#but they didn't stop to ask if that person even wanted to cross in the first place

[keylimepie]

You know, I've thought about this a lot over the years. I started participating in fandom 25 years ago, and I do remember during the LiveJournal (LJ) and forums eras that I rarely if ever heard a fanfic writer complaining about engagement and each chapter was full of comments. Then around 2010 tumblr happened and everyone migrated from LJ to tumblr. Suddenly fanfiction writers were complaining about a lack of engagement. I think this is largely because we became so centralized and lost all sense of community. It used to be you had to sign up for a website with a forum dedicated to a very specific pairing, or you had to join a livejournal community that was very specific to your interest. And the membership might reach a little under 2k. Most of these communities were locked too, so you didn't have to worry about what you said being publicly visible to folks outside your community. You knew who you were speaking to and who could see what you were saying.

Tumblr, tiktok, and twitter are more like shouting into the void and hoping someone in the crowds of 100k people take notice of you, and that task is way easier with a pretty photo or a video than with a fic. You don't know who is going to see what you're saying, and I think most of us have either experienced or witnessed someone receiving dog-piled backlash because one person misconstrued what the OP said. So basically, not only are you struggling to get attention in a massive crowd from people with incredibly short attention spans who have no idea who you are, but if you do manage to get someone's attention they may be too scared to say anything publicly. Hell they may be too scared to DM the author because they don't know the author either and I have seen authors tear apart DMs publicly because they misconstrued something that was said and now the author's fanbase is dog-piling that person. You ever notice how so many asks to authors are anon? People are scared, and it is so much safer to just like or kudo something than put yourself out there in front of a potential firing squad.

Also just want to point out, that a lot of asks people send to creators never get addressed, either because tumblr ate it, or the creator decided to ignore it, or the creator's inbox was overflowing. And after awhile people stop sending asks to not only that creator, but other creators as well because they've been receiving negative reinforcement that their engagement is undesired.

I think I saw another one of these posts floating around where it turned out people were gushing about fics in discords but not commenting on AO3 or the author's tumblr. And this kind of makes sense to me. Discords are a lot like the forums and LJ communities of old, where it is a much smaller group and you tend to know most of the people there and you feel more comfortable speaking up.

I just don't think huge centralized hubs are of the benefit to creators. It is fine to post stuff to tumblr or AO3 or wherever, but that isn't enough. If you want engagement you need to build up or join a community and cross-post there. If you're just flinging your work into the void and expecting engagement, then it just isn't going to work. Sure people will find it, but they wont feel comfortable enough to say anything where they have no control over who sees it. 20 years ago, we didn't have tumblr or twitter or even AO3, you had to find or start a community if you wanted to share your work. We had to make our own spaces not rely on corporate spaces, and I think that is what the difference is. You need to create a space where people feel safe to engage, and tumblr has NEVER been that. Tumblr has been terrible from day 1 for engagement, just toxic and mindless so often.

TLDR: No one is engaging because the sense of community is completely gone and been stripped away over the last 15 years. I cannot stress enough for the younger folk how much fandom these days is just not what fandom was. It has been 13 years since I last felt a sense of community in any of my fandoms, and it sucks. I can't help but think we need to decentralize again and create little pocket communities in order to return fandom to what it is meant to be.

You know what’s really disturbing to me? The culture that seems to have sprung up around fanfiction. Writers spend weeks and months working on a story – I think my record is six months on A Place For Us To Dream. And so many times readers expect to just be given a chapter even if they don’t give anything to the writer in return.

I’m going to date myself a bit here, but I’ve been reading/writing fanfiction for ten years. And when I first started it was a wonderful community. There was an unspoken rule – if you read/enjoyed it, you review it. You take thirty seconds to tell an author who probably spent anywhere from three days to a week writing that chapter you just enjoyed to tell them you enjoyed it. Even if it was as simple as “Great chapter, can’t wait to see what happens next!”

Writers spend so much time on stories, and then they post it because they have this thing that they’ve invested so many hours into and they want to share it with the world. They know how they feel about the story, and they want to know how other people feel, what other people think.

And when you read it and don’t review, you know what message you’re sending that author? That they’re not worth your time, or you didn’t enjoy their story. So why should they keep posting it? Yeah they might continue working on it in their own time, for their own enjoyment, but you might never see another chapter again because you couldn’t be bothered to take thirty seconds out of your day to tell them how you feel.

I’ve written stories in eight different fandoms, ranging from very small to very big (I’ll openly admit I wrote Twilight fanfiction once. Once. It was an Alice/Jasper story and haters can hate all they want but I’m still proud of it). I took a break for a few years because I fell out of fandoms during college, and when I came back apparently it’d become the norm to just greedily consume writing without telling writers how you feel. And that is one of the saddest things in the world to me because fanfiction is where I really started getting serious about writing. It’s how I’ve honed by skills and become the writer I am today. And that was largely in part because of all the support I got when I was an itty-bitty thirteen-year-old writing crappy W.I.T.C.H. fanfiction.

Everyone keeps saying “reviews don’t matter, you should just write for yourself.” Well, you’re wrong. Reviews make or break fanfiction. Reviews tell writers whether it’s worth their time to continue posting that story online or whether they should keep it on their hard drives and never share it with the world.

Kill the attitude that reviews don’t matter. Start telling writers you like their stories. And if you don’t, if you all just continue to be invisible readers? Don’t be surprised when that writer disappears.

[brawberryz]

You think i'm weird?

Damian Wayne × BatSis! Reader 《Platonic!》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

You had noticed that Damian was more distant than usual, his self-centered personality and confident tone had almost completely disappeared

You weren't stupid, you knew something was wrong, you were his older sister, maybe you had different mothers and were raised in different environments but that doesn't mean you didn't understand

You said you were going to confront him on the next patrol, you needed answers and as the excellent detective you were, you were going to get them

_

"Is there something bothering you?"

You said suddenly as the two of you sat in front of a building, it was the right time to talk, there was no one who could interrupt.

"What do you mean?"

Damian asked as if he didn't know what you meant.

"You're acting strange, like something was bothering you..."

You said as you stared at him, you knew something was wrong, maybe you didn't say it all the time but you cared too much for him, maybe sometimes you fought and it seemed like you wanted to kill each other and sometimes it was true, but still there was a part of your head that hated the idea that he, your brother, your little brother was in danger or sad.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Damian seemed to simply ignore the subject and want to change the conversation, your brow furrowed at such a response.

"I'm not stupid, Damian, tell me what's wrong? Did you fight with dad again or what?"

You sat a little closer to him, you were going to find out what was wrong with Damian even if it would take you a thousand years

"It's not that, it's just that..."

His voice trailed off in the middle of the sentence, he was hesitating to tell you, he seemed downcast, that wasn't the Damian you knew, he would never have doubted anything

"You... you think I'm weird?"

A laugh came out of your lips and you started laughing like crazy, Damian had never seen you laugh so much in his life as now

"WHAT ARE YOU MAKE FUN OF, STUPID!, ugh I knew I shouldn't tell you, you never take anything seriously"

Damian crossed his arms looking at you angrily, I didn't understand what was funny about the situation, he was telling you something personal and you just... you just laughed!?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! But seriously I've never heard anything so funny in my life"

You tried to stop laughing, you wiped away a tear that fell from your eye before you could speak

"Seriously you ask, of all people you ask me that?"

You said ironically looking at Damian, he just shrugged his shoulders and looked away

"Damian, we are vigilantes, there is nothing normal in our life, the strange thing would be if something was normal, you are literally the son of a very dangerous assassin and I am the daughter of a villain"

You let out a small laugh while saying that, but you saw that Damian's mood didn't change so you decided to get serious

"But hey, seriously, if you are weird but so what? We are all weird and you shouldn't be ashamed of that, I could say that I am weirder than you and I don't care"

Damian was surprised by your words, it was the first time he saw you talking seriously, he always thought you were too stupid and childish but what you just said really surprised him

"Thanks... I think"

"You're welcome, but don't be ashamed of being weird, let's be weird together, what do you think?"

You said giving him a smile as you put your arm around his shoulders and brought him closer to you, it was the first time you had gotten so emotionally close to Damian, you thought he hated you or something but apparently it was far from reality

"That... that's fine with me"

For a second you could see a small smile on Damian's face, that made your heart feel good

A few minutes passed before Damian spoke again

"You dare tell someone about this conversation and I'll cut your throat"

And there he was again the same old Damian, well at least those were the best minutes of your life before Damian went back to being Damian

"Whatever you say, Mr. weirdo"

You let out a laugh as you said those words

"I'M SERIOUS, YOU DARE TO TELL SOMEONE AND I'LL KILL YOU!"

Damian spoke angrily, punching you in the arm

"Hey! That's enough, but stop doing it... HEY, STOP IT, IT HURTS!!"

You shouted, trying to dodge Damian's punches. God, I think you missed the emo Damian...

I imagine the relationship between Damian and BatSis! Reader like that of gumball and anais, i love writing about them, they are so silly

(*^▽^)/★*☆♪

[cozmowrites]

Hidden Among the Shadows

arranged marriage au

====

The faint hum of the heater filled the spacious living room of the apartment. It was modern but lacked warmth, much like its current occupants. Bakugou Katsuki sat at the far end of the couch, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the wall as though it had personally offended him.

You sat across from him, perched on the edge of an armchair, hands folded neatly in your lap. The silence between you stretched thin, so taut it felt like it might snap at any moment.

Your eyes darted to the steaming cup of tea on the coffee table. You'd made it for him as soon as you arrived, desperate to do something to ease the tension. But he hadn't touched it.

"I..." You started, voice soft and barely above a whisper. You felt your cheeks heat up as his crimson eyes flicked toward you, sharp and unyielding. "I'm sorry if the tea isn't to your liking."

Bakugou's eyebrow twitched. "What the hell are you apologizing for?"

You flinched slightly at his tone, your fingers clutching the fabric of your skirt. "I— I just... thought—"

"Stop," he cut you off, leaning forward with a sigh of frustration. "You didn't do anything wrong, so quit saying sorry for every little thing. It's annoying."

Your gaze dropped to your lap, and you nodded quickly. "S-sorry..."

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "This is gonna be a pain in the ass."

You bit the inside of your cheek, the words stinging even though you had expected them. You knew Bakugou wasn't thrilled about this arrangement—neither were you, if you were honest with yourself. But this was the hand you'd been dealt.

Your families had decided this was for the best. A strategic alliance, they called it. Your quirk, Umbra Manipulation, allowed you to control and solidify shadows, an ability that paired well with Bakugou's explosive quirk. Together, they said, you'd have powerful children. You thought quirk marriages were old fashion, but your parents didn't care.

Not that you had any desire to become a hero. You weren't like Bakugou—confident, brash, and full of fire. You preferred the quiet, the background, where you could avoid conflict and simply exist.

But that wasn't an option anymore.

"Hey." His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to find him staring at you, a scowl etched into his face. "You always this quiet?"

You hesitated, unsure if he wanted an answer or if the question was rhetorical. When his eyes narrowed, you quickly nodded. "Y-yes."

"Tch. Great," he muttered, leaning back against the couch. "This is gonna be real fun."

You shifted uncomfortably, the urge to apologize bubbling up again, but you bit it back. Instead, you tried to focus on the room around you. The apartment was clearly his, with minimal decorations and a stark, utilitarian design. Simple, modern. The only personal touch was a shelf lined with All Might memorabilia that you'd think would be kept in his room.

"You don't like talking much, huh?" Bakugou asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You shook your head, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. "Not really..."

"Figures." He crossed his arms, his gaze scrutinizing you. "You better speak up when it matters, though. I'm not dragging dead weight around if we're working together."

The implication made your stomach twist. "I'll... try my best."

"Try?" His voice rose, and you flinched. "There's no try when it comes to this kind of shit. You either pull your weight, or you're useless."

His words hit like a punch to the gut, but you nodded meekly. "I... I understand."

He clicked his tongue in irritation, running a hand through his spiky blonde hair. "Whatever. Just don't get in my way."

The conversation lapsed into silence again, and you couldn't bring yourself to look at him. The weight of his presence was suffocating, like a storm cloud ready to burst at any moment.

"I... I can cook dinner," you offered hesitantly, desperate to fill the void. "If you'd like..."

He glanced at you, skepticism written all over his face. "You can cook?"

You nodded quickly. "Y-yes. I... I've been told I'm pretty good at it."

He huffed, leaning back against the couch. "Fine. Knock yourself out."

Relieved to have a task, you stood and made your way to the kitchen. It was as sleek and modern as the rest of the apartment, with shiny appliances that looked like they'd barely been used. You began gathering ingredients, thankful for something to focus on other than Bakugou's piercing gaze.

As you worked, you felt his eyes on you, though he said nothing. You tried to ignore the pressure, concentrating on chopping vegetables and stirring the pot. The rhythmic motion was calming, a small refuge in the storm.

"Smells decent," he commented after a while, his tone begrudging.

Your lips twitched. You weren't sure how to feel so you just nodded. "Thank you..."

When dinner was ready, you set the table and placed the dishes down carefully. Bakugou joined you, eyeing the food with suspicion before taking a bite.

He didn't say anything, but the fact that he kept eating was enough to ease some of your nerves.

"This is good," he admitted gruffly, barely looking at you.

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected compliment. "R-really?"

"Don't make a big deal out of it," he snapped, but his tone lacked its usual bite.

You nodded quickly. For the first time that day, the tension in the room seemed to ease, just a fraction.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

(Edit: A continuation of this IS a fic.)

(Link to the Wattpad of this fic: https://www.wattpad.com/story/386015240?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=lotusdotpng )

(Link to the AO3 of this fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62753884/chapters/160653781 )

[zuzuelectricbugaloo]

Absolutely fascinating, and I can see exactly what you mean.

From someone describing Cross's personality, including his impulsivity, emotional dysregulation and being spiteful (and approved by Jakei as nailing Cross's character). He's got anxiety, struggles with self-worth and self-esteem yet simultaneously acts so self-absorbed to the point where he has no qualms about being a jerk to literal children.

Take his relationship with XGaster. Cross hates him as much as he wants his approval. Willing to fight against him or alongside him in whatever it takes to get his AU back and to stop the Overwrites (all or nothing). Because for all his dad’s abuse, he’s still his dad, and Cross wants him to be proud of him. (There’s old Jakei pride art where Cross is wearing a rainbow shirt and hugging XGaster, saying “I hate you so much…but I love you” while smiling goofily)

Cross is full of himself, and believes himself to be more powerful and understanding of things than he actually is and feels entitled to his happy ending (tbh fair, considering everything). Or just take that moment of his interaction with Goth for Underverse Studios, where Cross justifies taking and drinking all his chocolate milk because Cross is an "adult" and therefore needs it more than Goth.

This conflates with his anxiety and self-doubt, where he also worries if he’s done enough or if he should’ve done something else but it’s too late, so he buckles down with his decision even if it’s a bad one. If anyone considered themself a “god”, he’d think it nonsense. That everything is run by codes and magic and force of will. So if a deity imagery is used with XGaster then Cross would think it’s up to him to stop that false god

His beef with XMettaton? Full of passive-aggressive interactions between the two especially when Mettaton refused to help Cross when a cow was chewing on his bandana. And it's this moment that gave Cross bovinophobia because he genuinely believed he was about to be beaten.

Then there's all of his unstable relationships with friends and what was once family. XChara causes him so much grief, and when they shared a body he despised the loss of autonomy. But they were also there when he was alone in the Antivoid for who knows how long until Ink came. They’ve become a reluctant companion, but there’s constant friction between the two for both the events that happened with their AU and clashing thoughts on how to handle things, both believing the other to be correct and that the other just messes everything up.

All or nothing with Ink: He believed Ink abandoned him and was never his friend to begin with when Cross had asked Ink to bring his AU back and didn't. All of their history, of how Ink probably kept Cross from going insane from the equivalent of solitary confinement and an emotionally unstable XChara, of how Ink helped Cross develop a passion for art and it's one of the few healthy coping mechanisms he has, all of it is pushed to the side and ignored by what Cross perceived as a slight to him and a manipulative betrayal. How could Ink pretend to be his friend when this whole time, he couldn't bring back XTale, and later on, worked with XGaster to keep his Soul safe and then release it?

All or nothing with Frisk: XFrisk was his best friend, and the betrayal that XFrisk had used Cross and tried to kill him and the others to steal Overwrite from XGaster that kickstarted Underverse in the first place had him throw his locket and rage and hate XFrisk and refuse to accept the name "Cross". A resentment that carried on throughout Underverse and in art of them answering asks, there are brief moments where they're friends again only for Cross to lash out at other moments. And in Underverse the locket is one of Cross's most prized possessions, and he always keeps it on his person. And yet "Cross" is his name, his entire identity, and he lashes out at XPapyrus to the point where he punches him in the face and threatens him with bone attacks until he says his name "Cross".

His brother, who was one of the people Cross wanted revived again more than anything, he's willing to go so far as to enforce his identity by physically attacking XPapyrus who only wanted his brother back.

Aside from his AU back, he wants a sense of normalcy again. He wasn’t always so frustrated or mad all the time, this is a side effect of not only childhood abuse but also trauma from the events of XTale. Not to mention the moments where even as a child, Cross He wants his home back, and more than that, he wants peace and to rest and to be loved (it hurts to distance himself from XPap, but Cross believes it's the only thing he can do now; that he has no other choice) That Cross now and will never be the Sans that XPap knew and loved, and wants to still be accepted by the ones he loves despite having changed so much

All the moments where his body was controlled by others: by XFrisk, XChara, or XGaster, the moments where he's emotionally vulnerable and was manipulated, greatly resemble dissociative episodes, where Cross is so disconnected from his body and even his mind feels out of his control. It's like he's nothing more than a Tool for others to use.

Looking at Cross as a whole, it all aligns much too well with BPD.

ASPD INK WOOOO CLUSTER B REPRESENT!! Nobody can take away Cluster B character headcanons away from me, Cluster B characters I love you

HELL YAAAAAAAA

We love Cluster B in this house

Allow me to actually give you a tiny list of cluster Bs and the characters I associate with them

ASPD: Ink, Nightmare (I’ve been also considering Killer, not yet made a decision tho xhxhxh)

BPD: Nightmare

HPD: Error

NPD: Cross

[stylesluxx]

vocal cords – a. hotchner

[warnings: sad hotch but that's it]

summary: in which y/n encourages aaron to talk about his feelings – inspired by day one of febuwhump

word count: 866

main masterlist

You sang softly as you stirred the pasta on the stove. You weren't belting, just humming quietly, lost in the simple rhythm of it, too happy that Aaron was finally coming home after a week away on a case in Wyoming.

You didn't notice the grim look on his face—sunken eyes, hollow cheeks—until it was too late. You were too caught up in the thought of him walking through the door to realize that he had already walked in.

But when you saw him, you saw him. Everything else fell away. You dropped the spoon and rushed to where he stood in the doorway, his shoulders heavy with something unspoken.

"Aar..." you mumbled, cupping his face. "Hey, what's wrong?"

You gently took his bag from his hand and guided him to the kitchen island. As he sat down, he pressed his head into his hands, and the tension in his posture was enough to make your heart ache.

"What's wrong? What happened?" you asked, more insistently this time.

He didn’t answer; just sat there, his hands hiding his face. You stood there for a moment, watching him, before gently running your fingers through his hair.

"You have a beautiful voice," he mumbled, deflecting, avoiding the question.

"You're too kind," you replied, the edge of sarcasm softening the concern in your voice. "Now tell me, are you okay?"

He sighs and is quiet for a moment. He picks his head out of his hands and looks over at me, letting me take in how disheveled he looked. "I'm fine," He nods and rests his hands on the island. You roll your eyes and cross your arms, giving him the look—the one that says you both know what's going on here. He knows, and you know. The crack in his voice betrays the mask he's desperately trying to hold up. The way he avoids eye contact with you and shakes his head so you can no longer get a clear look at him. You wouldn't say he was closed off. When he was happy or surprised or even nervous, he expressed himself with you. You were the first person he thought of when it came to expressing himself. "I can't wait to tell her about this." "I'm so nervous, I wonder if she'll be happy." But when it came to more negative emotions such as envy, anger, or sadness, he was quiet. He shut down completely but you were slowly breaking into his vault. You could always tell by his voice or the look in his eyes, which is exactly why he looked away from you. His eyes were his tell when it came to you. You always knew. "Why do you hide your sadness from me? You know and I know and I'll always find out." You sighed and rested your hands on top of his large, warm ones. "I don't want to spread it to you." You were quick the shake your head and shushed him, not wanting to hear that nonsense. "Oh stop it." He's slow to look up but when he does, you see it all. All the tension, anger, and sadness, warring in his eyes as he looks at you. None of these emotions are toward you but it's as if he can express them as he looks at you. "I'm just not used to it. I have to be a calm, levelheaded leader at work," He admits. You nodded and gently rubbed his hands. "But when you get home, you don't have to be that. So, why? Why hide yourself from me? You don't have to. You can use your vocal cords and talk to me." "Like I said, I'm not used to it." You nodded as you took a seat next to him. "You've met my dad. You see how I have to practically tie him down to get a hug. Or how I won't let him leave the house without him saying he loves me back. You see how... how he doesn't express himself well," You said softly. Aaron takes a minute, but he nods. He knows how closed off your family was to affection and sharing it. Your family loved you immensely but it wasn't in their nature to say it often and show expressions of it. "Yeah, how he pretends he doesn't like when you hug him..." Aaron chuckled, followed by you. "Yeah... Well, I was just like him. But then I went to therapy and realized how much I needed these things; I needed to hear my dad say that he loved me. I needed his hugs. I'm no profiler, Aar, but this is likely a result of your environment growing up. You're still strong even when you're sad. You're still a 'man' if you're giddy and happy. You're still a good leader if you break down sometimes. And if you can't do it at work, you can always do it with me. Do you understand?" His brown eyes shifted to look into yours and he nodded. "Thank you," He said quietly. His eyes were now relaxed and full of sadness and anger. "Always," You beamed at him and patted his hands. "How about I make you some tea while I finish cooking?" He nodded, causing you to back away from him, and walked to the cabinet and fixed him a cup of tea. He watched on, grateful for you and grateful for his voice.

[AN: day one done :) taglist and ko-fi]

[savvyreyes4587]

Feed My Hunger. Feed My Soul.

PM!Dazai x Fem!Reader

Nakahara Chuuya x Fem!Reader

Summary: The conflict with the serpents' den was nearing its end but so were you, the only issue was no one knew what was wrong or how they could fix it but what if you knew what was wrong and you didn't know if you wanted to fix it.

Author's note: Look at me updating after four months or so, lol. So anyways, here is chapter six, I hope u enjoy it also if you notice small things in the storyline changing please ignore it, I'm just learning more about BSD so yeah, don't hesitate to comment lol.

Taglist: @v15aexe @hotwomanlythings @zaushimo @mintyymao @destinyisastar @lilyosamu @vette-01 @mimiimmii

Chuuya was sitting on the couch in your living room, legs crossed while one of his hands rubbed his forehead, his headaches were becoming more frequent and with your state, they would become an everyday occurrence.

Kouyou and Hirotsu were also with him, the demure woman sat on the couch opposite Chuuya while Hirotsu was standing in front of the apartment windows, seeming to be deep in thought.

"So she's lost it?" Kouyou asked, her voice calm and smooth like honey, meant to give comfort but only those close knew she had an ability strong enough to make one crawl in fear.

Chuuya turned his gaze to her, somewhat offended on your behalf as he answered. "She didn't lose it."

The red haired woman rasied an eyebrow at his quick defense of you and he huffed before he spoke again.

"Something is going on with her, even since those serpents appeared she was fighting all that she could and I saw that she was growing weaker but she couldn't stand at first…"

"Then?"

"Then… she started becoming delirious, saying things that didn't make a scratch of sense, as if she was talking to someone only she was seeing, after that she collapsed and Dazai seemed to understand something and have been by her side ever since."

Before either of the older members could speak their minds, the door to your bedroom opened, revealing their boss, Mori Ogai, his face devoid of emotions but Chuuya only focused on the fact that Dazai wasn't with him.

"Boss?" Chuuya spoke as he moved towards him and he had to double take the sight he saw, his blue eyes wide open.

There you were on the bed, black veins covering your body, face pale and entire being looking fragile enough to break in a mere touch, beside you was Dazai Osmau, his hand grabbing yours tightly and at first glance it didn't make sense but when one looked closer…

Is he nullifying her ability? Chuuya wondered.

"Unfortunately Chuuya-kun, it doesn't look like I could be of help at all… whatever is happening to our precious Weaver isn't something a doctor can cure." Mori explained while eyeing you the same way Chuuya was doing.

Chuuya didn't even realise that Kouyou and Hirotsu were standing there as well as he looked at Dazai for an explanation, something inside him nagging at his emotions… he didn't like seeing you like this.

Dazai's eyes were glued to your sleeping form, as if trying to decipher you. "Whatever is happening to her is something only she can fix, she doesn't get worse when I'm nullifying her ability, in other words-"

"Her ability is killing her." Kouyou continued and the silence between them now was deafening, what could they do when the only person who knew how to stop it wasn't waking up.

Chuuya pursed his lips, hands tightened to fists by his sides, feeling utterly helpless and something inside him was snapping, flashbacks of his own self going through his mind and then it all clicked in place.

The last fight that led you to this, was your fight with that girl, the enforcer of the serpents' den, she did that to you somehow and she was going to undo it.

Dazai's voice filled the void around them. "Chuuya, make her talk, no matter the cost."

"You're not coming?"

At that, Dazai smiled bitterly. "Me leaving her side is me killing her."

Chuuya could only nod, his throat tight at the thought that your fate was now lying in his hands and he would be damned if he let you die on his watch.

Confident footsteps could be heard in the dem space, clicking on the ground with force and making everyone's mind high on alert, some because they knew who was there and for her, because she didn't know what to expect.

The subordinates who were guarding her moved away as soon as the shadow of a certain figure appeared, and she had to try and make it look as if she wasn't at least a bit scared to see him.

Nakahara Chuuya, the gravity manipulator, the previous king of the sheep and the sharp color of his eyes was blazing like a wolf as he took step after step until he was looking down at her and she tried her best to hold his glare.

"Who are you?" Chuuya's voice was laced with a sharp edge that could split people open and she tried her best not to flinch, her wrists burning from the ropes around them and her body numb from all the sitting.

But even through her fear, she knew better, not answering him would only cause more trouble for her circle, she couldn't have that… and there was no one better than her to lead the port mafia on.

"Rinako Sable." Her voice didn't waver, not even for a second, showcasing a false strength inside of her but she also knew that she still saw nothing from the port mafia.

Thus far, they just had her with them, just a prisoner whose fate was yet to be determined but the gears in her were starting to turn faster.

The gravity manipulator gazed at one of the guards who hastily brought him a chair from the dark corners of the basement they were in, Chuuya, hands still stuffed in his pockets, took a seat in front of Rinako.

"Sable…" It almost sounded like he was testing out the name, or perhaps the time weaver had already spoken of what she knew to them and they already knew about the one and only.

"What are you after, Rinako?" He was eerily calm that it made her skin crawl with discomfort, why was he that calm while speaking to an executive in an opposite crime organisation?

Rinako chose silence this time, measuring her words as if she was trading on hefty thin ice and she was, in a way. Any words she said felt like it could set off the strongest ability user and she couldn't afford to die, not yet.

She leaned back in her prison chair, a small smirk on her lips. "A rival criminal organisation, what could we possibly want other than the port mafia's downfall."

Chuuya smiled, but it was a mocking one. "You're like… eight months late. The dragon's head conflict would have been a good time."

"We prefer to be the only stars of the show, sharing the spotlight isn't our thing." Rinako argued, withholding his striking blue eyes and if they weren't on opposite sides she would have given going out with him a thought.

And for the first time since he barged into the basement she actually noticed the small tension in his body, hsi muscles looked stiff and his hands, even inside his pockets were straining against his pants, his jaw clenched as he eyed her warily and it all clicked in her mind.

"She's dying… isn't she? That's why you're here." His gaze turned rough for a moment and she knew she hit the jackpot and she made note of the fact that Nakahara Chuuya cared enough about the Weaver to show off his concern, even slightly.

"You did something when you fought her a week ago-"

"Oh, you mean plucking out her ropes… that was usually child's play." Rinako's eyes widened at her slip up, how could she be so stupid? and she knew that Chuuya noticed it with the way he turned his full attention to her.

"Usually?"

"What do you want from me?" She asked, hoping he would drop it and his attention would go back to his little weaver.

"Undo what you did, Sable." Chuuya ordered, his patience reaching its last thread and he was seconds away from losing his mind.

Rinako shook her head. "I can't-"

"Don't Bullshit me-"

"I can't but she can, she already knows how to cure herself." Rinako yelled out, thrashing in the chair, trying to defend herself.

Chuuya looked as confused as ever and so Rinako explained. "You see those ropes all over her body?"

He nodded.

"Those aren't just ropes… those are souls and they are her lifeline."

"What?"

"The time Weaver wasn't born, she was made. Her ability being no gift and so on comes at a cost, to live and keep using her ability she must take a payment… souls, that she turns into whatever she desires within her powers, such as the ropes of time as she used to call them."

Chuuya felt a lump in his throat and he found it hard to breathe. "She was experimented on?"

With a sigh, Rinako nodded. "Think of it as a trade, a life for a life. There is a hunger inside her that needs to be fed and there is no way around it, the more power she uses, the hungrier she gets."

"H-how does it happen? The process of taking souls."

"She does all the work, just give her someone and she will suck the life out of them until she inhales the souls orb that leaves their dead bodies."

"Then why didn't she do it? You said she knows how to so why-"

"She's not the only thing living inside herself… the hunger inside, it's from whatever it is that gave her the power she has… it needs to be sedated and those souls are its salvations… but the more she feeds the more… that thing takes hold of her."

Before Chuuya could talk she continued. "Plus, she never believed in taking an innocent soul so that she could live, her conscience still alive unlike me."

Chuuya could only shake his head in disbelief… "How do you know all of this?"

"Does it matter?"

"Hell yes, it does."

Rinako looked to the side, blinking away the tears threatening to fall. "Because…"

Something was utterly wrong, you could feel that something was wrong but you couldn't place what or why you felt that.

You looked around and it seemed like you were standing in a very empty and foggy space, it was rather scary and your own voice echoed through the empty space when you talked.

"Is anyone here?" The same sentence repeated over and over again into the nothingness you were in and against your better judgement, you started moving forward, hoping to understand a little of what was happening.

The last few days had been hell for you, your body dying and your mind blurring, things that might be and things that shall never be mixed together, fragments of memories coming and going without a single way to help you understand what was happening.

The Serpents' den were such an exhausting rival, relentless to get to you without any success due to the circle of protection Dazai put you in yet she still found an opening and got you… Rinako.

You didn't remember her at first, your memories were always bits and pieces yet you placed it all together and remembered her but it didn't matter after she tore down your ropes, taking away your ability to simply live.

Keisuke always warned you to be careful of those who knew how you were made but you never believed she would hurt you that much one day and hurt you she did… who could you trust? You didn't know.

'I don't want to.' A small, broken voice said and it had you turning to look behind you faster than light, knowing damn well what was happening now.

Everytime it happened, the same nightmare.

'My little weaver, you have to.' Red, manipulative eyes were looking at the little girl with so much adoration it almost had you fooled from where you stood, watching the memory unfold but you knew better… because you were that young girl one day.

'I'll hurt him.' Little you spoke again, her eyes tearing up at the thought of doing such thing to someone yet Evelyn only tsked at that and knelt down to be on younger you's level.

Evelyn shook her head. 'No, on the contrary, you'll relieve him from his pain, he'll be thankful to you.'

'A-are you sure?' Your heart broke for your younger self, so naive, so….broken as you wondered back then if you believed Evelyn’s words because you thought she was telling the truth or simply to avoid her wrath.

Still Evelyn nodded and so did little, the all familiar ropes stretching from under your veins and into the wounded man in front of you, wrapping all over his body like a soothing touch before it started happening.

A once young face turning all wrinkly and old, thinning and decaying in the matter of second, body turning into bones and those loud whimpers turned quiet then he stopped moving all together as a circular shaped thing appeared in the air and you took in your hand.

Bringing it closer to your mouth as your lips fell open and you took a long, large inhale, the orb disappearing little by little before it was completely gone and another rope shot out of your body… a new soul and tears ran down your face at the memory.

'See… you saved him from his pain.' Evelyn’s eyes shined with renowned interest, you were going to be her legacy… her greatest creation.

Suddenly multiple voices were heard around in the void you were standing in, they were panicked voices, your name being called over and over again that had you covering your ears with your hands and clenching your eyes shut.

"WAKE UP!" And your eyes opened with that command, body shooting up into a sitting position, to find yourself back in your room, your right hand held in by someone as the terrified eyes of Chuuya caught yours as he stepped closer.

The hand holding yours tightened its hold and you turned to find Dazai, his eyes filled with emptiness you had never seen before and you started panicking inside… What happened when you were asleep?… How long were you asleep?

Your name was called by that familiar voice and your eyes widened as you turned to look at her… Rinako.

"W-what are you doing here? What's happening-" Your protests were cut off when your vision darkened for a second and you laid back down on the bed as you tried to regain your strength.

Yet Rinako still answered you, her voice breaking. "Your heart stopped beating… you almost died."

"You should have let it happen, I won't-"

"Yes, you will." Dazai's voice was cold, distant and terrifying as he gazed into your unhinged eyes.

How did he know… Rinako… she told them… she told them everything…

Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist.

[raina16]

Yeah it's old but it gave me thoughts.

No it isn't. Because his intent was to steal the ships, not to kinslay. That was presented as a situation that got out of hand, not premeditated. I don't think the burning thing works that way. He threatens but doesn't actually hurt someone who was after all actually doing what Feanor said, trying to usurp him(we know this didn't cause him to get burnt because he had the Silmarils for 5 years after). He gets in a situation that gets out of hand and inadvertently leads to many deaths. He leaves behind a bunch of people who have been complaining about him non stop for two years because they refuse to take responsibility for their choices, with their preferred choice for king in a land that's safer than where he's going to, with the full belief they'll turn back, and who would mostly be free to go back and get probably a slap in the wrist from the Valar at worst and who choose of their own free will to cross the ice they'd already decided was too dangerous (and guess what it was and lots of people died but that's on them not Feanor). And he burns the ships. That's probably actually the worst thing he purposely chooses to do. Frankly I don't think anything Feanor does would meet the requirements of getting burned by his own Silmarils (plus I have doubts as to whether his own creations would hurt him, the Valar can hallow them all they want but THEY didn't create them and they cannot create them or unmake them,only he can).

In fact aside from deciding to to give the order to steal the ships, Feanor I don't believe is mentioned again in regards to it. Hell for all we know he didn't kill anyone personally in that battle, he might have just knocked people out(unlikely obviously but just saying, after giving the order to steal, he's not personally implicated again). Heck iirc Fingon is more personally implicated in the actual slaying of kin than Feanor or his sons at Alqualonde.

As for the Teleri, they refused to give the ships, lend the ships or even teach them to build their own ships. The Teleri wouldn't even ferry them themselves. That's extreme and kind of selfish if you ask me considering all the Noldor and specifically murdered Finwe had done for them. Gift giving is a symbol of friendship yes, but that means there is some reciprocity otherwise it's not friendship, if one side does most of the giving, you're being used, friend. It's not about the houses they built for them or the jewels they gave them in abundance, but those were symbols of friendship and friends do stuff for each other. Feanor expected at least some help getting across the sea in vessels actually made for the purpose of sailing the sea and they cared more about the Valar's opinion than about the murder of the guy largely responsible for most of the Teleri people being there.

None of which means they deserved it but again the plan wasn't "murder the Teleri" it was "steal the ships". Kind of funny everyone telling him it's a-okay for someone to steal from you(and murder your most beloved father), you shouldn't do anything about it, immediately start drowning people when they are the ones being stolen from.

As for the Silmarils Feanor started keeping them hidden mostly because he believed (not without reason) that the Valar wanted them(they did) and that Melkor was after them(he was). Is it really paranoia if it's true?

In his speech he speaks of them as essentially being central to creation of a new Noldor kingdom in Middle Earth. That suggests to me that they would not in fact be hidden away. It seems to me that Feanor sees them as the way to free his people from what he feels is their stolen birthright, a life in Middle Earth, to be kept essentially as what he feels are pets in Valinor.

It sounds like it would basically be like what we know as but Feanor didn't at the time, Doriath but by the Noldor and without being dependent on any Ainur for safety. And if it's Ok for Doriath to exist why would it be wrong for the Noldor to have their own special protected kingdom? Why is it OK for Thingol and later for Finrod and for Turgon but somehow it would be wrong for Feanor to have a kingdom of light for his people? Why was it ok for the Valar to decide only their special friends could have light but somehow it's wrong for Feanor?

Hmmm...You know...it's kind of protestant maybe that's why Catholic Tolkien was against it. One of the early ideas of many protestant branches was having a direct relationship with God - no need for saints or virgins to intercede(or priests to grant you "absolution"). Feanor twice puts forth the idea of a direct relationship to Eru without the intercession or need for the saints/Ainur.

And Varda hallowed the Silmarils, so that thereafter no mortal flesh, nor hands unclean, nor anything of evil will might touch them, but it was scorched and withered… 

-Of The Silmarils And The Unrest of the Noldor

I’ve seen people wonder if the Silmarils would have burned Fëanor had he regained them after Alqualondë. Out of curiosity, what is the line of thinking behind the argument that they wouldn’t? He committed felony murder before he left Aman. Even if he personally didn’t physically get blood on his sword, it was at his behest, in a situation of his making. He may not qualify as evil, but his hands are definitely unclean.

[thenweatefivesoups]

I would like to take a moment to talk about a Dog Man character.

This character is super popular. Some people hate this character with a passion. Some people think this character is adorable. Not many people think this character is very deep.

But I do, and I'd like to talk about him for a second.

Think you have a guess?

It's Li'l Petey.

You may not agree with me. After all, he's the kid-appeal character who loves poop jokes and diarrhea punchlines just for the fun of it. "He can't possibly be that deep!", you say.

But consider how he came into existence: cloned from the (so-called) world's most evilest cat, created to do nothing but heinous acts, and when he didn't fulfill that purpose and instead acted like himself, he was abandoned.

Not even a day old, and not only did he get abandoned by his only caretaker, he eventually found the strength somewhere to forgive him. And not only that, but claim that this caretaker is, quote "easy to love".

It takes a ton of compassion, a truckload of love, to forgive something as traumatic as that. And later, in Grime and Punishment, Li'l Petey encourages Petey to do the same to his father. Make no mistake, this is not because Grampa deserves it; rather, it's because resentment, as Carrie Fisher once put it, "is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die."

While Li'l Petey forgives those who did wrong to him, he does not redeem everyone. Sure, he reformed Flippy, Molly, and Petey, and attempted to do it to Piggy, but my main point is that he stopped trying to reform Grampa. He talks to him in For Whom the Ball Rolls about love being an action in addition to a feeling:

And then he visits Cat Jail in Fetch-22, thinking Grampa's changed. After all, if the most cold-hearted villains (Petey, Flippy) had good hearts deep down, couldn't his Grampa have one too?

But after the eighth book, other than a brief "good night" in Grime and Punishment, Li'l Petey completely stops interacting with Grampa. He doesn't even say a word to him in Big Jim Begins, despite the fact that they crossed paths multiple times. Why is that?

Because when they went to Cat Jail, he was tricked, knocked out, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up in a recycling bin.

You've gotta wonder if this gave him flashbacks. To when his life was hard, and filled with fright, after he suddenly became an unloved orphan. At the very least, this would have spooked him, especially since he ran home (this kid's a pigeon I'm telling you) and saw Grampa disguised as Petey, but no sign of his Papa.

The last thing I want to talk about is character development. Yes, even if it isn't as obvious as Petey or Chief, he did have some growth beyond what was mentioned earlier. Certainly more than Dog Man did (ha).

Initially, Li'l Petey constantly keeps his head in the clouds; Petey points this out in For Whom The Ball Rolls. He's a driving force of optimism and compassion, which sets him apart from other goofy kid characters, especially Molly. (I should right an essay about that too)

But Li'l Petey is kind to a fault. He invites his grandfather to his house to make his Papa feel better, and their house is trashed and eventually robbed. He convinces his Papa to visit him, thinking he can change just like those he reformed did, and they both got drugged. He leaves the house to save the world, and his Grampa leaves to end it. Ultimately, the end of Fetch-22 is when Li'l Petey finally stopped trying to redeem Grampa, instead opting to forgive him and move on.

In Grime and Punishment, Petey asks if he only fights when he's face-to-face with pure evil. Initially, Li'l Petey doesn't respond. But guess what happened three books later?

He did encounter pure evil. And obliterated it.

Contrary to popular belief, he's not always a pacifist; he's learned when to fight and when to use love over the course of the story. That kind of growth is very subtle and very underrated.

And that concludes my analysis on a Dog Man character who many find "annoying" and "pointless". And as this supposedly annoying, pointless character always says:

[bubblegumrabbitwriting]

How would the ros react to finding out mc is hiding their injuries? 🫣

Ohhh good ask, as soon as I read it, I imagined the MC getting the injury while protecting/taking the attack for the RO, so I'm going to run with that.

Reaction's below, thank you for the ask. 😊

Echo -

As soon as they see the MC take the hit for them, she is angry, angry at herself for being so useless in situations like this, angry at the person who attacked her, and angry that you're both even in this situation.

When MC brushes her off, she continues on as normal. You're strong; the possibility that you might be hurt doesn't even cross her mind, but when she finally sees the truth. All the anger goes back to herself; how stupid can she be? You're human. "Don't, don't try and hide your pain from me. You've already done so much for me; at least let me do this for you." Will try to help with your wound best she can with shaky hands.

Cy -

When you take the hit for them, they don't miss a beat, pushing forwards and attacking the attacker without stopping and moving on to the next target. This is what you were both trained for, what you're used to. Something so small wouldn't take out the MC; it would be an insult to even think it.

But when they see the MC struggling, trying to hide the hurt. They're by your side in an instant; they know how you move, how each step should carry the weight of your body. This isn't right. "Rest now." They are checking you over with all the preciseness of a doctor, using whatever little medical expertise they have to try to wrap the MC wounds. "Are you stupid?" Even as they try to infuse the words with bite, it fails. Coming out as nothing but a strangled whisper as their emotions get the better of them, they need to be stronger, faster; you shouldn't have needed to get hurt because of them.

Will do everything they can to make it so that the MC isn't put into situations like that again, even if it means that they have to go alone.

A -

As soon as MC takes the form, they throw a "Love you, darling." Continuing on as normal, they didn't ask MC to do it; why should they worry over them?

When they see the MC trying to hide the hurt, that all changes; they will keep up the same facade on the surface, but inside they are reeling. Why do they care? Why is the MC trying to hide that they are hurt because of them? The MC should be angry. They will wait till it's just the MC and them. "Let me see it." When the MC replies that there is nothing to see. They don't wait, sauntering over to the MC and forcing them to sit as they try and locate the wound. "Why... Don't do that again. I didn't ask for you to protect me, and don't hide your wounds. Do you want to end up dying from an untreated cut or internal bleeding?" One of the rare times they are actually outwardly frazzled.

Will drag the MC to the nearest doctor and stay by their side the whole time. If the MC actually stays for treatment, they will give them a reward in their own way.

Salem -

Not even waiting for whatever fight is happening to be at the MC's side, she has hidden wounds before. Know that it's not as simple as someone telling you to go get it treated, while at the MC side for the rest of the day and making little comments to the rest of the group like "Let's take a quick break." To make it easier for the MC without bringing it too light.

When they are alone, they are checking the MC over and just saying it's a 'routine checkup,' will patch up the MC as best as they can, and let out a soft "thank you." while doing it, not making a big deal out of it but making sure that the MC knows that she will keep an eye out for them in whatever way she can.

Harper -

As soon as you're out of danger, Harper is rushing to your side and making sure you're okay; even if you brush them off, they are keeping close to you for the rest of the day. Even if they are not the most competent in battle as the rest of you, they are in first aid, and they will offer whatever comfort they can.

When you wince when doing a basic movement, they won't let you carry on. One of the few times when they push aside their meekness. "Sit; you're hurt, and I won't allow you to pretend that you're not." Seeing that the injury is the one you got protecting them, they pause, biting back tears as they help in whatever way they can. "P-promise you won't do that again." They won't stop until the MC promises to both never hide their injuries or put themselves in harm's way again. Will follow MC for the rest of the day to make sure they're not hiding anymore.

[dangoulains-devotion]

thinking just a bit too hard about how the added depth given to tifa and aerith's friendship only increases the weight threatening to crush tifa after the forgotten capital, she already had so much to carry on her weary shoulders, she's going to have to carry even more when mideel happens, and it doesn't even stop after meteorfall, ohg od oh i love her so much i

[purplesaline]

Actually you know what

I was gonna leave all this in the tags but I need to bring this bit here.

Hirsch's criticism of the Unicorn not being grateful for the "help" he gave her is far, far too much like the criticism disabled folks get when some "well-meaning" stranger "helps" them without stopping to ask if the help is even needed. I know people in wheelchairs that have been pushed somewhere they didn't want to go because someone just assumed they wanted to.

I'm not even blind but because I had a service dog a cashier assumed I was and grabbed my hand to move it to the pin pad when I was paying with my debit card! I have PTSD as a result of interpersonal trauma. A random stranger grabbing me like that could have gone SO wrong.

And if we get, rightfully, angry about being "helped" rather than expressing gratitude we're accused of being rude and unappreciative. It doesn't matter that the help wasn't asked for and wasn't even about US in the first place, just like the Wizard helping the Unicorn wasn't about her.

Following the author of The Last Unicorn on Facebook is the only thing that makes being on that site worthwhile.

(source)

[singmyaubade]

Good Luck Babe

poly!marauders x nerd!female!reader

summary: after being a wallflower throughout your first five years at hogwarts, you always thought that you could be invisible. but when you hear the marauders talking cruelly about you and proceeding to ask for your forgiveness after, well good luck babe.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, reader wants to kill the marauders , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy

a/n: oh hey... this is kinda based on those cliche 2000's movies where the girl is ugly but not really and she has that glow up or whatever. this was written so quick and not proofread, don't kill me. i hope you enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this!

STARTING off your sixth year at Hogwarts being an entirely new person wasn't something that you had planned or expected.

On the inside, you felt exactly the same, the same girl who was bold and could ferociously win a fight when it came to her character.

The same girl who was witty and sarcastic, surprising half of the people around you when you made a joke once in a lifetime.

But on the outside, you didn't have an awkward mis-shaped bob and you no longer wore baggy jackets that didn't do a thing for your figure.

And you didn't hide your face anymore, trying your best to be invisible.

It wasn't that you were shy or that you felt like a loser but you thought social hierarchy was bullshit and the only thing you wanted to focus on was your studies.

You may have been a brave Gryffindor on the inside but on the outside, you had to play the part of a shy mouse as corny as that sounds.

Unfortunately for you, invisibility only tends to last for so long until one moment, you are a nobody and then all eyes are upon you.

And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't heard the Marauders discussing you the previous year, you would have stayed the same.

You had passed by the boys dormitory to give Remus his textbooks back as you always did when you let you borrow when you heard them speaking of the very person behind the door,

"I still have yet to understand why Lily and the rest of them act like she's some charity case," James huffed, "I mean, she's not some sick patient, they only feel the need to pity her because of how she looks."

You always knew that James had a foul mouth but to be speaking about someone like this, it was cruel.

Remus hissed, "That's not nice Prongs,"

"I'm not even saying it to be a dick!" James groaned, "I just mean, I pity her more for the fact that they don't even invite her to anything outside of breakfast and dinner," He explained, causing Remus to go silent.

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. "That's absolutely horrid."

James reclined on his bed, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’m just saying, if I were Y/N, I’d be mortified."

Your eyes widened as they began to water, they were speaking about you.

Remus leaned against the wall, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Maybe she just doesn’t want to hang out with Lily and the others."

"Moony, seriously," James shot back, sitting up. "Where is Y/N right now, and where are the other girls?" His eyebrow cocked, trying to make his point as Remus silenced.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Why don’t we investigate for ourselves?" He unfolded the Marauder's Map with a flourish. "Alright, we’ve got Lily, Dorcas, Mary, and Marlene all at Hogsmeade, but Y/N is..." His voice trailed off, eyes narrowing.

James leaned closer, annoyance creeping into his tone as he grabbed the map, "She's-" He stopped, the color fading from his face.

"Fucking spit it out!" Remus said next as he snatched the map finally and saw that the map had shown that you were right outside their door.

"Shit!" You heard Remus say as he started making his way to the door.

Hearing his footsteps approaching, you quickly moved away from the door, bolting for your room.

Once you made it back to your dorm, you had sinked the floor. You put your hand on your mouth, muffling yourself as you cried silently.

You honestly hated to even say it but you did consider Lily and the rest of them your friends. You had never really thought about how they didn't invite you to places.

And if you were being truthful, they had never asked you to have breakfast or dinner with them.

You had always just assumed that you could join but they never told you to leave or swooshed you off. Another part of you hated how stupid you were, trying to intrude on their private time.

You didn't want to let it get to you what a bunch of seventeen year old boys were saying but it did sting horribly.

But in a way, it also motivated you to be who you were on the inside. You already had the top marks in your entire year and your plan to work in the Ministry after Hogwarts had already been set.

And now your chance to be something at Hogwarts was right in front of you, an opportunity that you couldn't miss.

You had to do it for yourself.

The Marauders had no idea who you truly were or even cared to know. And although Remus was kind to you, you could always see that he never made any effort to be your friend.

Not that you expected him to but it only taught you that they truly thought you were some hopeless case.

And an assignment to make the Marauders bite their tongues was one that you couldn't bare to fail.

After hearing that, you decided to avoid the Marauders for the next month, especially with summer break approaching. To your surprise, you barely saw them outside of classes, never giving them a chance to reach out—even Remus.

And then that summer, everything changed. You let your hair grow past your shoulders, embracing your natural curls instead of straightening them. You started wearing clothes that were trendy and form-fitting, a huge contrast to your old style.

You discovered a newfound love for self-care, enjoying the process far more than you expected. Each day felt like a transformation, and by the end of summer, your mother couldn’t help but notice. “Finally listening to me about your style, huh?” she teased.

You only laughed as you embraced her,

If only she knew what had caused it in the first place.

As you said goodbye to your family, anticipation mingled with dread. You knew the train ride would be the least of your worries, but the welcome dinner and the ceremony ahead felt like they might just be hell reincarnate.

As you entered Hogwarts, you admired it as much as you did when you were a first year. The castle was something you considered a second home and everything about it was magical, there was no doubting that.

A crowd of students, including yourself, moved toward the Great Hall, and you settled into your usual seat at the Gryffindor table.

You spotted the Marauders and the usual group of girls approaching, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They took their usual spots in front of you, with the girls on one side and the boys on the other. James sat beside you, and Lily was directly in front of him.

You never quite understood why they arranged themselves like that, but it hardly mattered in the moment.

They were busy in conversation before James had noticed someone next to him, his eyes widening. You couldn't quite read his face but it seemed like a mix of confusion and flustered.

You stared at him back but he still had yet to mutter a word. You cleared your throat, "Uh hello," You practically whispered.

He snapped back into reality, "Oh sorry, hi," He muttered back.

Silence took over you both as James couldn't find the words of what to say to you.

On one hand, he wanted to call you beautiful, to tell you that you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. On the other, he just wanted to stare at you for a few more minutes like a creep.

Lily noticed his gaze and leaned in, smirking. "Excuse my friend; we’re still trying to figure out if he has a brain."

"I thought we solved that decades ago," Marlene chimed in, stifling a laugh.

Lily turned to you with a curious smile. "I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. What’s your name?"

Are you actually fucking kidding me?

You scoffed, "I'm Y/N,"

The entire group looked at you in awe, even the ones who weren't chimed in on the conversation.

"Y/N L/N?" Sirius asked, mouth gaping.

"Yep, that one," You snorted.

They all looked like they had seen a ghost, "You look different," Marlene said as Mary shoved her.

"She means in a good way!" Mary added.

"Uh thanks," You said, awkwardly.

They all continued to stare at you like you were an exhibit in a museum, their eyes scanning you up and down.

"Do you all mind not staring at me?" you asked, trying to break the tension. They all looked away, feigning innocence as they muttered apologies.

"How have you been?" Lily asked, clearly trying to ease the awkwardness.

"Fine," you replied, your tone clipped.

You caught the pained expressions on the Marauders' faces, realizing they were the reason for your dismissive attitude.

"That's great," Lily said, forcing a smile.

You felt a wave of frustration at the awkwardness surrouding you and decided it was time to escape. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you announced, heading toward the exit before they could respond.

As you walked away, you could already here the mutters and whispers emerging from the table, the fascinating topic being you.

You paced as you heard footsteps trailing behind you, but you ignored them, letting your gaze wander around the castle.

"Y/N!" someone called out, startling you.

You turned to see Sirius, James, and Remus hurrying after you. You only let out a snort before continuing your same way.

A hand suddenly reached around your forearm as you turned to see Remus. You quickly snatched your hand away, finally stopping to look at the group of boys who you despised.

Crossing your arms, you shot them a hostile look. "What?"

"We just wanna—"

"We're so—"

"Listen, we just—"

They all spoke at once, but you scoffed and turned back toward the bathroom, starting to walk away.

You were hoping that they would realize you wanted nothing to do with them but instead, it only made them want to chase you more.

They quickened their pace, and you spun around sharply. "For fuck's sake, what do you want?" you snapped.

James took a breath, his expression earnest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I've been thinking about it since you left. I was an awful twat, and you didn't deserve a thing of what I said."

You let out a sarcastic laugh, "Are you serious?" You asked as your expression changed to furious, "You basically called me a loser and said that Lily and the rest of them were only hanging out with me out of pity,"

James hissed as your statement, feeling the razor in your voice.

"-And now you all want to act as if I should just forgive you since I don't look the same anymore," You got closer to James's face, "Fuck off."

You turned your heel again and this time, the boys didn't follow you.

You finally entered the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you struggled to read the expression on your face. You were furious at the Marauders, and the idea of forgiving them felt impossible.

Yet, there was a flicker of gratitude that you felt for the change you’d undergone. You’d gained a new confidence that felt good, but the sting of their cruel words still lingered in your mind.

And you knew that you couldn't let it get to you but knowing they thought that of you, even Remus. It still did things to you that you would never admit out loud.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you realized it was almost time to head to the dormitory.

The rest of the night had flown by, with first years being introduced to their new home for the next six years while everyone else relaxed in the common room. Despite curfews, fifth years and above knew they could hang out longer—the curfew was mostly for the first years anyway.

"Caput Draconis," you muttered, and the Fat Lady nodded, granting you entrance.

Stepping into the common room, your heart sank as you spotted the last group you wanted to see. They noticed you just as quickly, encouraging you to pick up your pace toward the dorm.

"Hey, Y/N!" Dorcas called out, making you wince as you turned to see her waving.

The Marauders looked down, shame etched on their faces, avoiding your gaze as if you were Medusa.

You approached them slowly, dread settling in your stomach as they eyed you like a science project.

"We were just about to play a fun little game," Dorcas said enticingly, while Marlene snorted beside her.

"I don’t know if Spin the Bottle is a great idea for the first night back," Marlene added, taking a sip of her beer.

"A little peck never hurt anyone," Lily chimed in, clapping her hands together.

Of all people, you’d never expect Lily Evans to approve such a thing. This was the same girl who nearly fainted when she heard about Marlene and Dorcas kissing the previous year.

"I don’t know if this is the game for me," you replied, eyeing the group warily.

"Of course it is!" Lily insisted, but you raised an eyebrow. "Oh my gosh! Not like that, I just mean it's a fun game for us all to play," she quickly added, looking flustered.

Part of you wanted to say no and retreat to your bed, but that was the old you, and you knew it wouldn’t help. This was a new year, and you were determined to embrace new experiences.

Besides, you’d never participated in any scandalous games for all of the years you've been at Hogwarts—it felt like a crime in itself.

So, after a moment’s hesitation, you said, "Okay, sure." The girls erupted in cheers, while the Marauders exchanged worried glances.

What if you had to kiss one of them? Would you refuse and create a scene? Would you want to strangle them for even suggesting it?

The possibilities raced through their mind, but there was no turning back as everyone began to form a circle.

As you sat in the circle, a shiver of nervousness enveloped you. You had never kissed anyone before and the whole thought made you nervous within itself.

Don't get it wrong, you've had chances but they never seemed right and you certainly weren't kissing Matthew Trunchbull underneath the bleachers of the Quidditch field.

So when you got offered a shot of firewhiskey to cool your nerves by Marlene, you took it happily as it burned down your throat.

You brushed off all the negative thoughts entering your mind,

What really is the worst thing that could happen?

[mameillieureennemie]

halloooo can I request a short fic of modern au college vi x reader, reader is vi's room mate and a nursing student that needs to review for her exams and memorize human anatomy and what the muscles are called. Since Vi is pretty fit she comes up with this joke that she can write the muscle names on Vi's body, and Vi surprisingly agrees to it and I'll leave the rest up to u :3

this was so much fun to write! thank you, anon, i'm buzzing.

college roommates!vi x reader, modern au, nursing student!reader, rated m

You knew this would be a bad idea.

You were highly aware of it when you thought of it, and even more so when you asked. But you didn't know what else to do, and honestly, you had always been a visual learner.

Plus Vi was your roommate and was always talking about if you needed any help, you should never hesitate to ask her.

But asking for help like this was...bold...and brave...and maybe a little bit stupid.

Even if you did initially joke about it because this was never supposed to come to fruition.

There was no turning back now, though.

"So you just want me to take off my shirt?" Vi asks, both of you stood in the middle of your living room. She's looking at you, inquisitive, and you manage a nod while trying to find your voice.

Which is hard, considering you're so close to seeing Vi with her shirt off. Which isn't new because Vi walks around shirtless all the time. She basically lives in her sports bra when she's at home, but this is different.

You'll be getting up close and personal with a shirtless Vi. Running your fingers over her defined muscles as you memorise them. Feeling the heat of her skin against yours because she always runs hot. It's tricky territory that you're falling into, especially considering your preexisting feelings for the woman in front of you.

Damn you and your stupid jokes.

Damn Vi for entertaining your stupid jokes and making them real.

You watch as Vi takes her shirt off in that infuriatingly attractive way. Both of her hands crossed at the hem of her shirt before pulling it over her head. Your eyes are instantly drawn to her abs and the flex of her arms and you may not survive this.

Vi smiles at you, pretty and gorgeous, and so beautiful it hurts and spreads her arms open as if saying come at me.

The gesture makes you snort but also has you feeling a little warm. Especially with how her muscles shift beneath her skin at every move she makes. It's so hypotising.

"Okay, so I'm gonna write on you, and I'm gonna get real close because anatomy," you explain lamely, but Vi nods, listening seriously. "If you get uncomfortable or it's too much, then just tell me, and we'll stop."

Vi nods again, smiling. "Thanks, sweetheart. But I highly doubt that will be a problem." She says and you hum, curious.

"And why's that?" You asks, uncapping a washable marker and nearing Vi's left bicep.

Vi shrugs, turns her head away for a second, and when you glance at her face, you swear you see a hint of pink across her cheeks.

"Because it's you," she murmurs, quiet but loud enough for you to hear and oh.

"I see," you mumble, all warm on the inside and without an answer to give.

You take your time memorising Vi's body, writing down scientific names over the correct parts, and changing up the marker's colour to add fun to it.

Vi seems genuinely interested in what you're doing, even asking questions that help with your memorisation. The once tender atmosphere is light with your chatter and laughter, both of you smiling as you go through anatomy together.

Running the tip of the marker over Vi's collarbone has her squirming because she's ticklish, and you can't help but write over the bone again. You do it twice more, grinning as Vi tells you to knock it off. You tell her you won't, and she makes you swear, but that lasts for about ten seconds before you're back to it.

"You're such a jerk!" Vi exclaims, laughing as she tries to snatch the marker from you. But you're fast, and you end up dancing away from her as she attempts to grab at it.

"How can you not grab this from me?" You tease as you dodge another one of her reaches. "And you work out way more than me. This is an embarrassing moment for you."

Vi growls (oh, that's an interesting noise), and you squeal as she lunges with a speed she hadn't bothered to showcase until now. Your attempt at dodging is pathetic, and Vi has an arm around your waist as she presses you against the living room wall. Her other arm has its hand wrapped around your marker-wielding wrist and trapped above your head.

"You were saying how this was embarrassing for me?" Vi murmurs, sounding triumphant, and you'd hit back with a snarky retort but you can't because your tongue is tied.

Vi's pressed up against you, chest to chest, skin to skin, and she's so warm. Her face is mere inches away from yours, the tip of her nose almost touching yours, and you can see just how blue her eyes are. Just how red her lips are and how plump they look.

Your eyes dart up from her lips, and you catch Vi doing the same. That has your head spinning, seeing that she's also looking at you like that.

Like she wants to...

"Vi," you whisper for no reason you can decipher. You don't know why you're calling her name, but all you know is that you're burning up, and your heart is beating too loudly in your ears.

But then Vi takes that leap, lets loose a soft whimper before whispering, "Can I...? Please can I...?"

You're nodding your head faster than you can speak, but Vi's on your lips before you can even say yes.

The way she kisses you has your knees weakening. Her lips are surprisingly soft and taste like the strawberries she ate with her lunch. The inside of her mouth is even sweeter, and she echoes your moan as her arm around your waist tigthens. Her hand holding yours against the wall comes down to grasp your chin, tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss and ah.

You pull away for air, cheeks flushed, and vision hazy as Vi trails open-mouth kisses down your neck. Your hands slide into her hair, nails grazing over her scalp, and you gasp as her deep groan sinks to your skin.

Then she's making her way back to your mouth, and you pull her in greedily, allowing her to lift you up so your legs wrap around her waist.

"Sweetheart," Vi rasps, managing to pull away for a moment. She barely resists you drawing her in for another kiss, your hands cradling her cheeks. "Sweetheart, what about your exams? I wouldn't—wouldn't want you to fail and—?"

"Vi," you say breathlessly, resting your index finger over her lips. "Pretty girl, what's another way for one to learn about anatomy?"

Vi looks at you before the blues of her eyes darken further, and she's nipping at your jaw.

"I can think of one way."

[missglaskin]

“You’re such a perv!” 

Aka DC Superheroes as pervs; Dick, Jason, Tim, Roy, Wally

Please don't put a community label on this (it will only shadow ban it)

Surely your friend and confidant is not some peeping tom right?!

Warnings/tags; SMUT, female reader, vigilante!reader, Perv shenanigans, panty stealing, masturbation, dirty thoughts, corruption kink, invasion of privacy

Dick Grayson has always been your closest friend; he's the leader, the guy that everyone either wants to be like or wants him for themselves. But the boy wonder had his eyes on you, his oblivious friend. He has always been there, aiding you in missions; always saving the day, or praising you for a job well done. So how could you ever possibly know of his intense desire just for you. Dick knows his actions are downright disgusting, that small voice inside his head filling him with guilt, but his desire is just stronger. 

Missions with you are the worst. Watching you be so confident and just kick ass has him feeling all sorts of ways. Trying to turn away from your line of sight so you won't see his hard-on, his cock rubbing uncomfortably against his suit. Dick will use any excuse to get away, jerking off on the side of a rooftop, a hand against a wall and another stroking his cock, while he imagines it was your hand instead, and that alone pushes him over the edge. 

He'll find a way to make you want him too, Dick knows you're not immune to his charms. Will it be too obvious that when he goes for a hug, it's a little too tight. Is it when he places a hand on your waist pretending to keep you in place, daring his fingers to go further down. Will you push away the hands that place themselves on your thighs to pretend he's comforting you. You won't. Just as you refuse to shove away the fingers that inch closer and closer between your legs. Is it really so bad if you want him too.

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

Jason Todd knows he's a sick fuck. What kind of friend is he to even think of such things. But they are just thoughts, right? As long as he doesn't do anything creepy that is. Surely anyone dreams of fucking their best friend-that is, imagining your lips wrapped around his dick while he fists your hair, forcing you to take all of him. The guilt returns when your voice reaches him, asking him if he heard you, interrupting his brief moment of fantasy. He's relieved that the mask doesn't allow you to see how intensely he's staring at you.

It becomes a line he knows he crossed. When Jason found himself staring at your apartment window - he didn't intend to, he was just patrolling and happened to come across your apartment. Knowing you were safe and well should have been his reason to leave, until you started undressing. Seeing your tits exposed made the blood rush to his cock and when you bent slightly to remove your panties, Jason was sure he could have come right on the spot. 

You went to take a shower as Jason entered your apartment. Surely you must know to keep your window locked. Finding himself creeping toward the bathroom as if you were beckoning him in, instead, he stopped and stood over the disregarded clothes; reaching for the panties. Jason would have beaten anyone to a bloody pulp if they had done that, but it was his own reflection staring at him. He is a sick fuck, he thinks as his finger brushes over the damp spot and how he shoves it into his pockets. He's not sure if he should return your panties later, given that he eagerly rubbed his cock with it, leaving it cum stained.

-----------

Tim Drake is a wolf in sheep's clothing; he is the one person you never suspect of thinking such perverted thoughts. Tim is aware he can never justify the things he's doing. He just tells himself that he merely lacks the courage to approach you, not that it's a good reason, but it's enough for him to maintain that tiny sliver of morality. There are moments when he wishes he could just concentrate on his patrolling to keep you off his mind, but you are always there, at the back of his mind. 

Tim realizes he just can't get off without thinking about you. Tim tries watching some porn, but he keeps imagining your face instead of the actress, and he hates how it helped him reach his orgasm. Or in the mornings, when his boner is becoming too much of an issue and he's in the shower trying to rid of it. His thoughts wander to picturing you in front of him, bare and wet, with your back against the glass walls and you moaning his name. 

If there was ever a time that Tim was made known that he was really sick was that day. Him laying in bed stroking his cock and seeing the phone ringing in the corner. It's you. He ought to have just let it ring or decline, but Tim didn't know what possessed him to answer the call. Your voice is heard as he bites his lip to not let his whimpers be heard, tasting copper on his tongue. Tim moves the phone further away when he reaches his high, cum covering his hands and stomach as he continues the conversation, hoping you don't hear his ragged breath.

-----------

Roy Harper was the one person you could always confide in. He had a way of cheering you up, your tears dried as your laugh echoed throughout the room. How you consider him to be your closest friend and best partner in crime as you speak to him, while Roy thinks of how the low cut of your shirt gives him a good view of your tits from an angle. When you call his name to get his attention, Roy gives you that smile of his as he uses an excuse to use the restroom. 

Roy loves taking pictures of you. You knew Roy had them, just never imagined he would have them in his sights while he jerked off. Pictures of you with a skirt had Roy fantasize about wearing em while he's railing you from behind. Your face pressed against the pillow while you bubble nonsense, too drunk on his cock. Pictures of you looking up, had him fantasizing of you staring at him with those eyes of yours as you use your mouth, bobbing up and down on his dick.

Unaware too Roy had 'private' photos, all thanks to a few hacking tricks. Roy was occasionally tempted to send you a nude photo of himself, see how you react, and cover it up by saying it was a 'mistake'. Would you perhaps return one or get jealous wondering who it was intended for. Roy gets up, cleaning himself as he’s planning to you meet you later that day. He eyes the slightly crooked tile above his ceiling, storing all the belongings he's taken from his visits to your place. Roy thinks when the two of you are official, he should hide it in a better place.

—-----------

Wally West had plenty of opportunities to hint at his feelings toward you. He liked making flirtatious comments, complaining when he wasn't paired with you during missions, and placing an arm over your shoulders. But you just assume it's Wally's typical self, not noticing his hurt look when you claimed to be "just friends". Then again you never noticed his hurried departure and quick return, where he avoided making eye contact at all costs.

Wally feels the guilt the most. He could have just confessed to you like a normal person. Guilt consumes him when he sees your gullible smile, unaware of the horrible things he did behind your back. It's not his fault really; he was invited to your place and was simply looking around until he found a certain drawer. Wally reassures himself it's not that bad if he only takes one. But it gets to a point where you're complaining to Wally about how your clothes disappear (not telling him which kind).

A point comes where Wally reaches his breaking point. The sneaky pictures, lying on your bed when you weren't around, face in the pillows to inhale your scent could do so little. As he stares at you speaking, Wally makes a move expecting to be rejected, but you kiss him back. He was in heaven, the dreams he had in every waking point coming true. He was where he wanted you to be, on top with you full of his cock, your eyes nearly blacked out as he slams his hips repeatedly into yours. Can you blame him for moving too fast when he has been holding back for so long. 

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates pt. 2

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : the BAU team works the case, you get to help word count : 2.3k warning : canon-typical violence, mention of violence and sexual violence A/N : thank you all so much for all the love on part 1 of this !!! I love getting feedback, it's incredibly motivating ! I will probably do a part 3 :)) Also, my cat is sitting next to me as I write this, which I find quite funny

part 1, part 3, part 4

Back at the police station, Spencer had trouble focusing on the case. His mind kept wandering over to you, wondering what you were doing, how you were doing. He was on edge and the entire team could feel it. Hotch pulled him to the side to ask him if he wanted to give you a phone call. Reid refused, but settled on sending you a text, something he never usually did while working. Something he never usually did because he wasn't the biggest fan of technology and also because he couldn't decipher how you were actually feeling without hearing your voice and all the quirks in the way you spoke which gave away your real feelings.

Sent by Dr. Ironed Socks : < Hey. How are you doing? > Sent by You : < Ok, I'm having a tea on the couch. Geoff is in REM sleep on my lap. Thx for checking <3 >

Your text was followed by a pixelly picture of your slightly overweight (Spencer couldn't use that term to describe Geoffrey around you or you'd get upset) orange cat sprawled out on your lap, legs and arms askew, fast asleep. Spencer felt a small wave of relief spread through him. You were okay for now. Geoffrey was looking after you. Later, he'd help you process and give you all the tools necessary to get over such a traumatic event and move on. It was almost as if that was in his job description.

Returning to the room where the BAU team had settled in, Spencer sent Hotch a grateful nod. Hotch moved his lips in what resembled a small smile, Reid couldn't be sure. "Okay," Garcia's voice resounded from the speaker sitting in the middle of the round table, "I've contacted all of Mary Goldman's professors and it turns out she didn't go to class today. Her first class was at 11:30 but she never showed up." "None of the students we interrogated on campus had seen her after 10:15," Emily spoke up. "Spencer's roommate saw her between 10:30 and 11:00," Rossi intervened. "Okay, we'll get her to come in," Hotch affirmed. Spencer's whole body tensed. You had been the last person to see the victim. His mind was so busy reeling, thinking about everything you'd have to go through as the most promising witness, that he missed Morgan's question.

"Reid?" Derek raised an eyebrow. "Uh, sorry, what did you say?" "What was the time of death according to the coroner?" "14:30," Rossi answered. "It was 14:26, actually," corrected Reid. Rossi rolled his eyes. "Okay, so the unsub has his victim between around, let's say 11:15, and 14:26," Rossi shot a pointed look at Spencer, "that's about three hours and 11 minutes. In those three hours, he had time to take the victim someplace where neither of them would be seen or heard, beat and sexually assault her, and finally dump her in smack-dab in front of the university." "He's definitely organised and wants to send a message," Emily thought aloud. "But what is he trying to say? Look at what I can do? You can't stop me?" "Friends," interrupted Garcia, "I'm going to need at least some information before I even try to get anything out of a search. He's taking and leaving them on campus, so I'm guessing he doesn't necessarily need a vehicle. Does he live in the area?" "Yes, he's local or knows the area, he knows these women and he most likely knows the campus. Search for white males, early twenties with a record of violence and sexual misconduct. Cross-reference that with victims of reported abuse and sexual abuse in the last twenty five years. Run background checks for all university staff. Also have a look at similar victims and MOs in this area in the last five years. This may not be his first time," spoke Hotch. "On it, I'll get back to you when I've found something." "Thanks, Garcia."

You'd taken a shower as soon as you'd arrived home. The water was too hot and you'd scrubbed your skin too hard but getting out, you felt a slight bit better. Heavily disliking the way you still felt, you opted for a cup of Earl Grey tea with milk and sugar. Settling on the couch with a steaming cup in your hands, you tucked your legs beneath you and sighed.

Images of Mary's dead body were printed onto the inside of your eyelids. You still couldn't believe it. Your mind reeled as you tried to think of an explanation for it all. Whichever path you followed, you came up empty. You could not comprehend or imagine any reason of taking the life of an innocent person, especially in such a violent way. Luckily for you, you still didn't know the extent of the violence.

A familiar noise pulled you from your dark thoughts. Geoffrey had just jumped down from his cat tree. You watched him stretch and languidly walk over to you. He meowed once before jumping onto the couch, right next to you. You moved your legs so that you were sitting cross-legged and scratched his head. He purred in delight and pressed himself against you. He sniffed at your tea with an unimpressed look before climbing into your lap before letting himself flop down on his side, stretching out his appendages. You cooed as his pink toe-beans stretched too and laid a hand on his belly, scratching gently. The vibrations of his purrs had a calming effect on you. "Are you trying to make me forgive you for biting my ankle the other day when I wouldn't give you any more treats? You know Spencer says you're a bit overweight, I was just trying to get him to stop body-shaming you, my love..."

A few minutes later, you get a text from Spencer. About thirty minutes after that, you get a phone call from him. "Hey, would you mind coming to the station? It turns out you're the last person to have seen the victim."

"I'll do the cognitive interview." "Reid, I don't think that's a good idea." "Look, yes I'm invested, I know that. But I also know her and-" "Reid, no. This is the reason we such have procedures." "But I-" "Reid." Hotchner's tone translated finality. Spencer's shoulders sank in defeat. He had figured that if he had been the one conducting the interview, maybe it would have been less traumatic for you. He hated the idea of not being there for you, with you, during such a trying moment. He bit his bottom lip.

"I'll do it," volunteered Morgan. Reid felt slight comfort at that, Morgan was one of the few people he would entrust his life to. He could entrust you to him for the interview, even if he didn't like it. Hotchner nodded. "Reid, you work with Garcia, focus on finding other victims with the same MO to help build the profile." Reid nodded and went to find his colleagues.

When you entered the police station, it was almost like he could feel your presence. He came to find you straight away, not wanting to leave alone even for a second. "Hey." "Hey." Reid immediately pulled you in for a meaningful embrace, burying his face in your hair. The smell of your shampoo, conditionner and body wash were bliss to his nostrils. They were a promise that you were here, you were safe, you were okay. Morgan watched from afar, a small smile playing at his lips. He knew Reid, and the hug you exchanged was both too hasty and too tight to be anything casual. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry to have to make you come in, but they're going to do- well I wanted to do it but they wouldn't let me, so it's-"

A slightly older, very muscular and gentle man stepped forward, holding out his hand to you. You shook it. "I'm Agent Derek Morgan. I'm one of Spencer's colleagues. I'll be the one conducting the interview, seeing as there's a conflict of interest with you and Spencer. I hope you can understand that." You introduced yourself and looked at Spencer before answering Derek. "Yes, I understand, it's- it's not a problem." "Great, if you could just follow me, please?" You licked your lips and sent Spencer a look, which he answers with a nod of reassurance and a small smile, before following Derek.

"You can close your eyes if it makes you more comfortable." You were sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair. The light above you was ticking at uneven intervals and the room smelt of worry. You didn't know how you could get any more comfortable, but listening to Morgan's even, alto voice helped a bit. "Okay." You closed your eyes. "You told Agent Rossi that you crossed the victim somewhere around quarter to eleven. Is that correct?" "Uh, yes." "Where did you cross her?" "In the main hall." "Where were you going?" "Um, I had just been to the bathroom and I was heading to my Anglo-American Literary Survey class." "Okay, can you describe to me everything about the moment when you crossed the victim? What you saw, what you felt, smelled, heard? Was anything out of the ordinary?" You opened your eyes.

"Um, I'm sorry, but could you stop referring to Mary as the victim, please? She has a name, which is Mary Goldman, and a victim wasn't the only thing she was." Derek was slightly surprised at your comment but understood where you came from. Separating from the name was a way for profilers to gain some distance from the horrendous violence. Personally knowing the victim, you didn't have such luxury. "Of course, I apologise. What did you feel when you crossed Mary? Was anything out of place?"

You nodded in thanks and tried to bring yourself back to that moment. It seemed unreal, how such a small interaction suddenly held such importance. "O-Okay, uh, my hands are still a bit wet. There weren't any towels in the bathroom. I saw her after she saw me and we exchanged a smile. I thought she looked really pretty today, but I didn't tell her. We really don't know each other that well." "Okay, that's good. Was she wearing anything out of habit for her?" "Uhh, no, she was wearing a pleated skirt and a sweater vest. She often dresses like that, I don't know exactly why I thought she looked pretty. I guess she just looked happy. Nothing was out of the ordinary." "Good. Could you hear or smell anything?" "Yeah, well, there were the voices of other people in the hall. I can hear girls laughing. I smell Mary's perfume when she walks past me. She always wears the same one, it's Chanel, Mademoiselle Coco specifically, she told me once at a party."

"Okay, do you know where she's going?" "I- yeah, she's heading for her Behavioural Neuroscience class." "Is she walking in the right direction?" "Uh... Yes, yes, she is. She's not in too much of a hurry, though, she doesn't like the teacher." "So why is she heading there already, then? The class only starts at 11:30." "She likes to reread the material from the previous week before the class starts." "Why doesn't she like the teacher?" "No one does, all he does is read off his slides and he's a jerk when it comes to grading."

Morgan suppressed a smile at your comment. "Okay, thank you so much, Y/N, this was very helpful." "Was it? I didn't feel like-" "Yes, I promise you've just shared some crucial pieces of information." "O-Okay, if you say so."

All eyes were on Morgan as he entered the briefing room. He put his paper coffee cup down on the table and looked at Hotch. "Nothing was out of the ordinary. Mary was wearing habitual clothes and the same perfume she always wore. She was heading to the same class, as she did weekly, at the same time. My guess is this guy knew her routine and did a blitz attack. Y/N gave me the number of Mary's best friend, and according to her, Mary didn't have any guys in her life except for her dad and brother."

Hotchner nodded. Spencer couldn't help but feeling proud of you for being able to go through with the interview and to provide such useful information, too. He'd have to congratulate you when he got home. "Pretty boy and I found three similar victims in the last three years. They weren't connected to this case because they were in another university, just on the other side of the state line. Last year, three girls, university students, were killed, same MO, all disappeared for about three hours before being found dead in front of the university, they attended," Garcia spoke from the speaker. Spencer nodded in agreement to her words. "What did the police find back then?" asked Emily. "Nothing, they- uh, did all they could during the month that the three murders happened but after the third victim, the unsub stopped," Spencer answered. "Stopped?" Emily repeated, brows drawn together in confusion. "Yeah, he just- stopped killing and disappeared. Our best guess is that something triggered him then and that the same thing triggered him now."

"Oh, another thing," Garcia sounded reluctant to share the information she had, "I looked at all the victims' pictures and... well, I'll just send them to you, that'll be easier."

Spencer's blood ran ice cold as he stared at the four girls on the screen. They all looked exactly like you.

Taglist : (all those of you who wanted a part two <3) @princess-ofthe-pages @usuck @theylovemelody @empressgraytea @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillianacristina

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

MESS IT UP

rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: rafe realises he’s been neglecting his girlfriend to hang out with the guys, so he pulls out all the stops to make it up to her.

based on this ask !! hope it’s what you asked for anon :) it’s a lot less angsty as i focused mainly on him making it up to reader !!

WARNINGS: slight angst w/ a fluff ending, feeling like a second option, crying. (i can’t really think of anything else? lmk if i missed anything !!)

(A/N: read author’s note at the end pls !!)

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

SECOND PERSON +

You stared at your phone, the unanswered text glaring back at you like a reminder of what your relationship with Rafe had become.

Rafe🤍: Can't make it tonight. Hanging with the guys.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, debating whether to respond. It was the fourth time this week Rafe had canceled plans, and each time, it hurt more. The first time, you'd brushed it off. He was busy, you'd reasoned. By the second and third cancellations, doubt started creeping in, but this? This was a slap in the face.

With a deep breath, you set the phone down on your bedside table. Fine. He can do what he wants, you thought bitterly. Your heart ached, though, the sting of rejection settling deep. Rafe hadn't even called to explain, hadn't tried to make it up to you. He'd just...stopped showing up.

For the next few days, you decided not to reach out. No texts. No calls. Nothing. If he cared, he'd notice, right? But as the silence stretched on, your chest felt heavier. Whenever Rafe did text, you gave him dry responses.

Rafe🤍: What are you up to?

You: Nothing.

Rafe🤍: Wanna hang later?

You: Can't.

Each short reply was a subtle punishment, though deep down, you wished he'd push harder, ask what was wrong, do something to show he still cared. But he didn't. And it felt like he was slipping further away.

Rafe stared at his phone, the hollow feeling in his chest growing with every curt reply you sent. He could feel the distance, sense your frustration, and it scared him. He'd messed up, and he knew it.

"Dude, you coming?" Topper called from the other side of the kitchen.

Rafe didn't respond right away, his eyes still fixed on his phone. He'd been spending too much time with Topper and Kelce, blowing you off without a second thought, but he'd been too stubborn to admit he was wrong. Now? Now he wasn't sure if he could fix things.

"Yeah, uh... I'll catch up later," he muttered, shoving his phone into his pocket and grabbing his keys. He had something more important to do.

You were curled up on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when a knock at the door startled you. Frowning, you got up and peered through the window, your breath catching when you saw Rafe standing on the porch, a massive bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands.

You hesitated before opening the door, unsure if you were ready to face him. When you finally did, you crossed your arms and leaned against the doorframe, your expression guarded.

"Hey," Rafe said softly, his usual confidence replaced with nervousness. He held out the flowers. "These are for you."

You didn't move to take them right away. "What are you doing here, Rafe?"

"I—" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I came to apologise. Can I come in?"

You stepped aside reluctantly, letting him in but keeping your arms crossed as he followed you into the living room. He set the flowers on the coffee table, turning to face you with an earnest expression.

"Y/N, I know I've been a total ass lately," he started, his voice shaky. "I've been blowing you off and acting like an idiot, and you didn't deserve any of it."

You looked away, the hurt still fresh. "Why, Rafe? Why have you been ignoring me? Do I...not matter to you anymore?" Your voice cracked on the last words, and Rafe's heart broke at the tears shining in your eyes.

"No," he said quickly, stepping closer. "No, Y/N, you matter to me. You matter so much. That's why I'm here."

You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. "It doesn't feel like it, Rafe. You've been choosing them over me, cancelling plans like I'm just an afterthought."

"I know," he said, his voice thick with regret. "And I hate myself for it. I didn't realise how much I was hurting you until you stopped talking to me. I've been selfish, and I've taken you for granted, but I swear, I never meant to make you feel like you weren't important."

You stayed silent, his words sinking in but the pain still lingering.

Rafe took your hands gently, his blue eyes pleading. "I love you, Y/N. I don't want to lose you. Please, let me make it up to you. Let me take you out, somewhere special, just the two of us. I'll do whatever it takes to fix this."

Your heart softened at his vulnerability. Rafe wasn't one to admit when he was wrong, and seeing him like this, so raw and sincere, reminded you why you fell for him in the first place.

"Rafe," you whispered, your voice trembling. "You really hurt me."

"I know," he said, squeezing your hands. "And I'll spend every day proving how sorry I am. Just...give me the chance to make this right."

You searched his face, looking for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was love and regret. Finally, you nodded. "Okay."

Rafe let out a relieved breath as you nodded, agreeing to let him take you on the special date he'd planned. The tension in the room lifted slightly, but your lingering hurt still weighed on him. He stepped closer, brushing his thumb gently against your cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You don't know how much this means to me. I swear, I won't mess this up."

You gave him a small, tentative smile. "I guess we'll see."

Rafe nodded firmly. "You will. Now, you've got an hour to get ready. Go upstairs and make yourself even more stunning than you already are."

"An hour?" you asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Where are we going?"

A mischievous grin spread across his face. "Not telling. It's a surprise."

You crossed your arms, pretending to glare at him. "You know I hate surprises."

"And I love them. Go on." He ushered you toward the stairs, his hands lightly pressing against your shoulders. "Clock's ticking. Trust me, you're gonna want to dress up for this."

You turned back, narrowing your eyes. "Not even one hint?"

"Not a single one," Rafe teased, shaking his head. "Now, go. I'll be downstairs waiting."

Upstairs, you stared at your closet, debating what to wear. Rafe's vagueness had left you completely in the dark, but his insistence that you "dress up" hinted at something fancy. You finally settled on a sleek, form-fitting dress in your favorite color, pairing it with heels and your favourite jewellery that Rafe had gifted you over the years.

As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, your nerves began to settle. This was Rafe's chance to show he cared, and while part of you was still cautious, you couldn't deny the small flicker of hope blooming in your chest.

You glanced at the clock. With just a few minutes to spare, you grabbed your bag and headed downstairs, your heels clicking softly against the wood.

Rafe was pacing in the living room, checking his phone when he heard you coming. He looked up, and the moment he saw you, his breath hitched.

"Holy...wow," he murmured, his jaw nearly dropping.

You stopped at the bottom of the stairs, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze. "Is it too much?" you asked, smoothing your dress nervously.

"No," Rafe said quickly, walking over to you. "It's perfect. You're perfect."

He reached out, taking your hand in his and spinning you gently so he could admire you from every angle. "God, Y/N, how did I get so lucky?"

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, his words and the sincerity in his eyes making your heart flutter. "Stop," you said softly, though a smile tugged at your lips.

"I mean it," Rafe said, his voice quieter now. "I've been such an idiot lately, and seeing you like this just makes me realise even more how much I don't deserve you."

"Rafe—"

He squeezed your hand, shaking his head. "No, let me say it. I've been taking you for granted, and I'm not gonna do that anymore.”

“I promise," Rafe continued, his voice low and steady, "I'm going to show you every single day how much you mean to me. Starting with tonight."

Your heart softened, the sincerity in his words chipping away at the lingering hurt you'd been carrying. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Then don't just say it, Rafe. Show me."

"I will," he said firmly. A small, genuine smile spread across his face as he kissed your knuckles. "Now, let's get going. We're on a schedule, and I'm not about to mess this up."

Rafe kept the destination a mystery, despite your repeated attempts to get it out of him.

"Okay, just tell me what kind of shoes I should have worn," you teased, glancing over at him as he drove.

"You'll be fine in those," he said, smirking. "No running or hiking involved, if that's what you're worried about."

"Not worried, just curious," you said, narrowing your eyes.

"Patience, Y/N," he replied with a playful grin. "Good things come to those who wait."

Though his teasing should have annoyed you, it only made you smile. The Rafe sitting next to you now felt like the one you'd fallen for, not the distant version of him you'd been dealing with lately.

When the car finally pulled to a stop, you gasped. Rafe had brought you to a private dock overlooking the water. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the serene waves. A small, elegant boat was waiting at the end of the dock, fairy lights strung along its edges, twinkling softly in the dimming light.

"Rafe," you whispered, turning to him with wide eyes. "What...is this?"

He stepped out of the car, hurrying around to open your door. "It's us," he said simply, holding out his hand to help you out.

As you walked toward the dock, you noticed a table set up on the boat, complete with candles and a beautifully plated meal. A soft melody played in the background, and the intimacy of it all took your breath away.

"You did all this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe scratched the back of his neck, a little shy. "Yeah. I, uh, wanted to do something special. Something that shows you how much I appreciate you."

You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Rafe, this is...it's perfect."

Once you were seated on the boat, the gentle rocking of the water beneath you, the tension that had lingered between you and Rafe began to dissolve completely. He poured you a glass of wine and served you dinner, constantly checking to make sure you were comfortable and happy.

As you ate, the conversation flowed easily, the laughter and warmth you'd missed returning effortlessly.

"You've outdone yourself," you said, leaning back in your chair as you looked at him.

Rafe grinned. "I had to. You're worth it."

His words struck a chord in you, and the tears you'd been holding back finally slipped free. You quickly wiped them away, but Rafe noticed.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching across the table to take your hand. "Why are you crying?"

"Because," you said, your voice shaky, "I didn't think you cared anymore. And now...this? It's overwhelming, in a good way."

Rafe's expression fell, guilt flashing across his face. "Y/N, I've cared this whole time. I was just too stupid to show it. I got caught up in my own crap and forgot how important you are to me. I swear to you, I'll never let you feel like that again."

You squeezed his hand, your tears slowing as his words soothed the ache in your chest. "You're really making it up to me, Rafe."

"That's the plan," he said with a small smile. "And I'm just getting started."

After dinner, Rafe took you to the front of the boat, where he wrapped his arms around you as you watched the stars. The cool breeze off the water brushed against your skin, but his warmth kept you comfortable.

"I don't think I've ever felt this lucky," he murmured into your hair, holding you close.

You turned in his arms, resting your hands on his chest as you looked up at him. "Just keep this up, Rafe. That's all I need."

"I will," he promised, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. "I love you, Y/N. More than anything."

"I love you too," you whispered, your heart swelling with hope and happiness.

As the boat drifted gently across the water, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifted. Rafe had made his mistakes, but tonight, he'd shown you just how much he was willing to do to make things right. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything would be okay.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

i really hope this is exactly what you wanted anon !! sorry it took so long i took a writing break over the holidays and new year period as i was working 24/7 </3 trying to catch up with requests, so pls be patient !!

i wrote this one alongside last nights request hence why i’m getting them out quickly, so it might be a couple days until the next one <3