#and I'm here now with a brain that will never be normal

[writersrkive]

Don't shut up | Spencer Reid

summary: Spencer is used to people who constantly tell him to shut up, but somehow, he feels even more embarrassed and sad when he thinks you want him to stop talking after looking at the tired and confused expression you have when he's trying to help you. The thing is you hate when people do that to Spence and would spend years just listening to his voice.

gender: fluff

pairing: Early seasons!Spencer Reid x bau!reader

warnings: mentions of the team shutting Spencer down. Derek and JJ being a little mean to him when he's spreading information. Spencer being a cutie potato. Mention of a stomachache and its causes (mention of miscarriage as one of the causes, but nothing happens). Reader not being a native english speaker, but just a slight mention.

a/n: Dr. Spencer Reid is a genius.... I am not. I literally had to search for information and copy-paste here in some parts, so if there's misinformation, it's Google's fault, lmao. I wrote this yesterday when I was about to sleep, so I'm sorry if something is wrong with the writing (even though I already edited). English isn't my first language, please be kind <3.

Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

Spencer and you arrived early that morning. He hated being late for anything. He couldn't afford to be late if he wanted to stick as closely as possible to his assigned schedule, especially because he took public transport. On the other hand, you had no choice but to arrive early when you woke up at four in the morning thanks to a severe stomachache and couldn't go back to sleep.

That's how your conversation started. Your genius workmate was surprised to see you, first hour in the morning, when he walked in the office, even before Hotch arrived.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. You couldn't deny that the expression was too cute for your own good.

“Yeah… I think so. It's not even the stomach ache that bothers me, it's the fact that even if I was sleepy, I couldn't fall asleep again. You know? That happens to me a lot. Once I open my eyes, I can't go back to sleep. I've also been feeling mildly unwell for a week, but even though the medication is controlling it, it doesn't stop."

At this point, he already set up his desk, leaving his briefcase on his own chair to walk over to you and sit at your desk, next to the chair you were sitting in, to listen to you attentively and answer.

“The brain works with different phases of sleep: light sleep, deep sleep, and REM sleep. The cycle usually restarts every eighty to one hundred minutes, and we typically have four to six cycles each night.”

Hotch came out of the elevator and walked upstairs after both of you waved at him, and he let out a soft “good morning”. Emily arrived a few seconds later. You greeted her too, as she took place on her desk, but that didn't stop your conversation.

“So, it's completely normal that we wake up in the middle of the night because of that process, but if it is frequent, for three months or more, it may be a symptom of insomnia.”

Your view went to the floor, and your head nodded in a semi-unconscious movement, because although you knew that your sleep cycle was ruined by work, you had not come to that conclusion, maybe that was it.

“Now, the stomachache…” He said, taking one pen from your pencil case to concentrate. He usually never took other people's belongings or shared his own stuff because of the germs, but somehow, after a few years of working together, he had come to have a good amount of closeness with you to borrow some stuff from you. Months ago, it hadn't gone unnoticed by Penelope that Spencer had a box full of pens reserved for you, in case you needed one, nor the fact that he denied JJ one of them once, when the blonde girl needed something to write with quickly.

“The causes can be the most common, such as gas, indigestion, a muscle injury, or stress. Although there are also more serious causes: gastrointestinal infections, inflammatory bowel disease, irritable bowel syndrome, ectopic pregnancy or miscarriage..."

“Wow, what are you trying to do? Scare her?” Derek's voice invaded the place and Emily smirked.

“What? No, I'm just saying the possibilities…” Spencer whispered, looking down, a little worried that he might actually scared the person he cared more, besides his mom.

“It's okay.” You answer loud enough so your friends and coworkers would hear. “Thanks, Spence. I already went to the doctor, so I have none of… those.” I gave him a little smile. “But about stress…” The sentence hung in the air, so Spencer looked up and continued speaking automatically.

“Stress can cause stomach pain because the autonomic nervous system of the gastrointestinal tract reacts to the same hormones and neurotransmitters as the brain. This is because the digestive system is connected to the nervous system, and the enteric nervous system, which is located in the digestive system, is able to send and receive impulses and assimilate emotions.” He started to talk faster.

Your focus on the genius boy and his explanation was sincere, but maybe it was the fact that you didn't rest well, plus the fact that he was speaking too fast and not vocalizing all the syllables, that for a moment your brain didn't process what he was saying.

It was weird. At some point you didn't even hear words, just sounds from his mouth. That didn't happen to you for a really long time because you already had experience with the native speakers, even if english wasn't your mother language. The exhausting feeling of not being able to sleep well was definitely to blame.

While your brain was coming to that conclusion, Spencer could only see your furrowed brow, tense jaw, tilted head, and dissociated look.

“You want me to shut up, right?” That whisper was enough for you to come back to reality. His cheeks were red and his eyes looked a little sad, not to mention the way his mouth formed a line like whenever he felt awkward.

“Yes, please!” Derek answered instead, leaning back in his seat and looking up with his arms outstretched as if he'd had to deal with seven unsubs in the five minutes he'd been there, listening from his place to the information Spencer was giving you.

“Little genius boy got excited… again.” JJ said, looking at some documents in front of her, opening her eyes wide in an expression of tiredness and disinterest.

The young profiler stood up from your desk thinking about returning to his chair, a little embarrassed, but you took his pinky with yours —that way you wouldn't make him feel uncomfortable in case he wasn't in the mood for physical touch, something he refused unless it was you. Again, another special treat—. “Wait. It wasn't like that.” Hazel eyes looked at you intently, still with a bit of doubt. “I'm sorry Spencer. Yes, you got excited, but that's not something bad.”

“It isn't?” He questioned.

“No, but you started to speak fast, and the fact that there are some words that I have a hard time processing in English and I couldn't quite catch what you were saying because I didn't sleep enough, well, that distracted me. Would you mind repeating it again, slower?” This time, you were the one with warm cheeks.

“Oh. Are you sure you don't want me to shut up?” The boy was actually intrigued and a little surprised.

“Why would I want that?” The fact that your teammates often shut Spencer up when he tried to share extra information, or information that he had been asked about, was something you had noticed from the moment you started working with the team. You thought that was rude. You understood that sometimes Spencer got excited, gave information that was perhaps better saved for another time since you were investigating a case, or people could be tired and want silence, but the team either silenced him or made fun of him most of the time. Plus, there weren't many other things you liked more than hearing his voice.

The sweet, soothing tone of his words helped you sleep on the jet after a long case, or made you want to hear more about whatever he was talking about. Feeling like he was sharing with you, a mere mortal, some of the vast knowledge he had was nice.

“I'm always happy to hear whatever you need to say, even if it's about something I don't understand. And, right now, you are helping me a lot, so, please, don't shut up.” The crimson color returned to the tall boy's face, this time not because he was uncomfortable. Your kind and somewhat complicit smile made his heart race, like almost every time he was with you. Spencer knew that no matter how tired he got, he would never shut up if you wanted him to keep talking.

[backinmyphase]

Part 1

Thinking about how obsessed King of Curses Sukuna is with you, you, who was originally just a gift from a village.

Lord Sukuna, who is oblivious to the reason why he treats you differently, who thinks you are just the most intriguing person he had seen in years. He didn't know it was over for him the moment he saw your standing there, anger obvious behind your loosely mask. You looked at him with these challenging eyes and raised your head, making that snappy comment. Normally he would have killed you right then and there.

But he didn't. In fact he doesn't even know why he had burned down that village for you.

And now you were sitting in his estate, always with that scowl on your face.

Why did he allow you to eat with him? Why did he order you to eat with him? He doesn't know. But he didn't want you to eat without him, which he just can't explain to himself.

He couldn't explain why he made sure Uraume was watching over you. Didn't know why he gave you your own chamber, so many new clothes and why he gave you permission to go inside his library. Something inside him was just telling him that was right.

And that something inside of him was so angry to see you falling into yourself. To see you neglecting your health over weeks.

It was evening.

Like always, there was a big dinner prepared for the king and he had ordered you to eat with him. But you didn't touch your food, no you just sat there, looking at your plate to avoid his gaze. Oh, he didn't like that.

He stopped eating, narrowing his eyes on your cowering figure. "Why are you not eating."

"Not hungry." your voice was hoarse but still snappy like always.

"You need to eat."

He glanced at Uraume, who shook their head. A silent note you didn't have any sickness.

You picked at the food, but still no sign of actual eating. And god, did it drive him crazy. You were driving him crazy. Your never leaving scowl and your constant denying of everything he had laid out. He just didn't get you.

He didn't know why he even bothered. But he still spoke up.

"What is on your mind?"

You looked up at him. There was no scowl, like he thought, no there was just a shimmer of exhaustion and maybe frustration.

"What am I even doing here, my Lord?" your voice didn't have any sharp in it. "I'm no servant for you, no concubine, not even a jester or anything like that. Why am I here?"

Silence flooded the room. Because you had just asked the question Sukuna asked himself every day. Why did he even bring you here?

He was clueless. Or that was what his brain was telling him.

He inspected you, your almost pleading eyes and he didn't like how you looked at him. He didn't like the almost hopeless look in your eyes.

"Did you want to stay with these people, is it that?" he took a sip of wine.

"No, we both know it's not that." you muttered, taking a deep breath. "Why do I not work for you? Why are you so -"

He raised an eyebrow at you as you struggled to find the right word. Then you finally shook your head.

"Why are you so nice to me?"

He couldn't help but chuckle, a grin following. "You mean, why has the King of Curses not killed me yet?"

You scoffed. "Yes."

"Well you see," he stopped for a moment, before speaking again. "I find you fascinating. And I like to know what I find fascinating."

You rolled your eyes, another thing he only liked when you did it. "So I'm here to be watched like an animal because the King finds me exotic, how kind."

He started to grow impatient, he didn't know why. "You think I would let a meekly animal into my library and give them their own chambers? You think lowly of me."

You started to blink at him, confusion visible on your face. It was his turn to scoff now.

"You're fascinating because I don't get you. And I want to know you. That's why I brought you here." At least that's what he thought.

You turned completely silent, your eyes now looking down onto your plate again.

"That's why you don't 'work' for me, I don't want you to. I don't need you to." he took another sip. "You just shouldn't get your hands dirty."

He looked at you, waiting for a response. Watching how you avoided his gaze, how you gulped. For a second your eyes flicked up to look at him, but went down immediately as your eyes meet his.

"Stop." you were muttering again.

"What?"

"Staring at me like that."

"Why?" He grinned, lowering his voice. "You know I like to stare."

He saw a faint tint of blush on the part of your face he could see. You were silent for a while until you cleared your throat. "I can't eat with you staring at me like that."

. . .

"Alright, I can leave you alone to eat." he stood up. "But you have to now. Eat."

A small chuckle escaped you. "Is that an order?"

"No, it's a request." With that he turned around, leaving to go to his chambers.

You waited til he left the room to breathe. Your body finally relaxing. You looked at Uraume.

"He sounds like he is in... Does he know how he sounds?"

Uraume shook their head. "No, he has no clue. But he wants you to eat, so please do."

@thequeenofcurses

[reginyani]

Late Night Case Files | s.reid x reader

you and Spencer find yourselves working late on some case files, and what starts off as a deep conversation ends in something more intimate.

category: fluff

cw: Y/N used, reader implied as a female, make out sesh (sorta), earlyseasons!spencer

wc: 811

note: please reblog if you enjoyed! reblogging is the only way to promote fics on tumblr :) this is pretty simple, but the ideas are not flowing recently💔

It was well past midnight when you and Spencer Reid found yourselves in a dimly lit conference room. Case files were scattered everywhere, but you both were too deep into this case to just take off and leave it for tomorrow. Coffee cups were carefully placed away from the stacks of papers, barely touched and cold.

Spencer looked up into the distance, muttering to himself while he processed new information. You watched him for a few moments, visibly seeing something click in his brain that hadn't before. He looked up at you, his eyebrows furrowed. It was quite amusing, actually.

"Y/N, I think I've got it." He motioned with his hand for you to come over to his side. He held onto the file, letting you look at it for a moment before telling you. You looked at him, confused, still not understanding. He finally pointed at the paper, looking up at you. "Right here," his voice was quieter due to the darkness of the night. "This here is the connection we've all just looked over. We missed it, and there it was... in plain sight." He sighed.

You smile brightly, nodding at his connection to the case. "You're amazing, boy genius," you said softly, but not just about the case—just him in general. Spencer's usual distance from you, both emotionally and physically, was absent tonight. He was closer than normal, almost leaving no space between you two, like right now. You shifted slightly away from him, realizing how weird it was to be so close to him. It wasn’t normal.

He looked over at you, smiling at your compliment. "I'm just doing my job, Y/N." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, waiting for you to say something else.

"It's not just that, Reid. You see every little detail that others don't. It's truly something that you should give yourself more credit for." Spencer's lips parted slightly as you said this, like he was going to say something, but he hesitated. "What?" you asked.

"It's just... sometimes I feel like I've missed out on the most simple things." He looked down at the files scattered on the table again before looking back up at you. "Like... really connecting with people, you know?"

You were taken aback by this. This was Dr. Spencer Reid, a man who could crack cases in seconds, decode a serial killer’s mind without any issues! But something about the atmosphere of the dark night outside the windows, the late hour, and the rhythm you shared in the work you had just done made him feel... loose.

You met his eyes, not knowing what to say.

"Sorry, I've just never had the opportunity to talk about this stuff with anyone before. Not in any way that feels... real," he explained, causing you to automatically nod in his direction.

"You're not alone, Spencer. I think everyone struggles with that sometimes," you said, puckering your lips with empathy. You couldn't help it, the warmth spread throughout your body as you felt the connection between you two growing by the second.

He was standing in front of you, barely any space between you two. You soon began to notice this—it was hard not to. You both stared into each other's eyes, letting the tension grow heavier.

Spencer broke the silence, sounding almost breathless as he smiled at you. "Did you know," he began, putting a hand on your cheek and drawing you closer to him, "according to studies, kissing is actually safer than shaking hands?"

You raised an eyebrow in question. "Kissing? Really?" you asked, your heart beating rapidly. He didn't answer, instead slowly closing the gap between you both.

When your lips met, it was soft at first, like a question that you had to answer. You quickly answered it, pulling your hand up and resting it on his shoulder as you deepened the kiss. Your other hand found its way to his neck, holding onto it as you pulled him in closer.

You both eventually pull away, his hand still resting on your cheek, your breaths mingling between you two. You smiled, and he sent one back. Your breath started to calm, and he opened his mouth.

"Way safer than shaking hands..." he muttered, still breathless from the previous act.

You chuckled softly, looking into his eyes. "Well, I think I can take that as a compliment."

[hailtothepumpkinqueen]

(This is probably the longest thing I've ever written, around 4.5k words, but it wouldn't leave my head til I made it real lol

From Shane's perspective. No one had seen the farmer all day, and he's the only one who goes to check on her. Lot of talking over drinks ensues.)

Everybody Talks

Gossip was nothing new for Shane. In a small community like Pelican Town, gossip was the lifeblood and social currency that kept it running. No "secret" was ever truly secret, everyone knew everyone else's dirty laundry. It was the number one pastime and practically a professional sport here. He himself knew far more than he ever cared to learn from his spot in the Saloon(and been the topic of discussion more times than he could count), but he at least had the good sense to drink his beer and keep his mouth shut.

And, on a Friday night like tonight, the not at all subtle gossip sessions were in full swing. Seemingly everyone clucking like excited hens about one topic in particular: the farmer.

Now, she wasn't a new topic of conversation either. The whole damn Valley was a-buzz about her before she even stepped off the bus, hungry for fresh meat. Hungry for new secrets to uncover and info to share. Speculating and predicting what kind of person she'd be purely based on their own biases. Not that he had been much better. Constantly hearing about her had soured his opinion before he even knew her name. Like hearing a harmless song on the radio so many times you'd grown to hate it. But, again, he at least kept his opinions to himself. Mostly. Not his fault his face gave away what he was thinking.

The specific reason why everyone was talking about her, however, pricked his ears up.

No one had seen her at all today. She hadn't come to Pierre's shop, she hadn't picked up one of her tools from Clint, and she was clearly absent from the Saloon on a Friday. No one could recall speaking to her and the requests on the bulletin board had gone ignored. It was as if she had just vanished into thin air.

But, in all the theories he heard bouncing around, he never once heard someone admit to going to her house to check on her. Fucking typical. Feign concern and then expect someone else to actually do something about it. Yoba forbid she was hurt or something..

The thought made his stomach churn and his chest tighten suddenly. Normally, someone dropping off the face of the earth wouldn't bother him. Maybe she just wanted to be left alone for once, that was her business. But, after their talk on the dock, knowing she was struggling, he couldn't help the nagging worry chewing on his insides.

Ah, fuck it. He wasn't gonna be able to enjoy his drink with his stomach in knots like this. Might as well be the one to at least make sure she was alive. Just get eyes on her and then back to the Saloon for a well deserved cold one. Easy peasy.

He found himself walking very quickly towards the farmhouse, shivering at more than just the chill of a particularly cold Fall wind as his brain swirled with worst case scenarios. Images conjured up by a mind that consumed horror movies on a regular basis and knowing the kind of damage farm equipment could cause. A new grisly mental picture cropping up every time he shook the previous one away. Blood and guts and exposed bone and lifeless eyes and--

The sharp sound of a dog barking ripped him from his gorey thoughts, making him freeze in place. The big ass german shepard he forgot she had was staring at him suspiciously, barking again as if to say "state your business!"

"Heeey, boy. Easy. I'm just here to check on your...master? Nope, that sounds gross. Owner? Uh, person?" He held a hand out for the dog to sniff, speaking softly and calmly. Hoping if he appeared chill he'd get to keep his appendage intact.

The dog, seemingly satisfied with that, licked his hand and looked back towards the wooded area of the property. Where Shane could hear, right on cue, the sound of approaching footsteps and see the light of a lamp growing brighter as it got closer.

Out of the treeline stepped the farmer, her dark hair pulled up in a bun for the first time he could remember seeing. It made her look taller somehow, maybe because her neck looked longer this way. Like a swan. She had an axe slung over her shoulder and presumably firewood under the other arm, the light he thought was from a lamp emanating from a ring on her pointer finger.

"Miller?" He called, more out of shock than anything. Inwardly relieved that she was okay and feeling dumb for worrying so much.

Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw him before her face settled into an uncharacteristic scowl, setting the axe down with a muffled thump as it hit the dirt.

"Cooper." She replied coolly, breezing past him towards the house. Putting the firewood in its cubby and pointedly not looking at him. "Did Marnie send you? She'll get her vegetables first thing tomorrow, tell her to just be patient."

"Wh...no? My aunt didn't send me, I'm not her errand boy." He huffed, offput by the assumption and her weirdly icy demeanor. Yeesh, was this what it was like to be on the receiving end of his prickly attitude?

"Little late to be checking on the chickens, then. They're asleep by now. But the coop's over there if you wanna wake them up and say 'hi'." Nodding her head towards said coop and still not looking at him, throwing off her work gloves on the porch.

"I'm not here for that either. I--hey!" He reached out to grab her wrist as she moved to walk past him again. "Would you just stop a second? I came to see you, okay?"

She tensed up but didn't try to pull away from him. And, now that he was close, he could see her eyes were puffy and red, and her lip was quivering. She'd been crying again...

"You came all the way out here just to see me? Yeah, right." She gave a bitter sounding laugh and shook her head in disbelief, her voice cracking.

"It's true!" He insisted, leaning to try and look her in the eye. "The whole town's in a tizzy because no one had heard from you today. And I was..."

"Were you worried about me, Cooper?" She arched an eyebrow brow at him, the barest hint of an amused smirk turning up a corner of her mouth.

"I mean...a little? Maybe. If you wanna call it that." He felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment, releasing her wrist and stepping away. Shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. "Just wanted to make sure you weren't stuck in a well or somethin'."

She blew air out of her nose, and the smile became a little more pronounced, some of the tension visibly leaving her shoulders.

"Nothing so dramatic, I'm afraid. Just...ugh. It's so stupid..." She frowned again and looked away from him, putting her hands on her hips.

"Try me. I bet I've heard stupider."

She sighed heavily, sitting on the top step of the porch and digging a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket. Holding it out to him to take. Which he did, carefully, smoothing it out to make sense of the scribbles he could see written on it.

It was a letter from her dad. Short and sweet, hardly anything worth getting upset over from what he could tell. Though a line about the dad retiring to the Fern Islands using her hard earned money admittedly rubbed him the wrong way.

"Uh...?" He didn't know what to say, handing the paper back to her with a quizzical expression. She sighed again.

"I have been begging him to come see the farm, to come see me, for weeks. But Kaiden has peewee gridball practice or JJ has a band recital or Debbie needed another couples' getaway, so it's always 'next time, next time, next time.' Good to know he's sooo impressed with my progress and expects me to pay for his retirement, though, I guess. Thanks a fucking lot, dad."

She crumpled the letter up again and chucked it into the dark with an angry grunt, letting out a laugh when the dog ran after it and gleefully ripped it to shreds.

"You call your mom by her first name?" He cringed as soon as the question left his mouth. Really, Shane? She's upset and that's what you focus on? Fuck's sake.

"What?" She gave him a bewildered look. "No. No, Debbie's my stepmom. Her and dad's kids are my half-brothers."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"...I'm still waiting to hear the stupid part." He said gently, daring to sit on the step next to her and putting them in close proximity again. And again she didn't flinch away from him, just scoot over a little to give him room.

"It's stupid to get my feelings hurt over a pattern of behavior I'm well aware of. I thought that, maybe, he'd be more interested in this place since Grandpa Miller was his dad and all. But nah. His new family is still the center of his universe and I'm only a blip on the radar when it's convenient." She shrugged like it didn't bother her, but he could see the way her jaw clenched and hear the way her voice wobbled. This was some deep rooted hurt. "Sorry. This is why I was a hermit today. No one wants to hear me whinge like an angsty teen because 'daddy doesn't love me'."

"You kidding? The old biddies back in town would kill to hear this kind of juicy family drama." He teased, pleased with himself when she laughed. Once again using humor to deal with the tough shit.

"Guess you'll have a good story to tell them then. Congrats." She grinned back at him, rolling her eyes good naturedly.

"Oh, yeah. You know me, biggest blabbermouth in Pelican Town. All your secrets traded away for the low, low price of cheap beer and spicy bar pretzels~."

She laughed again, throwing her head back and leaning against him for support. For some reason, the little gesture made his chest feel tight again, but in a good way? Weird.

"Well, I don't have spicy pretzels, but can I pay you in beer not to go blabbing my dumb family bullshit to everyone?" She waggled her eyebrows at him and smirked, whispering like they were making some kind of shady deal. He couldn't help but laugh at the silliness of it all.

"You drive a hard bargain, but I think I can agree to those terms." He held out his hand for her to shake, mirroring her smirk. She took his hand without hesitation and giggled, giving it a firm shake before using him as leverage to push herself to standing. Quickly disappearing into the farmhouse and leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He should leave. He had only wanted to make sure she was okay and head back. She was okay, physically anyway, just wanted to be left alone. He should leave. But she was offering him free beer...and honestly he preferred her company over everyone probably still gossiping about her in the Saloon. But did she want him to stay? Why would she? Half of the damn town was in love with her, all of them so much better than him, surely she'd prefer to be with anyone else than a miserable asshole. He should leave..

An amber colored glass bottle suddenly entering his line of sight startled him back to reality, blinking and looking up to where it had come from. She had returned without him realizing, holding out what he assumed was the beer she had promised while leaning over him. She'd let her hair down again, dark locks flowing over her shoulder in a curtain. The porch light illuminating her from behind like a halo, and she was smiling. At him. Seemingly content with their close proximity to each other. It honestly made his breath catch in his throat, and again he didn't understand why his body was acting this way.

"You good there, bud?" She chuckled, surely realizing he was gawking at her at the same moment he did. Mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a dying fish as he took the bottle from her.

"Uh. Yeah. Just spaced out a minute. Sorry." He cleared his throat awkwardly, grateful that the beer was already open so he could take a swig to distract himself. Surprised when it tasted much better than the cheap swill JojaMart was selling, and even more surprised when he went to check the label, only to see there wasn't one. "Where did you get this? I don't recognize the, uh, lack of brand."

"Oh. Um, I made it." She said shyly, sitting next to him on the step and looking into her own bottle. "Sorry, I brewed it. I think that's the right term."

He blinked. "What?"

"I brewed it." She repeated, her voice even quieter. "Turns out Grandpa Miller had a little brewery in the cellar, including actually really detailed instructions on how to, y'know, brew stuff. Beer, ale, wine, mead, et cetera. So, I figured I'd give it a shot. And when...if my dad came to visit, we could celebrate the farm's success with a few beers made from wheat from the farm. But, you already know how that story ends.."

He could feel himself doing a dying fish impression again, trying to process what she had told him. This woman went out of her way to learn how to brew her own beer for her dad, who has clearly never made his daughter a priority a day in her life. Beer that he was now drinking because she was gracious enough to share. Gracious enough to tell him all this to begin with.

"Miller, you're incredible." The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them, soft and earnest.

She spluttered and giggled at the sudden praise, seemingly torn between hiding behind her hair and tucking it behind her ear, pale face very noticeably turning red. It was cute, she was cute. How had he not noticed that before?

"Shut up. You're just saying that 'cause I'm bribing you with beer." She pushed at him playfully, still frazzled by his compliment. He made a mock offended gasp and pushed her back, hiding a grin behind taking another swig of beer.

"I'm serious." He assured her. "And if your dad doesn't realize that, he's a brain dead moron."

Her expression softened at that, eyes suddenly shiny with what looked like unshed tears. A watery little laugh escaping her before she took a drink of her own beer.

"I...thank you, Shane." She said quietly, wiping at her eyes with the heel of her hand. "And thank you for checking on me. Sorry I was so snippy with you before."

He scoffed and gave her a mildly bemused look. "Really? After all the times I've been a dick to you? 'Bout time you threw some it back at me honestly."

"I know, I know. I just...I'm not used to people remembering I exist unless they want something from me, I guess. No one ever just wants me, no one cares about just me. So, when I saw you I made an assumption, and I was wrong. So, I'm sorry." Her posture sunk and she curled into herself a little, fingernails tapping against the glass bottle.

Well, fuck. No wonder she always seemed so eager to help out everyone in town, including him. She didn't think she existed unless she was being useful. The idea of that broke his heart, which he didn't think was still possible.

"How many beers do I owe you not to tell anyone that?" She piped up again before he could respond, looking to him with a weak little smile. Obviously taking a page from his playbook and joking to lighten the mood. He chuckled softly, pretending to mull over a decision while tapping his chin.

"How many you got?" He eventually grinned, holding up his almost empty bottle.

They ended up drinking through her entire stash, sitting on the porch and talking for what must have been hours about...well, about a lot of things. She told him more about her dad, who never really tried to bond with her because she was a girl, and he couldn't figure out how to "relate" to a daughter. About her controlling mother, who cut contact with her when she quit her secure job to move to the uncertainty of Pelican Town. Clearly waiting for her to fail and come crawling back to the mom's "good graces". He, in turn, told her he hasn't spoken to either of his parents since he moved out almost two decades ago and was all the better for it. Not that he had much of a relationship with either of them to begin with. Toasting to the hope they didn't turn out like their parents.

She told him that before she was a data entry clerk for Joja, she was on track to becoming a professional ballerina. Until her achilles tendon snapped in the middle of a recital, effectively killing her mother's dream to live vicariously through her. So he told her of his varsity gridball days, how his dream of going pro was crushed when he tore his ACL during practice. She showed him the scar running up her heel, he showed her the scar running down his knee, and they laughed at an alternate universe where they'd be retiring from their lucrative professions by now. Toasting to knowing when it was going to rain before the weatherman because of joint pain.

They talked about music, about movies, about tattoos, about their animals, about anything they could think of until eventually petering out into a comfortable silence. One she broke after a long moment with a soft laugh.

"What?" He glanced at her curiously.

"Nothing. It's just...you're really easy to talk to when you're not being a complete asshole." She grinned, tongue poking out between her teeth to show she was teasing. He laughed, shoving at her playfully and pulling her back when he almost pushed her off the step by mistake.

"Well, you're really easy to talk to when you're not being the town kiss ass." He countered with an equally playful smirk, earning a laugh from her in return.

"Okay, fair. I deserve that."

She was still giggling as she polished off her drink, swaying a little where she sat and clearly intoxicated at this point, much to his amusement. Before she suddenly leaned into his space, close enough he could feel her warm breath fan across his skin. His own breath seeming to get caught somewhere in his sternum, body frozen in place.

"Did you know...when you smile, it's like your eyes light up and I can see how green they are. I never noticed before, but it's real obvious when we're close like this. S'pretty shade of green, too.." She relayed this to him in a hushed tone, almost in awe of this "revelation". He felt his stomach do a somersault and a blush creep across his face and neck like a wildfire. He and the word "pretty" had never been used in the same sentence, especially not from the mouth of someone like her. He didn't know how to deal with it.

"Oh Yoba, you are drunk. I think it's time to cut you off for the night." He huffed out an awkward laugh, scrambling to his feet and almost tripping over himself in the process. Brain screaming at him to run away again. Coward. Feeling like an absolute jerk when her expression fell into a panicked one.

"Oh. Oh shit, I'm sorry. That was weird, huh? I'm so sorry, I just said that without thinking. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Fuck. I'm sorry." The words tumbling out so fast they almost blurred together, desperate to apologize for the perceived slight.

"Hey, hey. Relax. It's not you, alright? Me and compliments just don't mix. S'not your fault, okay? Promise." Using the same gentle tone he would when Jas needed comfort after a bad dream, one meant to soothe fears.

Thankfully, she did relax a little, the worried crease in her brow smoothing out. Looking between him and the house a moment before sighing.

"We probably should call it a night, though.." she frowned, almost sounding disappointed. But that was almost certainly just wishful thinking on his part. "It's getting late, I didn't mean to keep you so long. I know Fridays at the Stardrop are a town tradition, and I'm sure Emily's wondering where you went."

"Aaah, she's so busy tending to everyone else, she probably didn't notice I slipped out. Besides..." He rubbed the back of his neck and kicked at a pebble in the dirt, feeling a bit bashful all the sudden. "I had a good time talking and drinking with you."

Her face lit up at that, practically beaming at him before looking away again. Actually twirling her hair around her finger like girls do in the movies, but it was endearing when she did it somehow. "Yeah? Me, too. This was nice. Definitely made a shitty day a lot better."

That shouldn't have made him as happy as it did, but he couldn't deny the warmth spreading through his chest at the idea that he had made her day better just by being there. Her happiness was infectious, he supposed. No other reason for it.

The good feeling was quickly snuffed by the realization of how far he was going to have to walk to get home. All the way back into town, down past the Saloon, past Emily's house, past Sam's house down the path that finally lead to Aunt Marnie's house. Buh.

"You know you can just cut through my farm, right? It's much faster." She piped up again, startling him. Was she a mind reader?? Or was he talking out loud without realizing?

"Oh. Uh. You sure? If my aunt sees me, she'll know I was here and probably tell her whole aerobics class." Already cringing at what stories could be spun up by a bunch of women with nothing better to do than speculate on someone's (nonexistent) love life. She deserved better than to have her reputation hitched to someone like him.

"Eh, let 'em talk. They're gonna do it anyway." She shooed the idea away dismissively, getting to her feet with a groan and meeting him where he stood. "Here. Gimme your hand."

He complied, confused, watching her take off the glowing ring she was wearing and easily slip it onto his middle finger. Feeling heat prickle up the back of his neck as she continued to hold his hand and meet his eyes with a little smile.

"It's pretty dark that way. Wouldn't want you getting hurt tripping over something. Or have you fall in a well." Her tone light and teasing, using something he had said earlier back at him. Seemingly unaware of the affect she was having on him as she absentmindedly stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. He swallowed thickly, mouth suddenly dry, carefully (reluctantly) removing his hand from hers to focus on the ring giving off an absurd amount of light for being so small.

"Don't you...don't you need this, though?" He asked hoarsely, scarcely able to hear himself over his heart doing acrobatics in his chest.

"Well, I'm going to see you tomorrow, aren't I?" She arched an eyebrow at him, an amused smirk gracing her lips.

"Are you?" Had they made plans and he'd already forgotten? Focus! Stop staring at her mouth!

"Unless you suddenly don't live with Marnie anymore. I already told you I owe her some vegetables, and I was gonna drop them off first thing in the morning. Figured I'd get the ring back from you then."

Ah. Of course. She was being "helpful", and he just happened to live where she already had plans of going. It wasn't like she was going out of her way just to see him. That would be ridiculous.

"Right. Yeah, for sure. Guess I'll see you later then." He mumbled, flexing his fingers as if to shake off the lingering feeling of her hand on his. It didn't help.

"Or I can just walk you home?" She offered, tilting her head at him. "Save you the trouble of worrying about if I need the ring or not."

"And have you walk your drunk ass all the way back by yourself? Nuh uh. Don't worry about it. You gotta come by the house anyway, I'll see you tomorrow."

He gave a little nod and turned to leave, only to be stopped by her grabbing the elbow of his jacket sleeve. Swiveling around to glance over his shoulder and give her a quizzical look. She was chewing on her lower lip, eyes downcast but still holding onto his sleeve. And maybe it was just a trick of the light, but he could swear her face was flushed again.

"I wanted to...I wanted to thank you again for tonight." She said softly, the barest hint of a wobble in her voice. Releasing his jacket to tuck her hair behind her ear again. "I really did have a good time. And, um, and couldn't let you leave without saying 'good night'. So, good night, Shane."

"Good night, Katherine." He breathed out a quiet laugh, warmth spreading through his chest again. Putting his hands in his pockets (which didn't muffle the ring's light at all somehow) and beginning the much shorter trek home for real this time, smiling to himself as he walked past a patch of fairy roses growing. He'd have to tell Jas about that, and about the fact "Miss Kat" used to be a ballerina when she was Jas's age.

He could feel himself walking briskly, finding he suddenly didn't care if Aunt Marnie caught him walking from the direction of the old farmhouse. So what if she told people? Would it be the worst thing in the world if people assumed something happened? Not really. And, if he thought about it, he almost wanted to get caught. Wanted people to know everyone's favorite farmer spent time with him. Alone.

Huh.

That...that was an interesting feeling. One he did not have the mental bandwidth to deal with tonight. That was a problem for tomorrow Shane. Or next week Shane.

Or never. Never was preferable. He was too old to be feeling...whatever the hell this was. And it didn't matter anyway. They had just talked, that was all it was.

That was all it'd ever be.

[marcell-arts]

Hey, little songbird

Viago de Riva & Rook, Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook | T | Fluff/Drama/Comedy

When it comes to poisons, Rook trusts no one more than Viago de Riva. Surely he can find out what's wrong with her, before its too late.

---

Or, Rook is pregnant, and Viago is the first to find out.

"Maybe we should just give up," Rook said hopelessly, about a week into their strict regime. She was sitting by the balcony, where Viago insisted she get some fresh air. It was a balmy Summer day, and the sea breeze was lovely, but she was wishing she were anywhere but here. It was getting lonely without her friends, and only an increasingly frustrating Viago for company.

"No, Rook, we are not giving up," he said flatly, not even looking up from where he was annotating her reaction to the last antidote. Thankfully, it was mild this time, but still showed little improvement to her health. "You did not kill Elven gods, vanquish the Blight and save the world, only to die to this bizarre poison." 

She sighed and rocked backwards. "It's been a week already though! How can a poison's symptoms last for this long without killing me?" 

He hummed. "Some effects can last weeks from point of contact," he replied, "Although admittedly, it is strange you are seeing no improvement at all, and no deterioration. One of these ought to have done something." He looked up. "Are you sure you don't have any more symptoms? Anything different?"

"No," she said sullenly, with the petulance of a child, "I still feel nauseous and light-headed every morning. And I still have no energy most of the day." She flung the book she had on her lap across the room. It bounced sadly on the bed.

He sighed and put down his quill. "Rook. You know I am just trying to help." 

"...I know that," she said quietly. She turned to face him fully, suddenly emotional. "Of course I know that. I trust you. I know you're doing everything you can. But I just wanted…" She exhaled in frustration. "I wanted everything to be normal again! I just wanted a break from it all. From saving the world! And now I'm stuck here, and I can't even enjoy a holiday with my friends in the sun! It's just not—" 

"Not fair," Viago finished understandingly, "I know. It's not. You deserve it more than anyone." 

To both their horror, she started crying. Fat tears filled her eyes and spilled uncontrollably down her face. She sniffled loudly and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand angrily. "Maker!" she huffed, "Why am I—I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm getting emotional." 

Viago got up to lend her his handkerchief. While he had never been good at handling women in hysterics, his ongoing relationship with Teia had made him generally more sensitive to their moods. He patted her shoulder a little awkwardly. 

"It's fine," he said quietly, "I know. It's a frustrating situation." But the miserable sight of her had something stirred uncomfortable in his gut.

It wasn't surprising she was frustrated—but it was surprising that she showed it, he thought. Even as a child, she had been good at putting up a positive front. Of course, she trusted him enough to not hide her emotions, but she never liked to worry him if she could help it. To not be able to handle her feelings now… was this also a symptom?

He racked his brain to think of a poison that could cause increased emotional outbursts. It was a bizarre side-effect, but not out of the realm of possibility. Though what would the poisoner be trying to attempt with this? Unless… was it not poison at all?

He glanced at her, blowing her nose loudly into silk he would probably never touch again. If it wasn't poison, then perhaps this was an ailment of some kind. A sickness of the mind? Or a disease of the body? A condition that caused nausea, dizziness, lethargy, and proneness to emotional—

His face went white. His fingers on her shoulder tightened uncontrollably. 

"Ow! Viago, what are you doing?" she winced, shaking herself from his grip. She looked up to see his head bowed, and a fine sheen of sweat on his neck. "...Viago? Are you alright?" 

He wasn't sure what he was going to say. 

"Viago?" There was concern in her voice. 

Viago shakily moved to sit on the armchair opposite her. His hair had fallen forward, shielding his eyes.

"Viago, you're scaring me. What is it?" she whispered. "Am I… dying?" 

"Rook…" his voice was unnervingly calm, but the wild eyes that met hers were not. Piercing blue and wide with fear. "Are you… could you possibly be…" He wet his lips nervously. "...Are you with child?" 

Read the rest on ao3

[mattslilies]

✩ model!reader - models for fresh love ✩

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

you pulled up to the building, double checking the address before you got out of your car and walked in. you'd had a scheduling mishap and your manager had double booked you for the day, so you swore under your breath when you noticed that you were showing up late, and for a brand you'd never worked with.

you'd seen the founder, one Chris Sturniolo, follow you on Instagram about two weeks ago, and after scrolling through his account, you'd ended up following him back.

not long after you did, you noticed him liking quite a few of your posts, and then came a ping from your phone, signaling a new message.

2:16 pm: "love all the shoots you've done, they look amazing. i have a shoot for my own brand coming up, was wondering if you wanted to model?"

you read the direct message, the gears in your brain beginning to spin. you couldn't lie, you thought chris was incredibly attractive, and you almost never turned down a good modeling opportunity.

2:23 pm: "what's the brand? would love to look into and consider it."

2:24 pm: "@/freshlove"

a fast responder, then. you scrolled through the account that he had linked, and while it wasn't the type of thing you normally modeled, you were always up for a little bit of a change, a little step outside of your comfort zone.

just as you clicked out of the page, a new message notification crossed your screen.

2:27 pm: "hope you consider it well. would love to see your face there."

was he flirting with you?

you smiled to yourself, never turning down an opportunity for a little fun.

2:28 pm: "i will. would be a shame to miss out on such a nice looking offer. the clothes are cute too."

your only response was a heart reaction to your message, and just two weeks later, here you were.

slipping your phone into your pocket, you glanced around at all the people bustling through the building, unsure of where to go.

"you showed up."

you spun around, quickly realizing it was chris who had spoken, and who you were now standing face to face with.

"yes, i did. i'm so sorry i'm running late, my manager double booked me by mistake-"

chris just laughed, cutting you off.

"don't worry about it. double booked, huh? you must be popular."

you smiled back at him, a teasing glint in your eyes.

"yes, incredibly so. you should be grateful i chose this shoot over the other one i had scheduled today."

his grin only widened, enjoying the playful banter.

"well, consider me lucky i scored such a high demand model. i'll show you where you can grab clothes, if you'd like."

"after you."

it wasn't a far walk to where the rest of the models were setting up, most of them smiling and immediately welcoming you. you settled in easily, not noticing where chris disappeared to, but putting it mostly out of your mind as you let the makeup artist do her job.

the shoot went smoothly, you being the last one to go. chris coincidentally reappeared just in time to oversee all of your photos, smiling when the cameraman showed him each one.

"how's it look?" you called, that same confident smile on your face.

you'd learned early on that insecurity gets you nowhere, and while you weren't cocky, or egotistical, you were photogenic.

"perfect." he was incapable of hiding the smirk on his face.

the shoot wrapped up, and chris showed up once again as you were exiting the changing room, the outfits you'd just modeled draped over your arm.

"pictures looked fantastic."

"thank you. are they going on the instagram?"

chris nodded. "as soon as i get them, yes."

"tag me in them." you winked, starting to head out of the building after grabbing your things.

chris shook his head, smiling, privately loving your confident but playful demeanor.

"can i walk you to your car, or are you too booked and busy?"

you waved your hand in the air, dismissing the joke with a smile.

"never too busy to have a pretty boy walk me somewhere."

quickly finding your car, you and chris walked over there, generally chatting about both his brand and your job. he seemed genuinely interested, which was a nice change of pace.

"well, this is me."

you felt a slight twinge of disappointment as you held the handle of your car door, having thoroughly enjoyed the day.

chris still held eye contact with you for a few moments, not making any move to walk back inside, before gently pressing his lips against yours.

taken by surprise, but not uncomfortable, you kissed back, feeling his hand wrap around your waist. after a few seconds, he pulled back, that same smirk painting his lips.

"i hope to see you next time i have a photoshoot."

"i'll be expecting a message."

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

a/n: this was a little longer than i expected!!!

[catreginae]

Okay, now that I'm home, I can elaborate on the Mecha AU really liked but I don't have time for! As a disclaimer, it's been a long time since I last watched a mecha anime so I don't even know why it's a thought my brain is even entertaining.

Anyway.

Time - the commander/leader of the team. He can pilot a mech and sometimes helps the others but he doesn't go into the field anymore. He really wants to just retire for good but since he's the only one who can pilot the Deity mech, he's kind of stuck there in case the world is ending and he needed to get in the seat.

Twilight - a pilot! His mech can shift between a bipedal mode and a quadrupedal mode. He never planned on piloting but he jumped into one to help his village and he's piloting since. Kind of a natural!

Warriors - another pilot! He's been training a long time to be a pilot so he is really good at it but at the same time, Time keeps an eye on him since a couple of missions have gone horribly wrong and Warriors had to take some mental health breaks.

Legend - semi-retired pilot, works more behind the scenes now as support/a handler. He stays in constant contact with whoever out on missions and makes sure they get everything they need. He likes to say he'll only hop into a mech if the world is ending but he also likes to tinker with mechs so he's sometimes in one to test out new weapons or programs.

Four - the group mechanic. He's either maintaining or repairing the group mechs himself or he directs other teams on what to do. In his down time, he likes making new things for the mechs. He knows all the mechs inside and out except for Deity. I think he once wanted to pilot but he ended up being more interested in the engineering side.

Hyrule - semi-retired pilot, works with Legend with support. He also supports the pilots himself with minor first aid. Unlike Legend, he does want to get back into the field but his mech got infected with a nasty computer virus and Four hasn't finished trouble shooting it (this is my twist on the blood curse). He's happy to help where he can.

Sky - full time pilot! Like Warriors, he trained a long time to be a pilot. His mech is relatively normal but it uses a sword Sky just kind of found and nobody is quite sure how it works, but it does a great job at killing things. Sky's mech is the best at flying.

Wind - the youngest pilot and a lot of people quest if somebody so young should even be a pilot but he's the only who figured out how the pilot the King of Red Lions, which is one of the only mechs that can function in water. He's young and new but shows a lot of potential, so he's on the team.

Wild - a pilot who had to go on medical leave for a long time and he's kind of figuring everything out again. He was severely injured from a previous mission with a different team and suffers from amnesia. Nobody expected him to ever be a pilot again but here he is! His mech was partially made with the recycled parts from his old one.

People are free to run with this if it speaks to you. You're free to change things up too. I don't have time for it but I still think it's kind of fun.

[astrobookwormsinger]

AGENDA:

enter hellsite app with sole purpose

ignore dash/feed in case it triggers some weird stuff

immediately go to profile

click on palette button to edit profile

erase description cause it was cringe anyway

update my age to correspond as I did with every other social media profile of mine just minutes ago

post this post for whatever reason, only on this hellsite also for whatever reason

leave hellsite app, probably never to return for the next few months

X

[sciderman]

I swear I have read your big post regarding Peter Parker's neurodivergence and why it is best to avoid labelling him, but he definitely has a weird brain

Can't find it and feel kinda sad about it cuz I deeply related to it

i know exactly which post you're talking about and i can't find it either! i've raked through my archive, and it's just - nowhere to be seen. i think tumblr eated it (it happens.)

really, tumblr's search functionality is so so useless, i don't know what to tell you. there are plenty of keywords i can search to find it that post, but the search functionality actually just does not work!

undiagnosed audhd-addled peter parker, my darling, my light, my life, my everything.

i think peter parker's such an interesting creature to write, because a lot of people will point to a certain behaviour about him and say "this is an autistic thing, right?" but a lot of those behaviours are actually, in my head, tied to certain traumas in peter's life too.

people say "oh, the food thing, peter's a picky eater because he's autistic" and yes, absolutely. but also it's tied to his trauma with his parents.

peter gets overstimulated, and yes, it's an autism thing, but also he was bitten by a radioactive spider and his senses are dialled to 11.

it's a similar case i've found for myself, too – where a lot of friends i have kind of diagnose me because i have autistic traits, but actually - i'm hesitant to claim the label or pursue diagnosis because, actually, i know where these certain behaviours come from, and they come from certain traumas. there are events i can pinpoint in my life and say "yep. that's where this behaviour comes from."

so - i think there's a lot of overlap between trauma and autistic traits. the brain is very complex! i think the reason for that overlap is maybe as simple as the fact that people with autism and people with trauma are both doing the same thing - developing behaviours to protect themselves or soothe themselves. so - i think it's nice to be able to see a character like peter parker, who may or may not be autistic, but recognise behaviours in him and see yourself in him.

people who go undiagnosed for whatever reason - people who are really good at masking - so good, in fact, that they have no idea they might be on the spectrum - everyone and anyone at all can look at peter parker and recognise themselves. because i think we discredit the thought that every single brain does the same thing! develops certain behaviours in order to survive. every brain has that same software - we've just all been faced with different hardships that we need to overcome, and that's were all the differences come in.

autism is a spectrum, i guess - everyone falls into it to some degree. and i think events in your life probably push you along on it. but i don't know, i didn't study brain science. probably what i'm saying is very stupid and uninformed. of course there's brain chemistry involved. but i know people in my life living with autism and certain events in their life have exacerbated certain behaviours or made coping with it a lot more difficult. so maybe trauma is a catalyst.

[icewindandboringhorror]

sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:

thing that I already do

thing I have tried 10 times

thing I already do

thing that I don't have the money to do

thing I already do

thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail

thing that is impossible given my situation

thing that doesn't apply to me

thing that I already do

thing I have already tried

hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently

thing I have already done

[naivety]

my sense of urgency for this election was all used up watching a genocide play out live on instagram while my mom continued to talk about which politician might make the housing market better and i tried not to genuinely lose my mind over the dissonance. in all honesty short of bombs dropping on americans' houses my adrenal glands are beyond checked out. i'll show up to the polls and do my part and try to plug into the bare bones direct action i can find in the middle of nowhere deep red county state but god. there are so many posts circulating trying to fear monger me into voting for one genocidal president of this genocidal nation over another and i may as well live on a different planet. i can fathom the urgency but i could not make myself feel it short of being held at gunpoint. which may even be on the ballot but that's how americans have been voting for decades now and each of them regardless of party has worried about the idea of being held at gunpoint while a right of theirs is taken away while there are people who are already being held at gunpoint and their rights have already been taken away by the very people being beamed into my eyeballs as the escape from this hypothetical violence that's already non-hypothetically happened to millions who aren't US liberals because of the america they're trying to save from trump the same america regardless of democrats or republicans or whigs or federalists and does anyone else feel like they're going crazy

[agendratum]

.

[suffercerebral]

me having gone to bed at 6 am every day for the past week and generally spiraling mentally while rotting in bed waking up this morning: a 4 mile hike in the heat is a really good idea right now, and while we're at it let's start like 3 art projects

[pochapal]

i have a cold and a nasty cough and i am not being brave about it

[nobodybetterlookatme]

Mad at my professor again lmao

[bravevolunteer]

it is..... getting very close to One Whole Year Of Consistent Michael Brainrot.