#ABSOLUTELY LOSING MY SHIT IN THE CLUB RN

[ultralightpoe]

HII!!

could you please do a tangerine (bullet train) x fem!reader lil fic inspired by the song ‘life in the fast lane’ by eagles xx 🤍🤍

Life In The Fast Lane- Tangerine

Authors Note: YOU'RE KIDDING! THIS SONG! THAT MAN! OMG GOOD EYE-- I am working on requests rn. They are open until sunday so I recommend getting those in

Warnings: Stripper, drugs, abuse, death (not reader or tan)

Word Count: 2507

If you want to make a character + song request LOOK HERE

Enjoy!

He was a hard-headed man

He was brutally handsome, and she was terminally pretty

She held him up, and he held her for ransom

In the heart of the cold, cold city

The hallways of the club were dim, the very few lights there were flashing to the beat of the song that the girls on stage were dancing to. A feeling of dread filled you and you found yourself dragging your heels a little slower as you made your way to the private dance rooms of the building. 

You had just gotten off the stage, looking forward to sitting in the locker rooms for a moment when your ‘boss’ told you that you got the blue regular. One of the other strippers laughed, looking at you and muttering good luck. When you asked who he was she merely explained that he was a regular that always wore a blue suit and was hard headed and rude. How wonderful. 

By the time you reach the door you are sure you’re ready, taking a deep breath in as you turn the knob and sneak your way in. He doesn’t smile when he sees you, merely just tilts his head and raises a brow. 

You realize then that you are scowling, and as much as you don’t want to be here you need the money so you place a flirty smile on your face and lean on the pole in the center of the room, letting him admire you. “Hmmm…”

“What’s wrong, love?” He asks, flexing his fingers around the glass he was holding. He tilts it up to his lips, his eyes never leaving you as you do a small twirl around the pole. 

“I was just expecting someone….more….”

“More?” 

“They said you were hard- headed.” You smirk, one leg hooking around the metal and lifting yourself to spin before you land back on the ground and strut to him. “Hard-headed and rude.”

“Well something is hard, and I can tell you right now it ain’t my head love.” He teases, watching as you straddle his lap. “You’re quite a treat, aren’t you?”

“I like to think so,” You breathe out, twirling your hips to the beat of the song before his hands slide up your thighs. You slap them away, watching a possessive look flash in his eyes before shaking your hand. “No touching, against the rules.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to take you home.”

“I have plans after this.” You smile, trying not to look into his eyes. 

“It’s quite adorable that you think you have a choice, pet.”

He had a nasty reputation as a cruel dude

They said he was ruthless, they said he was crude

They had one thing in common

They were good in bed, she'd say

"Faster, faster, the lights are turnin' red"

He had quite the reputation around the club, and they weren’t good. The girls all whispered about the cruel things he had done, what he did for a living. They all warned you to stay away if you knew what was good for you. 

But you had gotten your first taste of him that night, and there was no going back from that. You were absolutely addicted. The first man in bed that could actually match your speed. 

“They say you shot a man in the club once.” You whisper, working him in your hands as he speeds up the car to pass a yellow light. “Is that true?”

“If it is?” He seethes out, trying to keep his cool as you work him to the edge. “Shit-”

“I just want to know- That was is red!” He runs it anyways, moving one hand over your own to help finish him. You watch in awe, a heat traveling your skin as he cums. 

“Pull over.” You order, making him look to you as he pants out, his load a mess across shirt. “Pull over. I want you.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

surely make you lose your mind

(Life in the fast lane) yeah

Are you with me so far?

The addiction to him was maddening, you found yourself thinking about him every second of every hour. You imagined him in the audience as you danced, imagined him under you as you did private dances rather than the older uglies. 

You couldn’t get enough of him. 

He, little did you know, was in the same position. It was beginning to mess up his job and Lemon was beginning to question him as well. He just wanted to breathe you in, and feel every inch of you every moment. 

Eager for action and hot for the game

The coming attraction, the drop of a name

They knew all the right people, they took all the right pills

They threw outrageous parties, they paid heavenly bills

Tan soon learned that the sooner he finished his missions the faster he can get back to you, which made him better at what he did. He was making money, so much money that he was sure he could buy the world for you. It was what you deserved. 

Everytime he got back from a trip he brought you a small trinket, telling you about the place he had been in as you danced for him, eyes gleaming with love and excitement. Something tightened in his chest every time he saw this look on you, he wanted to make you this happy all the time. 

“You seem mellow today, love?” He whispers, nipping at your jaw as you grinded back into him, eyes closed in content. Although he was happy you seem relaxed he was beginning to worry. 

“Took a pill…” You sigh, sliding his hands up your body until they were on your chest, your back touching his chest as you swirl your hips. He gasps out, cock springing to life but his head is throwing red flags. 

He takes a hand away from your chest, drawing a whine out of you, before turning your head to look back at him. “What type of pill?”

“I don’t know. The boss gave me….” You smile dreamily and he pulls your forehead to his own. 

“Why’s that?”

“He says all the good girls take em. And I want good shifts.” You explain, reaching for the hand that was still on your chin and taking his thumb into your mouth to bite on it. “Tan…..I need you.”

“Don’t take the pills love.” He warns and you shake your head. 

“It’s mardi gras party, everyone took em” And he really wanted to keep arguing but before he knew it you had one of his hands up your skirt and he lost all train of thought.

There were lines on the mirror, lines on her face

She pretended not to notice, she was caught up in the race

Out every evening, until it was light

He was too tired to make it, she was too tired to fight about it

He kisses you goodbye for once, telling you before he leaves which he never really did before. By the time he gets back he is desperate to make it to the club.

For the first time there they tell him you were busy, he asks when you were free and the security tells him in the morning. Tangerine, wanting nothing more than to bash the guys skull in and go grab you, waited in the parking lot smoking until the sun came up and mostly everyone was gone. 

He waited and waited until finally another stripper opened the back door, dried blood going down her face starting at her nose, and she waved him in. He tried not to panic about the tears rolling down her cheeks as he followed her to the back rooms. 

There was a circular booth around a table with a mirror, and he cast a side glance at the traces of lines on the table and the rolled up dollar bill before his eyes tracked you down. 

Sat in the center of the booth, slightly hidden in the dark, you sat numb to the world. Your eyes puffy with tears and one cheek reddened beyond belief, when he gets closer he can see lines of fingerprints on the skin and his body heats up.

“Your fucking manager?” He seethes, tone harsh as his hands gentle. He pulls you closer, trying not to scare you off. 

“I’m tired.” You whispered, leaning your forehead on his chest as he nodded and moved to pick you up. He was too tired to go after the manager tonight, and he wanted to get you home as soon as possible. 

His arms wrapped around your torso and under your thighs, lifting you with the ease of a man that spent his whole life fighting and killing, heading to the door when a hand clasps him on his bicep. Nails dug into his skin as he turned to look. 

“You can’t tell anyone- he’ll kill her.” The stripper with the bloody nose croaks. He bit back a smile, debating on whether or not he should tell her. But he doesn’t, not when you begin whining in his arms.

surely make you lose your mind

(Life in the fast lane) yeah

(Life in the fast lane) everything, all the time

(Life in the fast lane) a-ha

Lemon was shocked when Tangerine carried you into the apartment, never having seen his brother's girlfriend before, and was even more shocked when Tangerine laid you on their couch. 

“Get me some water, will ya mate?” He asks, tone sharp as he shucks off his jacket and rolls up his sleeves, not taking his eyes off your form while Lemon rushes to grab what he asked for. “Come on lovey, open them eyes for me.”

You don’t, not even when he pats your cheek.

“Is she dead?” Lemon asks, bringing the water. A wave of panic climbs up Tangs throat and he nearly screams, but he reigns himself in and grabs the water before pouring some in your mouth. 

You cough, eyes cracking open a little as he forces you to drink. “You’re driving me mad over here.” He whispers.

You, not fully awake, begin crying softly. Tears running down your cheeks as you curl up. “Don’t be mad. Pleasetan…”

“No no no. I’m not mad. No one is mad.” He soothes, moving to sit on the couch and lay with you. “I just meant I’m crazy worried, love.”

Blowin' and burnin', blinded by thirst

They didn't see the stop sign, took a turn for the worse

She said, "Listen baby, you can hear the engine ring"

"We've been up and down this highway, haven't seen a goddam thing"

Your phone blew up with calls from your manager at the club over the next few days, going from fake worried to just downright threats, telling you to show up. The last one reading ‘stupid whore better be laying in a ditch when I find you’.

Tangerine would go and handle the situation now, but he was focused on you and your withdrawals. You had been sweating up a storm, sick and puking nearly every five minutes and thrusting the blankets off to breathe even though you were shivering. 

He didn’t understand how you could be shivering cold and still be sweating more than the ocean, Lemon said it was normal. 

You cried a lot, which was completely okay, and you apologized way too much. You begged him not to be mad and he felt nauseous every time because how could he possibly be mad? Every night he curled around you, rubbing the bruised cheek and letting you cry into his chest before finally passing out clutching onto him. He was happy you were here, in his arms. But he wished it had happened without you in this state.

“Easy now, love.” He soothes, rubbing up and down your spine as he got comfortable. “We’ll make some breakfast in the morning. It is gonna be okay.”

He would make it okay.

He said, "Call the doctor, I think I'm gonna crash"

"The doctor say he's comin', but you gotta pay him cash"

They went rushin' down that freeway, messed around and got lost

They didn't care, they were just dyin' to get off, and it was

The man screams and cries in agony, begging for help, begging for a doctor. Tangerine doesn’t loosen up on his work, slicing up and down his hand with a saw as he pictures your crying face and your soft little pleas. He didn’t give a shit if this man was in pain, he had hurt you.

“ILLGIVEYOUANYTHINGYOUWANT” The man, Earl, screams as his other hand fights against the handcuff on the desk. Tangerine had already broken all his fingers on that hand and would soon be cutting out his tongue so he couldn’t talk. 

It was funny that he was offering anything he wanted, what Tangerine wanted was to be home with you enjoying the first good day you have had in weeks. But instead he left you cuddling his brother and watching thomas the train so he could be here, torturing the shit that had hurt you. 

“IHAVE - C…..C-CASHINTHESAFE=” He screams out as the hand finally falls off, Tangerine smiling and heading for the safe before he passes out of blood loss. 

“Code?” He asks, turning to look as the man mumbles out the 4 numbers to the code, a small feeling of pride filling him when the door swings open. “Ah. What a lovely chap you are.”

He didn’t mean it, his tone was dripping with sarcasm as he grabbed everything in the safe and threw it in a bag. Then he stops as he comes upon it, a picture of you. You hadn’t known the picture was taken, the camera looked to be up higher as you smiled on the phone with someone, no top since you had been in the dressing room. 

This must have been the night Tangerine called to tell you he was returning, you had teased him by telling him you were changing. “Oh bloody hell.”

“Imsorryimsorry imsorry-” The man sobs and Tangerine rolls his eyes and aims the gun he had hidden in his waistline. 

“I’m not.”

surely makes you lose your mind

(Life in the fast lane) yeah

(Life in the fast lane) everything all the time

(Life in the fast lane) a-ha

Four months later you are welcoming him home from a trip, jumping on him the second he crosses the door and tightening around him like a koala. “I. Missed. You.”

The words were said between kisses and he would have answered in same but instead he just carried you to the room with his lips crashing against yours and diving onto the bed. 

“I brought somethin back for ya.” He finally answers, panting to catch his breath when he pulls back from the kiss, pulling out a small ring he had stolen from a store. “Think ya might want it?”

(As per usual I'm nervous and hope you like it. Btw I'm a slut for comments so please comment! And send in your character + song requests before Sunday)

[astxrwar]

Ngl, your physical therapy Bucky had me giggling and kicking my feet, blushing in the club rn.

I'm a SUCKER for touch starved - forced proximity - nice older guy and holy shit how are you even alive RCs. Lololol, you live like this vibes. Totally not for personal reasons...👀

Ugh. That gave me life. I'm not encouraging that story in the future but man... I am encouraging that story in the future lololol

AUGH YOU’RE ENCOURAGING MY BRAINROT i was walking to lab today and my brain came up with More Stuff for this because of course it did

imagining everything sort of comes to a head when you run into him while Out bar hopping or at a club or something with friends. and he’d be there with steve and sam and nat and your friends are Drunk and upon meeting him are like “omg you’re right he IS really hot!1!!” which is just like. AUGH PLEASE SHUT UP!!!! DO NOT SAY THAT IN FRONT OF HIM! anyway both groups end up leaving at the same time and you end up on the same subway line and then getting off at the same stop because you apparently live near each other. imagining almost tripping catastrophically on that little gap between the train and the platform and he’s like. jesus christ okay I understand how you keep injuring yourself you’re hopeless. making jokes about how he feels like it'd be irresponsible to let you walk the rest of the way home alone (his apartment is closer to the station than yours) and you're just like. laughing it off. he's just generally a flirty guy, teases everyone, yeah it makes you feel all warm and good-nervous but it's not like he's serious. except it's summer and rainy season and when you guys get to his apartment it starts to POUR!! and in NYC especially lately (thanks climate change!) the rain can get INSANE so im imagining him being like. ah geez do you want to just come in for a bit until the rain stops there's no way you're walking in this. and he’s Drunk and you’re also Drunk but it’ll be fine! your phone weather app thing says it'll be over in twenty minutes and yeah you definitely don't want to walk in it, you'd get home soaked and city rain is nasty.

you nearly trip taking off your shoes (i do this all the time. augh) and cue more playful teasing about how absolutely Hopeless you are. puttering around in the kitchen like ‘do you want… i dunno, like, a tea, or something?” (sure) (why not) meanwhile it’s still POURING. you guys start talking about just like. whatever. random stuff. and eventually he mentions how you're a lot more comfortable rn than during PT, to which you reply (because you're drunk) that it's because he's not, like. touching you. Bucky's some combination of flattered/pleased/endeared by that, cocky little grin and "oh, yeah?" and all, and you're just like. whatever, man, at this point it's not like it's a secret, and he'd said that people are like this with him a lot, so. Except-- he says this as he's crossing the kitchen, maybe you're not looking at him, watching the rain, but you can hear his voice getting closer behind you-- what he'd actually said is that a lot of people find him attractive. not that a lot of people REACT to him the way you do.

when you turn back from the window he's standing pretty close, leaned against the same stretch of kitchen counter, and he reaches out for the little ceramic mug of tea you have clutched in your hands, but doesn't take it from you. you manage to stumble through asking him what he's doing; minimizing collateral damage, he says, his mouth twitching up at the corners; you immediately drop the mug as soon as his fingers brush the curve of your cheek, and that little almost-smile breaks into a a full-blown grin as he sets it safely on the countertop.

you're real fuckin' cute, you know that? he says.

oh-- c'mon, that's no fair, you mumble in protest, now you're--

he tips your chin up with his fingers and you lose track of whatever you'd been saying like somebody'd reached in your head and grabbed hold of your train of thought, pulled it until it snapped right in two.

--you're doing it on purpose, you finish feebly.

yeah, he agrees. yeah, I am.

(the rain is long over by the time you actually end up leaving. oop.)

[shastafirecracker]

For previous context, see @mydetheturk‘s post about Vash fearing Knives & the violation of Vash’s autonomy, and the followup Stampede-specific post by @pancake-breakfast about that Vash‘s relationship with guns.

Now for my ramblings, which are ALL SPOILERS ALL THE TIME for all versions of Trigun but particularly the manga - so please be mindful if you’re doing book club and don’t want to know things before you get to them!!

ETA I made a couple of edits because I didn’t realize I copy pasted the pre-proofreading version of my doc, lol my brain is fried like an egg (it’s feels-like-110F outside rn)

So I tagblogged before but I'll own my shit this time: I wanna talk about Vash-as-gun. Vash's three guns move from external to his body (revolver) to implanted foreign object in his body (gun arm) to literally part of his cellular structure (angel arm). His reluctance to reveal each one steps up in magnitude. His angel arm is the primary reason he sees himself as monstrous.

Pancake’s analysis of Stampede is fantastic and I just want to loop in the other two versions because I have had the brainrot for decades and adore them all. First, it's really interesting to me that what pancake said about Knives giving or creating the conditions for all of his weapons is also explicitly true of the 98 anime but not of the original source material - it seems like adaptations really like to source Vash's access to weapons and/or ability to use weapons back to his brother, "the violent one," positioning Vash as almost ontologically nonviolent. But I want to look at Maximum for a minute because the difference there is absolutely fascinating to me.

In 98 and Stampede, Vash shoots Knives with a gun Knives gave him. In Maximum, the flashback where he loses his arm, Vash simply picks up a gun that was nearby - specifically a gun that belonged to a human who was brutalizing him, and whom Knives had just murdered in order to rescue Vash from harm. Vash doesn't need to be handed a tool of violence; he doesn't have that moment that he has in both 98 and Stamp where he looks at it in shock, as if he'd never considered touching such a thing. No Vash is easy to anger, but Maximum Vash is the only one, upon feeling extreme anger, to immediately turn to the nearest option for retaliation. In Max we also never see how Vash got The revolver - it isn't special, it doesn't have a backstory or a secret extra purpose, it's just a gun. Just a gun that Vash has trained himself to be very, very skilled at using, presumably one in a long line of guns he has trained with.

Something I was talking about on Discord recently with some folks is that Maximum Vash is extremely willing to hurt people. He does not kill, but he does not shy away from committing violent acts, and it is much more clear through the artwork and expressions that when he shoots people, it fucking hurts them. 98 Vash retains his willingness to shoot basically anyone, but sanitizes it somewhat - his shots to the shoulders, hands, legs, etc all just get an "augh!" voice beat and someone falling over. Obviously there's real-world reasons (rating, distribution, animation style) for the lack of blood and for simplifying artwork; this is not a criticism. 98 is more cartoonish all around and I adore it and want to squish its little cheeks. BUT, back on topic: in the cases of both 98 and Maximum, we see Vash very willing to shoot people nonlethally, to subdue them - but nonlethal gunshot wounds are still an extreme physical trauma! Everyone Vash shoots suffers for it. They will have pain, possibly surgery, they'll need recovery time, they'll need medicines that might be limited in availability, they may lose function in parts of their bodies. Maximum I think invites the reader the most explicitly to think about these things, as a couple of times we see goons post-fighting-Vash in hospitals (right? I think that's true).

Stampede is fascinating in that it's chosen to make almost all of Vash's nonlethal, subduing combat moves based around using his gun as a cudgel. He smacks people unconscious all the time. And that's not to say that concussions don't have their own long term consequences, but his unwillingness to pull the trigger is part of that whole this-is-a-younger-Vash thing. I do wonder how much more willing to fire he will be in season 2. Anyway.

I'm going to gloss past his prosthetic for the moment because I haven't fully formulated my thoughts about it yet - something something body horror, something something self destructive choices made while depressed, the use of grindhouse aesthetic, the complex set of social dynamic & psychological differences between open carry and concealed carry, idk idk more other thinky thoughts I haven't thought yet.

I want to return to the angel arm though because the thing I restrained myself from saying in the book club tag due to spoilers is that: this is a gun only Knives and Vash can fire. For the first ~massive number of pages of the manga, only Knives ever fires an angel arm, and he always only fires Vash's angel arm. Knives is also perfectly capable of summoning the same sort of vast destructive potential, though in the manga his takes the form of giant blades instead of a gun (whooooole other post about bringing a gun to a swordfight & vice versa, please refer to volume 14 of Maximum). But he desires to access Vash's destructive potential instead of his own. Knives' motivations are also a whole other post. The point I wanted to make was this:

Vash voluntarily fires his own angel arm ONCE, as far as I can recall. Correct me if I'm wrong. But the only time he fully generates the arm under his own power, in his right mind, of his own volition, is to escape the Ark. He has just emerged from the most oppressive and gruesome violation of his bodily autonomy he's ever experienced and, as far as we know, ever will. He has no other weapons available to him, barely even any clothes: all he has access to is his body, so he uses it. Knives shows clear shock and rage, potentially at Vash using a power Knives has come to feel belongs to Knives. Shock and rage at Vash reclaiming not only his body but the part of his biological identity that Knives knows Vash has been trying to excise for their whole lives. This may be the single most psychologically impactful moment of defiance towards Knives that Vash has ever shown, except for one other, which I will get to.

Not only does Vash fire the arm, he displays a shocking mastery of it. Somehow by putting him in a pressure cooker for months Knives has turned coal to diamond here: Vash went from unable to access his own latent power to, from then on, exhibiting comfort and even finesse with using it. He generates the arm on the Ark oriented to fire at Knives, and then effortlessly reverses the orientation to fire behind himself to make an emergency exit. Later, when Vash accesses his power again, he is able to use tiny, controlled bursts of it to not only destroy things but to load other objects (bullets) with unreleased power which he can activate at his choosing. That is a truly bonkers shift in skill and I love how the manga underplays it, because Vash so rarely says anything about how he feels about his own relationship with power, so you have to take these readings from his actions.

The other impactful moment of defiance I mentioned above is related to that total mastery of the angel arm/gate: Vash ultimately brings his trio of guns full circle by imparting the inherent quality of himself-as-gun into the most external of his guns, the original revolver. [Tangent: It's a neat visual in Stampede that they had him making gate bullets in the final showdown in episode 12, but I kind of dislike its placement in the narrative, because to me Vash's gate-bullets from the very end of the manga are a powerful symbol of his journey through his abilities. Maybe Stampede is suggesting that being plugged into the matrix and like, turning inside out through his gate or whatever in ep 11 did the same thing as the pressure cooker of the Ark in the manga, idk, we need season 2.] He makes the gate bullets for his final fight with Knives for perfectly valid strategic reasons (total control over his energy expenditure so he doesn't risk burning out by miscalculating mid-fight) but beyond strategy, there's just the fact that he's truly spitting in Knives' face by putting Plant/Gate power into a human tool. In Knives' eyes, the tool of their oppressors.

Vash melds the tool of the self with the tool of the oppressor to defy both. To prove that power is just power, it's all malleable and interchangeable, and that what matters is what you choose to do with it. Vash epitomizes "guns don't kill people, people do." (Another tangent to say that I'm not expressing my personal beliefs here; I'm sketching out stuff I'm reading into the narrative of a story, not writing a manifesto. Character study doesn't mean agreeing with or lauding everything a character stands for.)

Anyway. Vash's ultimate victory comes from two distinct ways that he chooses to use his inhumanity: first, he externalizes his destructive potential by placing it into a human-made, nonliving tool - essentially, finally able to excise from himself the part of being a Plant that had always felt monstrous to him. Second, he finally fully internalizes the part of being a Plant that he had rejected out of fear and self-disgust: intergenerational communication. He wins by talking to his sisters. He wins by allowing his selfhood to be subsumed by the collective and by trusting his own kind to love him and listen to him and not try to take away his hard-fought sense of self (all things that Knives did to him multiple times). His sisters listen to him and then they let him return to himself. I don't think he'd ever felt safe talking to them before - maybe guilty and scared, that by so thoroughly rejecting his own species, they would reject him right back. Along with the trauma reactions Knives caused, of course.

I think that's all I had at the moment about Vash-as-gun in the manga... I might return some time to the prosthetic, or go back to the other versions for more thinky noodling. But yeah! More meta plz! Delicious Trigun meta in the year of our lord 2k 23 absolutely unbelievable, we are feasting well.

[heronpoxed]

Was talking to someone the other day about SOA, and I really feel like the later seasons could’ve benefited from some lighter/humorous scenes. I wish we could’ve had a Abel bday party episode, or Jax and Tara in the bath tub scene. I think that’s why people favor (besides the writing) the early seasons..there’s so much gloom and despair from season 5-7 it really would’ve benefited from some scenes of normalcy or humor .

What are some of your favorite so-called scenes of “normalcy”? From either Tara and Jax or the club etc. Some favorites of mine are Jax and Tara in the park from season 2, hell even her ultrasound from season 3 episode 12, lol. Tara and Gemma shooting up p*rn posters at Cara cara, Juice waking up with a sign stapled to his chest while wearing a diaper (hahaha) and lastly when Jax meet Thomas for the first time.

Oh yeah, definitely. Some lightness and a lil bit of humor never hurts things. Even though I would've loved more scenes of normalcy and light humorous situations, I understand why the writers would want to incorporate less of those. In later seasons, stakes were higher, dangers were worse and people were losing their minds so I guess no one had any time or energy to joke around.

In a sense, that was the whole point of the show -- to show the viewers that the club life buried those ppl so deep in their shit that mundane things like quiet, normalcy and humor were the luxury they could no longer afford.

I absolutely love 1x03 when Gemma and SAMCRO are in an arcade just vibing and having fun like children. I love 2x03 as a whole. It's a good episode for Jax and Tara -- just them riding around, having fun and being a normal couple. It's absolutely adorable. SAMCRO getting out of prison and reuniting with their favorite people always brings smile to my face. Tara and Unser's conversation during his chemo in s5 is also my fave. Tig looking at a picture of Missy. Hell, even them just being mechanics instead of outlaws is enough to make me feel happy. There's so little of them just being happy and goofy that I cherish all the crumbs that we get.

[jekyllnahyena]

fuck it, finally gonna sit down and try and write out a sorta timeline for Juliette, specifically before she met the 141. This specific to cod, cause it’s where my ideas first started and I need the basis to put that into sw ayayayay:

the short rundown is something like this:

Juliette ‘Regard’ Dione, 35 (at least in cod), 1,93 m and grew up in Paris, has picked up a few languages over her life by now, but it’s all haunted by a strong accent

mother was french, father senegalese, she lost them when she was 12. 

Ambivert, but not something she really realized until later in life because she got used to being alone/sorta disconnected from others. 

Very easily embarrassed and excitable, but you won’t notice because she might not exactly have a resting bitch face, but more of a resting ‘I’m staring into your soul and eating it for breakfast’ face which is what earned her her callsign. 

Terrifying when angry, which you will notice. doesn’t get intimidated by anyone or anything at this point. she knows who she is, she knows what she can do, don’t try her, it’s very annoying and exhausting for her

Can drink enough to kill a horse and gets very squishy and affectionate when drunk. She remembers everything and will be terribly embarrassed about it later.

Doesn’t have an ounce of patriotism, but she can’t imagine herself outside of the military. Very aware that it’s only made everything worse for her. Will say things like ‘at least it’s taught me discipline’ with a sardonic smile. Joined for the money and free housing and thinking she’ll be able to figure out what to do afterwards.

Very good at what she does and completely aware of it too. doesn’t know how to leave and live a civilian life rn though she’s finally starting to make plans about it again

has severe problems with trusting others, especially civilians. Knows her reputation and the things she’s done and really doesn’t want to risk anyone else. 

still only hooked up with complete strangers for the longest time. she didn’t want to be emotionally attached to the person she’s sleeping with. never spends the night though.

bisexual but it never really was a thing of coming out to her. she figured it out during her clubbing days pretty easily. very much a fuck around and find out person

Has a weird nac for picking up various hobbies that she uses to kill time. (currently learning how to crochet. She’s pretty shit at it, but she’s having fun)  

Absolutely terrible cook with the exception of making coffee, which somehow always ends up at least passable. incredibly heavy sleeper, but only if she feels safe. 

Night owl, don’t touch in the morning unless you’re offering her breakfast or are ready for a storm of french cursing. 

Needs to physically exert herself at least twice a week or she’ll go slightly insane. That can be boxing, jogging or fucking rowing for all she cares. Just let her move, she’ll feel like a caged animal otherwise. Doesn’t give a flying fuck about body shape and the like, not unless it’s hindering her in said activities

Very, very competitive about these things. It’s a matter of pride to her and she hates losing in anything sports and it can make her a terrible team player. Not a problem if it’s something she’s just picked up, but her ambition to be good at physical things is very high. 

Very clear at communicating her wants and needs and has no understanding as to why people won’t talk their problems through. Being vague feels like a waste of time to her. 

Will forever and always keep her locs and last name, no matter what. It’s the last reminder of her birth parents.

Has terrible dissociative episodes that leave her sitting in places, eyes wide and unseeing. Best course of action is to have somebody hold her and coax her through it. They only get this bad when off mission, she represses most things on them

hobby ornithologist. has a massive book collection and actually enjoys going on searching trips in the middle of nowhere

absolute techno fiend and though she rarely goes to the clubs anymore (she’s lost contact with most of her friends from back in the day), she keeps up with the scene. There isn’t a singular place in Paris that she hasn’t been in though.

spends off shore time in a small village in Côte d’Azur directly by the sea or going traveling

and the long rundown is whatever the fuck all this is I’m sorry :’):

She’s the daughter of a senegalese immigrant and a working class mother. lost them age 12 to an accident and went through various foster cares as a result. She subconsciously internalized the idea that she’d die young and never even imagined a future because of that (with a few exceptions).

She now keeps steady contact with her last ‘family’, an elderly couple that had two grown children already when they took her aged 16. They never really got on in her youth, but they were amicable enough that they count as Juliette’s idea of ‘family’. She wrote them like once a year, but made an effort to reconnect in her 30s. They’re on good terms now.

got into a lot of trouble when younger, was an absolute techno fiend and spent most of her nights haunting through parisian clubs. She’s damn lucky she never landed in juvie, and it’s part of how/why she learned to be very sneaky. It got her in hot water with her teachers and caused her foster parents a lot of grief (at least the ones that cared). She still keeps up with the scene but has fallen out with most of her friends from back then. Was absolute shit at school, except sports and got into a lot of fights. Had so much anger inside her, which, combined with her difficulty to connect with her peers, would’ve made her a prime target for bullies, but that stopped pretty fast after the fourth nose she broke. she doesn’t remember most of her youth tbh

has problems with making connections with people, something that her clubbing sorta took care of when younger. She tends to look at people like she’s dissecting them and many get quite uncomfortable with it. Doesn’t care who you are, she’ll be completely honest and plainly tell you what she’s thinking, at least when you’re asking her. Communication has never been a problem for her, she doesn’t have the mind for being dishonest or vague. Will simply tell a person if she doesn’t feel comfortable with talking about things though. Calls people out on bullshit, her anger can override a lot of her anxiousness/awkwardness, something she makes use of. Her honesty has put quite a few people off, it’s less a thing of morality than her being socially inept. 

Has gone through enough shit that intimidating her is near impossible, but getting her flustered is very, very easy, though people don’t always notice. Her looking embarrassed translates to her staring into your soul and because she keeps quiet if she doesn’t know how to handle a situation, it gets interpreted as her being slightly unnerving and observing a situation with cold calculation. (If you know what to look for though you’ll see that a good 73 percent of the time she simply doesn’t know how to respond. It can be incredibly hilarious, ngl)

She’s a lot better nowadays, much more comfortable with expressing her emotions and actually learning how to deal with her anxiousness. But social interactions could be an absolute hoot with her, I’ll tell u that. Doesn’t help that she’s terribly paranoid/distrustful, something that’s only gotten worse with her time in the military.      

Joined very young, aged 19, for money and housing reasons, thinking she’d figure out what to do afterwards with the money she’d earn. She didn't want to stay with her foster parents anymore, very conscious and guilty of the trouble she's caused and the constant feeling of disconnect and ‘not right’ got to be too much for her. The military seemed like the next best idea. The few friends she had at that time thought she’d lost her mind and tried to convince her that it's a shite idea, but she'd already gotten her test results back at that point and was offered a plan. She tried keeping in contact during her starting time, but as her joining in on the normal activities would most definitely get her thrown out the instant a health evaluation came through, she didn’t really have much to talk about with them anymore. She later fell completely off the face of the earth when she became a solo operator.

Absolutely no sense of self preservation, terribly reckless when it comes to only herself. Gets very protective of her teammates in fears of losing another person, even if they aren’t ‘close’ in that sense. When on mission, she is likely to try and endanger herself before anyone else gets the chance to do so. Works in acts of service because it’s one of the few ways she feels like she can connect with others. She’s much more comfortable working solo though. Has, as one would expect, an incredibly fucked sense of morality by now. Something something ‘I’ll finish the mission no matter what, protect my own, don’t care if I die anyway, at least I’m good at this’

Found herself a lot when she met her old partner, even before they started to become a thing. They were also military and an incredibly calm fellow, funnily enough helping her work through her more extreme emotions she was so much more prone to back then. They encouraged her to go out together, meet up with people, letting others get closer again. She kinda learned how to be a bit more comfortably social tbh. The both of them went on a few trips together, it’s where she started picking up the habit of birdwatching (it also works as a reminder of all the places they’ve been) and they taught her surfing in Côte d’Azur, both kite and normal. Juliette started imagining a life with them there, maybe opening a small surfing school or something after they were both done with the military. Her problems didn’t go away, but she at least felt like she was living and figuring herself out during that time, trying out new things every chance she got, a habit she keeps up even today. They stepped on a landmine in front of her. It’s where Juliette got the big scar on her back from. 

She got sent off duty to recover for a few months and next to the year after her parents death, she'll count it as the most gut wrenching and haunting time of her life, partly because she actually remembers these weeks instead of the haze that was her youth. She got it into her head that she’s destined to be alone then. Had a terrible depressive episode but returned to the military anyway. It felt like the only place for her at that point and they happily took her back, with her now truly and completely getting lost in her work. She swore off drugs after she had a terrible trip involving hallucinations of her old lover.

Juliette felt bound to the military then, making it her purpose and yes, it’s just as fucked up as you think it is. It’s the one thing she consistently excels at and she knows how good she is and she only got more terrifying after the loss, her becoming a lot more calm in the wake of her thinking that that’s truly her end all now. Very aware of the reputation she's managed to amass and has put quite a few people through the wringer on the matts when they tried to fuck with her. Only made her less approachable to others and a lot of people think she’s a hard ass. Very lonely creature but was for the most part too despondent to care about it, her anger simmering down to be replaced with apathy. Sparring was one of the few places you could see her actually talk shit and emote. 

She got very used and comfortable to her loneliness, spending most of her offshore time on little bird watching trips and visiting clubs again (music will always be one of the few places she can truly lose herself and just shut her brain off) and trying out new food, mostly as a remembrance of their old lover. She still likes surfing and has one or two mates she meets up with, but she had to pick and choose her days when she could manage it emotionally. After two years, she stopped crying and a part was her finally accepting the loss, another was her being too tired to stay so sad about it. It’s a terrifying day, looking back, but she’s well and over their death by now. She made it a point of only hooking up with people that she had no connection with after that.

Most of it is spent waiting for the next mission though, even if she comes back with weird, small hobbies that let her kill the time. (At some point during that time, she started having dissociative episodes when she was emotionally overwhelmed, but as she’s still functional during those, they pose no ‘actual’ problem in the face of her missions.)

But yeah, the whole thing mellowed her out substantially, but it makes the resurfacing of her anger that much more unsettling. She’s more socially apt now, or at least knows how to pretend to be a lot better, but she’s gotten very comfortable with the ‘everything’. She stopped planning for the future by then and goes into every mission expecting the worst.

[fabbyf1]

i am so excited i made it back to my laptop while we were still doing favorite parts of kate's fics. my kindle highlights have never been more prepared for this moment.

long live: this one just hits different for me. but I adore the scene where they're FINALLY talking about their feelings and Max mentions that he loves how Charles has always been so easy and generous with his affection and charles tells him he has always loved how unashamed he was to be sweet to him in public and Max just drops the "That's because I've been totally gone for you my whole goddamn life, schatje." God sometimes I read that and have to put my phone down for a few minutes because it WRECKS me. also the scene where Charles comes back and smells like George and Max just can't take it and takes all of his clothes and puts them on Charles... how fucking SWEET.

Breathe You In (Like a Vapor): the entire time they are separated and FaceTiming because they just can't be apart?? Like I love how they are just sharing their whole day and Max is drunk so he loses his filter and just keeps telling him he misses him and wants to never let him go and then Charles just LEAVES FAMILY VACATION and Max is so excited to see him. (Also when Charles mom just interrupts their FaceTime and she's like yeah you are so obvious. quit hogging him)

I'll Be Right Beside You: the ring. the whole ring situation BREAKS me. The IDEA that Max was wearing the ring under his shirt but wanted to wear it and then even though he doesn't know he just looks at Charles and says 'Can I wear it like a ring?' and just pUTS IT ON?!!!!!! I swear. I think about that bit every single day.

Warming Verse: When Max puts Charles in his shirt and sends him on his way and Charles is so very uncool about it. It brings him so much comfort and I just can imagine him going home and sleeping in that shirt because it smells like Max. In my head, it's not the last time (which we know because of the later parts) that Max sends Charles out around/on the grid in his clothes. Like just imagine Charles showing up in the gin & tonic t-shirt to an F1 function...

Viva la Miami: Charles is coming in and going against all of Max's expectations and fucking him which is so different from how I normally imagine Charles but then towards the end he's like 'Will you fuck me later?' I just love unapologetic Charles and you write him SO well. So unashamed to ask for everything he wants at any time.

It's Our Paradise (And It's Our War Zone): honestly this whole fic just makes me feel some type of way... but when Charles starts begging and Max will not give in because consent is important bestie and so is making sure everyone is clean but he can't help telling Charles he is making him want to risk it all... so real of him really.

Lestappen + Guest: I mentioned this to you the other day but I stand by it... the way they are so soft and in tune with one another even when someone joins them absolutely wrecks me. They're shameless and I love that they are so confident in who they are and their relationship that they can fuck half the grid and allow other people to learn things about themselves. soulmate fuckboy masterminds. Also it's so fun to see your characterization of the rest of the grid! I love your Charles and your Max and you nail them every single time but bringing in Carlos and Oscar and the brief Logan cameo... It's so incredible how you capture perfect pieces of their personality and sprinkle them in so effortlessly. It's like two surprises every time I click on a fic.

TLDR; I read 300 books last year and since April the only thing I can sit down in one sitting and read are your fics. All of these posts have inspired me to re-read all of your fics in order so I am off to do so. You are incredible, bestie. Thanks for sharing your art with us all 💗

oh. my. fucking. god.

BESTIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am absolutely SOBBING IN THE CLUB RN. Holy fucking shit. I am absolutely...? speechless. I can't believe you went to all this trouble to write out SO MUCH about every single fic. I am seriously so stunned right now that I can't come up with the right words.

I love you, I always look forward to hearing from you, and I'm so fucking glad that you're in my life! Thank you so much for telling me all these wonderful things about my fics 😭😭😭 FUCK

God, the long live part about Charles smelling like George... FUCK. IT FUCKED ME UP SO MUCH. Other than Beside You, which doesn't count because they were established in that, that was the first time I ever really wrote clothes sharing like that, and I was hesitant about it because it's hit or miss with people. But I decided FUCK IT because it's so important and special to me. AND I'M SO GLAD I DID, BECAUSE SO MANY OF YOU ENJOY THAT TOO. I love learning what you guys like and realizing how much we have in common 😭😭😭😭😭😭

GODDDDDD THE RING SITUATION IN BESIDE YOU. Fuck. The ring thing was so important throughout the whole fic, even from the very get-go in the first few mins that Max woke up and was starting to panic and was waiting for the doctor... he found himself staring at the ring on Charles' finger 😭😭😭😭😭😭 it's like, he knew, even though he didn't know. Something in him knew that was special to him and important to him, and looking at it calmed him down, even though he had NO IDEA why and didn't realize it was doing that. And when Charles gets Max's ring back and just loses it because he somehow forgot about it, because it was the furthest thing for his mind because he was so worried about his baby and just. making him better. and then he sees it, and it all hits him how close he was to losing him. FUCKKKKK. that fic really fucked me up, man. it hurt writing it, it hurts thinking about it. but it hurts so good. I'm so fucking proud of that fic.

AHHHHH I LOVE EVERY SINGLE POINT YOU MADE HERE BESTIE. You really get me and get my writing and that is so fucking earth-shattering to me. Thank you a million times over.

[georgieluz]

Thnk u!!! Spamming u with more f1 pacific au becoz im absolutely obsessed for indycar or nascar eddie being dragged to the ‘pinnacle of motorsports’ and desperately pining for his teammate across the world trying to win the championship, ft disco music, sleazy clubs, and 80s fashion. But yeah its just an excuse for andy haldane in tight black fireproofs and to design a bunch of cars and suits. Ill drag up some sledge and snafu stuff later to post becoz u cant beat a toxic rivalry between up and comers

do you have any more designs for the different cars and teams? i'd love to see more if you do!

ahhhhh please i'm yearning for this content so bad rn!! just picturing eddie turning up in double denim to watch a gp, just to check it out y'know, he's still denying that he's gonna join and he's adamant that he's only there to support his boyfriend, and then andy (in his black fireproofs ofc) spotting him in the paddock as he's preparing for the race and the silent look of "told you i'd talk you around in the end"

yes please give us toxic rivals sledgefu!! in my au snafu isn't a rookie so they have a slightly different dynamic bc he doesn't really consider sledge a Real rival to him (at first at least) even though they still have that teammate competitiveness, it's more about eugene having to deal with snafu's bullshit bc of losing his seat and them both being in a terrible car etc bUT I LOVE THE IDEA OF THEM BOTH BEING ROOKIES AND HAVING THAT PROPER UP AND COMERS RIVALRY THAT GETS REALLY FIERY! I AM EAGERLY AWAITING

also i'm joining you in being absolutely obsessed with indycar/nascar eddie begrudgingly getting more and more involved in f1 shit and slowly realising he's gonna have to adapt to this world bc he knows deep down he's gonna uproot his whole life for andrew haldane and i've just been thinking about him going to the monaco gp and being amongst all that excess of wealth and luxury and just how different things are between the two sports. this eddie has completely taken over my brain at this point

[liz-allyn]

madam ??!?!? Madam !???!? What …… I absolutely what ?!?????im spluttering on text ?!!?! What I don’t what to say I really don’t I what did you eat while writing this chapter what ? I want to know and eat that so I can get some sanity and peace back !!?!? I tell you as soon as we came to her kissing Peter part I had switch off of laptop physically remove myself from my room pace back and forth scream curse out all of the shit in my life pull my hair out and come back to come back to read the rest because I was so angry so angry oh I don’t think I’ve ever been so frustrated ever when I’ve read something the only thing that comes close when I had to read the trashy book ugly love for my book club I’m angry frustrated I’m also horny what is this ??!? Why have you done this to me you’re my mortal enemy now (I love you so so so so much you own my soul) I’m angry at honey I have no words to describe the absolute lethal rage I feel towards John if I could materialise into the story Im gonna grab his head of perfectly coiffed hair and bang his head into my trashy university coffee table with mysterious stains and exposed wood edges so he loses both his eyes and then pull out his teeth with my pliers (yes I might be psychotic I realise don’t worry I’m in therapy) and then I’m gonna shake sense into honey because like girl !??! WHAT THE ABOSolute SHIT DO YOU THINK YOURE DOING !?!? And yes I told you I wanted them to fuck but not like this (insert high pitch whiny noise here ) it’s so hot !?!? But like I also wanna cry so bad she really thinks she can outsmart Peter ? Really really does she …..sputters again did she hit her head when she was with John when he went to far ? Like absolutely what ?!? Also confusingly he says he has to be thorough but he never bothered to check about personal documents marriage certificate maybe ???and hey johns a corrupted cop throw back to the bathtub scene when he rescued her and she said her boyfriend is a cop was that an Easter egg ??? Was it ? And then Pete saying you and I both know you don’t have a boyfriend ? Hmm I smell something and It’s FISH 🐠 IM ONTO YOU LIZ MADAM anyway I want honey to be a bad fucking Bitch I realise that will take some time but damn if aren’t waiting for her to blow a hole between johns eyes and to blow Peter as well lol 😝 also Pete baby you absolute fucking feral man you’re pretty toxic yourself don’t say that she’s not a prisoner ok also I can’t wait when he finds bruises are ala John he’s gonna suck his fucking soul out

you’re brilliant as always also I have to ask you a really important question will this story have a happy ending ?

Spoilers for chapter 8-9

I feel you so much rn. I love reading this reaction. I’m excited for the future, that’s all I have to say.

And

They will be fucking working through trauma

Things will get even more complicated stressful intense thrilling frustrating horny

I always write a happy ending

[abyssal-endling]

stupid kind of vent that i feel is relevant

i kind of hate being an older student in college but especially rn cause my main friend group has like, no concept of money or being oppressed for being gay. like they make jokes about "haha look out *pokes other friend* UH OH YOU'RE GAY" when I mention conversion therapy or gay panic laws. like . they have no concept of parents hating their kids for being gay so they don't understand why another group isnt out to their parents or that they can't just call their parents for help. a graduated friend makes 40k a year and they were like OMG thats a lot! and i had to explain that thats like, just above the poverty line in most states. that thats "making just enough to not get government help but one fuck up means you lose everything". that my brother making 84k is paycheck to paycheck with the ability to get maybe some extra snacks but he if he has an emergency he's probably absolutely fucked so every extra penny has to be squirreled away just in case. that i have to scramble every semester to pay the school cause i don't have anything to fall back on, or that i have no insurance for a while so i pay out of pocket for meds and i can't work but don't qualify for disability. its like ripping my fucking teeth out every day cause they want to do a group cosplay but want me to help make shit for free cause they don't understand that a specific task is like 2+ hours to complete, or are like "oh just buy this costume instead" and im like. I cannot fucking drop 50$ on this because I NEED TO BUY MY FUCKING MEDS. but they don't have those risks!!! they can go to disney for the holidays every year or go on vacation twice a year and buy a few 500$ items a few times a year.

or the constant "asthma's so stupid like just breathe" and knowing they're making fun of the fact that asthma is literally like "@ my lungs you had one job" but they don't HAVE asthma or breathing issues so i have to explain that im not fucking laughing when im watching my skin turn blue because i can't breathe and i have to desperately get as much albuterol in my lungs before i lose consciousness or i will literally die. i wanna fucking scream each week. "im tired because i chose not to eat and went to bed at 4am when i have an 8am cause i dont like when people tell me what to do so i'm going to be pissy with you" okay thats your own fucking fault then why are you getting mad at me for that. hits my head against the bricks literally fucking think. like shit im exhausted cause im a triple major and im DEI chair and im president of 3 clubs but i know that thats my fault so i set hours of "dont talk to me i need me time" and actually use my therapy hours for taking care of myself instead of fucking around and "gaslighting my therapist into thinking im okay and dropping everything on her in the last five minutes of my session"

they all think i should have shit handled financially and that i should be able to handle being vented to 24/7 because im older than them but the reality is NOT that. im not an elder queer im 26 and i want to die but most of all i want to NOT want to die. i want to enjoy my time at school!!!

tldr is that i try to surround myself with people who dont make me want to rip my eyes out but it doesnt work so im making more therapy appointments

[mchiti]

How does every former star Ajax player have some form of drama at their next/following club😭 de Ligt at Juventus and now Bayern, hakim at Chelsea, Frenkie at Barca, Mazraoui at Bayern, van de beek at United…. I don’t think it’s their fault but it’s something I noticed

yeah sis :( okay I appreciate de Ligt and it's very good he left juve so I can say something nice without letting my animosity take the best of me jfhdgsa no but he's a great player and and the ajax wonderkid academy kid etc etc ya know. A bit sad he's struggling under tuchel (another down on tuchel's death note list) but I think he scored recently, he's still young tbh he will pull through. I don't see any particular issue with Frenkie too? apart from his injury!! He's had the best career of them all no? and Nous look I love him, I support him a lot and I kinda detest he's being kept on the bench but I'm also a bit more hopeful for him, because he's in a place where he has all the time of the world to change road if he's not into bayern anymore. He gets his chances there as well, from what I see germans like him too. He left ajax before hakim and younger so you know...he has time. Yeah the 2 people I feel very bad out of THAT generation of ajax wonders are hakim & donny. cause honestly look at chelsea now hakim was absolutely screwed by a club that was already losing pieces 3 years ago, too many changes, too much spending. and donny my brother :( He never fit manchester united and I wish he went to serie a instead tbh.

It happens, that team was a dream because they were collectively strong, they had chemistry, it was just magic. It's something that happens once in a while. And they beat asses in ucl as well so no one can bring "oh it's just eredivisie" as an excuse. All of them are great players but football is not always just isn't it. I think those who went to epl had it worse - too much pressure and too much shit I personally don't like at all. Praying for my man donny rn tho, he's having it worst rn. Would love to see him in serie A in the future.

[mnstrfcker]

I can’t believe I never thought of this before

Ye’yin as a yautja?!?! SCREAMING

THE BOYS?!?!?! AS HUMANS?!?! BYE IM IN LOVE

[dangerous-disposition]

VESSEL YOU CAN'T JUST FOLLOW VORE WITH A PIANO BALLAD LIKE THIS I'M FUCKING CRYING IMMEDIATELY IN THE CLUB RN

WAIT WHAT THE FUCK VESSEL WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING THIS IS FULLY HIP HOP/R&B

I literally fucking sat STRAIGHT UP at that drop, the way that trap beat came in holy shit HOLY SHIT VESSEL FUCK YOU ABSOLUTE GODDAMN GENIUS

And that WHISPER?!

And the DJENT?! this fucking man's mind.... Like..... GOD THE HARSHES INTO THE ANGELIC VOCALS I AM LOSING MY GODDAMN MIND

Us multi-genre loving hoes are EATING SO WELL with this one song oh my god

OKAY ASCENSIONISM IS THE BEST SLEEP TOKEN SONG EVER SO FAR

Literally? AOTY

OKAY I PRACTICED MY GERMAN.

It's TAKE ME BACK TO EDEN TIME

[horce-divorce]

Someone on Reddit was lamenting that they had previously had their HRT covered by insurance, but because they're in Florida, because of the recent ban taking effect, now they're paying out of pocket, and they were worried about this, understandably

Another trans person commented and was like "yeah I've never had my hormones covered in NY, welcome to the club I guess?"

And like listen, I get that, I GET IT. I do. It's kinda like how I never had the option to transition until I was 30 and now there's all these kids got to start at 15, there is definitely a sense of mourning and envy that comes with someone having something you never had the chance to even try. It hurts.

And that hurt is 100% on You, my friend. That is YOUR Problem To Deal With, it's not your job to project your jealousy and nasty feelings onto other people???? Strangers, no less???

Like if you see other trans people worrying about their situation and saying "things changed, the future is uncertain, and idk what to do now," and your knee jerk reaction is to say some shit like 'yeah? And? Welcome to the fucking club?' I really suggest you stop and ask yourself if maybe it's time to stop posting!!!!!!! Seriously what the fuck is the point of a comment like this. Log off and watch fricking TV or something if it's making you that pissed off JUST to hear other people's experiences. It's not "easy" for anyone to be trans right now just because it's SLIGHTLY EASIER for SOME people. Absolutely nobody in the trans community needs the "yeah tough shit life is pain suck it buttercup" talk????

And bc apparently this needs to be said, my heart goes out to all my trans siblings down in Florida right now. That's a horrible place to be, you have enough political and environmental stressors there without losing access to your stuff, and as someone who's access could also disappear at any time, I deeply sympathize. It must be unbearable to have finally had access to something so important only to have it snatched so callously away. I'm so sorry we are still having this fight.

'Welcome to the club, it sucks to be trans forever, what did you expect 🙄' like how is that comment even remotely helpful or necessary? To anyone, including yourself? What do you get out of posting shit like that? What do you get out of vocally dismissing other people's pain and fear? Does that help your mental state, does it make it easier and more euphoric for you to be trans, to take other trans ppl down a peg, remind them that we're supposed to be suffering and groveling for every scrap???

Ok and like having typed all of this. I have empathy for that commenter, too. They are clearly hurting in some other way, and surely didn't think it thru that much. They are just bitter and grumpy and being shown post after post to interact with, and it's easy to let your guard down and make a flippant comment when you're not thinking and just scrolling.

What I'm saying is, like, I too have made flippant and rude comments like this in passing, and I've hurt people doing it. I had to stop and ask myself if I really liked who I was when I was using the internet that way, and make a better system of recognizing when I'm falling into that space- getting increasingly grumpy about every post, wanting to fight with people, feeling like a total curmudgeon! And when I notice I'm doing that, I have found that means that I personally need to log off and touch some fucking grass. Because the crotchety disposition is a symptom of what being online is doing to my mental state, and **I** am responsible for that. Not whoever made the comment that ticked me off.

Anyway I understand why people make comments like this, I do, and it's worth pointing out that websites WANT us to make comments like that, they encourage us to do it despite our better judgement. I think it's probably doubly hard for trans folks rn because if we try to engage with our communities at all, we will inevitably be shown content about transphobia. It's hard to scroll thru any trans spaces rn without finding some level of doom and gloom and when you're being inundated with that constantly, it's hard to shake.

But some loving and gentle advice from someone who's been online a lot, for a long time? If using social media isn't serving you, if it's making you cranky and combative and depressed, if you find yourself making comments like this even though that's not really you... Respectfully? YOU need to take the reigns and Log The Fuck Off for a bit. Give yourself a time out. Go do something YOU ACTUALLY LIKE TO DO. You can not convince me that scrolling reddit is the pinnacle of hobbies and entertainment for you. Find something real.

And like, I'm also NOT saying that when you feel that curmudgeonly way, you don't deserve to vent. You do! You absolutely need to, don't bottle that shit up. We are ALL feeling it to some degree. But also, read the fricking room? Don't just go dump it on some random poor fuck who has no clue what your damage is??

It doesn't mean you need to eschew the internet altogether, FYI. It doesn't even mean you need to set rules or a bedtime tech routine! It doesn't mean you need to throw your cellphone in the ocean and become a hermit in the woods like nature intended. It doesnt mean Technology Is Bad. It doesn't mean Never Make A Comment Or Talk To Anyone.

It JUST means, like, look:

We know for a fact that social media can and does manipulate our emotions on purpose.

When you're engaging w people online, are you behaving in a way that's serving you, or in a way that's serving the algorithm?

Put your oxygen mask on. Preferably before making shithead comments.

You might also find it helpful to ask yourself some questions:

- does this need to be said?

- does this need to be said by me?

- does this need to be said, by me, right now?

Food for thought!!!!

[eurydicees]

theatre club au time!!! i’m back with the romeo and juliet edition of “eurydicees just write the fucking fic instead of daydreaming about it” 

theatre club au hcs are also here: part one and part two!! 

disclaimer: there was absolutely no editing nor proofreading here, i’m watching romeo + juliet and haven’t read the real script in years, and i really don’t know what i’m talking about

so. for the fall show, one year, they decide to do romeo and juliet, because obviously, you know? 

renge directs, kyoya is her stage manager

hikaru is romeo, haruhi is juliet; tamaki is mercutio, kaoru is benvolio; idk about the rest of the cast, let’s pretend they don’t matter for the sake of this list (filing the rest of the cast list under: problems for when i actually write this stupid fic) 

honey is on lighting, mori is on set and stage combat, mei is on props and costumes, kasanoda is on sound 

so in the ouran theatre club, there’s not really a big rivalry between techies and actors because there’s only a few of them, so they all switch between roles so often (ex. kaoru is 50% actor and 50% costumes; tamaki is 50% actor, 50% director) 

HOWEVER. then, right before the fall production of r&j, hikaru says some dumbass comment about actors having more work to do than techies, and being more important, etc. etc. some bullshit like that

and this causes a HUGE rift in between the techies and the actors for this show specifically— they’re all mad at each other bc of this comment; kaoru is pissed at his brother, kyoya thinks that tamaki endorsed said comment, hikaru isn’t sure why he said it in the first place, haruhi thinks this is all ridiculous but kaoru is being an asshole about it and so they’re mad at him; etc. etc. 

so this show is uh. not coming together very well, because no half wants to work with the other half, and none of them are talking to each other 

then. THEN. THEN. THEN. 

tamaki and kyoya fall in love. 

they start a secret affair together, telling no one, because they know that everyone in the club is mad at everyone else, and saying that they’re dating is just gonna add fuel to the fire, especially bc it’s an actor/sm relationship, which is a bit weird (it’s high school, though, so whatever. once this all blows over, they’ll be a #powercouple) 

things come to a head during one rehearsal, where they’re doing mercutio’s death scene 

so tamaki is acting. he’s going all out. like. he’s giving this speech as if it’s the last performance he’ll ever give. it’s brilliant. beautiful. stan. 

and when he’s done, mei makes some comment about it “needing lights to make it look any good,” as if he can’t make it good on his own, and tamaki is so hurt by this. like. so hurt. 

renge calls for the end of rehearsal, bc hikaru is abt to like. go to war in defense of tamaki’s acting, and kaoru is just mad at hikaru, so he’s also ready to argue (bc they’re at a good enough place in their relationship to do that!!!) 

kyoya, in an attempt to cheer him up, brings tamaki out for dinner, but they have to be discreet, so they go to some commoner place. this is where all the pining Hits. then they finally, finally, actually start dating. 

as we go through the rehearsal and production meeting process, the scenes that they rehearse are interspersed with fluffy scenes of tamakyo falling in love, idk how all that would get worked in right, but it would make it in there because fuck it, yk? 

the rivalry was kind of simmering for a while, but then they doing their stop and go rehearsal, which is always an rip, but here it’s the first time in a hot sec that the entire production team and the actors are in the same room 

the actors keep goofing off and moving around, so honey can’t get things quite where he needs them; the actors are talking loudly, so kasanoda is fucked (but too shy to say something abt it, until mori tells honey, who tells renge, who stands up for them all)

and a (verbal) fight breaks out— kyoya, the eversuffering sm is losing his mind over here. 

he is done with this shit 

so he calls hold, and renge gives a speech about cooperation, and then everyone kind of shuts down. no on is having fun with being in theatre anymore. kasanoda is two insults away from quitting. mei is two broken seams away from physically fighting someone. 

things are not going well 

after rehearsal, tamaki and kyoya have their standing secret date night at some commoner’s place, idk where yet, we’ll figure that out when this actually gets written as a fic, and then. that’s when they get caught. 

it’s renge who finds them— and she’s angry. she goes on this whole rant about professionalism. the stage manager cannot be dating an actor. it’s a conflict of interest. it’s unprofessional. it’s scandalous. she will not have it in her theatre. 

then tamaki points out. that she is here on a date with haruhi. 

fuckin’ hypocrite. 

the four of them have a cute double date bc fuck it. i make the rules now. and they realize that this is bullshit and they’re never going to pull together a show if they keep on arguing like this

but they don’t really know how to fix it???? 

it eventually kind resolves itself when renge, who cannot keep a secret for the life of her, accidentally reveals that she and haruhi are dating— they’re in the dressing room, and renge just kisses them, not realizing that kaoru and mei are arguing over kaoru’s costume in there

everyone is very upset for a moment, until they crack because kaoru and mei are both kinda hopeless romantics, and a star-crossed love is exactly what they needed to make the show come together

meanwhile, tamaki and hikaru are practicing mercutio’s queen mab monologue (for the #drama of the moment), and kyoya is taking notes or w/e, and when they pause, hikaru asks abt tamaki’s inspiration for his acting and what feelings he’s drawing on 

and tamaki is just like *looks at kyoya* “i have my own love” 

i’m gonna be honest i super worked myself into a hole here and i have absolutely no idea how to end this

unlike shakespeare, i cannot kill off all the characters in order to have a resolution to my work 

taking suggestions for an ending i guess. anything would be better than whatever this mess is rn

[redhawtriot]

Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I am posting at not my normal time at ALL, but I really wanted to get this chapter out so I can work on my favorite chapter so far lol (month five is boutta be LIT) if the tags aren’t working i’ll fix them tomorrow they are acting weird rn. 

Thx, for the patience. Love y'all

extra chapter warning: sexual harassment, nsfw..ish

HnM 💕

Month 1, Month 2, Month 4

--MONTH 3--

It was a Friday night about two months ago when Katsuki Bakugou had found himself on the second floor of Club 52—or “the booty room”—as it’s so brusquely known.

But he sure as hell didn’t fucking belong here-- Surrounded by drunken idiots when he had to stay alert and keep his mind sharp-- groped on by inebriated/drugged up women who he would simply growl at in return-- drenched in the germy sweat of the fucking extras around him when he could be at home in his clean bed thinking about how to improve himself tomorrow.

Honestly. How in the flying fuck did he let those three walking hairstyles talk him into coming to this shit show?

The driving beat of the music dancing within his chest was his only saving grace, its constant booming throwing him into a state of familiar comfort as he watched the colorful lights burst around him. He had to admit… they were nice…

No!

Fuck that! He still didn’t belong here, dammit! His roommates, Dumb, Dumber and Dumbest, had all three nagged, and nagged, and nagged him to come here the entire week.

At their begging, Bakugou quite frankly wished that he had lost even more of his hearing than he already had from his quirk. Maybe he could find one of his old drumsticks and jam it into his head—or up those idiots’ asses, “Ahh! I’LL GO! JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” It was the only way to keep him from losing his job as a hero and committing a triple homicide. 

So yeah, that’s how he ended up in the booty room—and he wasn’t gonna gratify those damn idiots for even a second by enjoying just an ounce of the hellscape.  

“You’re not drinking, huh?”

A sudden inquiry snapped the man out of his thoughts, and he found himself whipping his head around to face the feminine voice that had cut through the loud room. As soon as his eyes encountered yours, Bakugou felt his jaw drop slightly at the sight.

But then he quickly noticed the way that your eyes flickered down to his mouth, and the mocking way that your lips began curving up into a smirk at his display. He wanted to kiss knock that smug look clean off your pretty face. He immediately clenched his jaw back shut and hardened his traitor of an expression so that no more slip-ups could be had.

The two of you sized each other up for a moment before you slickly glanced over your shoulder with a nod, “So I am guessing those belong to you, then?” you motioned toward Mayonnaise, Ketchup and Mustard—all three of Bakugou’s roommate idiots making a theatrical, display in the middle of the dance floor.

Kirishima—who had long taken his shirt off by this point-- noticed Bakugou’s disapproving gaze and attempted a wave back, only to lean into a drunken stumble.

Bakugou clicked his tongue, snapping his regard from the (flat out embarrassing) show “I’m not anyone’s damn babysitter. They’re grown men. They can fucking handle themselves!”

“Good… I’d like to have you to myself for a while,” you turned to the bar-tending counter and beckoned for two drinks.

Bakugou eyed how the man behind the counter ingested you. He was a lion looking for his prey’s weakness and you didn’t even seem to notice—or care. He glared at the man, subconsciously taking a step toward you to speak as the bartender handed you your drink, “For what?” Bakugou asked you flatly. He didn’t even know why the hell he was entertaining this.

You simply shrugged, throwing your eyes up as innocently as you could with the contrarily wicked smirk that befell your face, “To… talk.”

“Yeah right. You’ve got some freak look in your eye. You want something else.”

“Well, hell yeah! Have you seen yourself?” you laughed and Bakugou couldn’t tell whether the stutter in his chest was from your utter bluntness, or from the melody of your happiness, “Anyway, I wont waste your time—or mine. Come find me if you want to…” you trailed off as you handed him the second drink in your hands. You had to bite your lip from smiling too hard, “…Talk. Ba-Bye~.”

As soon as you were the short ear distance away and faded into the dense crowd, the bartender gave a low whistle, “She was fucking fit as hell. God, the things I would do to her!” Bakugou felt his face twitch suddenly as the man continued his rant, “She’d never be able to walk that pretty little walk ever again. Yo, let’s hope she’ll still be here by the time I get off!” he chuckled but Bakugou didn’t see any thing fucking funny about what the bastard said. He might live in what is effectively a hero’s version of a frat house, but still, he never understood “locker room talk.”

Bakugou angrily downed the entire drink in his tight grip in one long pull before slamming it back onto the counter forcefully. His red eyes burned holes through the bartender’s fearful ones—the cup breaking apart under his palm, “She won’t be. Keep your dirty eyes off her, you bastard,” Bakugou didn’t even allow the man an opportunity to rebuttal as he stormed away, his fiery glare set intently on one thing only—or one person only…

That night Bakugou watched intently as the ceiling above him teetered and danced for a moment—sinking into the deep feeling of numbness that his intoxicated mind had succumbed to after about his fourth drink. He wasn’t exactly used to this feeling—this caving in on himself and sense of absolute relaxation as he melted into his bed.

Sinking.

              ...Sinking.

Wait, was his bed really sinking? His eyebrows furrowed into a state of confusion before he heard a sigh coming from next to him. Things finally clicked into place in his slowed mind.

Oh yeah. That’s right…

He would never get used to having someone else in his bed, probably.

Bakugou turned to where you were imprinting yourself down onto his mattress. You laughed at his stern expression, extending your arm to caress the side of his face, “God, your face is s’ intense like that. It gives me chills,” your thumb danced across the permanent furrow of his eyebrow. There had to be a magnet underneath his skin somewhere right about there that kept the brows in a constant state of attraction.

He snapped his face away from you as the magnet’s strength intensified and twisted his expression even deeper into anger, “Heh?” Goddamn, you were a fucking difficult girl to read for as blunt as you were.

You march up to him in the club like you own the damn place and send him heart eyes and flirtatious body signals, just to stone cold walk away like he never even existed? You proclaim that you want to fuck him, yet made him dance with you for almost an hour before you lead him out?? You let him fuck you in thirty different directions, just to call him out for looking “intense?!!” His friends (if you could fucking call them that) always said that he had an ugly mug, the jealous bastards, but why would a girl he slept with--

“You’re jus’ beautiful is all,” you faintly slurred, instantly hushing any of his thoughts and softening his expression, “People tell me all the time ‘You’re a pretty girl! You should smile more, but why th’ hell should I go around smilin’ for people who don’ deserve it? If they don’ like my resting state, then—”

“Then they can fuck themselves.”

“Yeah,” you looked up at him with a lazy smile. To a sober mind there was no doubt that your expression was an obviously drunken happiness, but to Bakugou’s in that moment—he couldn’t help but think that maybe there was something deeper behind that smile. You giggled, “They can fuck themselves,” you agreed more heartedly-- leaning into Bakugou and rolling him onto his back before snaking your way on top of him. You planted a trail of wet kisses up his neck and finished by making a small bite on his jaw “And maybe you can fuck me,”

Your warm breath on his sensitive neckline made him shiver underneath his skin, but he prayed that you couldn’t feel it. He scoffed to cover the pathetic display, “Again?”

You laughed before planting even more smiling kisses all over him—pressing your body even further into his with each one, “and again. and again. and again…”

“Pervert.” Bakugou tried to grab you by your hips to keep you from grinding into him even further—or at least that was what he intended to do; however, instead he ended up using them to guide your rhythm in rubbing against him.

You laughed again as you sat up on top of him and pressed your hands to his chest—your hips far from slowing down or stopping, “Maybe so, but can y’ really blame me? I have this guy in bed with me who isn’t even tryin’ to make me smile, but I have been fucking cheesin’ it up all night with ‘em.”

Bakugou didn’t even try to fight the growing smile on his face. It really was damn corny and pathetic--whatever this was between the two of you. But it felt so… so fucking right to him.

Still, he was going to tease you-- otherwise he wouldn't be him, “Well, I have this girl in bed with me who won’t stop smiling and it’s really fucking starting to creep me the hell out,” he suddenly flipped you onto the bed and mounted himself on top of you before placing his own assault of kisses on your body. His face only reemerging to take in your stupid, corny, beautiful smile for a long second. 

You were absolutely stunning in every respect of the word.

Yet--

Two months later, the same face that now stood in front of him on the platform of the train station was far from smiling—honestly neither was he. He was pissed the hell off. You didn’t even recognize him until just now?? Was he really so fucking immemorable?

You backed away from the man who had just saved you from falling to the tracks. You took him in one final time as the two of you sized each other up, “I don’t even know what to start…”

Bakugou’s face contorted in such anger that it could have been mistaken for disgust, “How about you start by giving me some fucking answers!” he screamed, causing your heart to drop and your stomach to lurch. The two organs effectively were trying to switch places.

Oh fuck. He knew?

“T-to what…?” You trailed off, but you had a feeling what he was going to say next. He was gonna chew you out about the damn parasite growing in your uterus, but you had no idea how he could have known about that! He shouldn't know that!

Deku didn’t tell... He didn’t! ...Did he?? Your heart raced and assaulted your rib-cage with an armada of thrums.

“Why did you sneak out that morning, huh!?” as soon as the words flew out of his mouth, you paused—your mind not quite able to comprehend his grievance, “I was just some sex toy for you? That it??” When he finished yelling and glared at you with expectancy burning within his red irises, you found yourself tilting your head a bit in astonishment and confusion.

Your heart had dropped, but you couldn't tell if it was from relief or repugnance. 

That? That was the question he needed answers to?

In the grand scheme of the fuckery on hand, his damaged ego was literally not your problem. You crossed your arms as you stretched your neck toward him, “Because it was supposed to be a club hump and dump! So yeah! We were just sex toys! That was kinda the whole fucking point!” Note the fucking emphasis on ‘supposed to be’! Ugh!

A tinge of underlying hurt quickly flashed across the blond’s stern face. You gave a short, sharp sigh in exasperation as you laid your forehead in one of your palms, “Look, I am not exactly here to cater to your wounded pride. Sorry that you caught feelings for me, but I wasn’t exactly obligated to fix you breakfast that day,” the tired, emotional remarks flew out much faster than you could filter them, but you still felt a twinge of remorse as soon as they hit the air.

The man in front of your face look completely stunned as if you just slapped him across the cheek with your words. It actually seemed pretty unnatural on his expression—like a rare, endangered species-- something not many have seen. Soon enough, however, as the dust of your words fell his expression settled back into a more natural state of fury, “You’re fucking right,” he grunted before turning to exit up the stairs of the subway, “I’m not obligated to listen to this horseshit either.”

Oh fuck. What have you done?

You knew that you had laid it on pretty thick, but the emotions you felt were just so damn overwhelming, “Kacchan… I…!” Why couldn’t you have said something different? Nicer maybe?

Whether you liked it or not, your lives were now tied together and this was not a good first impression—or uh-- second impression technically-- whatever! “I promise you’re gonna want to hear the end of this.” you called to his retreating form.

Bakugou’s face shriveled even further, stretching its extent of maximum disgust. Hearing that name come out of your mouth left his stomach feeling ill, “I promise you, I don’t give a fuck”

You slapped your arms at your side as you finally halted in your attempt to get him to stop walking away. Fuck it. You were about to completely call his bluff because you definitely weren’t about to chase him. You were much too tired and emotional for this shit! You just wanted to get home and sleep these random-ass, foreign emotions away, “I’m pregnant.” you simply exclaimed.

Bakugou froze.

In that moment, it was as if the entire world around him had iced over as he replayed your words in his head over and over again. He couldn't have heard you right, “What?” 

The man felt every fiber of his being stiffen. So much so that he couldn’t even bring himself to turn around and face you. In your silence was his answer loud and clear, “How… how the fuck do I know it’s mine?” he murmured, still unable to turn towards you—he didn’t want you to see the raw emotion that his face probably held in that moment.  

You barely even heard him, but the weight of his words was heavy enough to slam down on your ears and cause a burning reaction from you “What?!”

Your shriek finally prompted him to whip himself around, and you almost wish that he didn’t. The mangled mess of feelings transcribed on his face left his cheeks flushed a furious shade of red as he shouted at you,  “You like one-night stands so much—how do you know it’s mine?” With a horrified expression, you glanced around you for a moment to the other people in the subway, who immediately adverted their gazes.

“Hell, You’ve been hanging around that bastard, Deku. How do I know it’s not his?” You looked back to Bakugou with a choked ‘Wow!’ that could be interpreted as “Are you fucking kidding me right fucking now??” These strangers were getting one hell of a show, too.

You stormed up to him to keep him from shouting your all of your dirty laundry into the air, “Deku and I aren’t—” You stopped yourself. Would any fucking thing you said to this man make a difference? He didn’t know you from fucking Adam-- or from fucking Adam. You groaned in annoyance, “Look! I know that it’s yours because you're the only idiot I have slept with in months! An idiot who doesn’t know how to use a goddamn condom apparently!” you half whispered to him as your spectators began eyeing you again. You flipped them off as Bakugou continued,

“I’m the idiot?! Well if you could ACTUALLY FUCKING REMEMBER that night then you would know that we did use condoms the first three times! They ran out and you told me to keep going,” He screamed—by this point you’d given up hope of containing your melodrama as he continued loudly, “What idiot says that unless they are on birth control or something?!”

You throw your face in your hands with a shriek of a sigh before looking back up to his furious face “Here’s the deal,” you decided to completely ignore his comment, becoming tired of this theatrical display of emotions spewing from him,  “I can’t spontaneously conjure up some proof that this-- this thing is yours but I assure you it fucking is. But hey!! If you don’t want to stick around, I am not the type of person to make you. I can deal with this myself,” his face fell a bit as you swiftly turned yourself around to make your exit, but you didn’t make it far before you felt a heavy hand grab you by the wrist.

“Let’s say it is mine...,” Bakugou offered flatly, “You don’t think I can handle it” his daring tone left your mind whirling. This wast a fucking wrestling match or even one of his villain attacks! He continued, “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m gonna let my kid grow up without me. Give me your fucking number,” He easily snatched your phone from your front pocket with a slight protest coming from you, but ultimately, you really were tired as hell and just wanted this day to be over with al-fucking-ready. You sighed as he put his number in your phone—your mind briefly wandering why you didn’t put a password on the damn thing.

In a short instant, he shoved your device back to you and promptly turned on a heel. Only acknowledging you once more to tell you to “Stay off of the fucking train tracks,” before he stiffly marched away. Good riddance. 

You couldn’t even blame the spectators anymore. This was a mess. This was a downright, melodramatic, teen drama on CW disaster. This was… this was your life now.

Fuck…

“Oooh... no smiles today, huh?”

About a week later you found yourself walking up the stairs to a modern mansion with stupid windows for walls. A true sign of pretentiousness and obvious lack of shame. This house was a display for all to see... kinda like your argument with that Bakugou last week. 

You shook this thought out of your mind and put your ‘work cap’ back on. You were on your way to get some test shots in for the week with your new hair cut that the agency had forced on you recently.

Instead of throwing her a “What’s there to smile for?” like you wanted to, you threw her a “This better?” and forced a small smile at the girl, Dina, who had traveled along with you to get her test shots done today as well. Usually for these kinds of things, you would be alone as you traveled to the photographer’s house, but it was always nice to have someone come with you so you weren’t complaining—well-- not about her company at least.

There truly was nothing to smile for recently. You were pregnant with a raging, quirkcist asshole’s child, said asshole won’t answer any of your damn texts or calls that aren’t directly related to the prenatal appointment that you two have later today, Deku hasn’t been able to hang out with you as much because of his work, and as trivial as this may seem, you looked in the mirror today to saw a completely different person.

You were quite used to your agency drastically changing your hair, but that, along side the obvious rounding of your face and the speckles of hormone induced facial topography growing on your skin, led you to a slight identity crisis. The girl in the reflection was a sloppy second to who you used to be and you hated it-- you hated sharing this body.

“Trouble in paradise with Deku, Y/N?” her tone had a hint of worry in it as she rung on the doorbell to the modern house. You could only give her a slight shrug as the bell sung out,

“I’m fine. Really.” you lied. 

“Hello, hello!” The photographer’s voice loudly blared out before the door could even fully open to reveal him. He gave you a shocked glance, “What a pretty lady—pretty ladies!” he corrected as he stepped aside and invited you in with the swing of his arm. You rolled your eyes as he turned his back to walk through the house. He looked like the textbook definition of a douchebag. 

Fuck not judging a book by it’s cover. If it walks like a duck. Talks like a duck. Then it’s probably a misogynistic asshole who only got into photography to get away with his sick urge to take photos of unfamiliar women.

“Okay ladies, I just want to preface by saying that you can feel comfortable around me, alright? I think of all my models as a family,” Dina stiffened into a board as he came over and rested his hand on her hip. She forced her lips into a fine line that could resemble a smile as he firmly patted her, “This shouldn’t take too long-- only about five to six hours, ‘kay?”

Your face scrunched up, but you just wanted to get this day over with so you could go to that stupid appointment and wouldn’t have to deal with “Cockugou” for another few weeks. Throughout the next few hours, the photographer actually wasn’t too bad. He was for sure creepy, but you noticed that he wasn’t so bold with you as he had been with Dina earlier. Of course there were little off hand comments like, “You are doing sexy.” instead of “you are doing great.” And he would refer to both you and Dina as “baby” is a husky, drawn out tone—like he was moaning, but besides that he was actually being pretty calm.

Until he wasn’t.

“Okay! Now take your tops and bra off,” both you and Dina paused as the camera flashed once more. As the two of you threw each other a wary glance the photographer spoke up again, “Trust me, I have a vision. You’re gonna love it!”

“I- I just don’t feel comfortable with that,” Dinah spoke up feebly. She looked to you for support, so you nodded before she returned her gaze to him, “Do you think… maybe we could do something else?”

The photographer sighed and threw his nose into pinched fingers as if you all had offended him, “Look honey, you’re not that photogenic. I am having to bust my ass off not to capture that cellulite on the back of your thighs, so when I tell you to do something, it’s for a reason.”

You glanced over to Dina with a horrified expression. You noticed that her hands were clenched at her sides and shook ever so slightly after she subconsciously rubbed the back of her thighs-- you also noticed a prominent thigh gap in between the two tiny appendages. You shot your stern glare back over to the photographer.

He sighed again—this time even harder than before, “Take five!” he frustratedly pulled out a box of cigarettes and stormed over to his patio outside—the glass door slamming shut behind him.

You walked over to Dinah and hesitantly found your hands drifting toward her. You were never really good at cheering people up. Hell, you had to rely on alcohol to cheer you up for the vast majority of you adult (and a little bit of your pre-adult) life. Still, you took her shaking hands in your own. “Hey. Don’t listen to that asshole. If you’re not comfortable...”

“I have done nude shots before, but this just feels… wrong. Doesn’t it?” she refused to look you in the eyes as hers glazed over in a thick sheet of shame. She was right. Nude shots were nothing new at all. In fact, some of your best shots had been done in the nude—they had the potential to be true art, but this? This was wrong.

She shook her head,“But I just… I don’t want to be unprofessional.”

“We can walk out right now. I’ll call Ainu and tell her what’s up I am sure she’ll understand,” as soon as you began walking to gather up some of your belongings, her voice spoke up once more—this time much colder than before,

“Maybe for you. Y/N, you could get away with murder at our agency-- you know that, right? You’re the one who bought Ainu her ticket to the top-- her golden child,” she sneered. You threw your eyes toward her own—not quite comprehending if this was the same person still talking to you.

It was, but this Dina had tears growing in her eyes, “Not everyone can half-ass everything and not care…” her voice shook. The two of you just stared at each other as wild emotions filled your expressions and overflowed into the room to drown you.

The patio door clicking open snapped you out of your trance and Dina furiously began wiping her eyes clean as the photographer reemerged, “Alright pretty ladies! Who’s ready to get back into things?”

You sighed.

With a quick roll of your eyes you angrily threw your top off—not even giving the girl with you a second glance as she did the same and the two of you settled yourself into position. The atmosphere was certainly much heavier than it had been before, but the photographer obviously couldn’t read the room,

“Y/N might I say, that your tits looks wonderful! Have you gotten a job recently? I mean- they look huge!”

Okay. 

That. Was. It. You couldn’t fucking hold it back anymore, “Talk about my tits again and I’ll stab you in the neck with your own goddamn tripod,” you kept posing as if you totally hadn’t just threatened someone’s life, but the photographer fell away from his camera, shock painted on his expression. Slacking on the job. Huh, who’s the unprofessional one now?

“…S-sweetheart I—”

“Don’t you fucking ‘sweetheart’ me!” you screamed, storming up to point a finger in his face. This surge of random emotion overwhelmed you. You had never felt this before—like you were gonna explode if you didn’t unleash it. And unleash it, you did, “The fuck is your problem?! You get some kick outta being a perverted asshole, asshole?!”

Dinah tried to come pull you back by the shoulders, “Y/N, maybe you should just calm dow—”

“No! Fuck this bastard!!” you smack her hands away as the photographer gets up and crossed his arms,

“This is so unprofessional. You women always jump to conclusions. Why cant you ever just take the compliment?”

“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST TAKE MY FOOT UP YOUR--”

And that’s how you ended up getting sent home two hours early. You had attempted to call Deku to rant about the harsh encounter, but he was at work. You supposed that saving lives a a little bit more important than “The Dramatic Tale of a Quirkless Model” or whatever fucking CW show your life had become. Your mind briefly fleeted to calling Bakugou, but he certainly wouldn’t answer anyway. No. Fuck that.

So you decided to text Deku and cry into your pillow instead,

You:

[2:49pm]

I mean he was just such a fucking dick!

I should have actually stuck my foot up his ass but he for sure would have liked it🙄

Seriously. I don’t mind nude photos

But there is a difference between art/photography and porn

Deku:

Right!!

Well I’m glad you stood up for yourself!

You:

No! Don’t tell me tht!😫

Deku:

I am upset tha you stood up for yourself…?

You:

UGHHH

I just wish tht I had just walked out

But the other girl wouldn’t leave and I couldn’t leaver her their

There*

God

Ainu is gonna 💀me for this

Deku:

How can I help you?

I’ll find what I can on the photographer?

You:

Talk Kacchan into not going to our clinical visit.👉👈

You knew that Deku really wanted to go, and honestly you would really prefer if he did. Regardless, Deku stood up for his childhood bully like the saint he was,

Deku:

Y/N! He’s the father. he deserves to go, don’t you think?

Also!

Don’t forget Baby Notes vol 1! I wrote some questions for you to ask!

You stifled a small laugh as you eyed that stupid goddamn notebook he left on your nightstand one of the few days he stopped by your home.

You:

Grr

I can’t handle Cockugou’s moodiness right now

And I-- Oop!

Speak of the devil. He’s here.

Talk later k?💕kith!

You snatched the notebook from your nightstand and marched to your front entrance. The knocking at your door was downright disrespectful—constantly switching between pounding knocks on your door and vigorous successions of the doorbell ringing.

“Fucking. Calm. Down!” you screamed out the door before answering, revealing Bakugou’s stern gaze,

“What the hell took you so long?” he huffed, causing your face to scrunch up into an expression that mirrored his own. 

“I had to walk to the damn door, you know! I’m quirkless? No teleportation quirk here!” He only clicked his tongue at your response. You noticed the way his eyes drifted down to the notebook in your hands before they narrowed into even tighter slits.

“Let’s just fucking go, already,” he took your wrist and led you out of the house before shutting your door. You could really just knock him the hell out. Okay, maybe you couldn't, but your weak ass might just be able to get one good hit in! He deserved it, not replying to any of your attempts to reach out to him past talking about the appointment,

“Why didn’t you answer my texts all week?”

“I was busy.” he simply said, not even bothering to look you in the eye. This was the last time he spoke up for a long while. In fact, you didn't even hear his voice again until later when the two of you sat in the small, shoebox of a room in the clinic with the prenatal physician,

“This is your first appointment, right?” the doctor, was extremely old looking and your mind phased into a grim question of ‘how the hell can someone so close to death know jack about birth?’

You tried your best to push these dark thoughts out of your head as you gave him a slight answer, “Yeah…” you laid back on the crinkly paper covered recliner and lift your shirt a bit for the examination. You looked down at the small, hardly noticeable bump in your lower abdomen and internally cringed. 

“This is the father?” you knew that it didn't really matter, and that he was probably just trying to make you comfortable and spark up some small talk, but you rally didn't wanna hear it out loud. 

You couldn't bring yourself to answer, but Bakugou loudly spoke up, filling the absence of your voice, “Why the hell else would I be here, old man?” he scoffed and twisted his face away from everyone. 

You raised an eyebrow at his rudeness, but from the vast stories that Deku had told you about him, you shouldn't have been surprised. But still, it was like seeing a mythical creature in real life-- a grumpy troll under a bridge, if you will. 

The doctor gave a loud laugh at Bakugou’s remark, causing both you and him to snap your surprised gazed to the elderly man, “You’d be surprised at the shit I have seen, son. Someone brought their neighbor for the entire 39 weeks once-- the husband came in only once or twice, I think.”

You couldn't help but to laugh at this. Your doctor’s voice had a much more youthful demeanor than he had originally led on, “Oh, they were definitely fucking behind the husbands back,” you smirked.

“So Mama Bakugou,” 

And just like that your smile was completely wiped off of your face, “This is your first child right?” the doctor asked. You felt Bakugou throw you a fleeting expectant look. You assumed that it was probably because he hadn't even thought to ask you this question. The two of you really didn't know each other. Matter of a fact, this doctor, with your list of medical history in his hand, probably knew a lot more than the father of this ‘it’ inside of you. 

“L/N actually,” you corrected, “and yes, it is.” with that, Bakugou’s glare drifted back off into unconcerned and uncaring territory as he found a sudden interest in the glass container of gloves on the counter. 

“Well you look about 10 weeks along. They’ll be about the size of a strawberry right now-- almost done with your first trimester.” he trailed off as he began coating your stomach with some sticky jelly substance. 

“What??” you could have sworn that you had only met Bakugou about two months ago right? So does that mean...

“The date of conception would have actually been a little closer to about 7 or 8 weeks ago. We just count by the first day of your last period. No need to get worried about the neighbor, I don’t think, Papa Bakugou,” he winked to the blond, who only gave a scoff in return. You let out a slight sigh of relief. 

The recipe for the rest of this appointment as the doctor searched your organs for your uterus in the ultrasound included him making small talk and Bakugou ignoring it with you giving slight answers here and there,

However, finally, something really caught both of your’s attention, “I think that you guys should take time today to find your primary care physician,”

“Why not you, idiot?” Bakugou spoke up and it shocked you. You were surprised he cared about this out of everything. 

“I am thinking that I should send you to someone with a specialty in a multiple pregnancy birth.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you and Bakugou shared a brief, terrified glance at one another, “What...?” Bakugou spat.

“You see these two circles? It looks like you’ve got two buns in the oven! Congrats on the twins!,” 

T...wins...?

The world bean fading into a blur for you as he continued, “Now You are a little past getting the neural tube check, but we can get you started in on some genetic testing and counseling’s. Every thing is looking alright, but we just want to…”

The world around you moved in a blurry, choppy chain of images as your mind tried its best to comprehend the knowledge it had been given. So... not only were you carrying one parasite... but two?

You couldn't bring yourself to listen the rest of the appointment, and you had a feeling that Bakugou wasn't picking up on much else after the shocking news either. 

If you thought that commute to the hospital was quiet, the walk back to your apartment was even more so.

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[bndz]

(normani kordei, twenty-two, cisfemale, she/her) * hey, i’m looking for the office of adrianna king. they’re the intern who’s known around the office as the airhead, if that helps? not to be a gossip, but i’ve heard that they’re humorous but talkative, is that true? i also heard that they’re the one who brought her pet fish to work. anyways, here’s the coffee they ordered.

&  i’m  back  at  it  again  with  another  character  !  it  me  ,  tay  !  i  have  another  child  &  her  name  is  adri  .  she’s  my  bubbly  little  baby  &  i  love  her  chatty  ass  down  !  i  have  some  points  about  her  below  &  i  am  so  excited  that  i  got  to  bring  her  here  .  tw  :  religion  ,  homophobia  ,  toxic  parents  &  mentions  of  physical  violence  .

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒔  !

NAME   :    adrianna  king  . NICKNAMES  :  adri  . GENDER   :   cisfemale  . PRONOUNS   :   she  /  her  /  hers  . AGE   :   twenty-two  (  22  ) BIRTHDAY   :   23  september  . ZODIAC   :   libra  . HOMETOWN  :  miami  ,  florida  . CURRENT  RESIDENCE  : new york city  , new york  . ETHNICITY   :   african-american  . SEXUAL ORIENTATION   :   bisexual  . OCCUPATION  :   intern  .  (  the  art  department  ,  but  more  so  visual  art  )

𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅  !

FAMILY   :  born  &  raised  in  the  city  of  miami  ,  adri  grew  up  in  a  household  that  was  highly  religious  .  her  family  was  heavily  involved  in  the  church  with  her  mother  also  being  a  pastor  herself  .  because  of  this  ,  her  parents  were  very  strict  &  super  controlling  .  they  monitored  almost  everything  surrounding  adri  since  she  was  their  only  child  ,  trying  to  prevent  anything  they  deemed  negative  &  wrong  to  consume  their  daughter  .  

this  caused  for  adri  to  at  first  obey  them  because  she  was  a  child  ,  but  as  she  reached  her  teenage  years  she  saw  how  toxic  her  parents  could  actually  be  .  they  were  the  definition  of  religious  hover  parents  &  it  was  slowly  starting  to  cause  adri  to  resent  them  .  they  would  spend  hours  lecturing  her  if  she  wore  something  they  thought  was  inappropriate  .  they  would  call  her  names  &  say  she  was  being  fast  for  her  age  .  they  would  tell  her  she  was  going  to  go  to  hell  if  she  didn’t  listen  to  the  word  of  god  .  

it  all  came  to  blows  when  adri  was  figuring  out  her  sexuality  .  all  her  life  she  was  told  that  liking  the  same  sex  was  wrong  ,  but  she  was  having  feelings  for  the  same  sex  .  at  first  she  felt  internalized  homophobia  ,  but  as  she  started  to  grow  into  her  own  person  &  renounce  the  teachings  that  were  drilling  into  her  head  ,  she  started  to  accept  herself  .  she  knew  that  her  parents  were  going  to  condemn  her  ,  so  she  didn’t  ever  plan  on  coming  out  until  she  moved  out  .  sadly  ,  her  father  did  a  random  check  of  her  phone  &  found  texts  that  she  didn’t  delete  to  a  girl  she  was  dating  at  the  time  .  it  was  literally  a  shit  show  in  the  king  household  .  slaps  &  many  sessions  of  trying  to  pray  the  gay  away  later  ,  adri  had  to  pretend  as  though  she  was  not  bisexual  .  she  had  to  break  up  with  her  girlfriend  &  was  removed  from  public  school  to  be  home  schooled  at  sixteen  .   to  say  she  hated  her  parents  was  an  understatement  .  

as  the  years  went  on  ,  adrianna  was  counting  down  the  days  until  she  could  be  off  to  college  .  during  her  senior  year  she  applied  to  the  furthest  schools  from  miami  .  she  had  to  beg  her  parents  to  let  her  attend  an  out  of  state  college  ,  but  because  her  act  at  home  was  convincing  ,  they  allowed  her  to  stay  with  her  aunt  in  new  york  to  attend  college  .  they  were  still  going  to  be  as  controlling  as  ever  ,  but  it  was  a  step  closer  towards  freedom  .

SCHOOL   :  adrianna  attended  hofstra  university  &  majored  in  art  .  while  she  was  in  grade  school  ,  adrianna  gravitated  towards  painting  because  it  was  the  best  way  for  her  to  get  what  she  was  feeling  out  .  attending  college  was  the  best  thing  for  her  .  although  her  aunt  was  as  strict  &  religious  as  her  parents  ,  she  used  college  as  a  way  to  wild  out  .  she  was  sneaking  out  easier  because  her  aunt  worked  overnight  shifts  as  an  rn  .  she  was  enjoying  the  ounce  of  freedom  that  she  had  even  if  her  family  was  on  her  neck  24  /  7  .  she  had  a  lot  of  pressure  to  graduate  &  get  a  job  ,  so  that  she  could  live  on  her  own  &  she  knew  that  the  arts  wasn’t  the  best  major  to  find  a  joke  as  quickly  as  she  wanted  .  but  graduation  came  quick  &  adri  was  literally  scrambling  .

MASTER’S  :  after  college  ,  adri  was  literally  running  all  over  nyc  trying  to  look  for  a  job  .  it  took  her  months  to  finally  land  a  job  interview  at  master’s  &  she  honestly  thought  she  flopped  .  when  she  got  the  position  as  an  intern  she  was  literally  over  the  moon  .  she  absolutely  loves  working  at  master’s  &  she’s  hoping  she  can  move  up  the  ranks  .  being  that  she’s  new  at  the  position  ,  she’s  trying  her  best  to  fit  in  &  get  things  done  in  a  timely  manner  .  she  does  struggle  a  bit  because  it’s  her  first  big  girl  job  ,  but  she’s  working  on  it  day  by  day  .

𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚  !

BUBBLY   :  you  could  easily  describe  her  as  someone  that  lights  up  the  room  with  her  smile  alone  .  adrianna  is  super  cheerful  &  very  positive  majority  of  the  time  .  she  has  a  hint  of  pep  in  her  voice  that  almost  sounds  like  she  talks  with  a  smile  &  she  usually  does  .  she  just  loves  to  talk  &  interact  with  others  .

FLIRTATIOUS  :  due  to  her  personality  ,  adrianna  is  naturally  friendly  &  flirtatious  .  she  will  flirt  with  ya  boo  &  it  won’t  even  be  intentional.  that’s  just  who  she  is  .  some  may  call  her  a  thottie  because  she  does  live  her  best  hot  girl  life  ,  but  she  truly  does  not  care  .  she  does  what  she  wants  because  she’s  poppin’  !  (  see connections  for  some  mess  surrounding  this  trait  )

TALKATIVE   :  honestly  ,  she  will  never  shut  up.  she  talks  very  fast  &  says  a  lot  &  it  can  also  be  alot  .  she  just  loves  to  talk  y’all  .  she  will  talk  anybody’s  ear  off  who  will  listen  .  she  can’t  help  it  .

DITZY   :   def’  has  her  moments  where  she’s  super  lost  .  it  takes  her  a  few  seconds  to  understand  jokes  sometimes  &  can  def’  lose  her  train  of  thought  as  well  .  she  can  be  a  little  dumb  ,  but  she’s  just  all  over  the  place  .  somebody  help  her  ,  please  ! 

in  general  she’s  like  a  bimbo  ,  but  not  to  the  worst  degree  .  she’s  v  aware  &  just  has  her  moments  .  she  doesn’t  like  when  people  try  to  be  condescending  towards  her  because  of  her  personality  ,  so  she  can  get  a  little  defensive  &  snappy  when  pushed  to  that  degree  .  it  takes  her  a  lot  to  snap  ,  so  i  doubt  she  will  be  popping  off  unless  she  is  truly  offended  .  she’s  also  not  that  confrontational  ,  but  if  she  has  to  defend  herself  ,  she  will  .  (  she  lowkey  can  get  creative  tbh  )  she’s  just  here  to  befriend  people  ,  okay  !

𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔  !

001  .  enemies  .  i  feel  like  because  she’s  genuinely  nice  it  would  have  to  be  a  huge  reason  for  her  to  dislike  someone  .  so  ,  pick  your  poison  . 002  .  friends  with  benefits  .  we  always  love  these  ,  don’t  we  ?  she’s  with  all  the  shits  ,  okay  .  head  hot  girl  at  your  service  ! 003  .  exes  .  not  to  be  that  garbage  bag  ,  but  i’m  pretty  positive  adrianna  probably  cheated  on  all  of  her  exes  due  to  boredom  .  she  is  someone  that  needs  change  in  her  life  bc  of  how  she  was  treated  at  home  .  if  she  feels  stagnant  ,  she  will  just  pull  some  bs  like  cheating  &  move  on  to  the  next  .  truly  her  biggest  flaw  &  someone  gotta  smite  her  ass  for  this  fr  ! 004  .  besties  .  someone  give  her  a  baddie  bff  pls  ! 005  .  a  work  boo  .  v  self  explanatory  . 006  .  a  muse  .  since  adri  likes  to  paint  ,  this  could  be  someone  that inspires  her  artwork  or  even  let’s  her  paint  them  on  occasion  . again  ,  i  am  terrible  at  thinking  of  connections  ,  so  i’m  down  for  all  the  plots  !

𝒇𝒖𝒏  𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒔  !

001  .  she  is  type  one  diabetic  . 002  .  is  a  huge  bad  bunny  stan  . 003  .  a  bratz  doll  collector  . 004  .  is  into  art  &  loves  to  paint  . 005  .  her  guilty  pleasure  is  watching  bad  girls  club  .