#and i know my uni town so i can get around easy

[yazmarina]

walk me through it

for the love circuit series

—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.

franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases

a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa

Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.

Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.

You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.

This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.

But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.

He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.

"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.

Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"

You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."

"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."

"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.

"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.

You can smell his perfume from where you stand.

"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.

"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."

Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."

"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.

You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.

"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.

The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.

That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.

Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.

So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.

And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.

"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.

"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.

You gulp. Franco smiles.

"Anything is possible this weekend."

-

"You broke the internet last night."

You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.

It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.

Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.

"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."

You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.

But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.

"Hi."

"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.

You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.

"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.

"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.

"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.

"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."

The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.

"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.

"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.

"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.

I will talk to you later.

Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.

-

Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.

P11.

Almost there.

-

"Hi. Come in."

Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.

"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.

Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.

"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.

"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.

Always straight to the point.

Like this morning.

You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.

You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.

Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉

It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.

You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.

Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?

You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.

You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀

It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.

Easy.

"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.

"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.

The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.

You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.

You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.

"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.

Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.

"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.

"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.

You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.

"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.

Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.

"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.

"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.

"Is that your camera?"

You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.

"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.

"Knock yourself out," you say.

Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.

"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.

"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.

You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.

"Just...touch yourself."

You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.

"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."

You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.

The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.

"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.

"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."

Click.

"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"

You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.

"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.

Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.

You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.

Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.

Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.

Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.

It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.

Oh, well.

Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.

Franco. Franco. Franco.

He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.

Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.

"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.

"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.

Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.

Franco chuckles. "Very."

[keepingitformyself]

we might just get away with it (iii)

A/N: sorry for the long wait, truth is life has been life-ing. and uni has also had all my attention. using all this inspo and energy to write as much as i can!!! hoping it lasts me a while. enjoy this third chapter :)

previous parts: part i part ii

synopsis: hollywood is a tricky place for someone new like you, a certain elusive redhead is hoping you can let her in.

pairings: writer!natalie rushman x youngactress!reader

genre: slow burn asf

warning: super slow burn. sorry gang, hang in there.

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

you find out shortly after lunch with natalie that you’ll be set to shoot another film outside the country. samantha sends you a text saying:

cooper raiff wants your number. you got the job.

in the next seconds jenna’s caller id flashes on your screen. an excited exclamation when she greets you.

“guess who you’ll be seeing in new zealand…”

————

5 months later.

the life of an actor is very fast paced.

you’ve spent the last few months in new zealand shooting for another film. you lived out of a tiny home in the new zealand countryside but you don’t ever complain about it.

because why would you? your free days are spent going to local bars in the small town you stay in with cast and crew. jenna, on days off set will make you—and sometimes the whole cast—dinner and you’ll both sit outside your neighboring tiny homes enjoying the evening sky.

you do what you love and you do it with people who you adore.

but,

you’ve also spent the last few months jumping on calls over zoom with your writers room for the series. sometimes with greta, natalie and series producers, sometimes just you and greta or you and natalie.

it’s all really great.

right before your last week in new zealand you do get a call though. it’s natalie and greta, both on facetime. they break the news that the script is nearly fully developed and it’s only a matter of getting everything finalized and ready for production in the coming months.

you’re in the middle of getting your makeup done when you find out. you’re so ecstatic you nearly jump out of your seat. it earns you questioning looks from jenna and auli’i, both girls seeming interested to know what disrupted your peace.

before you know it you’re back from filming in new zealand and catching a flight back to la.

your brain is reeling. the pressure is on. and when you arrive at the airport there’s distant camera shutters as you try to retrieve your luggage.

in the car ride home you get a message from natalie.

welcome back. can we meet before the meeting tomorrow?

and so you do.

natalie texts you to meet at a coffee shop, near the west side of hollywood, she’s typing concentratedly into her laptop when you spot her at a corner table.

“hey, stranger!” you say once you’re in front of her.

natalie looks up in an instant. her eyes shine and her smile reaches them. she’s up and circling her arms around your waist in the next second. her embrace on you is one that you weirdly find much relief in.

“please, sit. i ordered your coffee for you already.” and she’s tucking out a chair across from her for you to sit in.

but you’re caught in confusion at her words,

“how do you know my coffee order?” you ask.

all she does is smile like it’s the most obvious thing ever.

“we’ve been working for so long. i’ve memorized your order from all those meetings with greta and such.”

and all you can really do is laugh because you suppose it’s sort of easy to catch onto something when it’s the same every single time. still, it’s oddly thoughtful, and that thoughtfulness makes your chest feel warm, a sensation you’re not entirely sure how to process.

you sit down, folding your coat over the back of the chair, and reach for the cup in front of you. the familiar aroma greets you, a little comfort in the chaos of the past few months.

natalie’s gaze lingers on you as you take your first sip, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if she’s always been this observant. or maybe, you’ve just been too preoccupied to notice.

“so,” you say, breaking the silence as you set the cup down. “what’s the meeting-before-the-meeting about?”

natalie leans back in her chair, crossing her legs in a way that looks effortless but is probably calculated. she tilts her head slightly, the hint of a smirk playing on her lips. “can’t a colleague just want to catch up?”

you narrow your eyes at her, skeptical but amused. “you don’t strike me as the type to waste time with small talk.”

“fair,” she admits, her smirk softening into something gentler. “i wanted to talk to you about the upcoming season—off the record, before the full team gets involved.”

now she has your full attention. “okay…what about it?”

natalie glances around the café briefly, as if ensuring no one’s listening, and then leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “it’s about your character. greta and i have been discussing some adjustments, and we want your input. you’ve lived in her skin for a whole season. you know her better than anyone.”

her words catch you off guard. “you’re asking for my input? like, before the script is finalized?”

“exactly,” natalie says. “you’re not just the face of the show; you’re its heart. and i want this season to feel like it belongs to you as much as it does to greta or me.”

it’s a compliment so disarming that you find yourself momentarily speechless. you’d been prepared for a critique, maybe some notes on your performance, but this—this feels different. it feels…personal.

“i—i don’t know what to say,” you finally manage. “that means a lot, natalie.”

her eyes soften even further, and there’s something unreadable in her expression. “you deserve it. you work harder than anyone i know.”

before you can respond, your phone buzzes on the table, breaking the moment. you glance at the screen: it’s a text from jenna.

dinner tonight? i’m making that thing you like. bring wine.

you smile at the message but quickly turn your attention back to natalie, who’s watching you with quiet curiosity.

“sorry about that,” you say, locking the screen. “so, what adjustments are we talking about?”

natalie shifts her laptop toward you, opening a document filled with notes and outlines. as she starts explaining the changes, you’re struck by how passionate she is—not just about the show but about your role in it.

and maybe, just maybe, about you.

later that evening, you’re standing outside jenna’s apartment door, bottle of wine in one hand and your phone in the other, responding to yet another text from samantha. the scent of garlic and fresh herbs wafts through the open window, a promise of something comforting and homemade. you don’t have many constants in your life right now, but jenna’s dinners are one of them.

when she answers the door, she’s wearing an oversized sweater, her hair messily tied back. “finally! i was starting to think you ditched me for someone more interesting.”

you roll your eyes, stepping inside and handing her the wine. “because i have so much free time for that.”

“hey, you’re the star now,” she teases, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. “how was the meeting? or can you not talk about it? big, scary NDAs and all that.”

you follow her to the kitchen, watching as she plates roasted vegetables and some kind of stuffed chicken. it smells incredible, but you’re already preoccupied with her question.

“it was fine,” you say vaguely, leaning against the counter. “productive.”

jenna glances at you over her shoulder, her brow raised. “you’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“i’m not lying!”

“then why do you look like you’re replaying the entire meeting in your head right now?” she sets the plates on the table and gestures for you to sit. “come on, spill. was it greta? did she grill you about something? or wait—was it natalie?”

you blink, caught off guard. “why would it be natalie?”

jenna shrugs, pouring the wine and sitting across from you. “i don’t know. you just get…weird when you talk about her.”

you frown, trying to process what she means. “weird how?”

you had previously mentioned natalie to jenna. back in new zealand she'd always wonder who you were having meetings with all the time. the girl got curious, and would ask so many questions. sometimes, she'd be in the same room as you when they happened.

she'd catch moments with you and natalie as well. something jenna thought was just natalie being overtly friendly, but then when you'd look off to the side and meet jenna's eyes, she knew you were thinking the same.

“like you’re trying not to think about her but failing miserably.” jenna takes a sip of her wine, studying your reaction. “she intimidates you, doesn’t she?”

“not exactly,” you mutter, cutting into your chicken.

“she’s a big deal,” jenna continues, unfazed. “a genius writer, total powerhouse, and not to mention—”

“don’t,” you warn, already knowing where this is going.

“—drop-dead gorgeous.”

you groan, covering your face with your hands. “i’m not having this conversation.”

“oh, come on! you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“of course i’ve noticed,” you admit, your voice muffled behind your hands. “everyone notices. but it’s not like that.”

“not like what?”

“not like…that,” you repeat, gesturing vaguely. “she’s like my boss, for one thing. and for another, she’s just—she’s natalie. she’s focused, brilliant, older, wiser, and way out of my league.”

jenna tilts her head, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. “so, you have thought about it. wouldn't it be hot to date someone older than you though?”

you glare at her, but your flushed cheeks betray you. “i'm not talking about this anymore.”

“fine,” she says, holding up her hands in surrender. “but just so you know, if someone like natalie rushman was looking at me the way she looks at you? i wouldn’t be sitting here eating chicken with my best friend. i’d be figuring out what that look means.”

you shake your head, pretending to focus on your plate. but jenna’s words linger, stubbornly taking root in the back of your mind.

does natalie look at you differently? you’ve noticed her attentiveness, the way she always seems to know exactly what to say to put you at ease. but you’d chalked it up to her being a consummate professional, someone who’s mastered the art of making others feel seen.

now, though, you’re not so sure.

jenna grins at your silence, clearly pleased with herself. “think about it,” she says, clinking her glass against yours.

and you do. later that night, as you lie awake staring at the ceiling, your thoughts drift to the way natalie had smiled at you earlier, her voice low and certain when she called you the heart of the show.

you tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything.

but deep down, a tiny part of you wonders if it does.

[oh2z]

roommates. a jebe series

part pre one two three

summary: moving in with your (really attractive) uni friends..nothing too crazy can happen, right?

contents: plenty of suggestive/sexual content ! mdni read and tune in at your own discretion !!

word count: 2.1k (yay^^)

it was your fourth year of uni and you just transferred schools after a little incident happened last year that forced you to move. it was like a fresh start-- except you still had to go to class. (lol no shit)

you were angrily storming toward your first class of the day since you had already taken this class but of course, the credits didn't transfer so you had to retake it. huge waste of time.

you sat down in the closest desk to the door and tossed your bag on top of it, leaning back against the chair and crossing your arms in annoyance. you felt some eyes on you so you glanced over and caught a boy looking at your curiously. you normally would have snapped at him for staring, but he was pretty hot-- his messy brown hair fell over his forehead in his cute, slightly overgrown bowl cut and smiley eyes contrasted nicely with the sharp cut of his jaw and his large hands. you slid your eyes over him top to bottom, letting them linger on the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders. you looked back up at his face to meet his gaze and his eyes widened briefly before he looked away quickly, a little blush creeping onto his cheeks. you turn to front wordlessly, looking away from his with a small smirk on your face.

you had shown up to class hoping that this professor didn't have a strict attendance policy, and to your luck, he does. fuck. you rolled your eyes as your classmates passed the sign-in sheet around, and zoned out for the rest of class.

when the class was over you grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and headed for the door. you had forgot to get coffee beforehand, so you decided to head to the nearest cafe. you felt like someone was following you as you headed down the sidewalk and you threw a glance over your shoulder to see that same guy from class a few steps behind you. his big eyes widened when you looked at him and he looked away from you but you narrowed your eyes and stopped walking, waiting for him to catch up.

he looked like he was panicking, not sure if he should stop or pass you. "you following me?" you asked, tilting your head.

"no! i just... wanted to go get coffee before my next class," he said quickly.

you hesitated a moment, suddenly feeling silly for being on the offensive. "oh. i was going to get coffee too..i'mm kinda new to town and i get anxious in unfamiliar places-- should we have coffee together?" you offered. he blinked in surprise.

"oh! yeah okay sure!" the two of your began walking again, next to each other this time, and headed toward the coffee shop. you each brought your own drink and then you sat down together at a small table. you couldn't help but judge him a little for getting a fancy blended sweet coffee drink, while you had a black iced americano.

"so are you a music production major too?" he asked, sipping his drink.

"no, i'm taking this class as an elective. i'm kind of annoyed actually-- i already took it but the credits didn't transfer. i mean it'll be easy now, but it's still a bit annoying," you complained.

"oh. that sucks." he replied, frowning. you shrugged.

"it's whatever. you know what would make it better though?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"what?" he asked, sipping from his straw and blinking at you innocently.

"if you would write my name on the sign-in sheet for me if i'm ever not there," you replied sweetly.

"we're not supposed to do that though..."

you pouted, looking at him through your lashes and slipping a hand up to toy with the neckline of your shirt. "oh...i guess you're right. thanks anyway."

"i mean-" he said quickly. "it's just that i would have to know what your name was first before i could write it."

you smirked, then pulled out a small piece of paper and wrote down your full name, jotting your phone number under it. then you stood up and handed it to him. he read your name and then looked up at you when he noticed your number. he tilted his head as he read it again.

"your name is--"

"don't call me that," you cut, pointing at the paper. "i go by y/n."

"okay! y/n it is" he said quickly, his cheeks going pink. you had to stop yourself from continuing the conversation-- you were going to be late to your next class. and so you tore your attention away from him somewhat begrudgingly.

"text me your name," you said as you turned away, flashing him a smile over your shoulder as you left the shop. he watched you go with his lips parted slightly in shock and then quickly pulled out his phone, typing your number in and shooting you a text right away.

unknown: hi :0

me: who is this?

unknown: oh sorry lol

unknown: i was supposed to text u my name

unknown: it's taerae!

me: cool :)

you saved his number and then silenced your phone, not really caring if he had said something else after that at the moment. you shoved your hands in your pockets and headed to your next class.

--

you were sitting in the coffee shop working on an assignment from another class when your phone went off.

taerae: hey u comin to class?

you frowned at your phone. who the hell is taerae? you thought. you glanced at the clock, remembering which class your were skipping. oh! music production boy! a smile crept to your face at the thought of him again.

me: no i can't make it today

taerae: did you want me to sign the paper for you?

me: yes please!

you set your phone down and went back to work. about an hour later you felt someone standing over you and you pulled you headphones off and looked up. there was the boy from that class. you blinked at him.

"yes?" you asked. he sat down, sipping his fancy coffee and frowning his cute, pink lips pouting around his straw.

"you said you couldn't make it to class. i thought you were sick or something," he mumbled.

"yeah...what i meant was...i'm not going back to that class. it's a waste of my time." you mumbled back, returning your gaze to your laptop.

"oh. well...the professor assigned homework." he said, looking at you.

you groaned. "ugh, seriously?" you complained as he opened his backpack and pulled out his notes. he took a picture of where he had written down the assignment and set it to you.

"here you go " he said with a little smile.

"y/n-ie" you replied absentmindedly as you opened your phone to check the picture. he perked up a bit at the thought of calling you in a cuter way.

"i can call you y/n-ie?" he asked cutely. you looked up from your phone at him, unable to keep yourself from smiling a little at his happy face.

"hm? oh yeah. you're my music production class buddy, of course you can" you said. he grinned back.

"okay! well um...i'll see you later y/n-ie"

-

you were lying on your bed at home, tuning out the sound of your roommate slamming doors by cranking up the volume on your headphones. you had just finished up the assignment for your music prod. class and you sighed, thinking you had better go to class and hand it in the next day. unless...

me: hey

taerae: hi y/n-ie!!

me: can we meet up before class tmr? wanna see u :3

taerae: ofc just lmk!!

you were so tired and your roommate was really stressing you out. your really hated this apartment, but it had been the only thing available when you moved to town. you sighed and went to bed.

--

you sat at the cafe sipping your coffee and staring at your laptop, feeling stressed about your course load and your living arrangement. you had no way to get your stresses out these days, considering you knew no one in town and that your favorite stress relief activities were best done...with others.

you eyes slide to the door when taerae came into the shop, accompanied with another boy today. he was the same height as taerae, and something about his perfect skin, messy blonde hair, and sleeper-built body screamed daddy. the smiley brunette boy made you feel dominant, but his handsome friend made you feel small and as the two of them approached you, you shook your head against the warring sides of yourself, trying not to get overwhelmed.

they were talking as they came in and taerae seemed to look at his friend in awe, hanging on every word out of the man's mouth. taerae said something that made the other laugh and it took up his whole face. his huge smile make his eyes scrunch and flush appear in his round cheeks. it was nice to look at, and it seemed contagious as taerae smiled as well. he gave you a little wave and his friend glanced at your curiously before they got drinks. once they both had coffee-- taerae with his usual fancy one and his friend with a plain cup, they came to your table.

"hi y/n-ie! why did you want to meet?" taerae asked cheerily, sitting down next to you. his friend took the seat across from you and you couldn't help but glance at him only to find his dark eyes on your as well. something about the man's cutting gaze made you shy and you looked away quickly. digging in your backpack to avoid looking at him.

"i...wanted to give you this," you said. pulling out your assignment and handing it to taerae.

he looked at it for a second and then undersood. "oh, you want me to hand it in for you?" he seemed like he wasn't thrilled about the idea, so you turned your full attention to him, slipping your hand casually onto the table and placing your fingers lightly over his. he looked up at your in surprise at the tough, and you blinked your eyes at him quickly.

"please?" you asked him sweetly, letting your lips pout into a tiny frown as you did so. he swallowed and looked away.

"y-yeah sure," he murmured, a tiny blush on his soft cheeks as he took the assignment from you and tucked it into his notebook. your eyes glanced to his friend again and you caught him smirking and looking slightly impressed at your actions as you slowly retracted your hand from taerae's, trying to keep yourself from blushing under his gaze.

"thank you" you said, smiling.

"of course y/n-ie"

-

after class, you were still at the cafe, scrolling through your phone and ignoring the paper you were attempting to write. taerae shuffled back into the shop, looking annoyed.

"hey," you greeted him, setting your phone down. "what's up?"

"the professor assigned more work today. and i don't think i did the first one right anyway. i'm not getting this class," he mumbled, pouting.

"let me see." he passed you the notes and you pursed your lips. "i guess i could help." i remember this from last semester."

he perked up. "really?? do you want to come over and go over it with me this evening?"

he was cute. you smiled to yourself. "yeah, sure bub" you said.

he blinked at the affectionate name and then looked down shyl. he suddenly seemed to remember something. "oh yeah- um. i have six roommates so. sometimes my house is a little loud," he told you, cringing.

"well i live in a tiny apartment on campus and my roommate is literally crazy. so whatever you've got can't be that bad." you looked at him for a moment, remembering how flustered his friend had made you earlier. "hey that guy from this afternoon...."

"oh matthew? he's one of my roommates! he said you were cute when we left," he said wiggling his eyebrows at you. you felt yourself blush immediately and taerae burst into giggles at the sight. then he frowned, "i think you're cute too," he pouted.

you scoffed, your blush immediately fading. "you don't get to call me cute, you're the cute one" you told him, winking. now it was his turn to blush.

"w-wait you think i'm cute?" he asked, his eyes wide.

adorable, you thought. "whatever. text me your address." you said, right before trying to refocus on whatever you were just working on.

[wwry2018]

Curse of Yes/No

My name was Jace, I was 26 living in the suburbs of Sydney, it was getting close to the end of my year at uni and my girlfriend Sherry wanted me to go out and have some fun. She slid over a flyer for a local festival. A Halloween festival.

We don’t really celebrate Halloween in Australia. But as time has gone on it seems to be more and more present. Decorations being available to buy in stores, kids talking about trick or treating and festivals and street markets advertising Halloween themes.

My friends wanted me to go to one that was on tonight in town. It promised Fall themed food, spooky rides and classic Halloween fun. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to go or not. Usually I let others decide for me. And it was hot as hell. Fall themed food wasn’t what I was looking for when it was 35 degrees c in the shade. But as I said I wasn’t big on making decisions. 

So my best mate Ricky said he would pick me up at 8pm and we would go and have a look. Sherry was working late and said it would be good for me to get out and try to relax. Being a third year accounting student it didn’t come easy. She said go relax just don’t let Ricky get you drunk.

He picked me up at 8 as he said and I climbed in his car, “Jesus man, for a doctor you don’t exactly promote healthy lifestyle  do you?” Smoke was billowing out of he car “it’s my one vice, I know it’s not healthy but hey I’m addicted and I enjoy it” “is that your professional opinion?’ ‘Shut the fuck up and let’s go” we drove towards the fete.

He picked me up at 8 as he said and I climbed in his car, “Jesus man, for a doctor you don’t exactly promote healthy lifestyle  do you?” Smoke was billowing out of he car “it’s my one vice, I know it’s not healthy but hey I’m addicted and I enjoy it” “is that your professional opinion?’ ‘Shut the fuck up and let’s go” we drove towards the fete.

As we walk into the festival it has this classic spooky horror theme of a gypsy caravan.. There are rides and haunted mansions to walk through but mostly it’s to theme. Ricky spots a fortune teller carriage at the end of a line. ‘Perfect” he says. ‘This is what you need. Go get your answers as you can never decide for yourself’. I um’d and ah’d if I should do it or not. Ricky just said ‘exactly” he put $50 in my hand and pushed me in the tent yelling”I’m going to hit on the hot carnie, have fun”

I tumbled inside and looked around seeing a man lounging in a chair having a drink. ‘I’m so sorry’ I said gathering myself.

‘My Friend was being pushy, literally and wanted me to have my fortune read, but I don’t know if I should or not. It’s not a very me thing to do, I mean it sounds like fun and all but, you’re here I don’t see an old crone and a crystal ball anywhere. Haha ‘

Old crone and crystal ball. Well that’s not a very nice stereotype!’ The man said. ‘ but I wouldn’t expect a ginger accountant named Jace to come for a reading in Australian either, so I guess we are even.’

‘How do you know my name? ‘ I said in shock and backing towards the door.

‘We are not all old crones or female, that was just to show you I’m the real deal. Com now sit. Ricky has paid for your thirty minutes, let’s not waste this.’ He says as he walks behind me and guides me to a chair across from him. ‘Hold out your hand, palm up’ I do so in shock and almost trance, I’ve never been a big believer but I always believe  in what I experienced.

He looks at my palm only briefly and starts to speak. ‘ you are not on the right path’. I snap out of it. ‘Really ?” ‘I thought accounting was the right fit.’  

‘Nothing is right’ accounting, your clothes, Sherry. All wrong, because all were not your choice. You simply let others decide for you, so now you are on the wrong path. Ricky. Ricky is the one right thing in your life. He will be the one to correct it. Trust in Ricky. Ironically it will take someone else to tell you what to do to make you get on the right path and choose your destiny’

As I snatch my hand away I get upset ‘what do you mean, all is wrong with me. Who says that to a person. And I love Sherry, I’m going to marry her,…. I think’ ‘I don’t know who you are or how you know these things but it’s wrong.’

As I go to storm to the exit I feel like I’m in a tumble dryer the world spins on its axis. I look back and the Gypsy  is muttering and then spits at me. ‘ I give you a Curse! Not to hurt but help’ as I steady myself he walks towards me. ‘Use this to your advantage, not all curse’s can be detrimental. Until the clock strikes 12. Any question that is asked of a Yes. Or. A No. the opposite will be a reality. It has the power to rearrange you future your past. So be wise young Jace. And remember my words Ricky is the one to put you on a try path. Go now

I stumbled out of the carriage dazed wondering what had just happened. I looked at my watch. It was 9:15 pm. Sherry would be here soon and we can go home. I wasn’t looking and a bumped into a guy. “ watch where you’re going mate!” He yelled. “ hey do you smoke? Can I bum one?” 

As I went  to say no it was as if time slowed down and rewound very quickly to the day in the 8th grade when Tommy Doyle asked me to meet him behind the sheds at school to try smoking, he stole a pack from his dad. I had said no, but in this flash I has said yes. I joined Tommy, I had memory flood through my brain of school and uni and clubs always smoking, my friends were a little bit different to,, Ricky was there of course but they all didn’t seem so straight laced, my clothes seemed to feel looser, darker a little more edgier, I felt slightly more confident and strangely fitter, felt my arm tingle as a tattoo appeared as the spin came back to reality.

‘Yeah sure man”  I think passed him the packet and lit the lighter from my pocket, “ sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going”

 ‘No problem” as the guy walked away I looked back and the gypsy was standing in the door way, laughing.

Something didn’t seem right, I turned to to go taking an another deep inhale on my smoke. I needed to find Ricky and get home to Sherry.

This is the first of a few chapters, let me know if I should continue.

[allwaswell16]

Part two of a fic rec of One Direction fics that have touch deprivation in them as requested in this ask. You can find part one here! If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

—Louis/Harry—

✦ Light, Spark and Fire (series) by green_feelings / @greenfeelings*

(E, 239k, music industry) Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

✦ The Longer the Waiting the Sweeter the Kiss (It's Better My Darlin' I Promise You This) by pleasinglouis

(E, 160k, small town au) Louis is a big city omega that can't stand stubborn alphas and Harry is the southern cowboy that hates the city

✦ Invisible String by BoosBabycakes / @boosbabycakes28

(E, 84k, pack dynamics) Louis swears on his life that that man came out of literal nowhere and he thanks each lucky star for having good breaks in his car.

✦ Your Gift is Wasted On Me by therogueskimo / @bravetemptation

(NR, 54k, neighbors) Omega Louis has severe touch deprivation and is averse to touch. But he’s fine. Really.

✦ You're Not My Type (still I fall) by Imogenlee / @imogenleewriter*

(NR, 38k, farm) Harry is only twenty-four and has no inclination to settle down at all, especially not at the behest of an Alpha.

✦ Follow Your Arrow by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 36k, canon) They said Louis playing alpha wouldn’t affect anything.

✦ Too Young To Know by @2tiedships2

(M, 35k, exes to lovers) the one where Harry doesn’t present as an alpha… until he does.

✦ Compass to my Soul by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 31k, canon) Louis Tomlinson, omega, is 1/5 of world famous boy band One Direction. He spends his time hoping his bandmates don’t notice him.

✦ never been a fan of change, but we’re still the same by fearsparks / @onlythebravest *

(T, 27k, uni au) after Harry's omega unexpectedly causes him to drop in the pub, their relationship is no longer the same.

✦ tread lightly on my ground by fairytalelights / @lookslikefairytale*

(E, 20k, mpreg) the one where Harry is having Louis' baby, but Louis doesn't know it's his.

✦ Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche *

(T, 18k, uni au) Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

✦ how do I stay tender by jessicamcqueen

(E, 16k, neighbors) Louis has touch depri and Harry is the alpha neighbor that offers to help.

✦ Captain Cupid by @2tiedships2

(NR, 15k, friends to lovers) the one where Niall enlists his friends to help start a speed dating side hustle. Things don't go as planned... or maybe they do?

✦ Breathe me in, breathe me out by @lunarheslwt

(G, 14k, candle shop) Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri.

✦ A Fateful Snow by @parmahamlarrie *

(T, 13k, Christmas) Will Harry allow a simple misunderstanding keep him from the hottest alpha he’s ever seen? 

✦ Get Nesting & Soft Knots by ishiplouis / @pocketsunshineharry

(G, 5k, youtube au) AU where Omega Louis who runs a nesting materials Youtube channel meets Alpha Harry who knits his own blankets

✦ Perfect, For Now by @parmahamlarrie *

(T, 5k, neighbors) Moving to a new city is always hard, being away from home, finding your new community - none of it is easy. Dealing with all of this while being touch deprived is even more difficult.

—Rare Pairs—

✦ (I Was Broke) You Healed Me by @fallinglikethis

(T, 12k, Niall/Harry) Niall Horan is an unmated pregnant omega living on his own after his alpha boyfriend leaves him. 

✦ a little tenderness by @disgruntledkittenface

(NR, 10k, Harry/Niall) Harry’s never been around an omega in depri as bad off as Niall looks; most of the time, there’s an alpha friend or family member who can help out with scenting and physical contact.

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: dino + swingset

alternative title: stupid adorable grin

pairing: chan x gn!reader

genre: non-idol au, uni au, friends to lovers

word count: 1435

warnings: none

event taglist: @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @graybaeismytae @karionice @hopetiger10 @shuabby1994 (also @leejungchans pspspsps)

It's been so long since you've last seen your best friend. 

You still live in the same area, but college pulled you apart, with you both travelling and having to dorm in different universities away from your home town, and it's broken your heart to be so far from him for so long. 

So now, now you're finally on summer break, and the only thing you want to do is see his face break into that stupid grin whenever he sees you once again. 

"Chan! Lee Chan! Turn around, you brat, I'm right here!" 

Chan turns around in circles, phone up to his ear, looking for you confusedly. And then he spots you, running down the street towards him, and his face lights up in that stupid, stupid, adorable beam that makes you smile even wider and run faster until you fall into his arms, open and ready to catch you. 

He spins you around in his arms, and wow when did he get strong enough to do that? Your phone is dangling in your hand, the call still connected to his number because you'd been too busy to disconnect, and all you can do is hug him tighter and yelp and laugh as your feet leave the floor. 

"Oh my god," you breathe once he sets you down, not giving him a chance to talk. "Oh my god, I missed you so much."

"You missed me?" Chan says in disbelief. "Y/N, there's no way you missed me more than I missed you."

"What?" You cross your arms, frowning. "Never! I bet I missed you more."

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

You frown at each other, matching expressions of annoyance on your faces, before eventually cracking, laughing and falling instantly into one another in a hug again. 

"It feels like it's been forever since I've last seen you," Chan says, and that smile is still on his face, that bright, loving smile that makes your heart feel like it's going to burst. "You have to tell me everything that's happened since I last saw you."

"What, everything?" you say teasingly as he pushes open the playground gate, gesturing for you to walk in first. "Chan, I'm pretty sure I told you everything there is to know during our weekly facetimes."

He just laughs. "Well, I want to hear it again. In person, this time," he adds. "I like hearing you talk."

And, well, who are you to refuse? 

The playground has been a sort of… cornerstone of your friendship, for you two. It was where you first met. It was where your friendship almost fell apart. It was where you met up, again and again, where you came to spend time away from the rest of the world, together or by yourselves. 

It was also where you realised you were in love with your best friend. 

The realisation had hit you, years ago, while chatting on the very same swingset the two of you were sitting on right now. It had shocked you, then, but only for a little while before the shock had faded away. Loving Chan was easy, as easy as breathing. Loving Chan was as obvious and inexplicable as the spark of light that fizzled in your chest. 

"—almost died in her exam, but I did it anyway," you finish proudly. Chan watches you the entire time, that grin having never left his face, eyes wide as he listens to you intently. 

"Oh, well done," he says, and claps dramatically. You bow your head regally, accepting his applause, and the two of you laugh. "And I expect you did really well on it as well."

You wince. "Okay, since I basically crammed in the two days before the exam and was all loaded up on way too much caffeine, I did… not that well," you say. "But I finished the exam! And I passed! Without killing myself! So I think, all in all, I did really well."

Chan laughs, eyes crinkled, smile big and beaming. "Well, in my eyes, I think you did the best out of the entire world." He ruffles your hair, voice going high-pitched in teasing. "My wonderful Y/N! You did so well, my cutie baby, you deserve all the praise!"

You brush his hand off, pretending to bite his fingers, and Chan just chuckles again. "Yeah, yeah, don't patronise me."

"No, but really," Chan says, laughter dying off, "I know how much you despised that professor. Props to you for getting through her classes. You did really well, I mean it."

His tone is so genuine, so sincere, and all he's doing is telling you something your friends back at uni have been telling you too, but it just feels so much more coming from him. 

Especially when he's looking at you like you were the one to hung all the stars in the universe. 

You duck your head, making a pfft-ing sound. "Oh, it's nothing. That old cow is just no match for the great and wise Y/N, you know?" you say, intending to elicit a laugh from Chan. 

But he just smiles, tilting his head, and now he's looking at you like you're one of the brightest stars in the universe. 

Damn this man and your stupid crush on him. 

And then he tweaks your nose so hard that you squeak. 

"Hey! What was that for?"

"My congratulations," Chan says, eyes wide in faux-innocence. "I was congratulating you!"

You eye him annoyedly, rubbing your nose. "Uh huh." You hold onto the chains of your swing, swaying backwards and forwards. "Anyway, that's all that's been happening on my end since we last spoke. How about you? Anything interesting happen that you haven't told me about through our numerous calls?"

Chan's smile turns a little secretive at that, something soft and mildly mischievous. "Maybe."

Your eyes widen. "Oh? Tell me, tell me!"

"Well," Chan begins, and he looks up at the sky thoughtfully. "I kind of realised that I…like someone."

And instantly your heart is swooping down towards the ground, crash-landing in a heap on the tarmac floor of the playground. "Really?"

"In fact, I think I'm in love with them," Chan continues, and now your heart is trying to burrow down through the ground into the centre of the earth. "I think I've been in love with them for a while. They're just so, so, sweet, so lively and bright and they make my days so much better." He laughs, tugging at his lips. "I just know that I get the stupidest, biggest grin on my face every time I see them."

"That's… nice," you choke out. Your heart has given up burrowing all the way to the centre of the earth and is just lying in a pathetic heap in the shallow hole it managed to dig. Maybe it can be its grave. "Do I know them?"

"Oh yeah!" Chan grins. "You know them really well!"

Well. Who else has Chan been talking to that you know really well?

You swallow. "Who… is it?"

Chan turns to face you now, and he has that stupidly adorable grin on his face, his expression lit up like a thousand suns, and there's so much love and gentleness in his expression that your heart perks up, thinking maybe, maybe, maybe… 

"It's you," he says, and your heart is soaring again like it hadn't dug its own grave a few seconds prior. "I like you, Y/N."

You blink, astounded, and your heart is chirruping happily and your head is spinning and oh God, Chan likes you. 

You're so at a loss for words that you don't say anything for several seconds, and Chan's grin falters. 

"Y/N? Sorry, that was probably really sudden to spring on you. Oh, no, do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? Sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll take it back—"

And then you're launching yourself at him, in a clash of metal chains and knees and elbows, hugging him with all your might. 

"Don't you dare take it back," you warn, and he laughs, adjusting you so you're more comfortable in his arms, hands securely wrapped around your back. 

"Does this mean you like me too?" he asks, wow, wow you still can't believe he likes you. 

"Of course, you dumbass," you say, hugging him tighter.

He laughs, and it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard. And then, after a moment: "Y/N, you gotta say it back."

"Say what back?"

"Say you like me too!"

"Oh. Me too."

"No, say it properly."

"Fine, fine. I like you too."

[aintgonnatakethis]

hi, this may not be the kind of question you normally, but would you mind talking about your experience being trans in the uk? i'm headed there for uni at the end of the summer, and while in many ways it'll probably be better (i'm coming from a very catholic conservative area in the states), i'm kind of scared.

Sorry this took a few days to answer. Originally I thought there wouldn't be much to put here but then I started writing and wow! I have actually had a life, haven't I? 😂 If you have any other questions I'm happy to answer them for you.

I'm going to put this under a readmore because it got so long, but TL;DR: Find allies in LGBTQ+/queer clubs at your Uni, if your professors deadname/misgender you complain to the Uni, register with multiple NHS GP surgeries to doctor shop for a trans friendly GP, same with NHS dentists, if you're socially transitioned and get lucky with GPs you might be able to get a bridging prescription for hormones (details below), if you're faced with medical transphobia know your rights but discretion is the better part of valour.

So all in all I think I've had things pretty easy. I'm a social recluse so even before covid kicked off I wasn't going out or going to school/working a job. It's only recently (since top surgery) that I've felt confident enough to go out and do things and that's because I now pass all the time.

I don't know where you are in your transition or whether passing is even an option (and I also wouldn't say passing should be the automatic goal for all of us - going stealth is just my personal preference) but if people can take a quick look and "clock" you, it will obviously be more dangerous for you. Though I don't think that differs much from place to place; trans people are always in danger if we're outed.

I would recommend looking for any LGBTQ+/queer clubs your Uni might have. Sometimes those groups are awful and they just bleed chronically-online-made-real-life, but sometimes you'll make friends for life. It's important to get a support network going around you I think, as well as know what rights you have through the Uni when it comes down to professors referring you to with the correct name and pronouns.

Talk to the professors first obviously - the fewer waves you make the better - but if some of them continue to deadname/misgender you, stick to your guns. I know it's a tough sounding piece of advice, but if you let them get away with it once, they'll do it forever. Find out who in the Uni you're able to file complaints with. If you need to, do it. Don't take no shit!

If you're on a student visa and are here for more than six months, congrats! You get to enjoy the sparkling joy /s that is the NHS. Something that differs greatly between the US and the UK is that you can doctor shop super easily over here. I'm presuming that Uni=a town at least, so there should be multiple GP surgeries within your range and 2-7 doctors at each depending on the size of the area they're looking after. You're allowed to register at multiple surgeries without informing them you're doing so (and our medical records aren't on a centralised system so they aren't likely to find out). Do that ASAP and then if you run into a doctor who's anti-trans you can just bounce, no questions asked, either to another doctor at the same surgery (which is what I did) or to another surgery altogether.

On a side note I'd also register with every NHS dentist in the area as well, as waiting lists for simple check ups are 6 months long currently. The only thing with multiple registering you have to worry about is if you have an appointment either turn up or cancel it. If you no show they'll remove you from their list entirely.

If you're already on hormones and are looking to continue taking them here, I'm afraid I have no idea what the transfer system is. I know GPs can write bridging prescriptions (hormones while waiting for the Gender Clinic to get through their waiting list) so if you have a diagnosis of gender dysphoria from a doctor in the US then a GP might be willing to do that.

I was referred and 2 years later my GP (who I love and would die for) was like "well this is ridiculous, you're obviously socially transitioned so I'll supply the testosterone for you." She wrote that bridging prescription for 3 years, gel only (which I've stayed on because I have a needle phobia), and blood tests every 3 months (now every 6). While she was writing the bridge she had to check the blood tests herself, but when the Gender Clinic finally got off their arses they're sent there.

A bridge will be a lower dose (ig micro dosing?) than you'd get properly, but it's better than nothing. If you're looking for that, bring proof that you're socially transitioned and have been for at least two years. If you've changed your name any letters/documents are good. I have 7 years worth of shit saved, just like my grandad used to do with receipts so when it came time to do his taxes he'd have everything together. ❤️️

Obviously the GP in question might want to get to know you a bit first before giving you anything, especially if you're looking for T as that can be used for sports enhancing purposes. But without knowing how long you're going to be here, my wait on the Gender Clinic waiting list was 5 years so I'd guess that's not gonna work for you.

Transphobia I've suffered from the medical industry. Right.

First time was before I moved to where I'm living currently and came out in tears to my then GP. She said "you've obviously thought this through" but then did not refer me to a Gender Clinic, thus breaking the law. Me, not knowing the law at the time, did nothing. Lesson: know your rights.

First time where I understood what was an NHS dentist. It was before I started taking T, obviously before top surgery. I did not pass. He came into the waiting room called Mr. <name> and when I stood up the look of disgust on his face was fucking haunting. That was a tough appointment to get through with him sticking sharp things in my mouth, let me tell you. He also informed me my wisdom teeth weren't fully done coming through yet which was why I was in pain, which turned out to be a lie as when I went to a private dentist (massively stupidly expensive wnr) the following month they told me they were impacted and I'd literally been chewing on myself every time I ate or spoke, hence the pain. I haven't been back to that NHS dentist place since, though I do want to get back on their waiting list now I pass properly. Lesson: get second opinions.

No direct transphobia from the private place, though after I'd voiced financial concerns and then said I ate a lot of chocolate, one tech did say "well, after you've paid for today you won't be able to afford that anymore". Unknown whether she said that because I was trans and she wanted to get a dig in or just because she was a cunt. 🤷‍♂️ I was stoned at the time as I do before all dentist appointments so didn't even work out it was supposed to offend me until later.

For the regular blood tests that are required a nurse at the surgery does it. This particular nurse was always fine and lovely to me before I started T and began to pass as a man, suddenly got very weird and standoffish, calling me 'honey' and 'sweetheart', things you do not call young men here unless you're an old woman. The kicker was when she drew blood and (knowing I have a phobia of needles) said "all done" and made sure to wait until I was looking before pulling it out. A few seconds passed and she said "you okay?" in the most vindictive tone I've ever heard. Sadly for her my panic is internal so she got fuck all. The shift times for each nurse are available on the GP surgery's website. She does afternoons, so now I only go in on mornings. Lesson: when you come out, change your name, start hormones, start passing - at basically every step of the process - there'll be people who'll treat you differently for no reason. If they're friends, sit down and talk it out before deciding what you're going to do. If they're not, avoid them.

GP referred me for a hysterectomy. First place turned me down because I'm trans. Second place put me on their waiting list. GP was pissed off.

I won't go into detail about the problems I've faced from the Gender Clinic or the surgeon as that probably won't be useful to you. If it turns out you'll be working with a GC or getting surgery done over here let me know and I'll add stuff.

Good luck at Uni, friend! 🤜🤛

[ierotits]

if u don't mind answering (just ignore if you feel weird about talking about where you live and stuff online) but I noticed you talking on that walkable cities post about living in a village that's well served by the train network and I've noticed you mentioning things off hand in the tags of a few other posts talking about American approaches to stuff vs everywhere else and it's got me interested as someone who's always lived in Europe but has quite a lot of family in Aotearoa, if I understand right you're living in rural France rn? Are you originally from South Island?

I'm always interested when I travel to see how American influences are slightly different in different places and never quite how you imagine before you go. Does Europe seem pretty americanised to you? I know the first time I travelled to Auckland I was really surprised by the approach to cars ect reminding me way more of past trips to America than my childhood in various semi rural places in Europe. Mainly that cars are a lot bigger and trucks and offroaders are more of a thing than i was used to at home and even tho a lot of cars were Japanese, the design seemed really American to me.

Anyway I guess I'm interested in differences in general rather than just city planning/transport. I guess I've just found it interested seeing that cultural leak from America in different ways than I'm used to?? The impact of American culture on Europe was really clear growing up so I think before I got old enough to travel I'd just expected it to be the same everywhere but it really isn't!! It has always felt to me that Australia has a lot more of that American influence in like business spheres?? Politically it certainly seems more American than other countries nearby. Whereas as a whole a lot of European countries seem influenced in different ways (which makes sense considering close distance between countries and the eu and all) But yeah fascinated to hear if you have any opinions on the like having (I'm guessing here?? possibly travelled to Europe as an adult after growing up in Aotearoa???? which is kinda the opposite of my experience)

okay finally going to try answer this bear with. its a good ask!!! putting this below the cut because it could get long

for context on my response, gotta do an overview of my living situation! i am currently living in a medium sort of sized city in france, around 150k population? but i work in a tiny village a 20 minute drive out of town, which is serviced by the train system. from what i can tell, most little villages like that have a small train station that a TER goes through quite regularly, so when there isnt strikes its easy to get to and from the closest city, which is then connected to everywhere else

in aotearoa i live in a city about double the size of the one im in now (wont say which one but im sure it isnt too hard to work out) grew up in a small town, but lived in the city for my later childhood, teen years, and uni so most of my life experiences were there, only came to france last year

in terms of transport, aotearoa is definitely more americanised than europe, as far as i can tell as someone who has not been to america, just spoken a lot on this topic with american friends.

in france, everything is so easily accessable by train. every town and city has a train station, the rail speed means nothing is more than about 5 hours away (my experience anyway). the trains run enough times a day that theres always something (except for the strikes atm but thats a different circumstance.) in bigger cities, there is always a fast, regular, seemingly reliable tram or metro system that gets you anywhere, while smaller cities like mine have a bus system that works, but i never use because nothing is any more than half an hours walk away. i have barely been in a car since getting here, because it really just isnt necessary, the whole system is designed to not rely on cars

for aotearoa, its basically impossible to travel between cities or towns without a car. there are intercity buses, but even between my city and the next closest one, which i know MANY people who make that trip regularly, the intercity bus goes once a day if youre lucky. theres very few passenger trains, and most of them are expensive tourist ones made for sightseeing. basically to get anywhere outside of your city, your options are very expensive slow not regular bus, or get someone to drive you. in my city, theres a bus system that is pretty widespread, you can get everywhere but its expensive, not reliable, and the buses dont go very often except on the very busy routes. if i walked half an hour in my city, i would cross maybe 5% of the city, it was a 40 minute walk to school in high school while it was a 5 minute drive. it got to a point when i was 20 that it was too expensive, took too much time, etc to catch the buses everywhere, that i ended up having to buy a car. the cities, from my experience, are becoming more and more car reliant as the years go on, and all the city does is add lanes to roads

in terms of everything else, i feel like france and aotearoa are both americanised in different ways? politically, france seems to have been quicker at pushing towards this governmental system where your options are far right or center pretending to be left while pushing the country right. france also has similar issues with the militarization of the police force, over investment in the military, gun violence, etc. it doesnt seem as bad as america to me, but then i potentially dont have the full story. while aotearoa has many issues with the police, and an increase in racial bias and violent responses, most of the more extreme american issues dont seem to have developped as quickly. i truly think a lot of that comes down to the labour government the last few years and the changes to gun laws post christchurch attacks. there are, of course, small groups in aotearoa that are leaning towards american ways of thinking, specifically thinking of brian tamaki and his evangelical cult that is directly copying from the american mega church, and the antivax shit that happened the last couple of years

its difficult to really tell to be honest. i feel like in aotearoa, especially with the rise of the internet and online connection to other countries, it has become a lot easier for our population to start to fall into american ways of thinking. i mean, specifically with elections i regularly have to explain to people my age that voting for the green party isnt a throw away vote here like it is in america, the way our voting system works is that you can vote for whichever party truly represents your interest. i genuinely think thats one of the things thats kept us from being pushed further right, the prevalence and strength of the green and māori parties. the revitalisation of māori language and culture has certainly helped too, that we have so many allies helping keep us in the forefront of our country and its politics, we cant just be swept under the rug and ignored. im proud of the way that we have managed to stave off the total disappearance of our culture and instead turn it around to become one of the most visible parts of the country

tldr, i really think both countries have and havent been americanised in different ways. i know less about france as ive only been here a few months, but i do think aotearoa is so far doing what we can to actively work against america's more negative elements being incorporated into out country. just wish we would do that with transport too

[thecouchsofa]

8, 19, 25! love your fics <3

💛🩵🩷💚🧡

8. if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

I have the outlines for two sequels sitting in my docs that I never got around to writing! The more recent one is for my fic Some Nights from last year's Dronarry fest; they were going to be in Paris eating croissants and jogging along the Thames and fucking nasty against those funky little window railings. The only other sequel I planned was a prequel and that was for The Lesson of You; it was going to follow Drarry as they counted down to the time when they would need to start trying to become pregnant with Ollie and agonising over how they would know that it was the right time, how easy it would be to mess it up and not get the kid they'd been waiting five years for, and how they would come to terms with losing him again for the final time (spoiler: they wouldn't).

I don't tend to plan out sequels since I finish a story when I think the narrative has run its course - I don't have a desire to write a few k's of the characters slice-of-lifeing it up because that would be quite removed from the original premise of the story!

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

For my 2025 Dronarry fest fic I have created an entire Western town that is based off of Humboldt Wells, Utah Territory (it burned to the ground in 1877 and was rebuilt as the current town of Wells, Nevada), and I've had the best time researching shit like when the major cholera epidemics happened and how to play Faro. Fun fact: in the mid-late 1800s it cost 5 cents for a pound of fresh beef and 9 cents for a pound of salted. Will this information be relevant in the fic? Absolutely not. One of my uni majors was in history so I'm properly in my element.

25. besides writing, what are your other hobbies?

^^ see above 💀

I love to read (trad pub as well as fic), play the Sims 3 (4 can fuck off), Civilisation 3, and Age of Empires 2 (I have multiple thousands of hours of AoE2 on Steam and my ELO is still ass, you can pry the build order I created when I was 12 out of my cold, dead hands). I also love being outside, but idk if you can call that a hobby - if there is sunshine, I'm there ☀️

✍️Fic writer asks✍️

[truitt-story]

Monday, November 18 — The Character Tour: Create a travel itinerary featuring 10 significant locations from your character’s life (can be in the same town/city, country, or even around the world!). You can do this in a saved Google Map too.

From: tiana@tianasplace.com To: ktruitt@tulane.edu

Hey Keke!

Heard you're all moved in to Tulane— can't believe you're already in uni!!! Seriously, you're making me feel so old.

I'm christening your new university email address with some local recs that I remember from my time in NOLA. Have fun, be safe, call me if you need anything, etc.

Cafe Du Monde for beignets

Yes, it's basic, but it's sort of a rite of passage. And they're good beignets. Not the best in town, but I can recommend them in good conscience. The thing about beignets is that sadly nothing will compare to my recipe (sorry!) but you'll find your own favorite spot in time. For now, go with your first-semester-freshman-year friends that you may or may not stay in touch with later on and just enjoy being adults for the first time.

2. Mojo Coffee for studying and snacks

I know this is across town for you, but when I tell you how many long, long nights studying I spent here... and yeah, there is absolutely studying that you have to do in culinary school. It's not all chopping and sauteeing. I'll spare you the explanation of the history of the sous vide method, but just know that I did a lot of readings here. Get an iced mocha and a banana chocolate chip muffin and thank me later.

3. Tia Maria's for a great first date spot

Or just bring a friend here! But I always thought this place was a little romantic. Or maybe it's just that their pupusas are an experience akin to falling in love. I won't bore you with the whole story but I did have some really lovely moments here, I'll say that much.

4. City Park for people-watching and dog-watching

I went here a lot when I was feeling homesick or overwhelmed. I think something you'll find (not to scare you) is that when you're all on your own in a new place, it's easy to feel alone, even in a room full of people. For me, being completely surrounded by strangers going about their random lives made me feel better for some reason. And dogs. Lots of dogs. Just grab a bench here, watch the world go by. It'll help. I promise.

5. Red Eye Grill for FOOD and NON ALCOHOLIC DRINKS until you are 21

I am officially NOT recommending you a bar. I'm just letting you know that this place is a lot of fun and open late, and once you are of legal drinking age (why is it so late in the US??) you would maybe enjoy a drink here. Many fun nights here in culinary school. And open late.

6. The Superdome for a concert

I DID get very lucky to get gifted Saints tickets once, but I wouldn't count on that. But next time Beyonce goes on tour (she better in the next four years) I'm coming to visit and we're going. Anyway, keep an eye out for cheap nosebleed tickets for other stuff, the stadium's not hard to get to and you'll have fun.

7. St Charles Ave for Mardi Gras

There are actually a ton of parades in different locations all season (Mardi Gras is a season, not a day!) but this was always where my friends and I went. Bring coffees and beignets and get ready to catch some beads! This is when I started really feeling like this was my city. Maybe that'll be another moment for you, but I hope you feel that it's special too.

8. Jamila's Cafe for amazing Tunisian food

You're in uni now! Try new things! My roommate, Nina, and I, we used to literally spin a wheel to try a new restaurant every weekend. Once we tried Jamila's, we sort of started rigging it so we could keep going back there. It's that good. Make sure you save room for dessert, their pastries are heavenly.

9. Fives for a special occasion

Go here with your parents toward the end of the year. Brag a little about how hard you worked. Thank them for everything. And then cover the bill. I know, I know! But trust me, it will be a special memory they never forget. I did it, and I know I won't.

(Get the oysters)

10. Bonnabel Hill for a perfect sunset

Bring a few of your friends and some NON-ALCOHOLIC beverages, also toward the end of the school year. Or maybe save it for graduation. Sunsets are kind of perfect for stuff like this, and this is the best one you'll see in NOLA. I'm not gonna say much more than that, because I know you'll make it your own. And that's what I really want for you. These are just my memories, but I know you're going to make your own.

Love you. Call me. Call your parents. Have fun and be safe.

XOXOXOXO

Tia

[larrysficlibrary]

Smut

Fics that include smut

❥ When You Least Expect It [182k] ♡ LHStylinson

Harry and Louis' son is on a journey of self discovery and figuring out his own sexuality, with some very unexpected turns for the Tomlinson family along the way.

❥ Take Your Time [247k] ♡ LHStylinson

Rosie Tomlinson is the third oldest of the Tomlinson kids and seems to have broken the tradition of falling in love by 18. It's her first year of uni and she still hasn't held a boy's hand, hasn't had a real first kiss. When she does meet a boy though she knows bringing him home won't be easy. Her dad (Louis) will be even more overprotective than he was over her older sister, Alexis. But at least Rosie has her pop (Harry) as help to somewhat keep her dad from losing his head.

❥ Dear Santa [21k] ♡ Snowy38

"Dear Santa...I know you're very busy and you have lots of toys to make but I wondered if this year I could ask for something else. I changed my mind about the puppy and I'd like to ask if you can help me instead." Miss Fields looks mildly bemused as Beau takes a breath. "I used to have a really cool Doctor: possibly the coolest doctor ever and then he went away only he's back and he helped me feel better and I'd really, really like it is I could say hi to him again." "Who was your doctor, Beau?" Her teacher asks. "Dr. Styles," she replies with a sweet smile. Miss Fields glances over to Sam. "He's just come back into town hasn't he? I'm sure we can arrange for you to say hello..." "My Daddy won't let me," she pouts, scratching a nail against her page a little. She's decorated it with glitter in the colours of the rainbow. "We can ask him if it's alright," Miss Fields suggests. "Perhaps he can come with us?" "Oh, can we?" Beau beams, gasping. Her teacher smiles and rests a gentle hand on her back. "Think of something else you'd like to ask Santa for," she suggests.

❥ you go undercover (you cross your fingers) [26k] ♡ forthetherapy

When they reach the top of the steps, Harry puts the buggy down gently. "Thank you," Louis says. "My hero." Harry laughs. "You don't need rescuing," he says. or Louis didn't think that motherhood would be easy, but he certainly wasn't prepared for a certain alpha called Harry appearing each time he needs help until accepting is no longer a difficult thing to do.

❥ i drink the honey inside your hive [7k] ♡ levelofcharm

"Look at me," Harry demands lowly, suddenly grabbing Louis' jaw and forcing their eyes together. Louis' face is squished in between the fingers, wide eyes looking up at him when he sneaks a gloved thumb in the corner of his mouth. He smiles, the finger tugging on his bottom lip and opening his mouth slightly, "That's better, blue." Louis' shoulders hunch slightly at the nickname, neck straining to maintain eye contact, his panties get tighter as his cock hardens at the sight, eyes blinking slowly to ease the stinging tears. Catching a glimpse of the growing bulge in Harry's navy trousers, the standing man notices, tsking and shaking his head disappointedly, "I thought you were going to be good tonight. What happened?" "It's just-" Louis looks up at him again with watery eyes, babbling around the thumb in his mouth, "Haven't got to play with you for so long, sir. I need-" Harry nods sympathetically and Louis cuts himself off. "I know, baby. It's okay." the glove fic

[kelp-eaters-united]

Hey! It's super cool that you're getting into mending - the more folks fixing their own things the better. I'm more-or-less new here myself (I only started mending my clothes about a year ago) so I really understand how overwhelming it can seem. There's so many materials, so many skills, so many methods, and they all seem mandatory. But worry not! Despite the avalanche of information, this is a surmountable problem.

This is not an exhaustive list and I'm sure there's others with more experience than me. If anyone has more information, please send it my way as well.

(this is gonna get long, so the rest is under a readmore)

ADVICE:

Here's some things that helped me out when I was first starting. If they don't work for you, nose around for inspiration that fits what you need.

Your first project may end up looking really bad. Literally no one else is going to notice. I promise. "Hey, I like your pants" "Thanks! I mended this part right here, myself" "Really? You can do that?? That's so cool!"

2. Every article of clothing you fix is one less gone to waste. This is not meant to frighten you. You cannot singlehandedly overturn all of fast fashion, but everything you do accomplish is a tangible bit of progress.

3. Every minute you spend having fun mending is another minute you aren't being sold something. Simply genuinely enjoying yourself is more than worth it.

4. Most tears, even major ones aren't on a time limit. Yes, the more you wear a torn garment the bigger the hole will be. But that just means you make your patch a bit bigger! There's no set expiration date.

5. If it's a huge hole in a major structural area and it looks like eye catching visible mending is going to be too much of a project just... make it ugly. Slap a big black patch over the hole and secure it with a couple layers of stitches. Sometimes practical is better than pretty.

MATERIALS:

You really don't need expensive materials to get started. Fabric construction concerns can come later down the road. All you need to really keep in mind is to roughly match the weight of the patch with the weight of whatever you're mending. Using silk to mend denim will be a huge headache. You can do it, there's no rules.

Stuff to keep around: There's lots of specialty tools that you may want to look into later, but for now all you need is the basics.

1. Needles. Many needles have specific uses, but you can avoid those for now. Just get a thick medium-sized needle with a large eye so its easy to thread.

2. Thread. Embroidery floss can be used as an all-purpose basic thread for doing things by hand. Sashiko thread is great but it can be pricey.

3. Scissors. The stork shaped scissors have an absolute chokehold grip on my heart but they aren't mandatory. A full-sized pair of paper scissors can cut fabric as well as thread.

4. A stitch ripper. If you want to go back and pull out some stitches, a stitch ripper is the way to go. I've pulled out stitches with scissors and with xacto knives and I’ve found nothing better than my $1 stitch ripper from walmart.

5. Pins. Safety pins, round-headed pins, pins from your florist friend, anything will do. All you need is something to hold your fabric in place while you work. I even pinned down my fabric with other sewing needles once, in a time of crisis.

6. Fabric. Everything is fabric. Old shirts, some curtains you were gonna throw away, the cushon from your neighbor's outdoor patio furniture (with permission), the dog bed your puppy chewed up (wash it). Attack the fabric with some scissors and you suddenly have more patches than you know what to do with.

Where to get stuff:

1.Thrift/consignment/charity stores. Buy whatever is on sale in the material you need.

2. Sewing shops. Some sewing shops sell small samplers of mixed fabric they're trying to get rid of. The one in my town has a bundle of five for $5. It's more expensive than bying a full yard but the upside is that you don't have to buy a full yard.

3. High school, uni, or community crafting classes often have scraps left over. If you ask nicely they may let you walk away with an entire trash bag of scraps.

4. Dental floss can be used in place of thread for heartier projects. Not good for fine details, but you may have it in your house already. Free is nice.

5. The ground. I've found socks, bananas, leather belts, whole sweaters, and various t shirts just lying around while walking my dogs. Toss it in your washing machine! Avoid garments that look caked in mud or like they've been rained on too long since the effort it takes to wash might not be worth it. Also keep an eye out in case it looks like someone is coming back for the item. If there's work gloves in a construction zone, someone probably wants em back.

6. Walmart, or whichever large store is in your area. There's no shame in buying yourself a $5 starter sewing kit just to get basic materials. It'll have some cheap scissors, a stitch ripper, some buttons, a measuring tape, and maybe a thimble. You can find packs of pins on the same aisle. BOOKS: If you've got access to a public library near you these can gotten for completely free. Ask the help desk if you don't know where to look for what you need. You can also ask about Inter Library Loans if your library doesn't happen to have the book. (You can also acquire pdfs of many of these online if you're cool with piracy)

If you just can't make that work, no worries! There's no shame in ordering these books online and having them shipped to your door.

Mending Life: A Handbook for Repairing Clothes and Hearts by Nina and Soya Montenegro Really great for starting out. Covers several common methods of fixing holes and has step-by-step illustrations that explain things better than most books I've found. The hardback cover has a cool texture to it, too. I often open the book to the page I want and search youtube for a video on the same method. That way i can go back and fourth between the two if I just don't understand.

Modern Mending by Erin Lewis-Fitzgerald This one's great because it uses photos of the author's actual hands. I struggle with illustrations because it's hard for me to think in 3D space which is why I like youtube videos. I disagree with the section on "essential equipment". It's a bit intimidating since the author has an array of fancy tools that you may not find you need. Other than that, though, this is a great resource to keep around. It's useful to help you get ideas on how to mend things other than just pants. ONLINE RESOURCES:

Wasteless Crafts is a great blog to go to with questions. They cover more advanced topics like garment modification, but they have a whole section for bare-bones-beginners. If you're super stuck, their askbox is always open. They have great links to outside videos to help you learn a technique you're struggling with.

Made Everyday has helped me a ton whenever I've needed to pull out my (bad, old, cheap) sewing machine. The host is lovely and encouraging. She explains what she's doing and goes into detail as to why it is that she's doing what she's doing. Hit up the search bar on her channel and she likely has a video explaining how to do what you need doing.

I hope you find some of this useful. Mending can be a relaxing and rewarding activity but I know that there's so much to learn. It can seem like you have to know all of it right now before you can even start. You don't. Pick up a needle and make an ugly patch!

I really want to learn how to sew, but I'm very overwhelmed. I'm afraid of practicing on most things for fear of messing them up and wasting them. I'm really the kind of person who needs someone teaching me and available to answer my questions, but I don't have anyone for that and there's several reasons I'm apprehensive about finding a class (the most rational of which are my lack of income and COVID, but social anxiety is also a factor).

I know there's guides and videos online, but I always get so overwhelmed and usually don't know where to start because all my ideas are abstract, abstract to me specifically (because I don't know how fabric construction works), or difficult and/or risky enough to scare and/or confuse me out of wanting to do it.

Does anyone have tips for teaching yourself to sew? How do I practice without being wasteful?

[buckets-and-trees]

💜- top 3 favorite lines

💻- three works of yours that are must reads

⭐️- how do you get your inspiration?

ask game list

THANK YOU FOR THE ASKS, EM! I may or may not have gotten carried away with the answers...

💜- top 3 favorite lines: THIS WAS HARD AND EASY. Sometimes I'll know if a particular

“In future you kneel for only me, no one else.” from Consort Namor x Reader, smut, post Wakanda Forever ....this line iykyk AND I KNEW WHAT I WAS DOING WHEN I WROTE THAT

“Maybe I was tired of better. Maybe I decided I wanted easy. Besides, some of this is so much better.” from The Ashes In My Wake dark!Daredevil x Reader, non-con smut

“You can’t stop me from getting what I want, and this world has already taken so much from you, so why not get something you want?” from hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have dark!Wanda, Bucky x Reader, non-con/dub-con smut

....and sometimes I don't write smut, but honestly I guess I mostly always write plot with smut or smut adjacent

OH WELL

💻- three works of yours that are must reads

Witchview [1.3k] Reader insert (witch!reader), Steve stays in the present after Endgame, post-WandaVision, smut, magic, manipulation, dark-ish This I had the concept just spring up and fall out of my head REALLY quickly, and it was so fun to explore. It was for a 1300-word challenge, so wrestling down the word count while trying to maintain all the plot I needed to get across was difficult but satisfying. Aaaaand I may or may not be actively working on fleshing it out into an entire saga with the before and after.

Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree [3.4k] Reader insert, king!Steve, Royal AU, smut, fluff Writing this one was very immersive for me as I tried to convey a very particular narrative that I wanted to convey specific emotional moments with. And it was another one that moved along very quickly once I'd conceived the idea.

The Brooklyn Boys [12-part drabble/one-shot series] Reader insert, Steve, Bucky, fluff You know when Infinity War came out and then those of us who were in the fandom at that time had to wait A WHOLE YEAR to find out WHAT IN THE FREAKING HELL WAS GOING TO HAPPEN but now no one ever has to fully suffer that ever again? This series was kind of like that. It was the first stuff I wrote and posted to create this blog and start being part of fandom again, and I knew exactly what was going to happen in all 12 parts, and there's a Particular Plot Point reveal that once it happened, the comments I got were OMG I WASN'T EXPECTING THAT BUT OF COURSE. But now that it's all published, there's no real avoiding it without sacrificing the practice of properly tagging everything appropriately (which I wholeheartedly support).

⭐️- how do you get your inspiration?

Songs, prompt lists, challenges, watching or reading something that spawns me to start playing around with an idea for something else... I have a very analytical mind but with lots of creative energy, so almost anything can inspire me. It's definitely more to do with whether or not I have the mental capacity to dedicate to creative projects or not. My undergrad was English with emphasis in Creative Writing (my uni you had to pick Creative Writing, Non-Fiction, or Poetry for a focus) and once I was done with my last year in particular, I'd had to put so much concentration into writing projects that I was done for like eight months, just needed a rest. A year later I moved from a part-time job into a full time position that also necessitated a move to a new town, so between trying to learn a new job, I was also trying to build a new life, get settled into a new apartment, and by the time I started having free mental energy again, it was around the time I also needed to start considering a graduate degree, so that then took up ALL my extra time for two years, and I had reading/writing burnout again after that.

My early fandom days I did a lot of missing scenes/alternate scenes/background characters/rare pairings stuff, "what if" fics, sequel fics, and in HP dove heavy into Marauder Era stuff. Now it's pretty driven in there being so much open to play with in the MCU fandom from the gamut of "missing scenes"/moments between films to fix it to fill the time between now and the next film to just pure AU exploration because I'm enthralled by some of the characters that it's just... idk. Some writers will probably always be more popular and gain followings more easily than me because they can hone in and do one things (whether it's a character or a genre or a fandom) really well and maybe by not splitting their focus so much can tame the muse a little more easily to be able to write more consistently for their readers...

But I adore exploring so many different ideas, and for me the ebb and flow of different muses and plot bunnies I think helps me to stay motivated long term, because some thought while I'm driving or in the grocery store or folding laundry will pull me back to the writing in general, and I'm less likely to get stuck trying to figure out one thing.

[freesomebodybyluna]

...

[draslihanxfahri-bailey]

"That is a fair point. Though, I suppose from an anthropologist's perspective like myself, the past is important to study and there's still so much we can learn from it. After all, new discoveries are made every day that help us learn about daily life in the past, which could help us link how we got from, say, a horse and carriage to vehicles. While also, from the things we already know about, we can use those as a reference to stop ourselves from repeating past patterns. Or, at least, try to. Not everyone does and we've seen the results. I guess what's so fascinating about history is that it's being made every single second." Of course, Asli could understand why there were people who didn't understand history nor believe it to be important. And frankly, she blamed it on how history has been taught in schools and how people can easily twist information to change things. Sometimes making it hard to distinguish which is real or not if one didn't have the resources to differentiate, or if a person even cared to try and figure things out.

Chuckling softly, she rubbed the back of her neck. "I get it. I use to teach World History at one of the high schools in town before teaching a few courses at the uni. I think the problem with trying to teach history is that the Standards emphasize more on the dates and timelines instead of the people who lived during that time and went through those events. I grew surrounded by history; My dad's an archaeologist and I grew up traveling with my family around the world. I spent more time at excavation sites and museums and connecting with the locals than in my own homes. I've always been fascinated by the civilizations and the people behind it all. From nobility to the everyday man, trying to figure out how they felt and what they might've been going through. You can learn a lot about a person and their past through their favourite items. Like, for instance: people always talk about Pharaoh Tutankhamun's gold and lapis lazuli mask, but did you know that he was a lover of ducks? A couple of his clothing items from throughout his life had some kind of duck motif somewhere. It's stuff like that that makes me love history so much. It's not always easy and sometimes I get so frustrated and upset, but I learn. And learning all of that has helped shaped me into who I am today." ||📜@mereking

"I don't like to live in the past. I mean when I think about History, I think about all the things that have happened to the world but also I'm just like why does it really matter in the end? What matters about what got us here and instead shouldn't we be focused on the here and now?" Meredith let out a breath, her hand moving to run through her blonde locks. Maybe if she paid attention during History, she would actually like it but she got good enough grades to pass; not enough to really enjoy what she was learning. As the other woman talked, she listened. She could tell just how passionate the other one was about the subject and something about that made the woman smile. Not many people she knew or hell even didn't know were passionate about anything so it was like a breath of fresh air for her. There was a lot that she didn't know about the subject and something about the way that the girl felt inspired by it as well as people she knew, it was nothing like she had expected. When the woman finished her spiel, the smile on her face grew. "You don't have to apologize. I think it's kind of awesome that you are that passionate about something. I guess I never really understood the depth of how far or how important history can be." She leaned forward on her elbows and sipped her drink. "What made you get into history?" (@draslihanxfahri-bailey)

[aredheadedmess]

Pied Piper || JJK [8]

Summary: Y/N L/N, an investigative journalist for the Daily Bullet, usually doesn’t see much out of the ordinary; A missing person’s case gone cold, an old case reopened and solved with updated technology, the thrilling excitement when another puzzle of one of the biggest serial killers is cracked. But when an old file resurfaces, she brings back a past that should have been burned with the file a long time ago.

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter Warnings: One swear word, talks about disappearing children, allusion to the paranormal and unexplainable things, this is also a very dialogue heavy chapter. let me know if I missed anything

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Mystery/Thriller, Paranormal, Strangers to Friends

Chapter Rating: Pg-13

A/N: I'm back! I'm sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out 😓 I lost motivation to do a lot of things, and when I finally got back to writing this, I scrapped my original idea and rewrote. I can't tell you guys how many times I rewrote this haha... and then uni started up again so I unintentionally pushed this to the side. BUT now I'm back and I hope to finish up this series soon! There's a couple of major things that I want to happen before it ends, so look forward to a couple more chapters! I hope you like it! 😊

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

6 September, 20XX

It shouldn’t have taken you as long as it did to get here; standing on the front porch of the most recent disappearance victim. After your talk with Jungkook, you knew there was no easy way of approaching the subject with the woman. The questions you needed to ask demanded so much from the person answering. So you kept to yourself.

For the past two days, you kept yourself tucked away in your room. You paced the floor, thoughts running a mile a minute about everything that had happened so far. From when you first drove into town, to the heavy conversation with Jungkook a day prior. You tried to find the best way to ask the questions to get enough information in return without hurting the victim even farther than they already were. But there really wasn’t an easier way.

The front door slowly opens only far enough to peek outside; the chain on the top of the door restricts it from opening any more. Martha peeks through the crack. You smile gently at her, hoping she will recognize you from when she saw you a couple nights ago. She offers a small smile in return.

“Hi, Martha,” you begin slowly. “Is it alright if I come in and ask you some questions?”

She nods, almost frantically. She shuts the door, and you can hear the frantic movements of the deadbolt being shifted around before the door swings open again.

“Sure, sure.” She waves you in. “Yes, come on in. Would you like something to drink?”

“Water is just fine, thank you.”

As you enter the house, Martha nods towards the living room seating. You make yourself comfortable as she grabs a glass of water for both you and her.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you.” You smile. “Please, get comfortable.”

You gesture to the couch opposite the one you are on. Waiting until she gets settled in, you review the notes you’ve already made in the file you brought along with you, preparing your pen to take any more notes. You take a deep breath. Hopefully you can get all the information you need to get your foot in the door in this investigation.

“I was hoping to ask you about what exactly happened two nights ago?” you ask slowly.

“Of course.” Her face hardens into a look of determination. “I am willing to answer anything to find my daughter.”

“Thank you. Now, can you describe to me how you found out she was gone?”

Martha sighs, leaning back into the couch. She clasps her hands in her lap and fiddles with her thumbs.

“Well, it was two nights ago, as you said. I had been home after work for a little while, preparing to make dinner for the two of us.”

You nod and tilt your head in curiosity.

“Where do you work?”

“I’m an antique dealer at a pawn shop in the next town over. I work eight to four on the weekdays.”

Martha smiles at the thought of her work. She must seem to really enjoy what she does.

“Okay. And you mentioned ‘the two of us’. Is it just you and your daughter?”

“Yes,” she hums, nodding. “Her father left us when she was little. It’s been her and I since she could walk.”

She looks up at you, waiting for you to ask another question. Instead, you gently nod your head, letting her know she can continue her thoughts. Martha glances back down at her restless hands. She clears her throat, licks her drying lips, and takes in another breath before speaking again.

“Well, I went upstairs to check in on her, and know her plans for the rest of the night. When I made it to her room, she was at her desk, working through the most recent packets for her classes. We had talked for a few minutes before I went back downstairs to continue working on dinner.”

“So you had seen and talked to her before she disappeared?” you ask.

“Yes. She seemed completely fine.” Her brows furrow as she shakes her head slightly. “She never mentioned anything alarming. Her and I have a really good relationship where we try not to hide anything from each other.”

You nod. There is a moment of silence between the two of you as you write down some of the key notes. The only sound being the scratching of the pen against the paper. Your eyes lift up as you finish, nodding again for her to continue.

“I was in the kitchen in the middle of cooking when I heard the radio suddenly playing.” Her head tilts in the direction of the kitchen. Your eyes follow, catching a glimpse of an old radio, weathered from the many years of use. “I thought it was just Ayesha, but when I looked over, the room was empty. I thought it was odd at first, but the damn thing is so old that it will sometimes turn on by itself. I didn’t think anything of it until I realized what it was playing. It was something that I’ve never heard before. We always leave it on one station, so when it does turn on, it’ll play that station. It’s never once changed to a different one.”

Your eyes never leave the radio. Standing up, you walk towards it.

“Is it this one, here?”

“That’s the one.” Martha’s voice is close behind you. She must have gotten up herself as you made your way to the radio. “I had walked over to it to turn it off, but when I got to it, it wasn’t even on in the first place. But, it still kept playing this odd tune. Something like a flute playing through the speakers.”

You study the radio. The bright red paint is wearing off most of the antique. The knobs on the front have been used so much that the sides are worn down enough to see where your fingers should hold them. The glass covering the frequency indicator is slightly scratched when the light hits it just right. You glance around to the back, noting that it had been modified to use the house’s electrical system to stay powered. Though, when you look down at the wall socket, there is nothing plugged in.

“Did you unplug it?”

You glance up at Martha, an eyebrow raised in question. She nods as she looks at the outlet herself.

“Yes. I was trying to get it to stop playing. But nothing changed even after unplugging it.”

“That’s odd.”

Your brows knit together trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe the radio has a backup battery for when the power is out, to keep it playing. But when you glance at the back of the radio again, you realize there is no way a battery with enough power of any size could be hidden away.

Leaning down to plug the radio back in, you wait for any sign of electrical problems. Perhaps there was just a short after having it plugged in for so long. You aren’t an expert of the topic, by any means, but maybe if you could find where the problem might be, there would be at least one thing explained away.

“I remember hearing the stories that the folks around here would say about the disappearances,” Martha utters. You lift yourself back up to face her. “You know, the old tale of hearing faint music drift through the air, something that no one else hears but the person that will disappear. I didn’t believe it all at first. Mostly because it was all of the elders saying it, which you know, sometimes they aren’t always in the right space.”

You hum. Even from the short time working on this case, you read and heard most—if not all—the folklore surrounding the disappearances. Martha meets your gaze, a stone cold shiver running down her spine, and a flash of fear in her eyes as she begins to recall what she experienced.

“But there was something that just clicked in me once I realized that I couldn’t turn it off. I knew that it was the Piper’s music. The same music that was in the stories. I can’t tell you how fast I ran back up to Ayesha’s room. I opened her door, hoping that she would still be in there, at her desk. But the room was empty. As if she had vanished into the air. Everything was left like she had just stepped out to use the bathroom or something. The only weird thing about the room was her window.”

“Her window?”

“Yes.” Martha’s voice is stern. “She never has it open during the night. It gets drafty in her room, and the open window doesn’t help. Especially on cooler nights like that night.”

You glance up to the top of the staircase, as far up as you can see from the position you’re in. In the darkness of the upper floor, you can make out the beginning of a door frame just past the top of the last step.

“Is it alright if I took a look in her room?” you ask.

“Yes, of course. Follow me.”

Martha leads you to the staircase, flipping the lightswitch on the wall beside it to light the way. She takes a hesitant first step. Grabbing onto the railing, Martha ascends the stairs with you in tow. The boards creak under the weight, and one stair in particular screeches loudly as if it were shouting in agony. You glance around once you make it to the landing. There are three doors, one of which is wide open, showcasing the simple hallway bathroom. Martha pushes open the door nearest to the stairs.

“This is her room.”

The bedroom is just about as big as the studio apartment you use to live in during your college days. A twin bed is situated in the corner beside the window, its purple sheets crumpled slightly from someone sitting on the edge of the mattress. The closet doors a foot or two away from the foot of the bed. A small desk, papers and books scattered across the surface, sits up against the wall on the opposite side of the room from the window. The chair is pulled out and twisted as if someone had just stepped away from the desk. Your eyes glance over to the window where a light breeze is gently tossing the light purple curtains towards the center of the room.

You take a step into the room, skimming through the contents of the papers on the desk before making your way to the window. You lean down to scan the frame and stick your head outside, memorizing the view. You can see the top floors of the school several blocks down, and the old general store is just down the street from where they live. Pushing yourself back into the room to face Martha, your eyebrows furrow. One brow lifting in question.

“And this is exactly how you found it?”

She nods. She plays with her fingers as she avoids any eye contact with you, barely even looking at any of the things in the bedroom.

“Yes. I didn’t touch a thing. When I saw she was gone, that’s when I came running over to find you.”

“How did you know about me, anyway?” You tilt your head as you ask.

“It’s not that hard to find a new face roaming the empty streets.” Martha shrugs. “My daughter had mentioned about a woman who looked to have been collecting information about the town, so I had assumed that you must have been a reporter or something. And the Jungkook boy has the only place that would make sense to hold a new visitor.”

“I see,” you hum, glancing out the window one last time.

You step closer to Martha with a gentle smile resting on your lips.

“I appreciate you taking the time to answer my questions. I hope that I can give you the answers you need,” you speak with sincerity.

Martha shakes her head, stepping toward you herself and takes your hands in hers. A hopeful look takes over her features.

“No, thank you. I know that you will be able to help this town. I have a good feeling about it.”

“We will find her.”

“Thank you.”

You shove your notes and dead laptop into your backpack. The duffle bag for your clothes lays open on the bed, a couple of items still lounging about.

“What are you doing?”

Jungkook’s sudden presence startles you slightly. He’s very quiet, you’ve come to learn, showing up out of the blue when you least expect it. He leans against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest.

“I’m leaving,” you mumble, still preoccupied with packing to give him anything more than that.

A scoff rings out in the air. You furrow your eyebrows and glance up to where Jungkook stands. A strained smirk is painted on his face. His tongue pushes into the inside of his cheek. “I knew it. You’re just like the rest of them. Promising that you’ll help, only to leave this town in the dust once you get confirmation that we are just a bunch of hopeless cases.”

You quickly stand up from your crouched position on the floor. Getting up in Jungkook’s face to tell him your thoughts has become a lot easier the longer you’ve been here. So when he stumbles back slightly from the sudden close proximity, you feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. Though, you don’t focus much on it as you briefly explain why.

“I need back up. I’ll only be gone for the rest of today, so stop jumping to conclusions. You don’t know how hard I’m trying to keep the promises I’m making.”

Jungkook must have sensed your tenacity as he steps back, raising his hands in surrender before turning away towards the living room.

He wishes you a safe trip back into the big city.

The closer you drive to the town’s borders, the heavier the air feels. It’s as if there is an invisible force field over the town and the energy from it continuously affects you negatively. It doesn’t help that there is a dark storm rolling in over the mountains as you drive away. You can hear the rumbling of thunder from the inside of your car. It’s going to be a big storm.

As your car creeps up to the town boundary, you catch a glimpse of something dark from the corner of your eye. You turn your head to see what it is. Your eyes grow wide. Standing behind the welcome sign to the town, a dark figure seems to wave at you in the shadows. Though it has no distinct features, it looks as if it is grinning widely at you as you pass by. A cold shiver runs up your spine.

“What the f- Shit!”

As you turn back to face the road, a small herd of deer sprint across right in front of you. You have to slam on your brakes to stop you from knocking through the innocent animals. You manage to stop inches away from an unsuspecting dear. It’s frozen in the middle of the lane, staring your frantic form down. Too close for comfort. After taking a moment to catch your breath, you honk, sending the deer into a slight frenzy, and scaring it away. You glance through your rear view mirror at the sign as you start back up again, but there is nothing there.

“Yoongi!”

A head of shaggy brown hair whips towards the sound of your voice. Yoongi’s face lights up as he recognizes who you are. He rushes to stand in front of you, a look of worry taking over his face. He eyes you up and down like a worried mother, looking for any kind of injury.

“Y/N? Where have you been? It’s been a month. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” Yoongi spits rapid fire questions at you. You both have joked in the past that he should have become a rapper with how fast he speaks sometimes.

Confusion is written all over your face. A month? You had only been working on the case for a week and a half at most.

“No it hasn’t? It’s only been like two weeks.”

“You’re kidding, right?” he scoffs.

“No? My phone’s been dead, but there’s still no way that-”

“Ms. L/N?”

Your eyes light up at the sound of Namjoon’s voice. Turning to face him, you rush out what you needed to ask of him.

“Perfect. Mr. Kim, I need all the help I can get.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, a strong gaze watching your every move.

“Are you still working on that case? We have tried everything we can to help that town.” He shakes his head absentmindedly. “There’s nothing else we can do.”

“No.”

Both Namjoon and Yoongi look at you like you’re crazy. Did you just say no to the boss? Taking this case changed you quite a bit. Before, you would have never faced Namjoon the way you are right now. Before, you would submit to whatever Namjoon had told you to do as he would take over and close up most of the cases you worked on. Some of the surrounding employees must have heard or felt the shift in the air as they stare at the three of you without even trying to hide.

“I won’t take that as an answer,” you continue. “I need anybody that I can get. Forensics, paranormal, literally anyone.”

“Look L/-”

“Mr. Kim,” you interrupt.

Your voice is unwavering. Your feet are planted into the floor as if he is trying to knock you down with his words. Your eyes bore into his, trying to get your message through his thick skull.

Namjoon takes in a breath. He closes his eyes, bows his head slightly, and raises one hand.

“Fine. It won’t be very many, since most departments are busy with their own cases, but I’ll let them know. Min, go with L/N.”

A smile creeps up onto your lips.

“Thank you, sir.”

You walk up to the door of Jungkook’s Bed and Breakfast, bags in hand, and Yoongi on your tail. Before you step up to the porch, you turn to Yoongi.

“Be aware that you may not get the warmest of welcomes.”

Yoongi’s brows crease and a small pout forms on his lips.

“What do you mean?”

Without another word, you face forward again and walk up the steps. The front door swings open before you have the chance to ring the doorbell. Jungkook looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You call your boyfriend your backup?”

You push through the door, forcing Jungkook to move out of your and Yoongi’s way to get inside quickly. The sun is beginning to set and you didn’t want to stay outside any longer after what happened earlier in the day.

“One, he’s not my boyfriend,” you call out as you walk through the house to get to your room. “He’s got a fiance. Two, there will be others coming tomorrow. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

You glance back to see Jungkook grumble out something under his breath at your last few words. He takes one quick look at you, then Yoongi, rolling his eyes before speaking at you rather than the person he is referring to.

“He can take the room next to yours.”

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