#but also idk if anyone is still reading that fic. but in case someone still is i mean. I might as well try to feed them

[anxioushorrornerd]

Give me the strength to finish this oh my fucking god

[the-real-couchrat]

Post ending / rescue AU / recovering Curly is everything to me, so I’m making a list of other people’s posts that feature him. (The links will connect to a reblog of them in case anything ever happens to the original post)

If anyone ever see’s posts like these ones, PLEASE tag me in a reblog!! All posts are welcome, not just art!

Please note that I don’t decide what to add to this list based on shipping, opinions on the metaphors in the game, the accuracy of burn scars, the morality of Curly, or anything else that causes discourse in the fandom. I just add any posts that I come across that include Curly recovering from his injuries in any way. Prosthetics, wheelchair, wig, crutches, It just needs to have him in better shape than when he first got injured.

No NSFW

(Also this post is edited to add new ones when I find them)

Rehabilitated Curly

Party with no Jimmy

Stand around in medbay party (Idk if this counts, but he has prosthetics so I'm saying it does)

Happy abortion!

Post-ending speculation (text)

20 years later (I AM NOT WORTHY TO LOOK UPON THIS WITH MY MERE MORTAL EYES)

ANYA’S GRADUATION DAY

Post ending

Rescue/Recovery AU

My own post! (text)

Aftermath Curly

Good ending

Best way to approach captain’s disability?

A little sketch

They care

“I wouldn’t want to frighten her”

Anya doesn’t quite overdose

They’re safe

Guys rate my fanart

WWI face prosthetics

Less fucked up Curly AU

Fix-it type AU

Silly recovering time

Curly got some gifts for his b-day

Imagine Curly survived (twitter)

Curly with a service dog

I’m not a dog and you’re not a mare

Drawing the dentalcare crew (does this count?)

The quality will not be questioned

Fix-it AU

Want to make Curly some cool new mechanical hands so he can strangle Jimmy

One can dream

He’s got a wig now

Happy ending where they all survive (devianart)

It hurt my heart (twitter)

God forbid I get sick (translated?)

This might be controversial but… (text)

Let’s get you out of the house!

Cyberpunk AU

Cartoons with breakfast

Old-school surgeries (text)

Post-ending fic prompt (text)

Post-rescue AU curlyana

Post-rescue curlyana part two

Why is this goddamn white boy so hard to draw?

Captain stop infodumping the baby

Maybe never forgive

Draw Captain Curly having a prosthetic limb

Curly from Mouthwashing (good ending)

This is how I imagine Curly post OP

whats the worse fate, whatd be better for the tulpar crew

Wip

🐈

Mouthwashing AU (Reddit)

Curly if he survives (Reddit)

My own art

I’ll give him smoochies, prosthetics, and skin grafts

Art dump time✨

Hoppin on da trendin train

The crew built curly a mechanical hand

How to give Captain Curly a voice (idk if this technically counts, but it’s a disability aid so I will)

Doodle of the Tulpar crew post-rescue!

New hyperfixation just dropped

Hi Tumblr. Funny seeing you here

Another rehabilitated Curly

Who up washing they mouth rn

Don’t use the dog buttons (text)

Haunted part one and two

Prosthetics

AU were someone saves them

Mouthwashing doodles

A New Ladder-Reader x Curly (I’ll add the original art videos when I can) (also I didnt read it. if someone did read it, please let me know if it’s SFW)

I know he always have his headphones on

More rehabilitated Curly✨

You guys like this right

Anya, what’s it like working as a medic on a spaceship?

This is how we can still get the good ending

“I’m sorry Anya”

More cringe mouthwashing art be upon thee

Curly’s happy (and recovering) ending

Writing an AU of mouthwashing where the crew survives

Most people seem to be giving him prosthetics…

Doing a bit of study

2

Ladonb Kokosa (TikTok account, LOTS of great videos )

Giving the mouthwashing characters what they deserve (TikTok)

Zest for life

Edit: I am no longer seeking out these posts, and new ones will only be added if I’m tagged or such

[inkblot22]

Truss

Woohoo Malleus woohoo! I'm making the trigger list a bit bigger because I keep thinking about how people will totally skip reading it if it's too small and then blame the writer for their own mistake. That shit is clown behavior but I don't want to be held responsible for someone else's case of stupid, so sorry to those of you who think this looks clunky. Line divider found here: @/cafekitsune. This is also a fic that is wildly self-indulgent, in that I mean that while writing I visualized my own physical form and quirks.

That being said, this fic is written with afab (assigned female at birth) readers in mind. No pronouns other than you are used for the reader, but the reader does possess a womb. Reader's chest is not described in the least, just the lower bits, and even then it's not at length. Malleus also refers to the reader as "beauty," but masculine people can be beautiful too so idk but here's a warning anyways.

This fic is DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. TW for noncon, fae interaction rules used for said noncon, slight bullying if you squint, one (1) mention of blood (I'm beginning to think I have a problem.) Stay safe while reading. Possible OOC Malleus, I haven't read any of book 7 and if you spoil it I'll block you temporarily.

This is absolutely not your fault, and you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. It’s awful. Crewel was for sure his namesake, because this whole thing was a steaming pile of-

Alright, from the top, just to organize your thoughts: you are the only non-magic student in a school of mages. The teachers are mages. Your best friend/roommate/monster friend is a mage. The plants here can do magic, but you? No. Thanks homeworld. Love the gift of nothing.

Thus, the faculty have seemingly created a game of “how to piss off and challenge the magicless student,” in which they give you various tasks to just make you lose sleep. Vargas had you running laps until your legs felt like jelly, doing pushups until your shoulders started sounding like glowsticks. Trein had you learning completely off the wall trivia, such as what type of fabric the Queen of Heart’s favorite bathrobe was made of and why it made her more powerful. That’s nothing, it’s easy because you apparently have so much free time in their eyes. But Crewel? Fuck that man. 

When you got the assignment, it sounded fun and exciting. He gave you seeds for a fast-growing rose thing. Honestly you weren’t paying attention to the name of it, but you retained what you needed to know. The plant only grew in moonlight, so you needed to cover it before you went inside at night. It needed a minimum of two hours of moonlight to grow per night. If the basket was overturned and it was exposed to the sun, then the plants would die. Moderate watering, no fertilizer, the usual.

Once the plants bloomed, you were supposed to take the flowers and make some kind of glamour potion, so here you are, failing at doing so. You only had four flowers, and you’re down to the last one. You wasted three tries and you still have no idea what the hell you’re doing wrong and it’s due next alchemy class and you’re breaking curfew on top of all of it. You glare into your cauldron with your latest failed attempt and hunker down to shoulder against the side so you can dump it out and try again. 

“Oh, it’s you.”

The voice makes you jump out of your skin. You turn around and you almost want to cry tears of joy, because if anyone can help you, it’s him.

“When I saw a little head duck down, I thought that something strange was happening. A crime, perhaps.” Malleus smiles, and it’s not a kind smile, but you’ll take anything remotely positive at this point, “What are you doing on the floor, child of man?”

“Oh, I have to empty the cauldron.” You puff out, still trying to throw your weight to push the cauldron. You did it twice earlier, so this must be the effects of mental and physical fatigue.

“Oh, that’s right. Allow me.” Rather than waving a hand or anything, Malleus strolls on over and uncrosses his arms, taking one hand and pressing his fingertips against the lip of the cauldron. The whole damn thing tips, the failed mixture pouring out into the nearby drain. With the same ease, he tilts it back and turns to you.

When he looks at you, it’s… weird. You know he’s lizard-like, as dragons evidently are, but even Sebek’s eyes aren’t this jarring. They aren’t soulless or cold or unfeeling, but it feels like he is looking through you. His emotions don’t reflect in his eyes properly. That’s what it feels like. They reflect, but it’s wrong. Fractured. His lips quirk into a smile and you blink.

“Uh… wait, what are you doing out here, Tsunotaro?” You ask, turning to gather more materials, following the transcript of your recording from class.

His smile grows, “Just on a walk. Will you tell me what you’re trying to make?”

“Uh, yeah. This glamour potion? I don’t know. Remember how I was growing those flowers?”

“Of course. And what happened to the rest?”

“I… uh… I messed up the other potions. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong here.”

“No?”

“No. Do… do you think you could maybe… help me?”

“Of course.” Malleus plucks the flower up, twirling it thoughtfully, “Why don’t you gather the other ingredients?”

That was simple enough. Petals from your tediously grown blooms, some kind of floral oil with tiny white flowers inked on the label, a ball of clay no bigger than a pea, something that really resembled a severed finger, something that was hopefully just someone’s baby tooth, a handful of crystals in a rainbow of colors, and water. Lots of water. Malleus watches as you put all your ingredients on the nearby table and hums thoughtfully before dimming the lights and turning back to you.

“And where did you hear that you needed these things?” He asks. It’s not something that he says with any indication that you’re right or wrong. The tone is bland but the words say enough. 

He has essentially told you before that he believes you inept, a babe in the woods when it comes to this sort of thing, but it doesn’t stop you from looking as hurt as you feel, “The headmage visited class and gave me some pointers?”

“You personally or the entire class? I don’t personally recall concocting anything like this when I was in your grade.” He says.

You suppose you’re grateful that he’s so blunt, but his flat tone makes the sting of your failure that much sharper. You thought he’d be nicer, since you two are sort of friends, and Lilia has told you that Malleus is fond of you, but it also makes just as much sense for him to refrain from easing up in his flatness because he supposedly thinks so much of you. He thinks you’re an idiot, but he’s not willing to treat you as such.

“The whole class. And no one else in my grade is doing this.” You mutter, staring at your assortment of items on the table.

He approaches the table and plucks up the beaker of water, twisting it in his hand, “Did you distill this?”

“What?”

“Tap water often has various minerals in it. If you haven’t been using distilled water, you’ve been adding an extra ingredient. Typically, most potions are much more forgiving and you can use tap water with little issue, but this particular potion is known to be disagreeable.” He murmurs, crossing the room with your beaker of water and setting it up to distill with a practiced ease. “That’s why it’s typically saved for fourth year students’ aptitude testing.”

The revelation hit you like a ton of bricks. You’d like to protest but it unfortunately makes sense. Malleus looks over at you, somewhat blandly, then turns around to face you, looking half concerned.

You answer his question before he can ask, “I didn’t… know that. I guess it’s my fault for being from a different world…”

His lips twitch into a smile, and for a moment you can see amusement in his eyes, fractured with the underlying coldness, “Oh, it isn’t. It may be your fault for failing to ask questions, but having someone who is unused to this type of work take on an advanced project is cruel.”

“You think so?” You ask, voice lilting with hope.

“Of course I do. Why you’re expected to make a potion of this caliber is beyond me.” Malleus states blankly.

“Uh, yeah. I- I don’t know either. But thank you for helping me!”

His expression flinches. It lasts for less than a second before it smooths into an odd grin. You’re not quite sure what that means, but you’re too happy to stop and think about it. The water finishes distilling and you carefully begin crafting, using the tips Malleus occasionally mumbles towards you. Don’t put that ingredient in yet, stir clockwise, you need to grind that up with the oil, don’t rush you have time, et cetera, et cetera, and then you have a gorgeous violet mixture, glimmering with a pearlescent golden sheen.

Your jaw drops. Somehow the few ingredients you threw together is enough to fill several bottles. Malleus is making a smug face as you rush to the shelves of empty bottles and choose several fluted bottles, quickly using a ladle to deposit the final, successful potion into the bottles. You’re so giddy with your success that you hardly notice as Malleus walks towards the door and locks it. But only hardly.

“What was that for?” You ask, not actually caring. You’re too happy to be worried.

“Oh, we’ll need privacy.” He responds.

That part confuses you enough into caring. You turn around from where you’ve safely wrapped the bottles and slipped them into your bag and shoot Malleus a frown, “Privacy? For what?”

Malleus doesn’t say anything. He walks over to the table and you feel your body stand up, void of your control, and stagger over to stand in front of him. If you were concerned before, you’re frightened now. Malleus looks down at you with his strange gaze and folds his arms.

“Wh-what’s happening?! Why can’t I move?”

“You really don’t know?” He asks. Something about his tone sounds mocking, but you’re certain he doesn’t mean it to be. It’s his version of sarcasm, he’s spoken to you like this before.

Your body hops up on the table, taking a seat, and Malleus turns to stand before you, looking down at you with a soft smile. You shift your hips- what the fuck is going on- and Malleus very gently hooks his hands in the pants of your dorm uniform.

Your dorm uniform is legit whatever the hell you want it to be, so it would change on the daily. Today it was a pair of jeans and a hooded jacket. He kneels to remove your shoes and stands back up, leaning close as he tilts your chin up. His breath fans over your lips.

“You didn’t tell me that you were so lovely beneath your clothes.” His hand on your chin shifted to your cheek, and his other hand laid flat on the table. “And… your smell is much stronger. Are you aroused?”

“You can’t just ask me that! I don’t know what you did but you’ve got to let me go.”

“I didn’t do anything. This is your doing.” He retorts, pecking your lips very chastely. 

“What are you talking about?” When he didn’t respond, instead pressing the tips of his hand that was on the table against your exposed sex, your heart jumps but your body doesn’t move. You can’t, “Don’t do that!”

“Lilia informed me that making someone climax is similar to binding someone to you.” He mumbles, kissing you again as his fingers slowly slip inside. “It makes them fall in love with you. Isn’t that the most binding contract of all?”

You don’t know why he isn’t listening, but even less than that, you don’t know why he thought you could handle two fingers, much larger than your own, penetrating you. You squeal, but your body is incapable of tensing. Malleus pulls back, looking at you in a soft confusion.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“With me? What’s wrong with you? That’s too many- it’s uncomfortable!”

He blinks at you and withdraws a finger, which feels much better. You sigh. If you’re going to be forced to do this, you may as well not get hurt in the process. You close your eyes and Malleus hums.

“Is this better? You’ll have to forgive me. I haven’t had a dalliance with a human before.”

“I- I don’t think I’ll be able to… to forgive you for this.”

“No?” You can hear his smirk and the squelching noise as he pumps his finger gets louder. He slips the second finger in again and the burn isn’t so bad as last time, “Well, maybe you can decide that for certain after the wedding.”

“The wedd-” You have to bite your tongue to keep from moaning. Your body leans back, laying on the table, and your gentle assailant curls his fingers, leaning forward to mouth at your neck, “There’s not gonna be a motherfucking wedding. You’re-”

You can hear his horn scraping against the table, “Hmm. I didn’t think you were so entitled. You’re squeezing around my fingers. Are you close?”

“No!” You’re a liar. A ragged gasp leaves your throat and you feel the drop in the pit of your stomach, the burst of euphoria traveling up your spine as his thumb presses against your clit.

Malleus laughs, then leans up off of you. The sound of clothing hitting the ground is the first and only warning you get, but you can’t move, so it might as well have been silent. You feel something on your stomach, coming up about a half inch below your belly button. It’s… almost cool to the touch. You would think it would be warmer, but it’s not. Your eyes round as you stare at the ceiling, and Malleus’s face leans into view, his eyes boring into yours as though he’s reading your thoughts.

“You’re very warm. I’ve always thought this. You must be boiling inside.”

“I- what?”

He doesn’t respond, leaning back up. You feel the velvety head of his cock press against your entrance and as much as you want to jolt away, you can’t move your body. You can’t even look down to see what he’s doing. Your lashes flutter as the stretch sets in, the pressure worse than his two fingers. It burns, especially along the bottom, where his weight lays heavy thanks to gravity. You’re capable of wincing and letting out a whine, but nothing else.

“H-hey, that- that hurts.” You babble.

“Does it? You are squeezing me like a vice. I’ll stay still for a moment so you can relax some. Let me know when it stops hurting.” It’s very peculiar. Although he speaks with an animated tone, his voice is often detached. You would think he’d have more emotion since he’s inside of you.

You blink rapidly and decide that now is as good a time as any to ask, “What the hell is happening?”

“Must you tease me so?” He responds, his voice tense.

“What? I’m not teasing you. I can’t move!”

“Of course you can’t. You only just bound yourself to my will.”

“I what?” You shout.

“What, did you think I enslaved you? I could have, when we first met. You’re too free, giving people your name, thanking them, taking gifts freely… it drives me mad.” You feel a flash of heat, something warm rolling against your skin, like standing too close to a gas stove, “And now I find that you didn’t even know? I didn’t think you were such a fool.”

“That’s just called being polite!” You protest. “Oh my god-”

“I suppose I can’t blame you, really. Relax, lest I harm you.” He murmurs, rolling his hips further as though he can slide in deeper. 

You squeak, “N-no, that’s-”

“Too much, yes. Tell me, in your world, do faefolk exist?”

“I- I mean, if they do, most people don’t believe in them.” The oddity of the situation felt like a blanket. Having a semi-conversation while your friend- not after this- used you as a dick holster. It was almost comforting. “I don’t- I don’t understand.”

His voice was deeper than normal, an underlying rasp to his voice, as though it was coming from somewhere deep in his throat, “I will explain. I’ll tell you anything you’d like to know. But after I explain, I will begin to move.”

“H-hey, no-”

His voice sounded choked, half strangled as he stifled a groan, “I apologize for not being clear earlier. Among the fae, verbal contracts are common and binding. You do not give someone your name. You wonder why I never directly gave you mine? It is a way to bind someone to your will. You do not accept gifts. Invitations are fine, but a gift is a sign that you owe someone something. My help- a boon- is a gift. Typically it is repaid with another kind turn. And, most importantly, you do not thank someone without the sufficient power to break their hold.” 

You felt him draw back, that wave of heat rolling over you again, and then he slammed forward. The slick noise and dull smack were muffled by your squeal, his cockhead punching your cervix like it stole from him.

“Foolish little thing. I suppose it makes you cute.” He sneers, and your body sits up, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

The angle makes his motion a bit less painful. He’s no longer bumping against your cervix, thank the Seven, but the stretch remains. Your eyes flinch shut and Malleus tilts your chin up to kiss you again.

“St-stop- stop!” You whimper, “You’re hurting me!”

“If you would relax, beauty, that would not be a problem.” His chuckle is dark, the squelching from your coupling making a wicked duet that makes you feel dizzy, “And you said it to me so easily as well. Thank me again.”

“Wh-” One of his hands slipped under your hips, holding your bottom just under the split in your cheeks, and nipped your neck as a flat thumping echoed from where your bodies met, your legs bouncing with the motion. His member had gone back to bullying your cervix, and you wailed in the hopes that he would stop, “Thank you!”

“Heh… it escapes your lips so freely. Tell me, beauty-” He cut himself off with a grunt, panting against the column of your throat. “Tell me, what is it that you’d like? I would give you the world on a platter, should you want it.”

“I- ow! Y-you’re hurting me!”

There was a possibility that he was getting off on the pain he was causing you, just as much as there was a possibility of him not understanding that he was hurting you. With every motion of his hips against yours, despite the wicked pain, you felt that ever evil tug in your gut, like a stone growing heavier and heavier. 

You tried again, because if this had to happen, if you were under his control now, you may as well not get injured. You would not be pissing blood if you could help it, “It’s too deep!”

He listened. It was odd, but he listened, his voice warming as he slid back a bit and continued ramming into you, but no longer beating the hell out of your internal organs.

“I didn’t realize. Is that better?” His voice sounded warmer, echoey against your shoulder. His teeth grazed over your skin again when you didn’t respond. He choked out your name and you sort of came back to yourself.

“U-uh- I guess?”

“Wonderful.” He mumbled, his free hand reaching between your bodies and slicked with your sweat, to tweak your clit.

It should be embarrassing, how quickly you reached your height. Whoever he had been with in the past couldn’t have been so sensitive, since you felt his body jerk against you, an uncontrolled undercurrent to his motions. You let out a quiet, squealing moan and barely even felt the break when Malleus bit you to muffle his own groan. You didn’t feel him climaxing inside of you. You felt the control return to your body and flopped backward onto the table, your hoodie damp with sweat. Malleus took a step back, then carefully redressed you, then himself. You looked up at him and saw nothing but adoration in his eyes, not the fractured appearance of such. It was like he was actually looking at you.

When he spoke to you, leaning forward to cup your cheek, his voice was warm, warmer than ever, “Now, let’s start planning for the wedding, my beauty.”

[pepsiboyy]

idk if you take fic requests! but maybe a fic based off of Greek God by Conan Gray. like Matt or Chris pretend they don’t like yn where they’re around their sport (whatever sport, you choose!) friends. they all have a really high ego and are cocky. but there’s a tension between M/C and yn bc they used to be friends until M/C got popular but yn didn’t so now they’re not friends cuz M/C let his popularity status get to him. but they sometimes speak on the down low (M/C doesn’t wanna be seen talking to yn) they’re families are family friends which is why they’re technically forced to still talk every once in a while. but eventually the tension gets too intense, and well, M/C can’t handle it anymore and it ends up turning into a childhood friends to enemies to lovers type story 🤭 ALSO, YN STANDS HER GROUND AND DOESNT LET M/C GET HER THAT EASILY, SHES NOT JUST GONNA FALL FOR HIM INSTANTLY CUZ HE FINALLY STARTS PAYING ATTENTION TO HER!! thanks!!

GREEK GOD.

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: just read the request :p warnings: cursing, mentioned of alcohol, being drunk, use of y/n lol, angst (resolved sorta) a/n: THANK U SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST!!! i hope it's what you were looking for, i spent a lot of time trying to make this work :") thank you so much for the request!!

i stood at the edge of the ice rink, my hands clasping together with high hopes.

i came to cheer on matt and chris, with nick seated beside me as he scrolled through instagram and snacked on some chips that he brought.

nick was my best friend, without a doubt. i told him everything. matt was one of my comfort friends. someone i didn't talk to as often as nick, but enough to where i feel fully comfortable talking to him about whatever may happen. chris, on the other hand...

chris was chris.

it was hard to describe the dynamic the two of us shared.

chris and i actually used to be closer than me and nick, or anyone, honestly.

he would pick me up when i fell, give me some of his snacks and even a sip of his pepsi if i wanted. he would reassure me when i felt low, and even put me in my place if he knew i was out of line.

before we knew it, high school rolled around. freshman year was relatively normal, sophomore year too.

junior year he started making newer friends, but he also had a different lunch period from the rest of us. i'd only really see him when matt gave me rides home.

senior year rolled around, and chris was a changed person. ever since he made it to the varsity hockey team with his new friends, he changed. he claims it's because we "grew apart" but we didn't. he goes out of his way to make me look bad in front of his friends, or even act like he has no idea who i am. it kind of made me feel stupid.

matt being on varsity with him didn't help his case at all, either.

so, when i came to watch them play, nick would sit with me and i would cheer on them both, even if chris pretended to hate me.

so, here i am. standing at the edge of the rink with nick, who was now standing beside me as we watched the two we knew and loved. matt effortlessly weaving past a defender, sending the puck flying towards chris, who sent it into the goal and made it.

the sound of skates cutting through ice was sharp in my ears, and the bright arena lights cast a glow over everyone while each and every cheer echoed in the cold air.

i remember when we all used to skate together freshman year here, the arena empty and our arms all linked together because i couldn't skate for the life of me, on matter how bad i tried.

those days felt like a lifetime ago now.

you had all grown a lot since then.

apart, apparently.

"hey, y/n, what are you doin' here?" a boy from the team questioned, skating to the glass with a cocky grin. "came to see the champ?" he asked, referring to chris.

i rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, allowing my eyes to trail elsewhere. "just here to support my friends." i mumbled.

chris glanced over, his expression neutral, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes - guilt, maybe, or recognition of the unspoken tension between them. before i could look away, he turned back to his friends, laughing at some joke i couldn't hear.

i sighed and took a seat beside nick again, letting out a soft hum as i did. the familiar sting of hurt and anger was beginning to get to me.

the memory of chris and i being inseparable, chris changing, chris making fun of me to his friends, all of it. it hurt. popularity inflated his ego, and i always refused to be an admirer in his little fan club.

after the game, i found myself lingering near the exit of the rink. i typically waited for the crowd to die and the traffic to slow down before leaving. it was too busy for me.

the locker room door swung open, and out poured the hockey team that was riding out the high of their win. chris was among them, laughing loudly and tossing his hockey stick over his shoulder. we met eyes for a moment, and his smile seemed to falter. until he leaned to a friend of his and nudged them, mumbling something to make them both laugh.

"hey, y/n!" chris called out. "didn't think you'd stick around here. still obsessed with me or what?"

i stared at chris with a deadpanned expression. "stop getting me to stroke your ego, christopher." i bit back, trying to keep my voice steady.

this shit was annoying, really.

chris's friends snickered, and he shrugged it off, turning away as if i were nothing more than an afterthought to him. "whatever. let's get out of here."

the group moved past me, their laughter seeming to echo in the hallway. i felt a lump form in my throat, but i refused to let anyone see me get upset over something to miniscule.

i knew this version of chris was a facade, but that didn't really make it hurt any less. the boy i once loved and cared for deeply was now buried under layers of arrogance and bravado, and i wasn't about to let him off the hook so easily.

the crowd began to die down, so i gathered myself and pushed out of the door, making my way towards my car.

as i walked towards the car, i saw chris again, this time with his brothers as they leaned against their minivan and talked about the game together.

for a moment, chris looked up, and our eyes met. there was a flicker of something in his gaze - regret, maybe, or a silent apology - but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

he mumbled something to his brothers before he kicked off and made his way towards me.

"need a ride home? matt can take you." his tone was casual, but strained.

i stared at chris for a moment in disbelief, before quickly shaking my head and sighing. "no thanks. i can manage."

chris opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it, looking away. the silence between us stretched, and it filled with all the things left unsaid.

and with that, i turned on my heel and began walking home.

saturday. the days where the sturniolo household invited me for dinner were so much fun, genuinely. they were an amazing family. and chris typically acted normal around her when she was invited over.

i pulled into the driveway of their home, smiling softly to myself as i turned the music down. i pulled down the mirror and fixed my hand, humming to myself before taking my keys.

i was wearing something pretty cozy, just a crewneck and some bleached jeans and converse. they were like my second family, no need to get fancy.

i knocked on the door, where matt answered and pulled me into a hug of greeting. "hi, y/n," he breathed and smiled softly before leading me further into their home, where i was met with nick, marylou, their mother, and jimmy, their father.

"where's chris?" i questioned, the words falling from my lips faster than i could stop them.

nick exchanged a look with matt before he shrugged. "not sure, he just said he was going to some hockey party for their win last night."

i scoffed and nodded, taking a seat in my usual spot between nick and marylou.

the empty chair across from me was honestly quite intimidating. more than it would have been if chris were there.

chris was always the one with crazy stories and conversation topics.

we sat in a comfortable silence, though, which i'm sure nick and matt enjoyed as they listen to chris every day of their lives.

"you're still goin' to their hockey games and cheerin' em on?"

marylou questioned, and i turned to her and smiled. "yeah, they're really great, actually." i smiled softly, and marylou nodded.

"i know chris has been on a bit of an ego train, i hope he's still been kind to you guys." jimmy mumbled softly.

i swallowed and rubbed the back of my head. "yeah, he's been great, actually." i lied.

nick and matt stared at me, but decided not to question it before continuing their meal.

but then my phone began to ring, and everyone's attention shifted to me.

"i'm so sorry," i quickly mumbled as i removed it from my pocket and immediately felt every bit of air in my lungs leave.

why is chris calling me?

i rose to my feet and held up a finger, chuckling nervously. "i'm gonna take this," i mumbled quickly.

i made my way down the hall and to the front room. "hello?" i questioned softly.

"y/n/n," chris slurred on the other end. "i- i'm at a party, and.." he trailed off before giggling to himself, "i might.. need a ride home," he mumbled.

i sighed, rubbing my temple in annoyance. "where are you?"

chris mumbled an address, hardly coherent. "can you... can you come get me? please?"

i sighed to myself. "why can't you get matt or nick or something?"

"they'll get pissed," he stated, a little clearer than the rest of his sentences. "i don't want them to worry about me." chris struggled to get the word worry out of his system, making me crack a slight smile.

"fine," i stated as i fixed myself, "stay put. i'll be there soon."

i hung up the phone and made my way back to the dining room, where everyone collectively turned to me.

"everything alright?" nick asked, and i quickly nodded.

"everything's good, i do have to go, though. i'm so sorry you guys. i'll make it up to you?" i smiled. "i just, um.. have to run."

they all exchanged looks before nodding and bidding me farewell, nick walking me out.

i sat in my car and typed the address into my phone, rubbing my forehead.

i didn't enjoy parties. they were loud, sweaty, gross and full of annoying ass kids. usually.

and as i pulled up, it was just that. a typical high school party scene - loud music, teenagers spilling out onto the lawn, and the faint smell of alcohol and weed in the air. i found chris on the footsteps, his head buried in his hands. i quickly made my way towards him after parking and kneeled down in front of him.

"come on, let's get you home." i said, helping him to his feet.

chris leaned on my heavily as we made our way to my car. i buckled him in and got into the driver's sear, the tension between us palpable in the confined space. as i drove, chris mumbled some incoherent words, his head lolling against the window.

"y/n," he suddenly said, his voice clearer but thick with emotion. "i'm sorry."

i glanced at him, eyebrows raised. "for what?"

"for everything," he continued, his eyes half-closed. "for being an ass. for ignoring you. for... for all of it."

i took a deep breath as i felt a mixture of sadness and anger bubbling within me. i gripped the steering wheel tighter, unsure of how to respond. "you're drunk, chris. you don't know what you're saying."

"no," chris insisted, reaching out and touching my arm. "i do, i've been a jerk. i miss you. i miss us."

i pulled into my own driveway, knowing chris wouldn't want to see his family like this. i would just take his phone and send them a text saying he was with a friend tonight or something.

i turned off the engine and took a deep breath. "let's get you inside."

chris stumbled out of the car, leaning on me for support the whole way to the door. i fished for my keys and unlocked the door, quickly guiding him to my living room couch.

as i laid a blanket over him, he grabbed my hand as his eyes locked with mine.

"i still care about you, y/n. i always have."

my heart pounded, but i forced a laugh, trying to deflect the intensity of the moment. "sleep it off, chris. we'll talk in the morning, okay?"

i brushed a few loose strands from his forehead and stood up, turning off the light and going to my room. my mind raced with conflicting emotions.

part of me wanted to believe his drunken confession, but another part of me was still so angry. still hurt by the way he had treated me. as i laid in bed and stared at my ceiling, i couldn't shake the feeling that things between us were far from over. and that this was just the beginning of a much more complicated story.

the sizzling of the bacon on the oven was comforting, in a way. i had an airpod in, playing some softer, but upbeat music to get me up and going for the long, long day ahead.

i turned my head upon hearing some shuffling in the kitchen, meeting eyes with chris. "morning," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"morning," i replied, placing a plate of food with bacon, eggs and sausage onto the counter in front of him. "eat up. you'll feel better."

he sat down and started eating, occasionally glancing at me as i cleaned up the kitchen. after a few minutes of awkward silence, he looked at me. "look, about last night.."

i crossed my arms and leaned against the counter. "what about it?"

chris looked down at his plate, poking at his eggs. "i meant what i said, you know. but i was drunk, and.. and maybe it didn't come out right-"

"maybe?" i questioned, my voice sharp. "you've been treating me like i don't exist for months, chris. one drunken apology doesn't fix that."

he winced at my words, but nodded. "i know, i've been an idiot. i got caught up in... everything. the team, the popularity. but that's no excuse."

"no, it's not." i stated, my anger beginning to bubble to the surface. "you think you can just waltz back into my life with a half-assed apology and everything will be fine? it doesn't work that way." i spat.

chris stood up, stepping closer. "i'm not asking for everything to be fine overnight. i'm asking for a chance to make things right."

i shook my hear, my eyes flashing with frustration. "do you even realize how much you hurt me? how it felt to be ignored, to be treated like i was nothing?"

"i do now," he said quietly. "and i'm sorry. truly. i want to make it up to you, if you'd let me."

i looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of insincerity. he seemed genuine, his usual bravado stripped away, leaving only the boy she used to know.

"i don't know if i can trust you," i admitted, my voice softer now.

chris reached out and took my hand in his. "i get that. and i will do whatever it takes to earn your trust back."

he pulled me into a tight hug, where i gently hugged his waist and took in his scent.

i missed this.

"just one date. give me a chance?" chris mumbled, the smile audible in his tone.

i hesitated, my mind racing. part of me wanted to say no, to protect myself from his bullshit. but another part of me remembered all of the good times.

"one date," i finally stated, my voice firm. "but this doesn't mean i'm just forgiving you, chris. you have a lot to prove."

he nodded quickly, his lips curving into a smile. "i promise i won't let you down."

i pulled away from his embrace and smiled at him before turning to the sink and doing the dishes. "you better now."

as i did the dishes, i felt a glimmer of hope mixed with lingering doubt. chris had a long way to go to earn the trust i had for him back, but for the first time in months, she felt like maybe, just maybe, things could change.

[hyunjilicious]

A/n: This was initially supposed to be the beginning of a longer fic but I ended up changing the plot a bit and this little thing doesn't fit in there anymore. So there's basically no plot here, just 3 bff's minding their own business when one of them decides to ask for a hickey :) you know, like all friends do.

Warnings: there's no smut, but I still wouldn't be comfortable with anyone underage reading it, so 18+ PLS. Also they're just friends but there's a hyunjin x reader x felix type of thing implied... idk... I love them both too much :/ (highly unedited, don't look at me, I just want it out of my drafts thank you) 1.4k

"Ok, I know this is gonna sound stupid, but bear with me for a second?" Hyunjin said, breaking the 10 minutes of silence that followed yours and Felix's relentless complaints about work and the last minute tasks you had been given. Once that topic had been exhausted, you each settled in a corner of your queen sized bed, entrapped by your phones. That was until Hyunjin spoke up.

"Yeah, what is it?" Felix answered but Hyunjin waited until he had your attention too before continuing.

"Can one of you give me a hickey?" 

Felix didn't even bother trying to answer, confusion just fell upon his features as he stared ahead, then at Hyunjin, who didn't even bat an eye, and then at you.

"Um?" you frowned, "Can you elaborate?"

"There are these girls at work that like me, I mean I think they do, and I've basically done everything to tell them I'm not interested but like… they don't get the hint, and they're very sweet, so I don't wanna be rude to them.. I figured this would be the best idea"

"You figured this would be the best idea?" Felix deadpanned.

"Yeah… they never walked up to me and told me they like me, so what kind of entitled asshole would I be if I just went to them and said 'Hey, I get that you're obsessed with me but I'm not interested'?"

Felix just blinked. "First of all, obsessed is a little bit too much, don't you think?"

"I agree. That's why I want a hickey"

"Just say you have a girlfriend"

"But I don't" Hyunjin shook his head, "That would be a lie. A hickey is just a hickey, and it'll make them assume I have someone"

"Or you could just talk to them" Felix tried again.

"Or you could just shut up and give me a hickey"

"I've never given anyone a hickey, I'm not doing it"

"I can do it" you offered, much to Felix's disappointment. It seemed that for whatever reason he assumed you'd be the rational one, but if anything, you understood very well what it was like to want to avoid difficult conversations.

"Thank you!" Hyunjin exclaimed.

"Come here"

"What? Now!?"

"What? Do you need to get ready? Need a moment of silence?"

"Um, no?" Hyunjin shily mumbled as Felix laughed in the background, "I just didn't expect you to do it now"

"We can do it later"

"No, no, no. Now is good"

"Ok, lay down" you instructed and shuffled closer to him. 

"Oh my god" Hyunjin chuckled as he let his weight fall back onto his shoulders while you straddled his hips. He watched you tuck your hair behind your ears and lick your lips, which made nervous giggles break past his lips as he threw his head back. "This feels so professional"

"Yes, y/n, the hickey master" you mocked and grabbed his hands, one forceful pull later and he was down flat on his back against the mattress. "Tell me if it hurts"

"I've gotten hickeys in the past, it wasn't that bad"

"Yeah because you were turned on and it was sexy. Now that's not the case"

"Hey, you're sexy" he grinned which made you slap his face away so you wouldn't have to see his eyes anymore.

"Oh god, I need to see this" Felix giggled and crawled closer, settling right next to you and directly above Hyunjin.

"You're breathing right into my face"

Felix wasn't having it, so he just smiled down at his friend. "You like it"

"Idiot"

With your lips inches away from Hyunjin's exposed neck, you found yourself struggling to find a starting point. Something felt off, a bit unnatural, and it made your ears tingle. "Ok, this is weird, but I don't know how to give hickeys without kissing too, so-"

"Kiss me, I don't mind"

"You're willing to make this sacrifice, huh?" Felix teased.

"Ok, but tell me if this starts to feel awkward, ok?"

"Y/n, you're both basically on top of me, one about to bite me and the other one looking at me like I'm a science experiment, awkward doesn't even begin to explain it"

"I'm sorry" you laughed, and despite the hurricane of thoughts that rushed through your brain at that exact moment, you shook your head one last time and finally closed the distance between the two of you.

Doing this robotically and by the book was never going to cut it, no matter how much experience you had and how many techniques you knew. So putting your faith into Hyunjin to tell you in case you went too far, you decided to do this right.

With your back arched and your body fully pressed against his, you snaked one hand up into hair, curling your fingers up around his roots as your lips started working on his still intact skin.

The kisses that initially started off as gentle and soft, turned fervid in a matter of seconds, your lips mercilessly sucking his perfect skin, morphing his light complexion into a perverse shade of red. 

Unconsciously, as you worked on the hickey on his neck, the hand that had been previously lightly tugging at his roots traveled down, gripping his chin and caressing its way down to his shoulders. 

Completely lost in the taste and feel of your best friend's skin, you failed to register the unnatural feeling of his hands on your thighs. You knew they were there, you felt their warmth down to your bones, but it never occurred to you that that had never happened before. So you let yourself get driven by his touch and refused to show any signs of slowing down as his curious hands made their way to your hips and then to your ass.

Fully engrossed by everything that was going on at once, you failed to notice the way Hyunjin was panting beneath you - his chest heaving up and down as his shaky, hot breath ran against your ear.

Once you figured you had him warmed up enough, you gave his neck the last bit of preparation which came in the shape of you licking up his jugular before you returned to your initial spot and sunk your teeth into his skin with no warning.

"Holy f-" he grunted, more than surely involuntarily bucking his hips up into you as his fingers dug into your hips. 

But it didn't deter you, you kept going - sucking, biting and licking all the right spots, keeping a steady pace until you felt satisfied with your work.

"Ok-" you said a bit out of breath before returning to pepper his traumatized skin with feather light kisses, "I think this should do it"

When you pushed yourself up to admire your work, Hyunjin hurried to hide his face behind his hands. "Oh my god"

"Was it good?" you grinned, placing your hands on his waist, ready to tickle a compliment out of him in case you needed to.

"I need a minute," he panted.

Deciding to give him the space he said he needed, your eyes moved to Felix. Despite not uttering one word, his face said a lot, his red cheeks, wide eyes and shy smile were enough to get the message across. 

Instantly, you opened your arms calling for a hug, but he just mirrored you and welcomed you when you finally crawled over to him. He gathered you close against his chest and pulled you down, the two of you now tightly wrapped together next to a still speechless Hyunjin.

"Was that awkward for you?" you whispered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck from the sudden wave of embarrassment that washed over you. 

"No, don't worry, it wasn't awkward-" he assured you with a kiss on the top of your head. "It was a… good tutorial"

"I still find it shocking that you've never given a hickey before" 

"I think the reason for that is because I always hated receiving them," Felix confessed, which prompted Hyunjin to come back from the dead, one long pointer finger up in the air.

"That's because you've never gotten one from her" 

"Ok" Felix laughed, "Can we stop with the hickeys? I feel like I'm high-school all over again. Adults don't have hickeys"

"No," you corrected, "Adults don't have hickeys in places others can see. Except that one" you pointed to Hyunjin. 

"You're just jealous"

"Of what? The hickey I gave you?"

"I don't know" Hyunjin gave up with a sigh and lazily rolled off the bed, "I'm gonna have a shower"

"Have fun!" you both laughed and then settled back into a tighter cuddle once the room fell into silence again.

What is this abrupt ending? Idk either, I'm sorry 😖

[knichii]

OK. does anyone else feel irritated that eng dub seems to be favoured in mha? in edits, in fics, it's clear most people watched dub and idk it's been rlly grinding my gears.

okay, to get this out the way, I don't like mha's eng dub. I don't like any of them. half don't fit their characters, 75% of the time the tone lands forced and awkward, and its literally just unbearable for me to watch I'm sorry. I have this issue with a lot of anime and cartoons so this isn't solely a my hero problem, but this is definitely the most severely I've disliked a dub. and yet I cannot escape it.

one of my biggest issues is the nuance that's lost in translation. anyone with any familiarity with the Japanese language will know what I mean. list of examples:

HONORIFICS

1. iida refers to class 1-A with '-kun'

2. yaoyorozu refers to class 1-A with '-san'

3. asui refers to class 1-A with '-chan'

3. deku with '-kun' (m) & '-san' (f)

that says SO MUCH about their characters, how they view their relationships, how they view themselves,, but in dub?? all of that's lost. ESP the significance of deku still calling bkg 'kacchan'. [simplified, '-chan' is used for cute/endearing things. it stemmed from children mispronouncing '-san', and became a childish, cutesy way of calling someone, usually someone you're VERY familiar with. it implies a shocking ammount of intimacy] thru years of bullying, all the rocks and straight up non existent road of their relationship, deku STILL calls him 'kacchan', the ONLY one allowed to do so ("but kaminari--" NEENAWNEENAWNEENAW).

in eng dub it gets reduced to a mere nickname, lacking all of its weight.

another thing is bakugou sub vs dub (...)

URGGGGGGHHHH

the most recent example is when bkg says "of course you pulled it off, Icyhot." (I forgot the context tho) in sub, he says "of course you pulled it off, TODOROKI".

THATS SUCH A NICHE, SUBTLE WAY OF SHOWING HIS DEVELOPMENT THATS TOSSED STRAIGHT OUT THE WINDOW. translation (manga) also has him calling his seniors 'senpai' which is... not what he says in sub????? 'senpai' indicates respect for someone your senior,,,, which. bkg would never show. (or only in EXTREMELY rare cases, MAYBE)

there's also my peeve abt names. this may be an only me issue, but I don't like it when japanese names are written in western format (e.g Izuku Midoriya)... ("this guy cannot be fr rn" unfortunately yes I am). I don't have a reason for this, and I'm aware it's niche and irrational, but I always cringe a little when I'm reading a fic, that's SET IN JAPAN, and their names are written Given Name, Family Name. emphasis on SET IN JAPAN. THEY ARE JAPANESE. THEY ARE NOT AMERICAN.

bkg's hero name. his og one which was translated to King Explosion Murder, losing all of the wit and cleverness in the jp original. this post goes into more detail and is very cool check it out

slightly irrelevant but bkg's jp va, Okamoto Nobuhiko, like. wow. the bkdk fight? the voice cracks? the ANGUISH?? the softness in his voice when bkg was abt to die (the hallucination w all might) ??? like,, wow. the emotion is so much more raw than it's conveyed in eng

I've gotten off point. point is I WISH MORE PEOPLE APPRECIATED AND WATCHED IN JP SUB. IM SCREAMING INTO THE VOID AND MY OWN VOICE IS ECHOING BACK I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE.

(note: jjk was my first anime fandom so I'm probably spoiled. over there, sub seems to be favoured, barring a few iconic lines [ray chase lwk served as sukuna in the shibuya arc] and the fics, like 70% of the ones I read, used japanese honorifics and culture. in comparison, mha was a bit of a shock. the side of the fandom I washed up on is so... American??? maybe I'm in the wrong place idk. everything's just extremely white and slightly uncomfortable.)

this was a bit of a vent post,, obviously ik people are entitled to opinions (even if they're wrong), I js wanted tk if anyone else felt the same way

reading this back, I'm aware of how chronically online I am. yeah. still tho

[alice1505]

I made the mistake of rewatching Sherlock because I never did finish it back in the day (I was -clenches fist- seething over the queerbaiting and rage quit after not fully watching episode 1 of s4) and I'm here to make my side hyperfixation (what year is this??? Who am I???) Tumblr's problem. The more I sit with s4, the less I like it 😂 There were pieces and elements I liked, but overall, it left a bad taste in my mouth. Forgive me if any or all if these points have been talked to death, I missed all the discourse and I'm hella late, but I need to flail and send my thoughts into the void because what even WAS that season? I can't believe I avoided it for years, got drawn in by a couple of tiktoks making fun (affectionately) of superwholock Era and That Scene about the fucking phone charger port, binged all of it, only to be left with..... that. Not nearly as disappointing or rage inducing as spn's ending but by God, did it leave a hole in me. So please ignore my rambling thoughts as I slap them down here for my own sanity.

• First and foremost, what - and I can't stress this enough - the fuck was UP with the assassination of John's entire character???? What was that??? Why????

• Related to that point - I can appreciate the angst point and potential it provides, as I'm reading many, many fics, but AYO WHY didn't anyone rip John an entire new one for that beat down he did on Sherlock????? Hello???? 911?????

• Tell me why everything felt so stilted and borderline icy. Like I get the high emotions and shit, but after a certain point... 😭 was there a falling out between Benedict and Martin that I'm not aware of? Did they just try to ungay everything so hard and were so pissed at the audience picking up everything THAT THEY PUT???? into this show and their interactions that they just hit the brakes hard enough to make everything feel weird???

• A lot of it felt weird. Off kilter a little. Forced in some places, toned down in others (and toned down where it shouldn't have been), a nod to ships but weirdly/hatefully??? Idk if that makes sense. Like the whole Sherlock and Molly phone call (I do not mean any hate to this ship, I really hope it doesn't come off this way. Not my cup of tea but you are valid). Why was Molly so upset BEFORE the call? Did I miss something? Also I don't personally think or feel she'd still have those feelings for him??? I??? I am bamboozled.

• to that whole point, Eurus was.... Hmm. Mmmm. She was. Something. (Confused derogatory)

• I like Mary as a character. I also hated her. (Definitely biased by my shipper trash ass self for johnlock, I'm sorry). Wtf were those messages, please. Edit: AND ANOTHER THING. John's reaction to Sherlock's death - awful, gut wrenching, beautiful, my heart breaks with and for him, utterly devasting. John's reaction to Mary's death - had me sitting there like🧍‍♀️(it was weird. so weird. awkward. w h y. (we know why, but also the acting choices were Something TM, in both cases! for different reasons!) i'm sorry i just can't get past my anger and put off-ness with mary, fun as she could be)

• why did mycroft and John switch roles 😭 pls. The last episode was just. So Much. The lackluster responses from John, to John, to Sherlock, between them, like.... hello???? Who are these people?? Help me. Moriarty saved me for a brief shining moment tho, God bless.

There's more I could spew, but that's what's sitting right at the top of my head. I guess all this just to say, if a show runner/writer really just fucking hates the audience they got (instead of the one they wanted), they probably shouldn't have fucking become a show runner/writer in the first place. Either hand it to someone who can actually handle it and listens, or fuck off. I will never understand when shows and plots and characters gets kamikaze'd because of a show runner being pissy and egotistical. Like ????? Grow up. Learn from Bryan Fuller and Hannibal or something.

Sorry for all the rambling, bless anyone who reads this and makes sense of it 😂

[the-guilty-writer]

We Need You That Way

Request from anon: Hey Gill, love your work bestie anyway I have a request for Spence being with BAU reader but she's dyslexic and idk there on a case and she's insecure because some of the cops/agents don't think reader could be an fbi agent yk and Spencer just consoles her super fluff stuff anyway feel free to ignore me 

Spencer Reid x gn!BAU!reader

Summary: Spencer reminds dyslexic reader that they’re a valuable part of the team.

A/N: While doing research on dyslexia I learned a lot about how it can affect more than reading and writing, but that it also presents differently in everyone. I remember reading a Spencer fic a long time ago with a dyslexic reader, but I couldn’t find it. (I will keep searching for it, though anon!)

I DID NOT HAVE A CONSULT on this fic, so if anyone with dyslexia has an issue with it, please let me know how I can improve. I do my research, but there is only so much a search engine can tell me. My messages are always open and I’m always happy to learn about how I can make a fic better when it features a reader with specific traits I’m unfamiliar with.

CW: reader is dyslexic (this shouldn’t be a warning?), the deputy makes a rude comment to reader, small southern town slander (I live in a small southern town and can confirm that the stereotypes are true. Someone save me from this hell please.)

---

“Why does every small town we go to have a bunch of roads named after a bunch of people from the same family?” you huffed slightly.

You had just gotten back from visiting a crime scene; something that should have taken about an hour and ended up being far longer. The GPS had died and there was no cell phone service, leaving you to navigate via old-fashioned map, which wasn’t exactly your strongest suit. Mixing up left and right, finding out that you were holding the map upside down, and old road names made the journey less than ideal and exceedingly frustrating.

Most people thought dyslexia only went as far as mixing up words and struggling to read, but it got in the way of other things as well; today’s backroad adventure was just one example. It wasn’t often that you let those things get you down, but today you couldn’t help it.

After seeing you come back to the station so defeated, Spencer took you to grab a much-needed cup of coffee from the small kitchenette. It wasn’t a real break, but it was enough for you to cool off from your frustrations.

“Looking back at the town records, the Baskin family owned about one fourth of the town land for three generations and the Silvan family owned a third of the town for two generations before holding prominent government positions. Given the regional tradition it makes sense that so many roads are named after them,” Spencer sprouted a fact. It made you grin.

“My great grandpappy held onto the land as long as he could,” one of the old deputies said, though you could barely understand through his thick southern-drawl. “Broke his heart when he had to let it go. It’s devastating the first murder occured on the road named in his honor.”

It’s more devastating that someone is… you know… dead, You thought, but kept yourself from speaking. “And which road was that?” you asked politely, opening up your case file, but knowing it would be faster just to ask.

“Harper,” the deputy said. “There’s only one Harper road in this whole town.”

“Are you right?” you looked down at your file again, taking your time as much as you could, but still in a rush.

“What is it?” Spencer asked.

“I thought I just came back from the scene at Harper,” you told him.

“I’m right,” the deputy replied defiantly.

“I wasn’t-” you wanted to explain that sometimes you would reach for a word like “sure” but a word with similar meaning, like “right” would come out instead. Dyslexia didn’t just make you mix up letters and sounds, but words sometimes too, especially since you were distracted by your files.

But the deputy didn’t give you a chance to speak any further. “I know I’m right! What kind of FBI agent can’t keep track of where crime scenes are?”

Spencer interrupted before it could go any further. “Let’s go note the difference on the profile board, okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied to him quietly and the two of you quickly made your way to the other room.

Spencer shut the door behind you and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. People questioned your ability to do things at times, but never so loud and direct; most of it was whispered behind your back. You’d spend time pretending that you didn’t hear the insults, pretending that they didn’t get to you until you were alone and could cry silently to yourself. This time you had no time, no room, to ignore the interaction that occurred. Your vulnerability was on complete display.

You threw your files down on the table and sunk into a chair, feeling crushed. “He’s got a point,” you muttered.

“He doesn’t,” Spencer said, sitting next to you.

“It took me two hours to figure out how to get to the crime scene today, Spencer.” You should have felt bad about using such a bitter tone with him, but you couldn’t help it. “It wouldn’t have taken Morgan that long. Or you, or anyone else on the team.”

“Well when Morgan drives it makes all of us carsick,” Spencer said. “And no one lets me drive.”

“Spencer, you hate driving,” you pointed out. “You get all squirrelly.”

“I did technically fail the offensive driving course at the academy.” Spencer smiled sheepishly. “But that doesn't make me any less important to the team.”

“Of course it doesn't. You're a literal genius. I'm… just me.” Your voice quieted at the end, what was frustration showing as what it really was— insecurity.

“I think just you is great,” Spencer replied. “And you help me slow down when thinking through cases.”

“Wow, I slow you down… thanks, Spence. That makes me feel so much better.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm.

“It’s a good thing,” Spencer said sincerely. “I jump to conclusions sometimes. You make me slow down and catch the things I missed. My consultation profiles have been far more accurate since you joined the team, and when we’re out on cases we have to revise the profile less often.”

“Really?” You tried not to show how baffled you truly were. You knew that occasionally you helped slow down Spencer’s million-mile an hour brain, but you didn’t think it was helpful for anyone but yourself.

“Do you know why Hotch brings you to court the most?” Spencer asked.

You bypassed telling Spencer that his sentence could be taken in two very different connotations. “Because it would be a waste of time to have me review files when I can’t read them?”

“Because you can tell the story of the case as an experience instead of just a list of evidence. It makes it easier for the jury to understand what’s going on and more dangerous people get put away because of it,” Spencer explained.

“And Garcia always asks you to help review initial video footage for a reason. It’s like you can see the crime scene without being there, so when we get there in-person we have a better idea of where to start. Your spacial awareness is better than the rest of ours. We can build the profile faster.”

“Do I really help that much?”

“Yeah, you do.” Spencer looked at you softly.

He reached for you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You let yourself fall into his arms. The comfort and reassurance of his words cradled you, building your confidence back up. “Keep being ‘just you.’ We need you that way.”

[haveihitanerve]

how do ppl function w/o someone giving them input

I started writing smth, tis a ABO batfam thing (gonna be my first attempt writing abo) and I literally am so critical of myself that I don't read my own stuff so I get my friends to do it for me

lol- i don't have anyone proof-reading my work before i post it(mostly bc a lot of people in my life dont know that i write and/or the kind of stuff i write/have the same tastes as me)

and ummmm.... idk. I kind of write it down, and edit it as I go, so I don't have that stage where you go back and reread and are like "wtf is this was i high?" bc... i edit as i go. If something sounds wrong i just delete the whole thing and in the moment am like "what was that" and then move on. (or worst case scenario just stop writing and ignore it for the rest of my life buried in a WIP)

I also try really hard not to be critical of myself, you are your own worse critic and sometimes its good to be critical and improve your work, but i remind myself im still constantly learning, even tho ive been writing for years, there are always ways to improve and get better, and it might not look amazing to you, but it might click perfectly in someone else's head and quite honestly theres always a chance people might love it or hate it and i remind myself that some of my favorite works, books, movies, shows, etc, have bad reviews and some are even loathed, but I found joy in them, and so theres always a chance someone else might find that joy in something I've written, and I'm always willing to take that chance and give that one person a spark of joy :)

also id love to read that ABO fic when youre done if you're ok with it :)

[runraerun]

are you still talking prompts? I’m not sure what you’re into but can I give you a few just in case some aren’t your thing?? 1. Fem!harringrove 2. Daemon harringrove au 3. Cat boy!steve 😍😍 it’s up to you what billy would be… 4. I keep seeing artwork of Spider-Man!steve so maybe??? 👀👀👀 and venom!billy perhaps??? I love your fics!

*kicks in your door* 🦶💥🚪

DID SOMEONE SAY CAT!BOYS?!👀

Now, idk if I have a whole fic in me for this prompt but I love the idea of a Harringrove Cat!Boys AU. :3

Picture it with me anon; Billy moving to Indiana with his sandy blond cat!boy ears out, maybe he’s got a little earring in one. Maybe he’s got a chunk missing out of the other because Billy’s a scraper/or Neil is a monster, dealers choice.

But it’s a shock to the rest of Hawkin’s High when he shows up without his ears pinned down.

Because in Indiana, hell, in most of the civilized world, you didn’t just walk around with your ears out. It was downright obscene!

But Billy’s from California, a place full of liberals and hippies, and Billy’s mom was a big “nature knows best!” kind of gal—always barefoot, with her hair down and her ears out. So Billy sort of carries that with him.

Billy’s ears flatten to his head when he’s playing basketball/when he’s taunting Steve. Maybe they perk up when Steve walks by. Twitch when he hears someone mention Steve’s name.

They give up the game entirely—which is why most people have their ears pinned down. But Billy hates the idea of conforming. Plus it just sucks having your ears pinned down all of the time. That shit hurts!

When Billy finally convinces Steve to show him his ears, it’s a moment of vulnerability for Steve. He’s never shown anyone his ears. Not even Nancy when they were dating. It’s like seeing into someone’s soul or something—it’s a big deal!

But when Steve’s dark brown ears are free, they don’t spring up like they’re meant to. They’ve been trained to lay flat, so it takes a few ear rub sessions from Billy to get them to stand up to their full height. And they’re big ears. Bigger than Billy’s. And once they’re not so sore, they’re quite expressive. They’re a little twitchier than Billy’s too—more sensitive, just from being pinned down for so long. Billy’s mildly obsessed with them and how cute they make Steve look. Can’t keep his hands off of them.

Steve doesn’t wear his ears out in public like Billy does, but now when they’re alone, he unpins them and lets them out around Billy. Hell, there may even be some purring when nightly ear rubs occur. :3

And they lived happily ever after—the end!

ALSO I’m a little confused about the Daemon!AU prompt. Like Daemons from His Dark Materials (like animal familiars?) or like Daemon Targaryen? Please tell me anon, I’m very curious!

Also the Spidey!Steve x Billy!Venom has me in an absolute CHOKEHOLD wow. I may need to work on that one before I have any real ideas other than I adore it. <3

Fem!Harringrove has never really been my thing but it is very sexy and wonderful and who knows I may come around eventually!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE PROMPTS ANON! I love you I love you I love you. Thank you for reading and submitting. <3

Want more? Submit a prompt today!:D

[madness-combat-confessions]

Okay idk if this is the most Obvious shit and im just slow or if theres been an ask about this or something but we need to talk about cloning and the AAHW more imo!!

If the thing about sanf and dei being previous members (and i think doc being confirmed?) then that begs many questions. Jeb and tricky were also members and we know their lore as past scientists for nexus and then jeb was "hired" by auditor and tricky too probably but we dont have a direct confirmation afaik but everyone else is just? Vauge?

Like either A) AAHW has people working for it that are not clones like the mass agents and soldats and engineers and they are never mentioned (which would be stupid imo considering how far we are into the story) or B) they are all clones that dissented which for deimos is yk not far fetched considering his poster outright stating it

BUT THEN THAT BEGS THE ISSUE ON HAND. Everyone that ive seen online considers the agents as personality-less fucking creatures and i think even canon says smt like that about them but like.. if a clone can dissent then they probably Arent as bland as they seem. And even that isnt far fetched, i mean they hold birthdays apparently and play games to pass time. How deep does it go? How much will do they have? They seem to be conditioned to never run when Hank aka (almost) certain death is around which is one thing but are they scared of death? Do they have favorite foods and colors? How human (or in this case grunt) are they? Is it just Some of them that have self awareness/personality? Are they coded to have a personality? If yes is it random or set? Would the AAHW bother to code a random persona generator?? Do they perhaps lose more of their indaviduality/humanity as they progress up on the food chain to be soldats or engineers??

Idk i keep seeing agents n shit in fics and stuff be shown as these sometimes mechanical creatures with 0 varying personality and 0 humanity and it makes me heavily wonder about them. Maybe theyre just a bit dumber than average due to being mass cloned? Shrug. I dont know i think theyre more interesting when considered to be actual people than just. Puppets. They are metaphorical and sorta physical puppets yeah but like they held a birthday man. Fuck. They had a birthday.

Agents keep me up at night.

-anon MMS if i can claim that cuz its funny /opt!!

Glad to know that I'm not the only one who also thinks about the AAHW!

I personally think/headcanon that basically everyone in the AAHW is a clone because anyone that could had been an actual real person is dead (lol). And idk how to explain it but from what I've read they lack S-3LFS, but they still are kinda like people? Like they might just appear like mindless clones who only wanna kill Hank, and they are that don't get me wrong, but I think they also still act like people to some extent (or at least some of them)

I mean one of the agents in MC 9.2 had been writing "We are abandoned " on a wall so to me that says they're capable of understanding their situation and feeling sad (?) about it?

Now I'm not sure on the engineers and the soldats, I mean a soldat literally blew a rocket where their team was because they thought their boss had told them to. Which makes me think two things

1: The AAHW is a bit too blindly devoted to the Auditor. Which is probably because they are clones that were made/'programmed' to be that way.

2: I think that the soldats and the engineers have less "free will" than the agents because of the ATP

There's also something else I wanna talk about

This:

Like hello? What the fuck did this guy do?

From my understanding what is considered a dissenter in this series is someone who goes against the Auditor and the agency. So what did this guy even do? Did he try to betray them like Deimos and Doc did?

Or was it perhaps something minor like not doing their job? Like actually make a decision for their own and don't do what the Auditor says for once, like how an actual person would do?

I wanna say that's a stupid reason to kill one if their agents, but it's a possibility: the Auditor is shown to not really take it kindly when people don't do their job, she literally sliced a grunt in half for it. Even though all the grunt did was play cards with some other agents.

I wouldn't be surprised if this was the case this guy was damned a "dissenter" and killed by the Auditor (or maybe the other members) for that reason.

So taken to account that they are soulless clones but can still 1: celebrate birthdays 2: play games to pass time 3: dislike their shitty ass situation I'd say that they have some personality, it's just that the Auditor is too strict to allow them to show/act like it. Because she doesn't want people with free will in the agency he wants mindless clones who'd do whatever she says.

Does this make sense I swear it does in my head I'm just bad at putting it to words.

[danmei-confessions]

Adding my two cents as a survivor of multiple forms of abuse (including CSA): I *really hate* how this fandom acts about abuse narratives-- demonizing one abuse survivor vs another, when in reality both of them have done fucked up things as a result of their trauma (it's what makes both LBG and SJ so compelling to me personally!!). I *especially* hate how people seem to basically "tier" abuse, with SA being the "worst trauma" over any other kind and acting as though SJ is more worthy of... pity? idk because of implied CSA (which... that in itself is fanon and up for interpretation... I personally think so, but in a somewhat different way than the usual interpretation but that isn't important) than LBG is... that might not be peoples' intent, but physical vs sexual abuse shouldn't be a "this is worse than that" sort of thing since different traumas affect different people differently, and it's really really uncomfortable to see people make that kind of assumption and talk about very real traumas that very real people face the way they do.

Anyway, I feel like a lot of the debates are due to piss-poor reading comprehension across the fandom. People point out that SJ abused LBH because *a lot of times people will actually act like he didn't.* Things like saying there was medicine in the tea, or that he didn't know/approve of the fake manual... even claims that "that was just the way things were and corporal punishment was normal." Which... is pretty gross tbh.

I like SJ's character as a person who was hurt who then turned around and took that out on others. He's one of my favorite characters because he shows that less inspiration-porn, poor-meow-meow side of a trauma survivor. It's realistic in a very gritty, bitter sort of way. That shit can fuck people up! I relate to him for so many reasons, but that doesn't mean I'm going to deny what he ended up doing by his own agency later. The cycle of abuse is a real danger, and SVSSS actually portrays that really well, which is why I like the book so much!

Idk. SJ stans claim they "don't excuse his abuse" but that's absolutely not true bc I've had people come on my posts and fics doing just that. It's like they miss the point of the character-- not completely scum, but both scum and pitiful... Some people seem to go too far in the defense.

Also, if you're someone who doesn't deny that SJ abused LBH, then *this isn't about you.* It's about the people who do. People in this fandom need to realize that both SJ and LBG are abusers, and that that's the POINT OF THE WHOLE THING, and that neither of them should be excused for it!! But the source of it should still be recognized in both cases!! And I feel that a lot of people don't like to admit that SJ, despite his trauma, *was* the cause of a lot of LBH's trauma. And me saying this ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT ERASE HIS OWN TRAUMA OMG but like... those SJ fans are already well aware of SJ's trauma and LBH's crimes so it doesn't really need to be mentioned??

LBG and SJ were BOTH TRAUMA SURVIVORS. Neither "Worse" than the other because uhhh clearly they were both incredibly traumatized because of the way they ended up turning out. Stop ranking trauma, that's disgusting.

But BOTH OF THEM WERE ALSO ABUSERS.

That. Is. The. POINT. OF. THEIR. STORY!!!!

This is at ANYONE who denies either the victim or the abuser status of either of these characters: fucking stop it. You might not like to hear it, but no matter how traumatized SJ was, the way he treated LBH was still abusive and if you excuse him for it then you're participating in abuse apologism. The same goes for LBG (and any other character whose actions are abusive).

I know we get attached to our favorite characters for various reasons, but when it actually starts veering into abuse apologism IN ANY FORM, that makes me feel really sick and uncomfortable with the way people talk about things that *actually happen to people irl.*

SVSSS fandom, you need to fucking stop.

.

[yunalinwrites]

jjk fics i'll never write (but maybe you will!)

i have a bunch of fic ideas i dont think i'll ever get to bc saved by the bell is taking rlly long and i don't have a lot of time (╥﹏╥)

i still wanna see them come to life tho so i think im just gonna throw them out there for anyone who wants to use lol

idk maybe ill write these eventually but even in that case im not gonna stop anyone else from using them as well

go ahead and alter however u like, but tag me if u use!! im letting u peek in my brain >:)

and even if ur not a writer these can just b like imagination prompts for when u go to bed LMAO

"love is work" - nanami kento x reader

summary: title is self-explanatory tbh--the idea that nanami kento views love as work could be applied to any scenario. but, i think it would be interesting for the reader to be the person he meets at the bakery. maybe the bakery is a family business, so the reader's work is literally driven by familial love. although, im not sure if that means they agree or disagree with nanami about love being work.

alternatively, the reader could be a co-worker of nanami's.

conflicts/themes:

serving oneself vs. serving others

what makes love/work worth it?

"meet cute" - fushiguro megumi x reader

there are so many canon strangers to lovers opportunities with megumi lol.

like, being the person "hitting on" (asking for directions from) fushiguro during that one juju stroll.

or the person getting robbed and saved by the 1st year crew, also from juju stroll. (also applicable for yuji and nobara x reader)

there's also the light novel chapter where megumi and yuji stalk gojo at a maid cafe, so maybe the reader works at the maid cafe, and the very stoic but handsome megumi catches their eye. this scenario could also be applicable to yuji x reader or gojo x reader.

there's also an original scenario i was thinking of cuz megumi likes reading (specifically non fiction) so what if the reader was a worker at a book store or a librarian. maybe they know about sorcery already because they read a non-fic book about it and recognize his uniform when he walks in.

also i haven't seen a megumi x tsumiki's friend!reader, esp considering that one girl when tsumiki is confronting megumi about bullying lol. this one could have an interesting conflict bc that girl urged tsumiki to do the test of courage that ended up getting her cursed! so then how would megumi deal with his love interest (the reader) also being the person somewhat at fault for his sister's demise?

not a meet-cute prompt but generally i think it would b interesting in any megumi fic for gojo to be a conflict. like, as megumi's father figure, he doesn't want megumi to end up like him and suguru, so he's very hesitant about letting megumi fall in love with someone since "love is the most twisted curse of them all." but i think in the end, he might realize that love/the reader is exactly what will stop megumi from turning into suguru, so gojo ends up giving the reader his blessing.

"sugar makes blood thicker" - geto suguru x reader

tw: spoilers for gojo's past/hidden inventory/star plasma vessel/premature death arc, angst, DARK CONTENT, self-destructive behaviors, self-harm, eating disorders

summary: reader is a student at jujutsu high in 2006, alongside geto and gojo. reader is from the kamo clan and uses blood manipulation. they've been taught to keep a very strict diet to optimize the viscosity of their blood. just like how geto hates the taste of cursed spirits, reader hates the taste of their diet. they fall in love with each other, because they've finally met someone that makes them feel understood.

if you want to go even darker, the reader's technique may involve cutting (kind of like marie from gen v)

conflicts/themes:

what's the point of fighting for a world that's done nothing for you in return? ("what has the world done for me lately?")

sugar makes blood thicker, which i can imagine is harder to control for a blood manipulation user

gojo satoru is the opposite of the reader: he eats however he pleases, which includes lots of sweets, so it's hard for the reader to be around him/doesn't like him. as a result, it's also hard for geto to have to pick sides between his best friend and the reader

ending: canon ending; geto chooses reader over gojo; they turn evil and run away together with nanako and mimiko. although it could also be interesting for geto to choose gojo over the reader, or if there's somehow a happy ending for everyone here.

I have no title for this one but gojo x megumi's older sister reader

self-explanatory. during the 2006 arc, after gojo kills toji. they raise megumi together <3

"if only i could go back" - any character x reader

summary: this is pretty self-indulgent lol this one's for everyone who wants to heal everyone's trauma and just have a happy ending lmao. i had this idea of the reader either being a sorcerer or a curse who has the power to grant one wish but in doing so sacrifices themselves (they die). so, obviously, they're in high demand by everyone:

megumi wants to heal his sister

gojo wants to bring suguru back

geto wants to rid the world of non-sorcerers

toji wants his wife back

shoko wants her friends back

etc

some situations the reader may find themselves in are being held at the school so that nobody can use their power unless absolutely necessary. or maybe they were captured by the curse users.

technicalities about the reader's power: they can't grant their own wish, but they have full autonomy over whose wish they can grant, meaning the only way that someone could get their wish granted is through befriending and persuading the reader.

conflicts/themes:

characters having to choose between their wish (which kills the reader) and their fondness of the reader (wanting the reader to stay)

will they truly be happy if their wishes are granted?

how does the reader feel about being the method of people's desires but not actually being the desire?

***

alr im done yapping

[forgodsgoddamnsake]

Belly Dancer - Prologue

Hey beauties! This is my first fic and I may be too old for this idk but I thought I need to get this freaking idea out of my system. I’d like you to know that English isn’t my first language so mind me. I’d like you to know that the character which is you in this case is not weak, I read my fair share of fanfics and most of the times if not all the character is a weak little thing, but that’s not gonna be the case here. You’re gonna be a badass bitch!

Idc what your culture is, all I want from you is to have an open mind and get yourself out of where you are and convince yourself that you are the one in this fic. Get yourself out of your body, out of your culture, out of color, out of whatever the fuck. NO MATTER WHAT.

So, shall we start?

Summary: Belly dancer and an arms dealer, how's that gonna go?

--

It was one of those days that you had to bust your ass to get the job that had you be here in this country. You had been here for a long time enough for you to get used to the mess you're in. You had to get this job; someone has to believe in you. You got to take this chance, this is your culture after all, how can anyone beat you in something your culture is known for?

You took off your hair tie and let your hair fall down your shoulders and back, you got it be so long, so it fits your soon-to-be job. You stand in front of the mirror in the small room of the theatre and take in how you look after you put on your body suit.

This is your shot; you take it, or you leave the country cursing every day you suffered here. You're not gonna let this go.

You look at the golden colored body suit that beautifies your body even more, your cleavage is out there, not so modest, but enough for you to catch eyes. This is what this art is about after all.

You squat and put on the golden anklet and then stand again and take in how beautiful you are. You know that you're beautiful and that your beauty is different from all girls here, that's not something new to you, but it doesn't only take beauty. You also have the skills, and oh you're going to use every bit of it.

A knock on the door and a voice shouts, "Y/N, are you ready?"

You take a deep breath and take the last look of yourself in the mirror.

"I am."

You take your black mantle and wear it on top of your suit. Man, you're here to blow them away, at least this is what you thought.

The path is lightened enough for you to know where the stage is. You stand and see the brown stage in front of you, waiting for you to stand on it.

"Go!" You hear a man says. You breathe and take your first step on the stage and stand right in the middle. There is a light right above you and you can clearly see that there are four people sitting where the audience should be. Three of them are the club and theatre owners that your determined to work at. The fourth one is your friend Jessica, and she's sitting away from them and giving you a smile and a thumbs up.

You hear the woman of the three people asks, "Your name is Y/N, right? Quite a unique name."

You smile and raise your chin in pride, "Yes, I think it kinda is."

"We've heard that you want this job so badly, what makes you different?" A man asks.

"Belly dance is something my country is known for, this is something all women there are born with, it's one of the sexiest things you'll ever see in your life. I think it's even sexier than pole dancing, and I'm here to prove that I'm worthy of it more than anyone else who just learned this art when they were like 20 years old." You answer, confidently.

"Oh, then when did you learn it?" The woman asks.

You smile to yourself and remember when you were five years old and had your mother's scarf around your waist and danced to a really old song.

"From the day I was born." You answer with a smile.

"Well then, let's see." The last man says, looking at his wristwatch.

You hear the rythm of the Egyptian song you asked for, so you give them your back with your body still covered in the mantle.

You start by slowly swaying your waist and you know they can't see shit with this mantle, but you keep swaying your body slowly. Until the beat hits, you throw the mantle violently on the floor, then give them your face with a smile, swaying your belly and waist, not forgetting to use your hands and arms just like any good dancer. A VERY good dancer.

You don't stay where you are, but you also go everywhere on the stage, to keep them attached to looking at you. You smile to yourself when the men look at your beautiful legs and take in the sight of your anklet, your belly is not flat. It has this bump every belly dancer should have to stay as sexy as possible.

You shake your hips, then your breasts, then your waist enough for your ass to shake with it. For the last couple of seconds you use your hair taking it in one hand and raise it to sway it in the air with your back all the way back while standing.

When you're done you hear Jessica scream, "Oh my fucking god! that was incredible, y/n!"

It was the first time she sees you dance, and it blew her away. A smile crept on your face after you looked at the three left, their mouths are open.

One of them stands up, "You're in."

--

It wasn't the first time for Harry to go to this club, but his friend told him that they had this new dancer that shocked people every time she was on stage.

He needs something different, so maybe drinking couple of shots and dancing could do it for him. He knows that the VIP lounge in this luxurious club will be quieter, and girls won't throw themselves at him as much, he is sick of it actually.

His job is dangerous, he is sick of it, too.

He has cut his hair short, he had to. He had to keep his looks as manly as possible, and the long hair wasn't doing a great job.

Harry coughs and sits on the stool at the bar in the VIP lounge, raising his middle finger to Michael, his friend who sat on a leather couch with a couple of girls. He asks the bartender for vodka, It's not his best option but he wants something strong enough to knock him out.

"Oh my god, it's become nuts in here." He hears the bartender huffs.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asks lighting a cigarette.

"The club has been more crowded every day since this new girl came in." The bartender explains, pouring the vodka for Harry.

"What new girl? Is it the dancer Michael talked about?" Harry asks, taking the cup from the bartender and pouring it down his throat.

"Mhm, not gonna lie, she's sexy to the point I get a boner just hearing her name." The bartender laughs.

"What kind of dancing does she do?" Harry asks giving back the cup of vodka.

"You're gonna see for yourself, better watch out your dick when you see her. Anyways she's gonna be on stage in about half an hour."

"What is her name then, the one that gets you a boner?" Harry smirks and takes the new cup of vodka.

"Y/N" The bartender answers.

[secondbeatsongs]

is ff.n finally dying? god. that was my first intro to fanfiction and oh boy the fandom i was in was a terrible/idk dead ig? community. tbf i didn't write pairings so (still have this problem) my stuff just gets filtered out bc there's no slash and people don't read it, maybe that's why i never spoke to anyone. Still, I read and wrote so much transformers angst way after the movies were out of immediate popularity and got very little interaction. years later dipped my toes into pokémon and immediately got someone yelling at me about the capitalization of species names.

On AO3 now writing & just as brutal angsty shit and it's much better there! but ya know. weird feeling thinking FF is gonna be like Gone gone.

I have no idea if it's actually going to go down, but I do not like the domain issues they've been having, so I'm backing up anything I can think to, juuuust in case :/

but also! I'm a bit upset right now, because I've been using the FanFictionDownloader to archive stuff, but looking at my files just now, chapters are missing? which means that any multi-chapter fics are probably ruined, meaning I have to go back and re-download a large amount of the 573 fics I downloaded yesterday. T_T

I tried fichub and it seemed to download fine, but I am still Upset about having to redo this much work

[resident-rats]

you!!! I love your writing, it's genuinely so much fun to read. moonlight was a fun fic and now I'm super hyped to see where your selkie! Krauser fic is going to go!!!

you're really funny (the tags on posts you rb always make me laugh), are super creative, and sometimes, whenever you show up, you make me feel a little better about being trans. idk, it's nice to see someone older than me and happy. feels like it can actually happen to me, when I get a little older.

anyway! you're fun and sweet, and I love your stuff <33

Omg I don’t even know where to start, thank you so much 😭😭

I’m really happy you are interested in the selkie fic!! Genuinely posting it I was like this is going to be something I only care about hfjfjf, but it’s so nice hearing other people are invested too!!

Also really nice to hear other people think I’m funny lol, usually I convince myself I’m being annoying in the tags ndjdjd

But no, I actually cannot put the <333 feeling into words rn. It can be so difficult to find happiness as a trans person when so many people make out that trans identities revolve around being miserable forever, when that really isn’t the case. Genuinely I’m so honoured that I give you a little bit of hope!! I’ve been out as trans for 10 years, and genuinely stuff does get better. Eventually you do grow into yourself, whether it’s moving out, finding community, or just finding self acceptance. I use to get so hung up on if people read me as male or not especially after starting T, and trying to pander to people who would probably never fully accept me anyway began to really hold me back. What really matters is you know your own identity better than anyone and you’ll still have that identity no matter how others perceive you. And that it’s 100% possible to be happy and be trans, regardless of where you are/what you want from transitioning