing… I needed something to focus on, someone to hit, to direct the burning within me. It was worse than before, so much stronger than when I was a kid. The rage. The pain. I’m terrified that there’s nothing of me left under all the hurt and anger.

…Again, bullshit. I’m afraid that I am still here under all this misery. If that stupid, scared, hopeful, little brat is still part of me, then why am I doing such awful things? I’m not afraid of the darkness that drives me. Still being that weak, soft, vulnerable kid deep down is what I fear.

***

Waking up in Arkham Asylum is awful for reasons I never expected. Honestly, the food and the company’s not as horrible as I’d always imagined when Batman and I dragged those sorry lunatics back here. The awful part is all the time alone with my mind. 

I don’t blame Dick for locking me in here. I was getting a bit carried away with all that, “Let the punishment fit the crime!” slogan-making and grandstanding. It’s just that after Bruce died…(which I don’t buy 100%)...it was like I lost part of myself. At that point, I was already slipping, wondering who I was. I’ve tried on too many masks. I’m not ready to look underneath. Fuck. But here I am, all this time on my cuffed hands. Maybe I am a bit pissed that Dick put me in here.

Days go by. Shrinks try to tell me how I feel, and I tell them I’m not crazy. I take their tests again and again. I’m simply homicidal. They keep me on meds anyway. Meds that slow me down. Meds that take the edge off the rage. However, the loneliness is magnified. And the company here is no good. Literally. I’m surrounded by the villains I grew up wailing on.

These freaks don’t know that though. Between these walls, I’m the Red Hood. I’m just another local badass who fought the Bat. So some of them are friendly. Nygma brags about his “clever” death traps, and I snort. As a kid, Riddler was only ever an inconvenience. So...I give Nygma some pointers on how to really challenge Batman, and suddenly Nygma gives me his ice cream on Fridays. 

No one really bothers me. But again, no one knows that some of their scars were delivered by my fists, back when I wore more green and yellow. They ask, though. Who is the Red Hood? Smirking is usually my answer, but the truth is that I don’t know. Am I even Jason Todd anymore? Jason was Bruce’s son...and he’s gone.

***

    Sonovabitch, Bruce isn’t dead! He comes to visit me. I know I should shut up, I’m talking too much, but I can’t help it. It’s been so lonely in Arkham. And I bet he thinks I’m just trying to distract him. Maybe I am. Maybe I want him listening instead of looking. Bags under my eyes: the nightmares keep me from dreamland. I slump in the chair, letting him think it’s confidence, that I’m relaxed, but really I’m drained. I need out, I need something to focus on. Finally, I’m being transferred to a regular prison. I can start to plan when I’m there.

My visit from Batman hits like a bullet to the heart. I want to hate him for leaving me...leaving me in Arkham that is. But I was so relieved he was alive. And he came to see me! Bruce came to check on me and show me that he’s alive. 

Then that rage creeps its way back in. No more meds to dull me, and I’m sent to prison. Bruce came to see me, but he left me! Once again, he’s getting on with his life without me in it. All the mushy, soft, weak feelings are rearing their ugly heads since Batman visited me. Warm like blood from an exit wound.

So I distract myself. I kill. Surrounded by scum, it’s a buffet of death I can gorge myself on, drown myself in, as long as it keeps me from thinking about the feelings.

~

In the halls of the All-Caste, the ancient boy prompts me to reclaim my most cherished memory. I know what it is. Another spot of light inside of me that makes me soft, and warm… Warm like that night when we weren’t Batman and Robin. We were just a father and his son, curled up watching some bad movie together. I leaned into Bruce’s side and fell asleep, safe and happy. The warmth of that memory radiates at me, but I walk on by. “Keep it,” I tell the confused guru. 

{Last scene from Red Hood and the Outlaws (N52) #3}

[medemedemed]

I'm going back to work tomorrow, after more than ten days of staying home for... viral... reasons, and I'm feeling off, like a mix of anxiety and bittersweetness and terror and laziness. Obviously, instead of dealing with that like a normal person, I decide to just word vomit on a blog where potentially more than twenty-one thousand people could be reading my most personal spontaneous thoughts. How's that for a Sunday night?

It's weird, isn't it. I matched into my dream program, this is what I've worked for basically all my life. I spent the first two weeks not being totally comfortable in this new skin though; not knowing how to stand, how to speak, what hat to wear. I was slowly shedding my past skin to become a new version of my resident self, while navigating a completely new environment, new people, new systems, new everything. And than I had to abruptly take myself away from that, and spend ten days at home, with absolutely nothing to do. I wanted to be productive, trust me. There were so many things I could've done; I could've studied, painted, written a new song, decluttered my digital space, unpacked that box of decor that's still sitting in my closet... but instead I went for the road with least resistance, the one needing the least energy, and I binged watched movies and TV shows (and read two books!). And part of me is mad at myself for that. But the other part just doesn't care.

It's a bizarre feeling, to feel so unmotivated in this new chapter of my life. I had felt some sort of senioritis hit me back in June, as I was finishing the last chapter, but I feel like it has never left? I still feel unmotivated, lethargic, like I don't belong anywhere. I'm not sure I feel quite at home in this new apartment yet, despite having spent 100% of my time between these four walls in the past few days. I feel lonely, but I also don't want to be social. I feel sad, and it's starting to become comfortable. It's an uneasy mess of emotions, and I don't know why it's happening.

That's a lie. Rationally, I know what it is. It's a lot of adjustment disorder peeking through. It's a lot of new things in very little time. It's also majorly imposter syndrome, hitting me right in the face with all the new responsibilities I've gained on July 1st. And just as I was adapting, I was thrown out into isolation, and I went into complete inertia. And the less you do, the less you want to do. Ain't that how it works? Rationally, I also know that motivation doesn't drive action; action drives motivation. I know that comes tomorrow, once I'll be forced to go to work, to see people, to get back into the role I was learning, the cogwheel will start spinning, and the engine will start again. Rationally I know all that. But right now, right before I get there, I feel like wallowing in this mess, and at the same time hope that I'll get out of here asap.

Until tomorrow, I'm gonna let myself be a potato and potate. But tomorrow is a new day, I know it. It has to be.

Hope your Sunday scaries are not this scary.

(and if you've read this far... whyyy but also i'm sorry)