#sorry to mobile users i did put a -read more-

[mistmarigold]

What if Sunjae didn’t die that night? Part 5 (lovely runner au)

[Read Part 1, 2, 3 and 4 here.]

Sometimes Sunjae wished that he could just log off from life. He barely used his phone or social media so it wasn’t as if his digital footprint was driving him into madness. Yet, he was just constantly tired - from everything.

Except maybe one: his tiny notebook with the sunflower cover which had become his go-to for any and all thoughts that came to mind.

Alas, the world didn’t stop rotating just because Ryu Sunjae was feeling it. It also didn’t let him forget his commitments and that’s how he found himself sitting at a production office for a meeting that was long overdue. Maybe they decided to hurry up after the whole retirement thing came out, he almost smiled at that.

“We’ll be waiting to hear back from you soon! If there’s anything else you might need from us, please let us know,” the Assistant Producer was saying while seeing him off.

“We’ll get in touch!” His manager responded.

“Thank you,” Sunjae said lowly, doing a tiny respectful bow before walking down the stairs.

As always, with his mind preoccupied, Sunjae didn’t notice much around him - a side effect of years of coddling by guards in public. However, it was yellow and the funny thing about that colour is that it always forces him to hold and register, even if it’s for a moment.

This time around, he didn’t just register but rather walked to the source of yellow absentmindedly, already knowing who it was before she even needed to turn.

The employee talking to Sol looked up at him and greeted hurriedly, making Sol turn around.

“Oh hi, Sunjae! What’re you doing here?”

She had come a long way from staring happily at him and staying silent, now she was talking to him as if they knew each other their entire lives (they did but only Sunjae knew that).

“Are you here for a new film?” She beamed at him.

The employee shook his head behind her as a signal to Sunjae but he nodded at her, a small smile on his face.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, looking between the employee and Sol.

She turned a bit so she didn’t have her back to anyone, “oh, I came here for an interview. But their office is upstairs and they don’t have accessibility so I won’t be able to work here. I was just about to leave.”

Sol bows before attempting to leave.

Sunjae looks at the employee, then stairs and feels such bubbling rage within him, it surprises himself. At least the employee had the decency to feel apologetic regardless.

“I’m really sorry about this, we loved your work and were looking forward to meet you,” he says.

Sol shakes her head, “oh, it’s okay! Thank you for considering me, I understand.”

But Sunjae didn’t understand. He was about to intervene before his manager put a hand on his shoulder, addressing Sol, “can we drop you off?”

Sol chuckles, “oh no, it’s alright! Please go on with your work,” she makes her way out of their little group, “bye, Sunjae! Good luck for your movie.”

Sometimes Sunjae wished she would act more like his fan - the clingy kind who wants to spend a lot of time with him.

He goes to her, stepping in front of her so she can’t continue her way out, “let us drop you. Are you going back home?”

She nods and shakes her head at the same time.

“You aren’t going home?”

“No, I mean I’m going home but you don’t need to drop me. I’ll be fine, you should continue with your work, I don’t want to be a bother.”

“I insist, please.”

Sol was about to protest again but visibly gave up and nodded.

“I’ll get the car!” Sunjae’s manager says before going out.

While they waited, Sunjae wanted to talk and diffuse the awkward tension they suddenly had out of nowhere. But at the same time, a part of him was worried about the mechanics of Sol managing her way in the car. A long time back, he had looked it up: how wheelchair users get in the car and what it means for their mobility especially with public transport. He didn’t remember much anymore apart from the fact that there wasn’t a collective way they managed because everyone had different kinds of mobility. He wasn’t sure about Sol’s - how it had shifted over the years. He saw her get in her friend’s car that very first night, it was quick and fairly easy with optimal height. Her friend had helped her in but Sol managed her way fine.

Just then his manager called, “just saw a few photographers around the building. Come to the back entrance, I’ll pick you up there.”

Sunjae looked at Sol who was looking at him inquisitively before looking at the employee standing a bit further away, “can you show us the back entrance?”

The employee nodded and lead them there, Sol and Sunjae following behind side by side.

However, their office had some serious issues in regard to accessibility because there were couple of stairs leading towards the door.

Sunjae looked at the stairs and then back at Sol, who was also looking at the stairs. Before he could say anything, she turned to him and smiled, “Sunjae, you should go. I’m assuming there is paparazzi outside? I think you should go on your own and I’ll be fine.”

Sunjae felt conflicted. But for the moment, he silenced all of his thoughts and bent down in front of Sol.

“Please, I insist. If your mother finds out, she’ll be upset with me that I let you go like this,” he says gently.

Sol was about to say something but Sunjae continues before he loses courage.

“Can I…. please carry you down the stairs?”

A part of him wanted to go hide away in his room, in the dark, but he was choosing that as his moment of 10 seconds of courage, hoping that it wasn’t cringe, praying that she wouldn’t take offence.

Sol’s eyes widened a fraction, “I-“

Sunjae’s phone buzzes for a second, followed by his manager-driver bursting in from the door, “Come on, Sunjae, they’ll see us soon. I don’t know what’s up today.”

Sol looked between the two, Sunjae not hurrying her but keeps looking at her before she does a tiny nod - that’s all the confirmation he needs before he stands up and scoops Sol up in his arms. A hand behind her knees while the other encircles her waist, Sol looking anywhere but at him while he keeps looking at her to ensure she isn’t uncomfortable. They go down the stairs comfortably, as if Sunjae wasn’t holding an entire human, while Sol held on to his neck for dear life, shyly hiding her face in the curve of his neck, a tiny breath away from his skin.

Sunjae’s manager quickly ran up the stairs and picked up Sol’s wheelchair before running down and out the door, not realising that he only had to do it until the bottom of the stairs.

“Dongseok!” But he was gone already, opening the car trunk. He finally notices Sunjae standing at the open door, while holding an awkward Sol but instead of realising his mistake, he gestures for him to hurry up.

“Sorry about this,” Sunjae mutters lowly before hurrying out to the open car door. He bends a bit before leaning in and settling Sol down on the seat, their eyes meeting for a moment as he pulls away.

“Thank you,” Sol says softly, a small nod and smile on her face before she straps herself in.

Sunjae goes to the other side and gets in.

“I’m sorry about earlier. For hurrying you and for Dongseok putting your wheelchair in the car,” Sunjae says at last, diffusing the awkward silence.

“Oh no, it’s fine. Thank you for doing what you did earlier and for dropping me home. You didn’t have to go to such trouble,” Sol twiddles her fingers in her lap.

Sunjae nods but he could feel the tension in his bones and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want her to feel like he was invalidating her or overpowering her or taking advantage of her disability. He never wanted anyone to feel that, let alone Sol. Especially because he was in a position of power in so many ways. But considering the possibility that Sol might feel that way about him, he felt sheer agony.

He tries to pull down the collar of his sweater a bit, to give himself the physical space to breathe.

“Are those my flowers?” Sol leans forward to pick up the small notebook from the seat.

Sunjae looks over and nods, watching Sol gently caress the cover.

“This looks prettier in person. Thank you, Sunjae-ya for not letting my flowers die,” she beams up at him, her eyes watering.

“I couldn’t let them die,” he replies, “thank you for giving them to me.”

Sol’s smile brightens up even more - he didn’t know that was possible.

As they were about to round up to the buildings near Sol’s place, he asks, “what role were they considering you for?”

“Huh? Oh, it was for a Video Editor role. I’ve been doing that for a while now on my own so I wanted to see if I could find something in Films,” she says, a dismissive tone in her voice.

“Is that something you’re interested in?” Sunjae inquires further, staring at her while she keeps caressing the tiny notebook in her lap.

She doesn’t answer for a minute, making Sunjae think if she heard him at all. But then she looks at him, a sad smile on her face.

“I’ve always wanted to work in TV/Films, as a Director than any other role. But even with Editing, it does involve creative processes and vision so it was the next best bet because I could easily do it from home without worrying about accessibility issues like today for instance.”

Sunjae nods just as the car stops and the doors open. Dongseok opens the trunk to get Sol’s wheelchair and setting it up based on her directions.

Sunjae gets out and goes to her side of the door, intently focusing on Sol. Again, he wasn’t sure how she manoeuvres around cars and especially one with the height - it was higher than her friend’s. But she was confident and relaxed, not worried or awkward about her mode of mobility.

Once Dongseok was done and had stepped away, Sunjae asks, “how can I help?”

This time around, Sol was a bit more comfortable, “could you please ….carry me down?”

Without hesitation, Sunjae moves forward, puts one hand behind her waist and the other under her knees, and easily lifts her down onto her wheelchair, lingering for a moment before pulling away, their eyes refusing to pull away from each other.

Once she was all settled in and comfortable, she gives him a wide smile, “thank you so much for dropping me home! Take care of yourself and good luck for your movie.”

She bows and waves to both Sunjae and Dongseok, before turning around to leave.

“Sol!”

Sunjae stopped mid-step. Saying her name out loud felt both like a blasphemy and relief. As if it was forbidden, yet it felt like coming home at last. He didn’t even know where home was, really, but it felt right. Instinctual. Bound to happen.

When Sol turned around to look at him, confused, he wasn’t sure what he was about to say either. Lost in his own contradictory feelings when it came to her, while she was blissfully unaware about everything.

He walks up to her and says, “thank you for letting me drop you home. I wanted to apologise if I made you feel uncomfortable at any point and to thank you for trusting me.”

He didn’t wait for her reply but did a tiny bow before going back to his car, turning around once to smile at her before getting inside and leaving.

[Part 6 here.]

[autism-autobot]

LMK Angst Fic Part 5

Author's note: I think there need to be more platonic and friendship cuddling in media and in the world, so here we are. (Definitely not touch starved nope not me!)

Part 4:

It was around three in the morning in the celestial realm. Nezha had become accustomed to sleeping beside Sun Wukong every night and had even begun to enjoy it despite the reason why they started doing it. He had always thought of Wukong as a good friend and companion, which he didn't have very many of thanks to his workaholic attitude. Him and Wukong had even become quite comfortable with each other.

Nezha was aroace and Wukong still considered himself spoken for since his previous marriage had ended in death and not divorce. So it was as platonic as could be. However, they were both touch-starved and emotionally neglected as children, so there's that.

Wukong and Nezha had grown used to falling asleep snuggled up next to each other, with limbs tangled in weird form around each other. But neither of them were exactly still while they slept, so Nezha wasn't immediately concerned when he couldn't feel Wukong next to him when he flopped his arm around beside him to try and find the monkey he'd grown so close to.

Until he heard the whimpering.

That can't be good.

Nezha bolted upright in the bed. He searched the dark room for his friend's ginger-colored fur. He found it at the edge of the bed.

After clambering over to Wukong's side he gently and quietly asked:

Nezha: Wukong, are you awake? What's the matter?

SWK: *sobbing* I-it's my head! It's hurting! It hurts so bad! Please-

Nezha: Shhhhh, Wukong. It's alright. I'm here, it's okay. You'll be okay.

Nezha had become accustomed to Wukong's post-circlet migraines and various other symptoms of Wukong's traumas. It seemed as though even after Wukong had learned to cope with the physical damage done to him, his body had not, and was therefore having it's own posttraumatic episodes.

Nezha had found ways to sooth him luckily.

Nezha laid Wukong in his original position on his side of their shared bed and put an ice pack on his forehead. He then lit some incense and lightly wafted the fumes in Wukong's direction so he could smell it. That was more to soothe the monkey's panic than anything.

After laying back down beside Wukong, Nezha wrapped an arm around his chest.

Nezha: Are you comfortable enough?

SWK: I think so.....*gasps*

Nezha: Wukong what-

SWK: Hot flash. Don't worry, it's already over. Gosh, that felt bad.

Nezha: It will be alright my friend. I am here.

SWK: Thank you. For everything.

Nezha: No problem, I quite enjoy your company. I just wish you weren't in pain as often as you are.

SWK: You and me both.

~~~

They slept for a few more hours before getting up. Sun Wukong tended to be very weak during and after a migraine, as was the design of the circlet he once wore. Nezha helped him to the downstairs living room and set him up on the couch.

SWK: Ow.

Nezha: Sorry.

SWK: Nah, it's fine. I should be the one saying sorry to you.

Nezha: Whatever do you mean by that?

SWK: You're always having to help me out with stuff and getting me out of trouble.

Nezha: That is only half true. Besides, I do not mind taking care of you.

SWK: But don't you think of me as weak for needing help like this?

Nezha: No, not really. If I did, however, I'd be the world's biggest hypocrite.

SWK: What? How so?

Nezha went into the adjacent closet and pulled out a wheelchair, it was the active kind too, unlike the bulky ones you'd find in the hospital.

Nezha: I haven't told you this before, I probably should've by now but, I guess I share similar insecurities.

Nezha: I am disabled. I'm an ambulatory wheelchair user, meaning I can walk about easily at times, while others I cannot.

Nezha: That is also why I have my fire wheels, sash, and staff. They are mobility devices. Albeit they are a bit atypical.

SWK: Cool!

Nezha: Really? You think they're cool?

SWK: Well, yeah! I think that type of stuff is pretty interesting. I get why you wouldn't exactly want to show it off though.

Nezha: Thank you. Perhaps if you are ever needing some help after a migraine or other health complication, you can use one of my many wheelchairs! I hardly use most of them anymore, it's nice to have backups. Just in case.

SWK: Thanks for the offer. Maybe I'll give one a spin after I feel a little bit better. I still feel like my head will explode if I sit up.

Nezha: Alright then. I'll park this one next to you so you can have an easy transition when you are ready.

SWK: Thanks again.

Nezha: You are quite welcome.

Part 6:

[knchins]

hiii 🤍 if possible, could i request a part 2 of the trust issues s/o, but this time with mitsuya and maybe baji??

also, i hope ur day/evening is going rlly well ☺️

Hi hi!! Of course! My day has been very good! I hope your day/night is also going well ^-^ Sorry this took some time, I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Mitsuya x Reader, Baji x Reader

TW: hurt/comfort, minor neglect, minor depictions of PTSD/trauma, mild angst (with happy endings)

Reader Type: Gender Neutral (Baji refers to reader as Angel) Word Count: ~300 each

A/N: I won't be doing colored text anymore as I see that it messes up default color text for dark mode users on mobile! Apologies for that <3 You can read part one here.

Mitsuya

Mitsuya had been working longer hours than usual lately. He had a fashion show at the end of the week and while he promised to make time for you, he had failed to keep it for several days in a row. Now he was arriving home to your shared apartment, a carefully made dinner long gone cold still sat on the dining table. A frown formed on his lips as he searched to find you curled up on your bed in the fetal position, crying softly. 

“Hey, hey, come on now.” He said softly as he laid down beside you, wrapping you in his arms. You flinched at the soft touch, and he instantly felt a huge wave of guilt wash over him. “I’m sorry,” He said as he tried to pepper you with kisses, but each time you shied away from him. 

“This is the fourth night in a row, Taka.” You mumbled, obviously still very upset with him. A few kisses weren’t going to dig him out of the hole he had put himself in by overworking. He had always struggled with time management, especially when a deadline was so close. 

“I know,” though he sounded regretful, you were skeptical of how bad he truly felt. Mitsuya wanted nothing more than to bring that pretty smile back to your face. “Why didn’t you call me? I told you before you should. I get so wrapped up that I forget to check the time.” 

“I just figured if you cared, you would want to come home and spend time with me.” You replied, and he knew that your fractured trust was partially his fault. He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a long time as you lay in silence for what felt like hours. 

“I’ve been working on a surprise for you.” He admitted sheepishly, “I wasn’t going to tell you but the grande finale to my show is a garment I made especially for you. I’ve just been so obsessed with making it perfect that I guess I lost sight of what’s more important, which is our relationship. 

A small smile lit up your face, “Really? For me?” 

“Yes, of course.” He said, giving your body a gentle squeeze as he hugged you. “Just for you.”

Baji

Baji had always been a bit of a wild card. He was known to fly off the handle at small inconveniences, and something even had simple as hunger could make him do violent things. However, one thing Baji had never done was show this kind of violence towards you.

It wasn’t until one particularly bad night, he had gotten into a fight and was still high on adrenaline when he came home. He began slamming doors to cabinets, kicking furniture, and generally being aggressive towards inanimate objects. 

He was too caught up in his anger to notice the way you were cowering away from him. How every loud sound that he made would make you swallow hard and pull the blanket wrapped around your shoulders even tighter. It wasn’t until he realized that you were missing from his side did he notice how petrified you looked. 

“Hey, hey, Angel I’m sorry.” He murmured, knowing he’d gotten caught up in his own head again. He didn’t mean to frighten you, and while he’d never lay a hand on you he knew that your trauma response couldn’t be helped. He put on a smile to try and show that he wasn’t upset and you let out a relieved sigh. 

“I hate when you get like that, Kei…” You said in a quiet voice.

“I know,” He replied, pulling you into a tight hug. “I got carried away again. There’s some ice cream in the freezer, why don’t I make us both a bowl and you put on a movie you like, would that make you feel better?” 

You nodded, relieved that he could be so sweet and understanding despite such a rough exterior. Baji pulled away from you and grinned. “Go pick out what you want to watch, then.” He watched as you shuffled into the living room and he made a mental note that next time he should just stay out until he’s calmed down. 

Request Rules

[ohii-san]

yes tell us about eihiyo!!!!!

folds hands okay so . to me it's very fundamental that you keep in mind eichi and hiyori were childhood friends and they've known each other likely longer than keito has known eichi and i DON'T KNOW WHY THEY KEEP FUCKING DISREGARDING IT I HATE AKIRA anyway . i'll put it under the cut i know i am very rambly

edit; i hit the image limit i am not normal

so starting with checkmate which is translated by dreamwidth user shivalries but i have a screenshot of the wiki here no i don't how the fuck am i supposed to find it it's so far back in my gallery oh my god OH I GOT IT

it's like never stated when eihiyo meets but it's Obviously fairly young because of the way they refer to each other . i have insane bias so i put them as like toddler friends but realistically they may have met shortly before nagisa came into the tomoe family, since it's stated that the foundation is falling as of ! era meaning they were far more likely to have met years prior in its peak .

SO . let's look at what eichi says here . he says he's similar to hiyori by admitting it would be like looking at himself, and this is a sentiment they both repeat in other stories; i haven't read altered but i am so sure it probably echoes this . he also knows hiyori well enough to understand that they're not particularly amicable, nor is hiyori someone who's easy to deal with when he doesn't fancy it . additionally, in pretty mission, we get these interactions;

it's very likely the two of them attended social gatherings for high society families, which would also perhaps be where hiyori could vaguely know the himemiya family from aside from word of mouth ( it's established in a hiyori side story from ! that he has met tori before, but i believe tori says it was during his time with exfine ? )

we also get to see, in altered, that eichi is more than capable of courtesy and awareness of hiyori's false behaviors . he also says here that they've known each other a long time 🧐 fascinating . okay then . so they mutually understand one another and can't lie to each other ? sounds like something people in a FORMER RELATIONSHIP WOULD SAY !!!!!!! congrats to eichi for being the most divorced nineteen year old in the world

moving on . sorry for the poor image quality i combined two screenshots so i could add the altered one since i NEED people to see it

moving onto summer live which ummm was done by kotofucius ( a long inactive tl :( hope they're okay ) right here, but i have screenshots from the wiki saved so it's what you get lol ❤️ anyway hiyori states it's been a long time since he's seen eichi, and we know this is after the war so we can assume hiyori and eichi more or less fell out after hiyori transferred to reimei . tsumugi states ( in a story i can't recall ? may be ss ) that he keeps in contact with hiyori and nagisa, and that ibara ( <- i believe he says "that kid" or something though, referring to nagisa's roommate and partner, who is ibara ) has helped nagisa grow as a person etc etc so Why did hiyori ghost eichi 🧐 but it's easy enough to understand .

i accidentally grabbed so many screenshots but wonder game gives us a decent glimpse into their dynamic too .

i put them all side by side on mobile to save space a little but the gist of this is that eichi is . very .. aware ? of hiyori's personality and mannerisms, and feels comfortable calling them out . hiyori is someone who canonically wears a facade so imo it's very interesting that eichi calls his bluffs, points out his flaws, etc without much thought at all . they're obviously close and well acquainted no matter how much they appear to hate one another .

we see it later in summer live too, he advises hokuto almost nonstop for the trickstar/eve meeting because he understands hiyori and grasps quite well that he's difficult when he wants to be, which is exactly how he ends up acting with hokuto; really the only reason they get through that meeting is eichi's guidance and hokuto getting pissed off enough to get hiyori to respect him . a tiny bit .

also, in wonder game again, we get to see the fact that hiyori is eventually dedicated to eichi's cause despite hating him . in my opinion this is hiyori deflecting; i believe they're actually much closer than either of them admit in ! era stories ( which is Basically all i've referenced so far ), and their !! banter is definitely meant to be read as far more playful

hiyori acknowledges eichi's dedication and seems to admire it, and also shut up look at what hiyori says in summer live you will not believe this shit

?!?!?!?!?! BUT YOU PERFORM WITH EICHI AND WORK ALONGSIDE HIM . YOU DON'T HATE HIM YOU BIG BITCH BABY JESUS CHRIST !!!! ohhh my god they're so insufferable okay . i'm running out of intelligent thought but i hope you now understand that eichi and hiyori do definitely respect one another, they work well together, i believe hiyori had a crush on eichi as a child and they ( like reichi ) have insane divorced energy . their fights in !! are much more tame compared to them outright saying "i hate you" HAHAH . going back to that second pretty mission screenshot ( as i said at the top, i hit the image limit ), you can definitely read it in a way more amicable teasing kind of way . i would also like to give a shoutout to this white brim moment where hiyori smacks eichi for pretending to die and traumatizing tori . real exes behavior idk personally i wouldn't assault people i wasn't close with HAHAH i also want to mention *this* white brim moment where eichi says that hiyori has been a maid, presumably worn a maid dress also ( for him ?!?!? ) before . it's probably a reference to them playing as children but i am losing my goddamn mind at the idea of like 15/16 year olds eihiyo fucking around and making a bet which ends with hiyori serving eichi .

okay i need to shut up this has been so much please read white brim ( i haven't even read it in full ) and wonder game THANK YOU FOR LISTENING PLEASE SEE MY VISION I SPENT AN HOUR TYPING ALL OF THIS AND GATHERING SCREENSHOTS

[powdermelonkeg]

Hello,

I'm sorry for the question but I'd like to know for your 50/50 poll if that is actually something Tumblr users have achieved or if you can modify polls to always show 50/50

Cause damn i voted randomly and I couldn't see the options at all, can you revote on a poll?

Gonna answer these in reverse order:

Nope, you can't revote on a poll. Once it's cast, it's cast, no takebacks.

I can't modify the polls whatsoever after they're posted. Like, at all. Can't even add tags to them, change the title, etc; that's put in place on purpose so that people can't change what the poll's supposed to be voting for mid-vote. (It's actually a little frustrating because I can only use polls if they're submitted to me, and if I accidentally set them for 24 hours instead of a week, I have to delete the poll and use up a new one) On the 50/50—that happened completely by chance! I've had two polls that very much toe the 50/50 line, this blank one and this snail one.

In the case of the snails, people were motivated to balance them. The title gave a clear goal: "They’re trying to tie so they can share the 1st place medal." Towards the beginning, it was unbalanced pretty wildly, then as more and more people blindly voted for whichever they thought was in the losing spot, it evened out to 50/50, and each "wrong" vote that skewed it wouldn't be enough to shift it a full percentage.

Think of it this way. If I hold out my hands, and one hand has two grains of rice, and the other has five, it's pretty easy to see that the hand that has 5 grains has more rice. If you have, instead, two BAGS of rice, whether or not one or the other has 3 extra grains doesn't really matter anymore, because the weight and space they take up gets lost among the rest.

The snail vote actually skews ever-so-slightly towards the bottom snail. You can see this on mobile, because mobile shows fractions of a percent in the actual bar measure—the bottom snail is a few pixels ahead. But it's just that: fractions of a percent. Tumblr likes whole numbers, so it rounded 50.003% (not the actual number, just a guess) down to 50%, and 49.997% up to 50%, making them appear even.

The reason I bring up the motivation part is because, whenever the snail poll DID skew a full percent, everyone started to tag it to let people ahead know about it. "Bottom snail is at 51%! Everyone vote top snail!" And I assume their followers listened to that advice. If you read through the notes of that post, you can see that in action.

The blank post is doing this COMPLETELY organically. Since neither option actually contains anything, there's a negligible amount of bias towards one particular answer. YOU might think of pressing the bottom answer first because you felt like it, but the NEXT person might just click the first answer they see, and so on. There's no reason why one blank option should be favored over the other, so it isn't.

As of typing this, the blank poll is at nearly 18k votes; I'm sure it sways one way or another by fractions of a percent, just like the snail poll. But because the bias towards either answer is basically nonexistent, the vast majority of people split into 50/50 again.

It's literally a coin flip. A coin has two faces with equal chances of landing, no matter which one you feel obligated to call.

[askaceattorney]

Dear Aki-Chan,

Chief Mod Edgeworth: I love answering letters from The Great Ace Attorney characters because their characters are enjoyable to do. 

As for which characters get asked the most questions, I’d say it’s often the main Ace Attorney Protagonists like Phoenix, Apollo,  Athena and Edgeworth. 

(Referenced Letter)

Dear Guquis,

Chief Mod Edgeworth: 

Fixed it! Though, I am seeing that the links are showing much weirdly on the web browser. place your cursor over the image and click this.

EDIT: This issue seems to have since been fixed.

Mod Justice: I also added the link so that mobile users can click on it too. Hope that helps!

Dear Anonymous,

Chief Mod Edgeworth: No, I didn’t. Sorry.

Co-Mod: Me neither. My reading repertoire is about the same as that of the main character in Doki Doki Literature Club (i.e. very small), and that includes visual novels. I might be tempted to check this one out somewhere down the road, though.

Dear Anonymous,

Chief Mod Edgeworth: I think most people believe it shouldn’t, but the problem is that life is much more complicated than that. If we totally believed to not risk any life for the sake of freedom, then we’d believe the Revolutionary War was immoral and wrong.

What I believe is that none of us should ever wish or have any intention on taking the lives of anyone. With all of that said, if we were ever in a position where we have to defend ourselves from being hurt, cruelly held hostage or any of the sort, then killing the person taking away that kind of freedom should be treated as self-defense. If a massive country were to try to conquer a country, even if no lives were to be lost if the other country surrendered, that country��s people have the right to defend themselves, even at the cost of risking or taking lives. Not because I believe killing is justified, but because we don’t always have a choice. When it’s your life and freedom on the line and the person taking that away from you doesn’t care or won’t listen, there aren’t always better options.

Obviously, if there are better alternatives, take them. Unfortunately, in life, it’s not always as simple as that.

Co-Mod: I...have nothing to add.

(Referenced Letter)

Dear Dawsongfg,

Chief Mod Edgeworth:

That was me who answered that one.

Mod Justice:

And why the Bloody Hell would you believe me to write responses while portraying that... DERANGED hospital patient?!

(Seriously, I refused to write any letters addressed to that sonova[CENSORED] for a reason, Goddammit.)

Chief Mod Edgeworth: Speaking of the devil, because we are getting asks like this: 

Chief Mod Edgeworth: No. For one, it’s not just one anonymous person sending letters to Dr. Hotti. It’s three different people. Two common anonymous users that often send letters on here and one with an official account. Second, while they are toing the line of the goal post I already set up, they’re not crossing it. I’d argue that Dawnsongfg went much farther than this. 

This is what I was talking about before when saying that if I was to not allow Dawsongfg to write letters or delete any letters they did, then that goal post is going to move closer and closer to letters that aren’t even that harmful. Now, that Dawsongfg has apologized and tamed up, now you guys are complaining about the second annoying letters on AAA. If I start not allowing these three people to write letters to Dr. Hotti, then the next person you guys will have a problem with will be someone that’s actually going through some irl issues. 

In fact, there is someone toing the line that has an official account and writing strange letters because they're going through some issues. The way I see it, if I don't put my foot down and allow Dr. Hotti letters to go through, you guys are going to complain about this person next. If you must, block out "Director Hotti" from your tags on tumblr. I'd rather these three people be toing the line with Dr. Hotti creepy letters than someone that's actually going through some serious shit. Believe me, Dr. Hotti letters are super easy to answer. 

Dear Dawsongfg,

Chief Mod Edgeworth: I’ve played the RP Ace Attorney Online version.

Co-Mod: I’ve taken a look at it a few times before, but never really got into it. I will say that I love it when fans find creative ways to make content resembling a popular game (provided they use it wisely).

And I agree. Stupid letters gotta go.

(Referenced Letter)

Dear Gumshoe “Letty” Fan,

Chief Mod Edgeworth: You are very welcome. Sorry if the first part of your letter is a little blurred.

Co-Mod: Great to hear from you!  I recommend TGAA, personally. You’re very welcome, and thank you for your contribution to this blog and fandom (specifically your enthusiasm). Best of luck in your life, especially when you reach adulthood.  It’s a wild ride, let me tell ya. 😉

(Referenced Letter)

(Video in Letter)

Dear Miraz van Nohrr,

Chief Mod Edgeworth: Lolz if only we had the money to make this blog blaze.

Co-Mod: I love it. 😄 I just recently had a moment like that myself, actually:

Dear The-Eevee-Breeder,

Chief Mod Edgeworth: 

Glad to hear from you. Not to say we never do.

Co-Mod:

It’s nice to see you back on Tumblr. Best of luck breeding Eevees!

Dear Gumshoe-letty-fan,

Chief Mod Edgeworth: Hm... to be honest, I don’t think there was anything in Ace Attorney that made me cry. Not to say I never get emotional over the stories, but the things that make me cry are... strange. Like I cried in Bridge to Terabithia when Jess punched the bully making fun of him after Leslie’s death.

I did get emotional when Apollo asked for Athena’s trial to continue, because I knew he was dealing with some self doubt. I get emotional over things like that when I foresee things that isn’t told to me such as when Barok became livid the moment he realized that Albert’s invention was fabricated, since that would mean someone was setting up his best friend.

Co-Mod: For me, it was the moment in AAI2 when Edgeworth told Sebastian to believe in himself. Seeing people (even fictional characters) struggle to believe they’re capable of doing what they’re called to do always tugs at my heartstrings.

Mod Justice: Dhurke’s death. Just... Dhurke’s death.

Why did he have to die so soon?!

Dear Anonymous,

Chief Mod Edgeworth: Gou Karuma is Manfred von Karma’s original name from the Japanese version of Ace Attorney. He’s actually called Karuma-san or Karuma-sama. That letter had Ryunosuke call him “Gou-kun” to indicate that they had met before when MVK was a kid.

-The Mods

[rubberduckyrye]

So last night I discovered a very old chat with someone I had an extremely bad falling out with in the Undertale fandom. After reading the final messages sent to me by that person, followed by what they did to me after the friendship had ended, I feel the need to no longer keep the vow of public silence I was.... idk if saying manipulated or forced is the right word (though it sure feels like I was manipulated, backreading with retrospect), but I was asked to keep the falling out of our friendship private and not make it public, for this person feared that if I made it public, I would end up cutting them off from their little friend group and chase them out of the fandom.

Though I will not be outing this person's nickname at the time, because this isnt a call out. This isn't a warning to "stay away from this user" or whatever. This is just... me finally breaking that "public silence" Vow, solely for myself, to give myself as much closure as I can get.

So yeah. Here goes a random rant about probably the second worst experience I've had in my fandom experience. Sorry for no read more, I can't figure out how to get it on mobile so.

So for the sake of this post, I will be calling the ex friend in question Maple.

Maple and I first met in what I call the "first phase" of the Undertale fandom, and I thought we hit it off pretty well. We rped a lot, talked a lot, ectect. And we eventually had more intimate/personal discussions about our respective traumas and abuses. I loved them as my friend, and I wanted to support them in any way I could.

An incident occurred where another Sans RPer was venting to me in DMs about how a thread with a certain Chara made them uncomfortable, or that just rping with them in general was uncomfortable, I don't exactly remember. So I told them point blank to tell the Chara mun the truth and to not string them along. They did. And I think that what happened next was the Chara mun was venting to me about this, and I told them that I encouraged the mun to be honest with them. They took it to mean "I told this mun not to RP with you" and gathered a bunch of their friends to block me for it. At the time, my brain didn't math well, so I don't think I put the two incidents together. To me, it felt like I was blocked by a bunch of my rp buddies out of nowhere. So I reacted pretty poorly.

This incident, apparently, was the inciting factor in Maple's discomfort with me. A discomfort they never addressed or spoke about with me.

Oblivious to their discomfort, I continued to interact with them as normal. But their behavior started changing towards me, and I started getting weird criticisms on my blog from an anon I'm going to refer to as DOAnon, and I'll explain why in a bit. Because of my actual worst experience in fandom happening prior to Undertale, I track my rp blogs (to this day I do) so if/when I get anon hate, it can give me the information I need to go to the police if it got as bad as it did in the fandom before Undertale. So I was tracking the movements of DOAnon and my friend whom I cared for dearly was acting strange. Eventually Maple started to vent in wingdings in a server we both occupied, venting in a way that made me think they were scared of someone, that they were afraid they were going to be hurt by this person. Note, this was YEARS ago, and I had to hand translate the wingdings text to normal text just to read it. But because Maple was my friend, I pushed through to try to help them. When their vent started making me think they were being harassed, I confronted them about it out of concern.

Needless to say, when they finally told me the vents were about me, I was upset.

However, because they were my friend, because I cared so much about them, I wanted to talk things out. Get to the bottom of the issue and resolve it. But Maple made it very, very clear that they didn't want to talk about it. They just wanted me out of their life, "for their own comfort," because they refused to have a discussion with me about the problem, let alone a solution.

So, deeply hurt, I reacted... well, better than I remembered reacting, actually. I was definitely upset, but my final words to them on discord weren't as vicious or biting as I remembered them to be. I basucally told them "You really dont want to talk about this??? Fine. Goodbye." And blocked them on everything I could think of. If they wanted me gone, I was going to stay gone.

But that wasnt the end of it.

Note I want to stress that from my perspective, Maple's discomfort and upset with me came out of nowhere. They never talked to me about it. For about a month or even more, they pretended like nothing was wrong. Hell, they vented about me to my face and it still didn't fully click they were upset at me.

So yeah. After your trust in someone you cared for so much was very suddenly broken like that, I did not react very well. I was emotional and impulsive and paranoid. I made a post on my RP blog saying I no longer felt safe or comfortable and that I was going on an indefinite hiatus. Apparently, Maple didn't like that, even if I wasn't talking about the details of our now-ended friendship publicly like they had asked me not to.

So Maple found the only blog I forgot to block them on and messaged me on tumblr. Now, I couldn't tell you what was said in those DMs. I was so emotionally distraught and hurt that I probably reacted a lot harsher and with a lot of venom. After all, I did what they wanted--I got out of their life, blocked them and didn't even imply that my feelings in my post were from a falling out with a friend. And they were block-evading me, so I do think it was much more of an argument than the discussion on Discord. I blocked them on their account, ready to just ride the waves of my hurt until I numbed over and moved on. I told a few close friends about what happened (still then trying not to say Maple's name but some figured it out anyway, not sure if I said anything or if Maple's vague vents about me on THEIR blog tipped them off, but I'll get to those in a bit regardless) and that was as far as it should have gone.

I made a new rule about how I wasn't comfortable following people who interacted with "people I've had issues with in the past" (yes, still keeping it vague for their sake) and that I'm more than fine with rping with people regardless if they interact with them or not, I just won't follow for my own comfort, and I asked that if anyone figured out who I was talking about, to not contact me about them/not to discuss them with me. I do believe I made a general hurt vent post after that as well, on a blog barely anyone followed, but again, I still kept my friendship break up a secret from the general public. Like I promised.

Again, apparently this was too much for them, and one of their friends messaged me on tumblr on their behalf.

I don't remember this conversation much either. Just that, I was angry, and they were being stupidly vague to me about Maple being the person they were talking about. After a fight with the friend, I blocked the friend. I then added a rule to my RP blogs to not to be a fucking asshole and use vague language to talk to me about a person you know I have a problem with.

I don't really remember much after that, but remember how I mentioned I was getting weird anons? Well, that's where this story takes a turn for the worse.

DOAnon started to get more aggressive with their asks they sent to me. I don't remember most of them, because there was just, so many passive aggressive/hate anons that I just tuned it out after a while. However, I was keeping track of them. The reason they were nicknamed DOAnon was because the tracker stated that their provider was DigitalOcean, which among other things, is a service that provides a VPN. After realizing this, and when the anon started saying things like "You chased someone out of the fandom" or used my more personal Insecurities in their attack on me, I was about 70% sure it was Maple, or a friend sent on Maple's behalf. They were hurtful and annoying, but there was a part of me that just, didn't want to believe it was Maple sending them. I wanted to have faith in that friendship, despite how it ended. I kept giving them excuses. I really tried to believe in them.

I figured DOAnon would get bored and move on eventually, but they never did. They stalked me onto new rp blogs, personal blogs, and sent in annoying and hurtful stuff. They even claimed I stole an idea for a character design from Maple, which bumped my suspicion from 70% to 80% that it was Maple or a friend of theirs. (To clarify I have, absolutely no idea what aspect Maple thought I was stealing, most of the design elements for the character were ideas given to me by Celest, but I digress) They were persistent, and they were annoying.

Eventually, they screwed up. They went onto a device that wasnt using the DigitalOcean VPN, and the tracker showed me that the anon was coming from Maple's state of residence. That's when I knew it was them. Even when I wanted to deny it, I knew deep down, Maple had to have been the one harassing me for... god, it was probably months after I tried to move on.

Around this time, I was made aware of the fact that Maple had been vagueposting/venting about me, a hell of a lot more than I was about them. Funny, rules for the and not for me, but I digress--I don't think they stated my name or anything, but my friends could tell immediately that Maple was talking about me. They had a goodbye post that made me out to gave chased them out of the fandom, and their description was as equally hateful towards me. It hurt, but the pain wasn't as bad due to how long it had been. I knew I didn't "chase them out" like they claimed--their own god damn paranoia did.

Finally, DOAnon--or, let's just call out who it was, Maple--finally took things way too far. Harassing me for months, Maple eventually sent me a link on anon to a gif image of a woman burning to death in her car.

This was the last straw. I made a public post, STILL keeping their identity a secret for, some godforsaken reason, under the advice of law enforcement--to essentially tell them to stop stalking and harassing me, or I WILL call the police again and get them arrested. They finally stopped harassing me after that.

They stalked my blog after that, sure, and I may have made posts noting that so they would be scared off even further, but I didn't get any more anons. Finally, after being scared enough, they stopped stalking me all together.

To this day, I'm still confused about everything. Bitter too. And I want to reiterate that this is not a callout post. This isn't aimed at them to get cancelled. I know I reacted poorly to the situation at the time and I was no innocent party. I may not have sent them anons or stalked them, but I also don't think I was entirely the victim either. Then again, maybe that's the part of me that I need to kill off--the part that keeps trying to excuse the shit Maple did to me all those years ago.

Again, I'm just... recounting the experience here publicly as a form of closure. As a form of letting go. I want to heal from this experience, as I never properly did. I want to trust in people, my loved ones, again. And I think by making this post, by breaking that promise of silence, I'm acknowledging that Maple was not and shouldn't have ever been considered one of those people. They might have been fine during our friendship, but the end and aftermath of it proved to me that my love in them was misplaced. Maybe I am a pure innocent victim who just reacted piss poorly to it all, or maybe I wasn't. I cannot tell you because I cannot trust my own judgement.

Anyway, I'm going to make this post unreblogable. I may repost it to a blog where this story is far more relevant, but I just wanted to get this out there.

Sorry for the sour story all of a sudden, and seemingly unprompted. But after being reminded of my promise, how I did my best to uphold it, and how I was treated regardless--I just. Needed to break the promise.

I needed to stop respecting the wishes of someone who ended up wanting nothing more than to hurt me. That's all this is.

[awritingcaitlin]

🔥Find the Word Tag Game🍻

I was tagged by @mjjune for the words: break, oppose, recognize, cross, fuck 😏

I love this game so much!

Tagging @pinespittinink, @sentfromwolves, @bebewrites, @botanistweak and @jediqueen95 for the words: right, behind, link, nod, fingers

And now, under the cut because I'm trying to be nicer to mobile users! 😂

From The Brewing War🔥

BREAK 🍷

Right as Rinnie was paying her tab, someone crashed into her and a cold wetness seeped into her lap. A glass hit the floor, but it bounced, enchanted not to break.

“Goddess Aenehra, I am so sorry!” the elf woman said in Edan.

Rinnie turned to look at her. She had short brown hair and a heart-shaped face. Her white blouse was crisp but she’d rolled up the sleeves. She looked casually disheveled in her drunkenness. Rinnie reasoned this woman must be in the first century of life. She stood and brushed the ice cubes out of her lap and onto the floor. The other woman steadied herself on the barstool, and looked at Rinnie with an apologetic expression on her face.

“Are you alright?” Rinnie asked, slipping easily into her native language. She wasn’t angry at her—she’d spent many years getting sloshed and making a fool of herself in bars not unlike this one, then waking up the next morning with, unfortunately at times, every memory. She and her cousin had been good at that. If one could be considered “good” at getting wasted.

The woman nodded. “People keep feeding me drinks.” She giggled and turned in the direction of the other sailors in the back corner. “Fuck, shit, Marrik! This is your fault!”

.

OPPOSE (OPPOSED) 📚

“Any suggestions for me?”

Riela looked to the shelves behind her, scanning the well-known scene for a book Nathaniel might enjoy that he also might not have read yet. Everything by DeWarn was out, but perhaps something by Weger?

She turned and walked over to where Weger’s books were. He wrote historical fiction as opposed to adventure. Some historical fiction went so far as to speculate what life was like before the Cataclysm. Weger stuck to the more recent years, when the Efrium Empire had been at its peak, with Berthingtonn as its great capitol. Riela personally liked the books because she liked reading about what South Efrium had been like before it had become Eswaisil.

Riela picked up Whispering Tides, thinking fondly of its contents. Weger wrote stand-alones, so they didn’t need to be read in any particular order. She handed the book to Nathaniel.

He took the book from her and nodded thoughtfully. “You know, I read a lot of historical fiction in school, but I haven’t read this one.”

“I think you’ll like it,” Riela said.

He grinned. “I’ll start reading it now.”

.

RECOGNIZE ✨

“Does the enchantment work for anyone else?”

“Only if I linked them to the gun too,” Rinnie said. “I suppose I might be able to get the spell on your gun to recognize me.”

“So basically, the sights will only work for me,” Taryn summed.

“The ones I put on, anyway.”

“That’s pretty sweet,” Taryn admitted. “Did you think of the idea yourself?”

Rinnie shook her head. “No, my uncle came up with it. Or he knew the guy who did. One of the two.”

“Wow.”

.

CROSS (CROSSED) 🙁

Rinnie nodded, like she had so many times when she was a child. She opened her eyes just as a pained and disoriented expression crossed her mother’s face. A vision.

“It’s time to return to the Embassy,” Ilani said quietly.

Rinnie nodded determinedly and hastily closed their telepathic connection, lest she get backlash. She wouldn’t see the images her mother saw, but she would feel the pain. Instead, she took her mother’s hand and squeezed it. The intricate and normally invisible pain-relieving tattoos on Ilani’s forehead and temple were beginning to pulse pink.

.

FUCK 🍆

She leapt back onto his lap and Nathaniel reached back up her skirt, running his fingers along her thighs. Riela moved to undo Nathaniel’s pants. Nathaniel switched to undoing Riela’s bodice. Their lips joined again.

They didn’t get any farther.

A pounding at Riela’s door followed by a high-pitched squeal completely interrupted the moment. Riela jumped three feet into the air and stumbled backwards. She frantically pulled her bodice tighter again. Nathaniel began refastening his pants.

“Riela!” Janna shrieked, the words outside the door becoming comprehensible. “Adrian proposed! Come see the ring!”

Riela’s shoulders slumped and she looked at her feet, unable to meet Nathaniel’s gaze. He groaned.

“Fuck me,” Riela whimpered.

“I was trying,” Nathaniel grunted.

[kittyminhyuk-blog]

Get To Know Me Tag

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people. (I’m not tagging 20)

Tagged by: @supersaiyum @minpuphyuk and @stan-the-best-stan-monsta-x ( a loooooooong time ago)

Tagging: @wonholyange @sonhyunwoomx @imchangki @reila-ravkong @94chae @wonhonnie @minhyuku @jhmx

THE LAST: 1. Drink: iced coffee 2. Phone call: my friend, she was lost 3. Text message: all the happy birthday texts 4. Song you listened to: S H I N E  F O R E V E R 5. Time you cried: The last time I laughed too hard so probably like two days ago

6. Dated someone twice: ew 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: so many times 8. Been cheated on: No 9. Lost someone special: :( 10. Been depressed: Haven’t we all 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: too many times (to add to @supersaiyum ‘s pro-tip, try to avoid throwing up in your friend’s garden, or a club toilet, or a sink, or your colleague’s bathroom, or your bin... or your hands.......

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12-14: black, blue, grey

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. Made new friends: All of you guys!!!! 16. Fallen out of love: I haven’t even fallen IN love lmao 17. Laughed until you cried: almost every day 18. Found out someone was talking about you: meh probably 19. Met someone who changed you: quite a few times actually 20. Found out who your friends are: I think I’ve learned not to care so much who you consider friends 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: I don’t think so... other than close friends obviously

GENERAL: 22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: I’m gonna say 98% 23. Do you have any pets: 3 cats, one pup 24. Do you want to change your name: I don’t mind my name 25. What did you do for your last Birthday: IT’S MY BIRTHDAY TODAY WOO & clearly I am doing this  26. What time did you wake up: 8am after having a weird dream about being the child of a mob boss and going to court??? idk where that came from 27. What were you doing at midnight last night: sleeping like the old lady i am 28. Name something you can’t wait for: I can’t wait to go home at the weekend

29. When was the last time you saw your mom: a couple a weeks ago 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: my appearance & self confidence 31. What are you listening right now: SHINE FOREVER  32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: yeah 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: my lack of motivation :/ 34. Most visited Website: Tumblr probably    

35. Mole/s: I have a lot, i think i counted once and it was like 60 holy moley 36. Mark/s: i have scars on: chin, chest, stomach, back, left forearm, left upper arm, thighs, shins and all over tops of feet. iM a MeSs??!? 37. Childhood dream: I wanted to be a fashion designer lmao i can’t even colour match what a stupid child 38. Haircolor: blonde 39. Long or short hair: Long the longest its ever been i think 40. Do you have a crush on someone: I’m not convinced I get crushes anymore lmao 41. What do you like about yourself: not much... I’m quite strong i guess 42. Piercings: I had lots but i don’t wear them any more :( 43. Bloodtype: A something 44. Nickname: ash, ted, teddy.

45. Relationship status: single (perpetually) 46. Zodiac: Cancer 47. Pronouns: she/her 48. Favorite TV Show: rpdr/first dates/sense8 49. Tattoos: None sadly 50. Right or left hand: Right 51. Surgery: None I’ve been pretty lucky 52. Hair dyed in different color: its been: white/pink/purple/blue/brown/blonde 53. Sport: pole 55. Vacation: i want to go on holiday so baddddd 56. Pair of trainers: 1 they’re trusty... plus you dont need trainers for pole

MORE GENERAL: 57. Eating: BIRTHDAY CAKE 58. Drinking: water or cofffee 59. I’m about to: get ready to go meet someone for a birthday coffee 61. Waiting for: A HOLIDAY ANY HOLIDAY PLEASE 62. Want: a skinny body lol 63. Get married: not bothered 64. Career: medical

WHICH IS BETTER 65. Hugs or kisses: both but hugs for longer please 66. Lips or eyes: E Y E S  67. Shorter or taller: not too much taller than me, im too short i cant reach... 68. Older or younger: depends on maturity 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: arms 100% 71. Sensitive or loud: both is good!

72. Hook up or relationship: hook ups are easier and im a commitment phobe lol but i probably need to grow up and have a relationship some time or another

73. Troublemaker or hesitant: im the hesitant one but i like knowing troublemakers

HAVE YOU EVER: 74. Kissed a stranger: many times 75. Drank hard liquor: MANY TIMES 76. Lost glasses/contact lenses:dont need them (thank goodness) 77. Turned someone down: yeah i should stop doing that 78. Sex on the first date: Nope 79. Broken someone’s heart: I hope not 80. Had your heart broken: no.. again... commitmentphobe lmao 81. Been arrested: nope 82. Cried when someone died: Obviously 83. Fallen for a friend: no thank goodness

DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. Yourself: Nope 85. Miracles: nope 86. Love at first sight: I hope it exists but i don’t think it’d happen to me 87. Santa Claus: no but cute concept 88. Kiss in the first date: if it feels right sure 89. Angels: nope

OTHER: 90. Current best friends name: i don’t have a best friend rn 91. Eyecolor: grey/blue 92. Favorite movie: Trainspotting

done

[zhongchl]

urls

bolded = won’t give away

italic = up for trade

any others i’m happy to just give away!

if you’d like one of these, whether you’re a mutual or not, please just let me know!! but only ask if you’re actually gonna use it obviously!

bts:

jungkookistheloveofmylife

3jswife

ilove3j

3jtual

jkraps

jkrap

jikooktual

nightwingjk

jmswifey

jungkookhaspurplehair

laughjeon

blondejh

jikookgf

jkcypher

rmseoul

husbandjm (mutuals only since we’d be matching!!)

jksdarling

girl groups/solo singers:

iijinsoul

heejinxed

[acedumbb]

(I wrote this in 10 minutes, so it must be horribly translated, sorry about that :((( )

(My best attempt at a one shot soft, let it show I'm terrible at shit sfw)

(HELP I NEVER USE TUMBLR FROM MOBILE AAAAAA)

A One Shot of Jotaro pt3 in love with a gentle Male!Reader.

cw;; smoking, slight mention of anxiety problems.

(y/n) had always been kind, charismatic and gentle, that is why he had earned the place as one of the most popular in the class, but he had never had as many people behind him as Jotaro Kujo did, he wanted to know his secret, how did he captivate so many people like that? So when he found out not only that he had a stand but that he was going to Egypt to fight other Stand users, he did not hesitate to volunteer.

At first (y/n) was jealous of JoJo's position, but after a while he realized that he was only curious about him, a mysterious attraction that forced him to keep an eye on the black-haired man all the time, he wanted to know what he was thinking, so it was clear that that was his goal, to read Jotaro Kujo's mind, to know what his way of seeing the world was, to understand his way of thinking, something that many would give as an impossible goal.

Surprisingly, he managed to win the trust and favor of the Crusaders easily, he even started to get along with them, and his impossible goal to read JoJo's mind was past history, he had completely forgotten it, now he was only there for them. Because it would be an injustice for Jotaro's mother to die like that, he wanted to help them.

And over time he joined the group, pranking others with Polnareff, playing video games with Kakyoin, and Joseph and Avdol always had something to discuss as a group, so of course, even though he had forgotten his previous goal, he still had reason to want to. get closer to JoJo.

Of course, when he had the opportunity to spend one night sharing a hotel room with Jotaro I do not doubt it and accept it, until now they had not had many dialogues, although he did not doubt that Jotaro felt something similar to him, since there not ​had been few occasions in which he had noticed the special attention that the black-haired man paid him at all times

— Jotaro, these are not hours to smoke..

— That does not concern you.

He sighed deeply, he was a bit bothered by the frequency with which the boy smoked, not only did he do it, which was bad in itself, but also that he was able to smoke several packs a day, which if he continued like this would seriously ruin his health.

— Why do you do it?

— Uhm? Do what?

— Smoking, people smoke when they feel bad, so I wanted to know if... you feel bad right now...

— ...Not right now.

(y/n) realized that as the opposite face was blushing, putting out the cigarette he had in his mouth, Jotaro lowered his cap a little, trying to hide his blush.

— ...I have an idea, if you feel bad, you can tell me, and I will try to cheer you up, so you won't feel so bad, what do you think?

So they quietly signed a contract, whenever Kujo needs it he would be there, inevitably both were excited about that, although the way they showed it was different.

So the days passed, against more enemies they fought, and at that moment they had thought of eating in a restaurant before going to the hotel, but Jotaro refused the food and went to his room directly, Joseph did not mind that, (y/n) wanted to accompany the boy since they both shared a room.

— JoJo?

Jotaro felt a chill when he heard the other's soft voice, he shrunk a little, he had gone out to smoke on the balcony of the room, he was somewhat ashamed that (y/n) will find him smoking, although of course, he would have been more ashamed tell him I was a little anxious.

— You're smoking? Bad boy, don't you remember what we talked about?

He jumped a bit from surprise when he felt that the minor was holding his hand, specifically the one he used to hold the cigarette, gently (y/n) slid over to the cigarette, grabbing it and then pulling it down, leaving Jotaro paralyzed, no one in his entire life, had ever dared to hold his hand, much less take a cigarette from his hands, it was something so new that he felt stupid respect for the contrary.

— What are you..?!

It seems that that was not the only thing that (y/n) was going to do for him that night, since he helped himself with his own stand to climb the balcony railing, sitting there to be at the imposing height of the black-haired man, (y/n) smiled sweetly with those thin lips that he had, a gesture that seemed terribly sexy to JoJo, as if he wanted to tempt him to do something very inappropriate for him.

— Jotaro, silly, don't ever make me do that again, I thought you'd make Star Platinum beat me up!

— What..?! But then don't do that again!

He became paralyzed again when he heard a slight laugh from the minor, who covered his mouth slightly to avoid laughing more, then did something that the black-haired man did not expect, he opened his arms and legs, inviting on the contrary to give him a good hug.

— I know you are not the type of person who likes to worry others with their problems, so I will spare myself from trying to ask you what it is that torments you, and I will jump to the part where I tell you that a hug cures all ills!

— Yare yare daze, you're crazy..

— Come on JoJo! It's just a hug, silly, I don't bite, at least not you.

Jotaro stayed in place for a few seconds, then he gave a long sigh, and to the incredible surprise of (y/n), JoJo hugged him tightly, burying his head on the opposite neck.

— Don't tell anyone about this, if you do I will kill you.

Jotaro was delighted with another of the boy's beautiful laughs, (y/n) also became more attached, relaxing with the smell of perfume that the younger man gave off, he surrounded him with his legs as best he could, it was a compromising position, of course, but at that moment, both they got so comfortable with each other that they didn't even think about it.

— ...Thanks, (y/n).

(...oh hell now i know what "cw" means!!!1!1!11!!1)

[saphirered]

I love your writing and I hope you feel better soon! I love, love, LOVED your Yussa HCs! Would you be able to do something with Yussa and his apprentice wizard/magic user SO? (I did send an ask but I think its still broken on mobile.) Thanks! <3

Thank you! This turned into a story instead of headcanons but I hope you like it regardless and sorry this took a while. 😘

The streets of Nicodranas had never felt more like home until you saw the familiar tower creep into your line of sight. Just the view of the building is enough to bring a smile to your face. Moving between the crowds of the busy market you run some errands, gather some supplies, stock up on some components before you continue on towards that tower. Standing at its foot you wait for the door to appear as it usually would but to your surprise it does not. You frown. You wait another minute calling up for Wensforth. No response. You call for Yussa. No response. You grow suspicious so using what gifts were granted to you you speak the words and trace the familiar sigil in the air. The door appears and swings open. You step through into the entrance hall, seeing Wensforth running down the stairs, out of breath looking frantic. At first you worry something might have happened but when the goblin composes himself that worry at least eases.

“Welcome back! Please allow me to escort you to your chambers. You must be exhausted from your travels.” The goblin speaks as he gently pulls at the edge of your cloak motioning for you to undo the clasp. No longer needing it to protect yourself from the harsh sunlight, you slip it off and allow Wensforth to gather it in his arms folding it neatly like he usually does.

“Thank you, Wensforth. I am quite alright. Is Yussa in his study? I’d like to see him.” You’ve been gone for some time and would like nothing more than to spend your time with Yussa, recovering from your travels in the company and embrace you’ve missed the past few weeks. You move to walk up the stairs but the goblin steps out in front of you.

“But you must be famished, I’ll prepare some food while you have tea in the drawing room.” Beads of sweat begin to gather at his brow. Clearly something’s up. You’re a master of the house as much as Yussa is ever since you moved in together and Wensforth has always treated as such so why is he going out of his way, keep you from wandering. Putting the pieces together you cross your arms and tap your foot giving Wensforth a look like a parent scolding their child after being caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“Wensforth…” You say and you must admire the goblin for not spilling the beans right then and there. Usually he would have, or tried to find a way to work around the wording of the order given simply to avoid stress and conflict any of any kind. So when he doesn’t you try to make for the stairs, again he gets in your way so as a last resort you simply speak the words, allowing yourself to move though the fabric of space and appear midway up the stairs. Wensforth scurries after you but is too far behind to catch up.

“Yussa?” You call his name but no answer comes so you continue until you reach his personal study opening the door. He’s not there either. You know he’s not out of the house. Wensforth revealed that much so first space you go check is the sitting room. You knock before entering but don’t bother to wait for a reply. What you didn’t expect were eyes falling to you. Confused eyes, save for the one familiar pair which express a hint of panic.

“Ah, I didn’t mean to interrupt but I left the things I brought for you in your study. Should I-“ You point back towards the hallway but before Yussa can reply a blue tiefling jumps up from the couch and makes her direction towards you pulling you into the room.

“Oh my gosh! Yussa you never told us other people came here. Are you his apprentice? You must be! Hi, I’m Jester.” The whirlwind of joy and energy speaks as she pulls you over to the others. Giving them a read over you gleam a couple of things. You do recall Yussa’s message a couple of weeks ago mentioning a group of adventurers and their antics or rather recklessness as he put it so you feel safe to assume this is them. Then you notice the mechanical ball on the table, parts of it continuously moving. You grow suspicious. Yussa is not one to neglect mentioning a new acquisition or discovery to you. You know he loves your approval and praise so he’d never hide that from you unless he knows you’ll disapprove. When you make eye contact with him after he notices you see the ball you know he knows you’d disapprove.

“You could say that, yes. I’ve been a student of the arcane for quite a while.” It wasn’t a lie and while it certainly did raise some eyebrows, some not entirely buying the story solely based on the fact that Yussa prides himself in being a solitary creature, you move on. Much to Yussa’s displeasure you’re introduced to the bunch of chaos that is known as the Mighty Nein and informed about the ongoing troubles with this ‘happy fun ball’. The more they tell you, the more Yussa starts fearing facing you when they leave.

Eventually they do leave, you and Yussa alone once more, retreating to the study while Wensforth cleans up the mess left in the wake of the visitors. You go over the artefacts you got from your travels along with the difficult to acquire precious components you managed to retrieve. You seated on the desk, Yussa in his chair looking over copies you’ve made from the ruins you came across noting intricacies not seen in the arcane for many ages.

“So… would you like to explain to me how you got trapped in an artefact created by an ancient zealot that quite literally is called the ‘Mage’s Bane’ and these friends of yours had to get you out? Or should we start with the fact you’ve been hiding this happy fun ball from me for months and swore Allura to secrecy on what happened when I just saw her? Maybe instead you’ll prefer to explain how it is that every time the Mighty Nein has been in town something popped up that required my attention and presence elsewhere expediently?” You tap your chin as Yussa puts down the papers on the desk and looks at you sitting back in his chair head leaning on his fingertips as he gives you an unreadable look.

“If you are asking for my preference I’d rather avoid all of them but we both know that won’t happen so please, have at it.” He waves off but you nudge him with your foot giving him a disapproving look that just makes him sigh.

“I just wish you would have told me.”

“I won’t apologise for shielding you from the dangers of that artefact.”

“I’m not asking for an apology and I also know nothing I say can prevent you from doing whatever you set your mind to. I wouldn’t dare try. Has our time together not taught you that?” You move the papers from in front of him to the side and slide over until you’re sitting right in front of the mage. You take both his hands in yours and out of habit his thumbs stroke lazily over the back of your hands. It’s as close to an apology you’d get in this but you don’t want nor need an apology. You’ve not lasted this long together simply on always agreeing or avoiding conflict instead of facing it. You know Yussa better than anyone and he you. You accept each other for who you are and wouldn’t have it any other way. You telling him it’s not his actions that you have a problem with but simply the fact that he left you in the dark instead of communicating with you, alleviates Yussa’s worries.

“What I am very offended by however, is the matter you downplayed the fact you’ve been making some new friends. I’d at the very least would have like to meet them. Then again, they are quite chaotic so perhaps your fear of too much chaos may have been your reasons not to?” You grin as it’s Yussa’s turn to give you a disapproving smile, the tension he previously held completely drained and gone.

“You say that as if you did not enjoy playing the part of my apprentice in front of the Mighty Nein.” The million questions and simple statements he’d be facing about your involvement with him next time he’ll reunite with the bunch of adventurers he’ll dread most. Maybe it would be good to have you there with him, if only to not face them on his own.

“On the contrary. You should have seen yourself. I usually do not take joy in making you squirm like so but I won’t deny my own satisfaction.”

“You are too cunning for your own good, my dear.”

“I’ve been away for a while. Someone needs to provide a little mischief in your life.” With that you see a glint of mischief in his eyes. His hands release yours and find their way to your hips, with the push of an arcane hand and the pull of the ones on your hips you’re in the mage’s lap, leaving your mouth agape and a satisfied smirk from Yussa. You’ll have to applaud him for catching you off guard. Draping one arm over his shoulder you gently run your fingers through the white hair affectionately still with a hint of teasing.

“How long do you think it’ll take them to catch on to what we actually are and how much of a shock it will be that their stone-cold all powerful mage friend and ally who hardly every leaves his tower has a heart of gold and a lover so sweet?” You press featherlight kisses along his jaw. Yussa can feel the smile on your lips as you do. He’s missed this. He’s missed you.

“Is that a challenge I hear? Willing to place bets?” You pull back enough to raise an eyebrow as his fingers rub gentle and precise circles in your hips and thighs. A dare.

“Against you? I already know I’d lose.” You know you will. Yussa is competitive, especially when he sets his mind to it but as it happens so are you. Though, in this specific query you may not want to win and might benefit greatly from losing.

“If you win, I’ll speak to Oremid to get you access to those tomes you’ve been wanting to study.” Yussa offers and now it has your interest piqued.

“And if you win, I’ll cancel my trip to Tal’Dorei and the meetings with the Pansophical next month.” You pull back and stop your kisses to see his response. Just as expected you see that glint in his eyes you love seeing so much, a determination.

“Agreeable. Should we get back to discussing your exploits?” Yussa teases knowing fully well your mind is on anything but whatever the hell you found overseas.

“I can think of some other exploits and better activities to occupy or time mutually beneficial for the both of us.” You state and Yussa doesn’t need to be told twice. Your lips find his and all worries and concerns of the world are forgotten. Plenty will find you the moment you leave the comforts of your own space or whenever chaos comes knocking but Yussa will brave it, especially with you at his side to keep him grounded and prevent him from making the more self-destructive choices, or face them with him as a united front.

[mmmonie]

I have obey me brain rot and I physically cannot take it anymore so here are some random HCS I fucking busted out about demons under the read more (and some angel stuff thrown in. For fun. Spice is the variety of life or whatever) I formatted this on mobile so forgive me for my crimes pls..... 😔

Also as an fyi I have never written anything in my life <3 (and also I’m dyslexic) so if something sounds stupid I’m sorry lol <3 also I’m sure u can tell but I never know where to put commas so if that bothers u........sorry again lol

*There are (at least) two demonic languages: one is a bit like Latin albeit way more fucked up. The second one is spoken only. A human can learn to understand both but the second one requires a lot of concentration to discern due to the subtlety in the growls, clicks and other noises demons are capable of making. It’s also very dependent on body language, especially in demonic form.

*It would be nearly impossible for a human to be fluent in the second one because of that. (unless you’re like. A really good mimic?)

* the second one is the oldest language. The new language and it’s written counterpart are derived from it with a little twist, so you’ll still hear some interesting noises thrown in there. It would take some dedication to learn, though the written part is fairly easy once you get the hang of it. It was made to be read quickly and efficiently. The speaking part however...................good luck.

* Demons and angels can instantly pick up human languages including reading and writing. Wouldn’t do you much good to be summoned in like. Germany and not know the language LOL

* Demons purr LOL you can’t click and growl and NOT purr. Like cats, it is both a happy thing and a self soothing thing.

* There is a slight difference between a happy purr and a self soothing purr, but the difference depends entirely on the demon.

* Demons (and angels) are nearly impossible to kill. It’s also very hard to damage them in any meaningful way. They also heal very quickly, so even if you did get a good hit on one, if they managed to get away chances are they’d heal in a matter of hours.

* Stronger demons like the brothers are even MORE impervious to damage. The amount of times Beel’s reached into the oven barehanded just to pop a piping hot cookie in his mouth is insane. He swears it’s the best way to eat them.

* Angels are very stiff but very physically powerful. They have a lot of control over their bodies and are trained from a young age to be able to wield that power responsibly.

* Demons on the other hand are incredibly flexible and bounce back easily. Though your average demon might not be the same physical strength as an angel, they have agility on their side. Angels are heavy hitters where demons rely on their ability to strike multiple times very quickly.

* This was a very weird transition for the brothers, though the amount of strength they had barely changed between realms. Fallen angels don’t change that much strength wise, but a little bit is burned up in the fall (to protect themselves.)

* Angels may be strong but demons also posses a massive amount of strength and have to learn to control it over time. This is known as a “juvenile phase” but it happens at different ages depending on how they were born. Fallen angels do not go through this as they have already learned to keep a grip on their power. Do I have an entire separate post ready about this bc I just couldn’t shut up? Maybe...

* There are four ways of being “born” a demon. Fallen angels, half demons, human borns and natural demons.

* Humans can choose to be turned into demons, but it is a very painful process and they won’t be able to gain any strength, what they get is what the get. They are referred to as “human born” and were considered the lowest of the humanoid demons until Diavolo came into power.

* Human born used to just be made whenever by whoever but that caused problems. Demons would make human borns and then just leave them to flounder about by themselves in an unknown territory. Diavolo’s father put an end to that during his reign, but “accidents” still happen. Now you have to do paperwork if you want to turn your human friend/lover into a demon lol.

* The ceremony for turning humans into demons is incredibly complex, which is why banning making human born unless given permission is less of a problem than you’d think.

* Half demons are just that, they’re only half demon. Most are half human but there are a few other kinds of magical creatures mixed in there. They aren’t as strong as a natural demon nor a fallen angel but they can gain power through their other ancestry. Many of them specialize in unique kinds of magic.

* Half human/demon children aren’t as rare as you’d think they are. This is due to the fact that demons have all sorts of ways to keep a demonic baby alive. Ranging from shapeshifting and (magically) taking the baby themselves once it’s grown enough to handle the transition to various forms of potions and spells to help a human along.

* Half demons and natural demons have the luxury of being born already (mostly) acclimated to the devildom, making some of the transitions that come with a demons lifespan easier on them than human born and fallen angels.

* Angels are taught to control/ignore their instincts where demons are taught to rely on/embrace theirs. Because demonic instincts often work against the things taught in the celestial realm fallen angels have a hard time adjusting to their new environment. Though, as their sins overtake them, their instincts become easier to fall back on.

* Demons have multiple forms, not just the two shown in game. All in all, the brothers have 5, each becoming less and less humanoid.

* Half/human born demons are more likely to have both a tail and wings in their first demonic form. Stronger demons like the brothers are merely showing off the strongest of the two, but everyone has both. (Bc I think they slap LOL *points* u get a tail and wings! *u get a tail and wings*)

* •a demons features can be influenced by what sin they are, but it’s not a hard or fast rule. Don’t be surprised if a demon who looks more akin to Mammon is actually a Sloth demon.***this does not apply to little Ds who’s look is entirely dependent on their sin. Little Ds are an entirely separate conversation 😈

* human borns/half demons can have two sins assigned to them, though this makes them less powerful in both. Usually there is a more prominent sin.

* Diavolo’s rule has helped quite a bit with bringing humans into a new better light, and many natural born demons who haven’t been able to interact with the human realm have become increasingly curious about humans and the way they work. Much of this is due to media that was brought from the human world to sedate Dia’s intense curiosity.

* In the eyes of many older demons, humans are merely playthings and it is expected that most demons will eventually mate with at least one other demon. A human and a demon dating is seen as just infatuation on the demons part, and it’s often thought that there are no real feelings behind a relationship like that. However there have been/are many successful and happy human/demon relationships.

* Demons don’t really have a concept of marriage. They live so long there really isn’t a point to tying yourself to one single person (or a few people) However, that’s not to say that there aren’t relationships like that. There are binding ceremonies for expressing love and devotion to other beings and it has its own unique culture.

* though the gates to the human realm are still technically closed and have been for a long time, demons can still be summoned by witches (sorcerers, wizards, warlocks, whatever you call yourself.) They can also be successfully summoned if you are not a magic user, however this is rare and often can go wrong, much like horror movies.

* Summoning very powerful demons like the brothers is incredibly hard even for an extremely experienced magic user, so often the demon you get claiming to be Satan really isn’t LOL. There are demons who are actually assigned to go to summonings in the place of the seven lords of hell, but many demons will just take on the role to fuck around with whomever summoned them. You think a prince of hell has time to just go possess some object or person for fun? (Ok...Mammon Satan and Belphie might.......if they’re bored enough LOL)

* Demons are actually relatively cuddly creatures. They might be a little rough with strangers but base instincts with family members will always be to coddle rather than fight. They’re more like humans in that right.

* Angels don’t do much casual touching, they’re very uptight. Beel and Belphie being as close as they are was a bit of an oddity in the celestial realm. That’s not to say angels don’t need causal touch lol just that they were trained to avoid that “temptation”.

* the brothers had a hard time starting out in the Devildom because of this. They still have a hard time with casual touches, which is why they seem so touched starved with the MC.

Things I might elaborate on later:

* There is a difference between demons, incubi and succubi but it’s not what you think it is.

* Demons, angels and humans all have very different takes on gender.

* The juvenile phase (DO not tempt me I wrote out like 1000 words about it bc I couldn’t shut the fuck up)

* Animals in the Devildom are fucked up. I WILL fucking talk about this bc it’s my passion.

* Pacts and how they work..........

* Maybe I’ll also elaborate on the hierarchy/power structure of demons sometimes 

[spencers-renaissance]

dry me off and hold me close

Summary: Derek has finally relented and is bringing his boyfriend Spencer to meet the rest of the team. That means, though, he has to finally tell them about his boyfriend's disability. Terrified that they'll react badly, he puts it off until he can't anymore. Turns out he was worried for nothing.

Tags: so much fluff, protective derek, disabled spencer, caretaker derek, au: spencer is not in the bau, team as family, hurt/comfort, light angst, est. rel, day to day disabled life, physical disability/chronic illness

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 5.7k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Hello! I am nervous to share this one, I won't lie. It's incredibly personal. It was a pain in the arse to write but I love how it turned out and I hope you do, too. Just a note: this may be triggering for some people - there is description of nausea and severe chronic pain, as well as frequent references to ableism towards wheelchair users.

As soon as Rossi brings up the prospect of a fully-catered family dinner at his ‘mansion’ this weekend, Derek’s heart sinks. They’re on their way home from a pretty gruelling case and it’s well-deserved of course, but he knows what comes next, knows what question will be asked of him, and he’s dreading it. There’s only so long he can go on avoiding answering. 

“Please tell me you’ll finally let us meet Spencer, Derek,” JJ asks, levelling him with a look to rival one of Penelope’s. “At this point I’m starting to think you’ve made him up.” 

Spencer is very real. He’s a very real, very sexy, very intelligent man who Derek has no doubt would get on brilliantly with the team. But Spencer also happens to be disabled. And while his boyfriend has had decades to get to terms with broaching such a sensitive, taboo topic, Derek has not. He’s far from ashamed of Spencer — that’s not it at all — he’s just so protective of him, and the idea of others being touchy or patronising or outright rude around him is an idea he’s never been able to get used to, no matter how many times he’s witnessed it.

Derek’s laugh is strained as he rubs his face awkwardly, trying to find the words to politely decline, but the others are pouncing on him before he can speak. 

“You’ve put it off enough times now, Morgan,” Emily says, siding with JJ. “If he’s even half of what you say he is then we’ll love him. Just bring him along. Rossi doesn’t mind.”

“Oh no, I’m dying to meet the man who could finally tie Derek Morgan, ladies man extraordinaire, down,” Rossi chimes in.

“He definitely sounds like my kind of guy,” Alex agrees. “I’m impressed you managed to land such an educated man, Derek.”

He looks sort of desperately towards Hotch who raises his hands guiltily. “I would actually like to meet him, too, Morgan,” he says reluctantly, a rare smile playing across his face.

Derek groans and throws his head back against his plane seat. He can only be glad Penelope isn’t on the flight because she’d be absolutely relentless in such a conversation. 

As hesitant as he is to let his team in, maybe it is time to finally get over himself and bring Spencer to meet them. After all, none of them have ever given him actual cause to be so nervous, and he knows they’d all inevitably fall in love with him almost as quickly as Derek did, so really it’s his own fears and fierce protective instincts keeping Spencer away from his second family. 

“Fine,” he relents, anxious butterflies not easing. “He’s home this weekend, and apart from planning lectures I think he’s free, so I’ll ask him. But I can only promise to ask, I won’t promise he’ll agree.” It’s a pointless caveat; Spencer’s been bugging him to meet the team almost as long as they’ve been bugging him to meet Spencer, he’ll jump at the chance to go to dinner with them. 

“Finally,” JJ groans, pretending to collapse against Emily in relief, who giggles fondly at her antics.

“I’m sure we’ll love him, Derek,” Rossi says reassuringly, a proud fatherly look on his face that has his chest clenching painfully. 

As everyone settles down, his stomach churns anxiously as he stares back out of the jet window. He knows everyone will love Spencer; he just doesn’t know how to tell them what to expect. What if Spencer has a fainting episode or gets nauseous at dinner time? What if he can’t keep his energy up or is too photosensitive to have the lights on? What if meeting that many people at once overwhelms him? Spencer always tells him he worries too much, but he can’t help it — not when the love of his life is involved. 

He’s brought out of his nervous stewing by Hotch. “You know, Morgan, if you really don’t want to bring Spencer, you don’t have to,” he says softly, making him look up to see everyone staring at him guiltily. 

“We didn’t mean to pressure you,” JJ says hesitantly, and the others agree, all clearly having noticed his pensive expression.

He forces himself to take a calming breath and bite the damn bullet already. Spencer would be rolling his eyes at him. “Okay. There’s something I haven’t told you,” he starts carefully. He hasn’t had to introduce the concept of Spencer’s disability to anybody since he told his family. “Spencer is disabled. He has a chronic condition that impairs his mobility along with bringing a whole host of other symptoms, and while he’s had it for most of his adult life, I’m still not used to broaching the topic and I didn’t know how you would react. He already experienced enough difficulties in life, he doesn’t need my co-workers, hypothetically, being patronising or weird about it. So, I put it off.”

It feels like a weight off his chest once it’s out in the air, but the surprised looks on his team’s face make him briefly wonder whether telling them was a mistake after all. “Spencer will really look forward to coming though,” he rushes to continue. “He’s on his own a lot of the time and struggles to make it out of the house except for work if I’m not there, so he can feel quite isolated. It will be nice for him to spend time with other people, and finally meet you guys.”

By the time he’s finished speaking, everyone seems to have mostly recovered from their immediate shock, and look relaxed and intrigued again — far more appreciated expressions on Derek’s end. 

“Well,” Rossi starts, and he feels like holding his breath in anticipation, “will he need any accommodations?” Relief spreads warm and thick across Derek’s chest as he feels himself physically relax. Of course immediate support would be the response from his team; he was stupid to think otherwise. 

“His mobility fluctuates daily. Sometimes he can walk small distances okay, other times — and more frequently — he needs aids like forearm crutches or his wheelchair. Can I text you on the day and let you know?”

“Of course,” Rossi promises, a warm smile on his face, “whatever you and Spencer need.”

“There is one more thing, if Spencer’s coming it will need to be earlier in the evening… think more six rather than eight. He’ll be too exhausted later in the evening and he needs to be home early to get the amount of sleep he needs.”

“That’s fine,” Rossi agrees immediately, “six it is.”

“Sorry for pressuring you, Derek,” JJ says, tilting her head as she looks across the table at him. “But we’ll love Spencer, this won’t change anything.”

“Yeah, fuck you for thinking we’d be assholes about it,” Emily chuckles, punching him softly in the arm. 

Derek grins at her before shaking his head. “I’m just too protective of him,” he explains a little guiltily. “He thinks it’s ridiculous but I can’t help it. We’ve been together nearly five years now and I’ve seen the things he has to go through, professionally and in his day to day life. I just saw an area for potential harm, no matter how slim the chances, and immediately bricked it up in my mind. It’s hard to tear walls down like that.”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” Alex says in her signature gentle tone, smiling at him.

“I can’t wait to meet him,” Hotch agrees and Derek gives them all another quick smile before they settle in for the rest of the flight. 

It’s late by the time Derek unlocks the door to his and Spencer’s home and he knows his boyfriend will already be in bed. It had been a weird adjustment when they’d first started dating, Spencer having to be home by 10pm so Spencer could get at least nine hours of sleep, topped up by regular naps during the day. Now though, he’s completely used to operating around Spencer’s sleep schedule; it’s just routine. 

He makes his way through the house quietly, toeing his shoes off and shedding his coat before dumping his bag in the living room and padding up the stairs. The house is dark but their room is dimly lit by Spencer’s night lamps, there to ease him off to sleep and keep him company when bouts of painful insomnia torment him. There was a time Derek used to mind, but those days seem so long ago now. He climbs carefully onto the mattress, taking off his trousers and socks but not bothering to change into anything new.

As gentle as he is with his movement, Spencer still stirs beside him. “Derek?” He blinks sleepily over at him in the soft light of the bedroom and Derek immediately scoots over and wraps him in a hug. It might be gone midnight but he misses Spencer like crazy when he’s away and physical contact is very much essential business right now.

“Yeah, baby,” he whispers as he relishes the feeling of Spencer’s small frame against his own. “Sorry I woke you.”

“It’s okay. Just glad you’re home. Missed you.”

“I promise I missed you more,” Derek murmurs as the warmth of the room and comforting presence of his boyfriend wrapped around him finally break down the walls he’s been holding back the sleepiness working a 5 day case inevitably brings. 

“Make me pancakes in the morning?” 

Spencer doesn’t need to ask, it’s a tradition for Derek to make pancakes for breakfast the day he gets back from the case, but it makes him smile anyway. “Anything for you, baby boy,” he yawns. “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

⭐️

Derek waits until dinner the next evening to bring up the subject of the dinner party. It’s just a simple takeaway on the sofa of the house Derek had renovated for them, but even five years into their relationship, every moment shared with Spencer feels like a date. 

“How would you feel about going to a dinner party with the team?” Derek asks when there’s a lull in their conversation. Spencer’s just finished explaining a complicated debate he’s having with one of his colleagues about kinetic particle theory and Derek has no idea how to respond. Moments like these used to make him feel stupid and inadequete when they first got together, but now he just stares fondly at his genius boyfriend and wonders how on earth he got so lucky. 

Spencer lowers his fork. They’re eating chinese but he still hasn’t mastered chopsticks, and it never fails to make Derek smile. “Are you serious?” he says, an excited grin spreading across his face.

“I am.” He quirks an amused eyebrow as he takes in Spencer’s eager expression. God, he’s so fucking in love.

“Well obviously I want to go,” he giggles, “you know that. When is it?”

“Saturday.”

Spencer just launches himself into Derek’s lap in lieu of response, not that he has far to move on their cosy sofa, slotting himself against his body as they melt into one another. “Thank you for finally getting over yourself,” he says with his face buried in Derek’s neck.

Derek’s responding laugh jostles both of them as he wraps his arms around Spencer’s small frame, loving the way he fits in the palms of his hands. “I’m sorry it took me so long, baby,” he says, tone transitioning into sincerity. “But they can’t wait to meet you, and you’re going to love them.”

“I know,” Spencer says drily, pulling back to look him in his eyes. “Why do you think I’ve been pushing to meet them for the last five years?”

Derek answers with a squeeze to Spencer’s waist and a kiss to his shoulder. “Go on,” he says, lifting him off his lap to sit on the sofa next to him. “Finish your dinner.” 

“Mm, I think I’ve had enough,” Spencer hums nonchalantly, busying himself with putting the carton on the coffee table as if Derek doesn’t know him like the back of his hands. 

“This is your favourite dish from your favourite Chinese and you’re expecting me to believe you’ve just had enough,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “What’s wrong, pretty boy?”

“Nothing,” Spencer says, but he sounds winded and Derek isn’t stupid. He levels him with a look. “Okay… I just feel a bit sick is all.”

“Floor, sofa, or bed?” He’s aware of the nausea protocol, and he moves his own dinner aside as he springs into action. 

“Floor.” He’d been surprised the first time his boyfriend had crawled onto the floor and lay curled up until the nausea passed, but it was second-nature now. Apparently, the flat, firm surface was the most comfortable when such intense sickness consumed him.

“Okay, baby, let’s go.” He gently lifts Spencer off the sofa and down onto the floor, taking care not to jostle him too much. His eyes stay closed, face screwed up as he tries to weather the waves of nausea crashing over him. It never fails to make Derek’s heart twist in pain. “Are you actually going to be sick?” The majority of nausea spells usually pass on their own with no vomit to speak of, and Spencer’s usually very good at telling which kind it is.

“No,” he whispers, reaching his hand slowly towards Derek’s and gripping it tightly. He gets the message and lays down next to him, stroking his hair softly as they wait in silence for Spencer’s body to right itself. It only takes about twenty minutes to pass, and when it does, Derek carries him to bed, bringing him his toothbrush and a flannel as they follow another of their set routines that have been established over so many years of being together. 

“I love you so much, Spencer Reid,” Derek murmurs as they lay in bed together that night, the soft light of their bedroom catching on Spencer’s cheekbones.

“I love you more, Derek Morgan,” Spencer whispers back, voice slurred as he cuddles further into the arms of his boyfriend. 

“Not possible,” Derek insists, but Spencer’s already dropping off to sleep. 

⭐️

Spencer wakes up on the day of the dinner party in what Derek can clearly see is nothing short of agony. He doesn’t try to hide it, they’re mostly past that now — although he still sometimes convinces himself he can handle smaller symptoms by himself, no matter how many times Derek insists they’re a team — but he doesn’t say much either. The morning is spent on the sofa, using numerous heated blankets and painkiller combinations until he can at least think straight. 

“How do you feel about this evening?” Derek asks as lunchtime approaches, rubbing Spencer’s good arm gently as he leans against him, legs outstretched on the chaise. 

Spencer hums. “I’m gonna take a nap after lunch,” he decides after a moment of deliberation, “and then decide. I think with meds and the wheelchair, I’ll be okay.” He pauses for a moment as he nibbles nervously on his bottom lip. “Do you think they’ll be weird about the chair?”

“No, baby,” Derek says decisively. Really, he can’t believe he ever thought anything different, but he was scared and fear easily spirals into irrationality. “They won’t even blink. Especially since I warned them about the mobility aids. I think they’d be more surprised if you walked into the Rossi mansion.”

“You sure?”

It hurts Derek’s heart to hear him so anxious and uncertain, and it’s only more painful because he knows it's rooted in experience. He’s had to fight for most of his life to be seen as a competent adult, equal to his peers despite his disability, and people can be cruel. “I’m sure. And even if for some reason they were dicks about it, I’m there, okay? Nobody’s gonna get away with being anything other than an angel towards you when I’m around.”

Spencer giggles at that, turning his head into Derek’s chest. “You turn into the hulk when you’re protecting me.” 

“I do,” he agrees, chuckling at the sound of Spencer’s adorable laugh, “and for good reason. No-one hurts my baby. You know that, and everyone else knows it, too. We’re gonna be just fine, pretty boy.”

Spencer sighs, reassured by Derek’s words. “Love you,” he whispers, twisting a bit to press a kiss to the side of Derek’s neck. 

“I love you more,” Derek promises, lifting a hand to rest on Spencer’s cheek.

“Not possible.”

The rest of the day passes slowly as Spencer takes it easy, deciding that he’s definitely up to it after a decent nap curled up against a reading Derek. They get ready together, Derek helping him shower when his arms hurt too much to wash his hair and getting him dressed in his favourite outfit before dressing himself. 

By the time six thirty rolls around, Spencer’s feeling a little bit better, his meds are hitting the spot and they’ve mastered all the wheelchair adaptations to make his life as easy as possible over the years. His cushions and heated seats connected to the wheelchair’s motor, which he uses to help self-propell at work, ease the pain as much as they can and the built in phone charger always makes him popular whenever they go out with friends. Plus, his cane and crutches connect neatly to the back of the chair, giving him more options, which is especially helpful on nights like this. 

“Comfy?” Derek asks as he pushes him out of the apartment and into the hallway, locking the door behind them. 

Spencer hums in affirmation, wiggling a little as he settles into the warm support of the chair. They have a ground floor apartment for safety reasons: Spencer needs to be able to exit the building if the lifts stop working, but it’s also convenient. They get down to the garage quickly and Derek helps him into the passenger seat before packing the wheelchair in the boot.

He spends the journey in contemplative silence and Derek can’t keep himself from shooting worried looks his way. His hand makes its way onto Spencer’s knee and he rubs his thumb gently against the skin, before stilling the digit, all too conscious of how painful repetitive stimulus can be, especially on days like these. 

“Stop worrying, baby,” he says, ten minutes into the drive when Spencer still hasn’t said a word. His bottom lip is chapped from the worried chewing it has endured for most of the day. “They’re going to love you, I promise.” 

“You really think so?” 

Derek’s about to answer quickly but he looks over and sees how absolutely dead serious Spencer is. He sighs. “Let me tell you exactly why. Alex is a fellow academic with the softest streak of anyone in the BAU field team. Emily and JJ have the ability to befriend literally anyone, and Penelope already is in love with you, just from what I’ve said about you. She’s told me so multiple times. Rossi immediately accommodated you and wasn’t at all fazed when I mentioned your disability. Hotch is a gentle fatherly type when he’s talking to good people and the rest of the team, so he’ll just be interested in you as a person. There’s no-one I’m worried about, okay?”

“Okay,” Spencer whispers eventually, finally sounding like he actually believes him. 

“Besides, you’ve already got one member of this team whipped,” Derek smirks, glancing over at him again. 

He considers it a win when Spencer rolls his eyes, and his grin couldn’t be wider when he hears him mumble, “arrogant asshole” under his breath.

Derek’s grateful Rossi doesn’t have a gravel driveway as he gets Spencer out of the car and into his wheelchair, before pushing him the short way to the front door. They’d battled some tough terrain over the years, and gravel was absolutely his least favourite. As they approach the house, though, he notices that Spencer’s grip on his armrest is tight enough that his knuckles are white, and it hurts Derek’s heart that he’s only this nervous because real people and real experiences have given him genuine reason to be. 

Before he gets to knock, though, the door is thrown open by an uncontainably excited Penelope. “You’re here!” she shouts, and completely bypasses Derek to shake Spencer’s hand. He’s glad she doesn’t crouch, just leans down a little so he doesn't have to reach up so far. “You must be Spencer. I’m Penelope. It is a crime that Derek has kept us apart for so long, but none of that matters now. Would you like me to push you in through to meet the others?”

“Um, it’s nice to finally meet you, Penelope,” he says, smiling at her genuinely. “Would you mind if Derek keeps pushing me, though?”

“Oh, no, that’s fine!” Her smile doesn’t drop a bit. “Come through, everyone’s already in the living room. Oh, and hi Chocolate Thunder.” She sends him a quick wink. 

“Hi, Mama,” he says, rolling his eyes. He’s grinning, though. So far, so good. 

They follow Penelope further into the house after Derek closes the door behind them, and the girls get up first. “Spencer, oh it’s so good to meet you,” Emily says, coming up and shaking his hand. “I’m Emily, this is JJ.”

“Hi,” JJ says, shaking his hand too, giving him a conspiratorial look. “I’m glad we finally bullied Derek into bringing his oh-so-secret beau to meet us.” 

Derek just grins. “What can I say? I’m protective of my baby.” He reaches down and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. 

“Ignore this caveman,” Spencer laughs, and Derek is sure he rolls his eyes again. “I’ve been dying to meet you all, too.”

“Well, it’s our pleasure,” Alex says, coming up for her turn. “I’m Alex. Your paper ‘How Thinking Makes Us Write’ you published a couple of years ago is incredible; I used it in my Psychology of Writing class last year and only just realised it was written by Derek’s top-secret boyfriend! I’d love to talk to you more about that later.”

“That’s so cool, wow, yeah I’d love that.” He smiles at her, clearly feeling a little flattered by the immediate praise of his work. Derek thinks it’s the least he deserves.

“I’m Aaron, but everyone calls me Hotch,” Hotch says as he and Rossi step forward, a warm smile on his face. “Sorry to overwhelm you with all these introductions, but it’s lovely to meet you. It really is a shame Derek’s been so secretive.” 

Spencer smiles up at him. “Are we all going to dunk on Derek all night? Because if that’s the case, I’m glad I came,” he laughs, twisting around slightly to look at Derek. 

“Yeah, yeah, keep talking, pretty boy,” he says, raising a brow. “Two can play at that game.”

“You’re too whipped, I’m not worried,” Spencer dismisses him, before touching his hand lovingly, letting him know that he’s only teasing. 

“I don’t doubt it,” Rossi says. “I’m Dave, or Rossi, whichever you prefer. I actually own this house, despite being the last in line for a formal introduction. I’m sorry I didn’t greet you at the door, Penelope had been waiting on the stairs for half an hour so she could be the first to greet you.”

“That true, baby girl?” Derek chuckles, looking over at her. 

She doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed, but then Derek doesn’t know what else he expected. “This is on you,” she defends herself, “if you hadn’t waited so long to introduce me to baby genius here, I wouldn’t have been so desperate to meet him.” 

Spencer laughs at their interaction, turning his attention back to Rossi. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says. “Derek told me you were really accommodating, so thank you for that.”

He waves the thanks aside with a dismissive hand. “It’s nothing. Speaking of which, though, would you rather eat in your wheelchair or transfer to one of the dining chairs.”

Derek knows what’s about to happen even before he sees Spencer tense up. “Give us one second,” he says, wheeling him out into the hallway. Decisions are really hard for Spencer to make on bad days, especially those that pertain to his health or needs, and being under the eyes of so many people was not about to make that an easy interaction.

“Derek…” Spencer says anxiously, looking at him for help as he feels his mind spiral into fogginess at the question. 

“Okay, it’s okay, baby,” he says soothingly, crouching down in front of him to be at eye level. He takes his hand and kisses it gently. “Do your hips need a break from the chair or would it be more painful to transfer?” 

Phrasing questions like Rossi’s as directly applicable choices is always more digestible for Spencer and he sees him visibly relax at his words. “Hips need a break.”

“Great,” Derek says. “Do you want to go back in or do you need a minute to yourself?”

“No, I’m fine,” Spencer says, and he believes him. He instantly relaxed at having made a decision. “Let’s go back in.”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

They walk back into a room full of vibrant conversation and laughter. “Oh, Spencer, Spencer,” Emily says, immediately roping him back into the conversation without making a big deal of him having to leave the room, “we’re debating whether Derek’s really the slob Alex insists he is. You need to help us settle it.”

“I shared a room with him once, okay,” she says, “it was a state!”

“I don’t doubt it,” Spencer agrees. “At home, he’s so anal about ‘everything in it’s place’ and won’t even let a mug sit on the counter without being washed up. But whenever we go away, he can’t keep the place clean, it’s the weirdest thing. It’s like his suitcase vomits its contents all over the room.”

“Hey, I didn’t know this dinner was gonna be all about airing my dirty laundry,” Derek laughs.

“Literally,” JJ points out.

“Right,” Rossi says, interrupting the laughter filling the room. “Dinner is ready, so we should eat. Did you come to a decision about seating, Spencer?” Derek’s impressed at how much he knows about accommodating disabilities. He probably has someone close to him who’s been through something similar to Spencer.

“I’ll transfer,” he confirms.

“Great, we can just move your wheelchair to the hall once you’re settled so it’s not in the way, if that’s okay?”

At Spencer’s nod, they all file into the kitchen/dining area and choose their places. Penelope bags the seat to Spencer’s left, Derek sitting to his right, as the other girls sit opposite them. Hotch and Rossi sit at Derek's end of the table. He holds hands with Spencer under the table all through the delicious pasta primavera, helping to ground him, reminding him he’s right there. 

Conversation and laughter flows with the wine Rossi serves, and Derek doesn’t even mind his embarrassing stories being shared with the team, because it’s Spencer, and he’s so far gone for this man that he could slice him open and with his dying breath, Derek would thank him. 

“I love you, really,” Spencer grins up at him, after he’s just revealed his Nina Simone shower concerts to everyone sitting around the table, everyone cracking up as the tough exterior Derek’s built up at work over the years slowly disintegrates, his own boyfriend fuelling the fire. 

“And I love you, baby,” he says, leaning over to kiss him briefly, before pulling back. “Even when you spill my deepest darkest secrets.”

“Well, aren’t you two just the cutest,” Alex says fondly. “You’re a lucky man, Derek.”

“No, I’m the lucky one,” Spencer insists. “Do you know what he said when we first met? We were at the supermarket, and I was reaching for some baby carrots. He said ‘whoa, pretty boy, don’t get those ones. They go off far too quickly. Someone as beautiful as you deserves better than that’. No mention of the wheelchair or bags under my eyes. He didn’t see Disabled Spencer, he just saw Spencer. Asked for my number then and there.”

“You were irresistible,” Derek says fondly, brushing a thumb against his cheek. “I knew right at that moment I would spend the rest of my life with you.” 

“Stop,” Penelope begs, “my heart is literally a puddle on the floor. This world needs more Derek Morgans.”

“I’ll toast to that,” JJ says, her face just as soft as Penelope’s. 

“A real toast,” Hotch says, raising his glass with a happy smile on his face. Derek very rarely sees such a relaxed expression on his face, and as much as they have their disagreements, it’s a nice thing to see. “A toast to Derek and Spencer. May your happiness live long and be as contagious as it is tonight.”

Everyone toasts to his words, and Spencer buries his face in Derek’s shoulder, a little embarrassed at the attention. They sit around the table a little longer, but Spencer slowly sags against his body, finding it painful to keep himself upright. 

Noticing this, Penelope claps her hands. “Shall we move back to the living room? I bought chocolate and Rossi has wine.”

“This is true,” Rossi says as they all get up. He grabs Spencer’s wheelchair from the hall and Derek helps him back into it as they head back to the sofas.

“It’s weird using my chair inside,” Spencer laughs as Derek pulls him into his chest so he doesn’t have to keep himself steady upright, everyone else settling themselves around the room.

“Do you not need it often?” Hotch asks. 

“No, I need it quite a lot. I just don’t usually have to. Derek’s usually fairly insistent on carrying me around our apartment.”

“We’ll never live in a big house,” Derek says, chuckling along with anyone else. “I couldn’t haul this big lug around a Rossi mansion, now could I?”

“Hey!” Spencer smacks his side lightly. 

“You’re 6 foot tall, baby,” Derek defends himself. “You might be tiny but there’s still a lot of you.”

“Fair enough,” Spencer acquiesces, laying his head just under Derek’s chin. 

“Right,” Rossi says, coming back into the room, “I have more of your non-alcoholic wine, Spencer, and more of the real stuff for everyone else. Hand out the chocolates, Penelope, and we’ll have ourselves some satisfied guests.”

“I don’t live here, old man,” Penelope says, raising an eyebrow but getting up from her seat cuddled against Emily and JJ anyway. 

“Hey, you answered the door to pretty much everyone today; you’re co-hosting.”

“Can’t argue with that, Penelope,” Emily says drily, looking on amusedly as she huffs but hands out the chocolates anyway.

Derek discreetly pops two painkillers out in his pocket and hands it to Spencer, who swallows them down with a sip of his non-alcoholic wine, relaxing as they start to take effect. They all chat leisurely for a while, enjoying each other’s company in a non-pressured environment where they’re not surrounded by high profile cases and serial killers. 

Eventually, though, Spencer starts to fall asleep on his chest, clearly feeling relaxed enough in the warm room, pressed up against his boyfriend and surrounded by the reassuring conversation of people he trusts. As soon as Derek notices, though, he knows it’s time to get him home and into bed before any true crisis of pain or fatigue takes place. 

“I think we’ll need to get going, guys,” he says quietly, drawing everyone’s attention to Spencer’s dozing form. He watches as their faces soften and conversation quietens, everyone clearly enamoured with his boyfriend. It occurs to him that he feels no jealousy, only pride that he gets to call this wonderful man his, that he’ll be going home with him tonight, tucking him into bed and cuddling him until he falls asleep. 

He shakes Spencer gently, and the others start to get up, tidying or just moving through to the kitchen so as not to embarrass him when he opens his eyes. “Sorry,” he murmurs sleepily, as he looks up at Derek. “I’m tired.”

“I know, baby,” he says softly, feeling so fond his heart could burst. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

Everyone’s sad to see him go, gathering at the front door to say their goodbyes. 

“You are invited to every BAU event from hereon in,” Penelope asserts confidently as she leans down for a gentle hug. She whispers, “you’re better company than Derek, anyway.”

“I heard that, Mama,” he says, poking her in the side.

“You were meant to,” she says, sending him a pointed look, before dropping the act and wrapping him in a hug as the others say goodbye to Spencer. 

“It was so nice to finally meet you, Spencer,” Hotch says warmly. “Derek had better not keep us from seeing anymore of you.”

“I’m not sure I could possibly get away with that anymore,” he sighs. “Guess I’ll have to share my baby with you assholes.”

Spencer rolls his eyes at that, stifling a yawn. “Come on, caveman,” he says, rolling his eyes again. “I need to get home.”

“Anything for you, my highness,” he chuckles, before lifting his chin with his knuckle and bending down to kiss him briefly. 

“Bye, lovebirds,” Emily calls as they make their way to their car.

“Drive safely,” JJ shouts, which makes Derek laugh fondly. He does love his team.

“See you on Monday,” he calls back as he helps Spencer into the passenger seat. They drive home in the comforting darkness of night, illuminated by the car and street lights of the city, and satisfaction pools in his stomach as he reflects on such a perfect evening as Spencer falls asleep against the passenger window. It really couldn’t have gone any better, and the relief he feels is staggering: the two most important facets of his life finally integrated after far too long.

While his whole life feels like it’s finally falling into place, all that really matters is that the man who is his entire world is happy, a small smile on his sleeping face as the shadows of the city brush their way over his cheekbones. He has to force his eyes back to the road, but he can’t resist the hand he slips into Spencer’s, or the smile that lights up his face as even in his sleep, Spencer’s fingers curl themselves around his.

Spencer's symptoms in this fic could fit any number of neurological conditions, but his unnamed condition was modelled on my own experience with fibromyalgia. I have a rather severe case, as would Spencer if he was diagnosed with this illness. The symptoms could also fit these conditions in one way or another: Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (M.E.), Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), Lupus, Rheumatoid Arthritis or Axial Spondyloarthritis, as well as others I'm sure I'm forgetting.

Everything about Spencer’s disability is true to the chronically ill/disabled experience as I know it, and to learn more please visit the end notes on AO3 where I explain in a little more detail some of the features of Spencer’s symptoms and condition.

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taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @hotchgans @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith

[1-800-seo]

1-800-SEO presents: — Where Is My Mind?

genre: dystopia/slight angst/escapism

pairing: Johnny Suh/Gender Neutral Reader

warnings: IV’s/needles, intravenous use of narcotics, bad coping mechanisms, alcohol use, depictions/descriptions of poverty to a degree, implied sexual activity, dreams

word count: 2506 words

in affiliation with: @127-mile ‘s

drive in fic collaboration

summary: Based in a future where your wildest dreams can be lived in for a few hours through intravenous methods, vices and virtues blur. Scraping by is all you can do, and escapism is all you live for. Maybe that will change when you meet him. (Loosely based on Inception.)

The familiar haze of mental fog clouds your mind, it coats the edges of your thoughts like a viscous syrup. You find yourself in a wheat field, the golden crops stretching for as far as the eye can see ahead of you. The swirling breeze passes over your hands and you feel it tickle, a sensation you’ve not felt in a long time. After taking a crisp piece of the surrounding plants into your hands, you feel each and every texture it offers with a fingertip. It’s not like you’ve ever touched real wheat before, you want to imprint it to memory. With the piece of crop still in your dominant hand, you turn your head, body following its arc too, and your eyes meet a cottage. The building just exudes a comforting energy, it's homely even when your real home is nothing alike. The trees that are positioned off to the side of the cottage provide the right amount of shade, one side of the house has full direct sunlight and the other is gently shaded, but in a comforting way. You drop the wheat and make your way over to the cottage. As you make your way up to the front door, following the perfectly placed path, you take in the smell of the decorative flowers that adorn the surrounding gardens. The smell of real flowers is something you’re not used to. Finally upon reaching the door, you outstretch your hand to grasp the door handle. The moment your skin makes contact with the sun-heated metal, a blinding hot white shoots across your vision, and pulls you out.

Waking up is never easy, but it’s not like you’re not used to it. The moment you open your eyes you are met with the same dingy apartment as almost every other wake up. Your arms feel weak from lack of circulation as you reach across to pull out your IV. It doesn’t sting, you’ve done this so many times, it’d be surprising if it did. As your eyes adjust to the light you start to make out the time, it’s displayed on the heads up view of your plexi-wall, and reads 11:36PM. Stars, it’d been 7 hours since you last ate, and your body is definitely letting you know as it starts to wake up from its lulled state. You shift your wobbly legs away from the crusty office chair you were sitting on and begin to make your way over to the food dispensary. You hold your palm over the sensor as a silver sachet slides out and into your palm. You make quick work of depositing its contents into a bowl and mixing it with hot water, your hunger spurring you to be swifter.

Before you know it, all of the food has been devoured, your stomach full, and the night is ready to be conquered. You have no desire to leave the flat, nothing calling you besides money to leave the (lack of) comfort of your home. But of course, money always beats out desire, and so you hastily put on your shoes and proofed jacket, grab your safety umbrella and backpack, and leave. Things had to be paid for, and your credits were seriously running low, if you wanted to continue with your expensive hobby, it meant scrounging. You’re not dumb, you knew that daydreaming wasn’t a cheap, safe, respectable, or even remotely healthy hobby to have, but at this point it was escapism, freedom from pain, and so you’d do anything for that sweet peace.

Once you’re at street level, you put up your umbrella. At this point it’s better to be safe than sorry, the acid rain warning that you saw on your dash ringing out in your memory. It never used to be like this, acid rain was once unheard of, but in the last ten years pollution came to the point that even the water cycle couldn’t be trusted. That’s the joys of living in urban scum, you think to yourself. Your ears register the faint sounds of sizzling rain droplets on your umbrella and you're grateful for it now. Your pace quickens, and after a blur of around 20 minutes walk, you arrive at your workplace.

Workplace was definitely too light of a word to call the building that stands before you. The imposing structure juts out into the dark with brightly coloured lights on its each corner, signalling its presence, as if it was easy to miss without the lights. The commonplace sound of thumping bass echoes about the street for meters, and it only gets louder as you walk up the stairs and into the building. A sign reading ‘Sondaero LivingSpaces’ greets you, but you know full well the people here are barely living. Oh no, this type of place is home to some of the most prolific daydreamers; well, the most prolific for the underground scene. You step through a set of large doors and out into the main courtyard. It’s an indoor park, filled with neon bioluminescent plants, and jarringly placed speakers. If this was any other establishment, the sea of ravers surrounded by people daydreaming on cot beds would be jarring to you, but you’re so used to it that you couldn’t care less; or more so, you’re plainly desensitised to it.

You find your way out onto the dancefloor and surround yourself with people - the more people the better, it just makes your job easier. Safely hidden in the palm of your hand is a biometric chip you crafted yourself. Implants are a little drastic in your opinion, especially when cosmetic, but this was a necessary thing to you considering it earnt you money. The function of the chip worked like this: every person is assigned biometric numerical values by the government of their country, this is to make controlling their finances easier without having a physical device like a debit card or a mobile phone. Instead each user is assigned these numerical values based on their facial bone structure, and the chip's job was to scan this using minute sensors. All you had to do was simply wave your hand in the direct vicinity of their face, and await results - those results being the chip draining their bank account of credit and depositing it into yours. The waving part is complicated in normal use, but when at a club, where wild dancing is the norm, it makes hand movements so much less conspicuous. As you imagine the small amounts of money gradually making its way into your account a man approaches you to your side.

The guy has long-ish dark brown hair, with eyes of the same colour and a tall stature. He begins dancing near you, slowly moving closer and closer towards your vicinity. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to this man, he was objectively good looking, and the smirk he was wearing on his face was hard to ignore. Before you know it, he’s leaning in your ear and shout-whispering: “hey, do you wanna get a drink with me, angel?” The confidence in him to skip all normal greetings is astounding to you, but in some ways that makes him even more attractive to you, so you whisper-shout back “yeah!” and lead him over to the bar by the elbow.

After you have a few drinks in you, dancing becomes thoughtless, and swaying and grinding on the nameless man is even easier. “Yo, what’s your name?” You ask over the pulsing beat. His response is a finger trailing up your spine with the words ‘Johnny’ leaving his lips. Maybe those disquieting thoughts aren’t only silenced by daydreaming, maybe this could be another outlet. That thought curls in your mind, the wispy tendrils of a coherent thought fading like a misty night.

A few more drinks in your systems leads you to going home with the man, but your memories fade away as the night (or should you say early morning?) carries on. It passes by in a blur and the next thing you know you’re being startled awake by a cat sitting on your chest, with an unearthly headache.

Once you finally manage to extricate yourself from the cat’s grasps, you sit up and immediately notice the sleeping form of Johnny next to you on the tatami, his chest rising and falling with each breath. As quietly as you can, you tiptoe up off the tatami floor, acknowledge the ache throughout your entire body and move towards his kitchenette for a glass of water. Unbeknownst to you, Johnny apparently has a rudely noisy water purifying outlet attached to his faucet, and it decides to make itself known the moment you hover your palm over the on sensor. Johnny quickly stirs awake at the noise, and he sleepily opens his eyes in your direction.

“Wha-what’s going on?” He asks, squinting as his dark eyes adjust to the light. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was just trying to get some water.” You respond, tottering back over to the tatami, glass of water in hand. “Um, I’m sorry, I don’t really remember much of last night, did we uh- what did we do?” You’re aware your question was haphazard, but the incessant hangover looming in your head has your thoughts less than clear.

“If you are wondering if we had sex, the answer is yes, but the only thing I remember is waking up covered in… unsavoury stuff...so that certainly was a way of knowing how. I also know that apparently at some part of the night we decided to dream ‘cause I had to tidy up the gear earlier, but to put any worries at bay, I’m clean and vaccinated so...yeah.” He finishes the end of his sentence, trailing off. Well, at least the mystery man is somewhat of a gentleman, and he’s not gonna give you anything nasty which is always a good thing. You realise his late night cleaning must’ve turned to yourself at some point considering you are somewhat dressed and clean, but you can’t find it in you to care, you’d come to this shameful point so what did a bit of aftercare matter.

“Oh ok, and thanks for letting me know. I’m clean and fully vaccinated too.” You respond, unsure how to act around him. Perhaps he feels your apprehension, and in answer he pats a spot on the tatami next to him, just away from his cat too. You make your way over to the spot, feet padding on the floor as you go. “Your cat’s cute, they decided to sit on my chest this morning. Despite knocking the breath out of me, they’re pretty charming.” Johnny’s eyes widen at this knowledge before throwing his head back and letting out a hearty laugh. It’s somewhat comforting to hear such a genuine laugh; it takes your mind off the world of insincerity around you.

“I apologise for Ten, he gets cuddly in the mornings.” Johnny picks up his cat to give you more space, Ten’s legs sprawling wide in the air before being put down to safety.

There’s something so warm and familiar about Johnny’s presence, it has you naturally leaning into him, and his arm comes to rest around your shoulders as your head gently leans on his chest. The feeling is just so warm and despite knowing you don’t know him well, it almost feels like you do. It feels like a lover long lost, and now he has returned a warm feeling spreads throughout your chest. It’s almost inexplicable, and if you were to try to justify it to anyone other than yourself, a wave of embarrassment would certainly wash over you.

Looking down at you, he meets your eyes, and they seem somewhat fond; not what you were expecting to see. “Do you fancy dreamin’?” He asks, still maintaining eye contact? “Hmm, sure, hopefully I’ll remember it this time.” You reply with a smile and he reciprocates.

Before you even open your eyes you’re met with the sensation of skin on skin. Beneath your fingertips you feel, what you suppose is a firm chest, and when you open your eyes your suspicions are confirmed. Your hands are resting on Johnny’s taut chest, and of course this is what an unscripted dream with the two of you looks like. You feel that you are naked too, and his hands rest gently around your waist, a relaxing gentle weight reassuring you he’s still there. You meet each other’s eyes and the tension is palpable in the air. He dips his head down and kisses you, lips melting together with ease. His hands move from their placing and trail down to cup the small of your back, your bodies meeting infinitely closer.

The two of you move together like jigsaw pieces slotting into place, there’s no conscious thoughts, only the two of you existing in this dream space. Part of you can feel Johnny’s thoughts swirling as you share the hazy unstructured scape. There’s hints of lust mixed with a sleepy mindset, probably left over from waking up moments ago in the real world. He’s set on being a lazy lover right now, selfishly devouring you with no haste in any of his actions, just taking these moments for himself. He can feel your thoughts just as much as you can feel his, he knows you’re feeling relaxed with him and he’s pleased at that, he knows how good you feel right now and he’s proud. He wants to use all of this time to make you feel good. You’re both in agreement that losing yourself in each other is ever so easy, and so you both fall into the other's grasps.

The second time you wake up, Ten is resting on your feet, warming them from the slight chill of the room. Johnny had roused quicker than you, and he’d already removed the IV from your arm. You spot him winding up the fluid bags and putting them into the insulated case they reside in. “How are you feeling?” He asks whilst disposing of the needles in the marked sharps box. “Good, lighter than usual. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, albeit mostly imaginary.”

The floaty feeling remains in the forefront of your consciousness. Despite feeling lighter, less burdened, you’re aware that you need to change your vices. Constantly daydreaming, forming relationships through them, isn’t healthy. Continuous escapism isn’t a way to live; numbing yourself over and over again won’t solve anything. With a new fervor to gain meaning in your life, you rise from your place on the tatami. “What are your plans for today, John?” You ask, perhaps vices and meaning aren’t that different from each other.

long time no see! this is my penultimate fic :(( hopefully u guys enjoyed it! I know it’s not like my usual style and is somewhat offbeat but I hope it makes sense hehe <3

[thatgamefromthatad]

Tumblr Ads Decoded

I had a good Christmas but now that the festivities have died down I felt like effing around and going down some more ad-related rabbit holes. I usually focus on mobile game ads but while I’m working on my mobile game review backlog I have some explanations of other bizarre Tumblr ads I’ve come across in my travels. Enjoy:

Note: These are all ads I saw in screenshots from other users so I haven’t clicked on any of these ads myself and can only go from what’s included in the screenshots. I can’t guarantee where these ads actually lead if you click on them. 

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This ad apparently comes from SoGoodly, a website that compiles various viral stories, clickbait and listicles including “life hacks.” There doesn’t actually seem to be any tips specifically about putting vinegar-soaked bread in the garbage on their website. 

However, the image from the ad comes from a video by Household Hacker on YouTube called “10 Awesome Vinegar Life Hacks you should know,” which explains that leaving vinegar-soaked bread in your garbage can overnight can eliminate lingering odors (don’t know if that’s true or not but that’s what Household Hacker said in their video, which was posted in 2013, and has nearly 24 million views). 

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Apparently another site called Gloriousa, similar to SoGoodly in its clickbaity-ness, has also been promoting a similar ad that advises leaving a vinegar-soaked piece of bread in the garage, which links to a 92-page list of “life hacks” that doesn’t even include this particular tip, according to Snopes.

Conclusion: This is clickbait, likely with the goal of generating ad revenue.

What does it mean?: Leaving vinegar-soaked bread in your garbage can overnight can allegedly eliminate lingering odors.

Another one from SoGoodly. Photo comes from a Good Housekeeping article from 2014 titled “16 Smart Ways to Use Rubber Bands” and says putting a rubber band around the doorknob makes it easier to open doors in specific situations such as when unloading groceries or trying to open doors at night without waking up anyone in your household. Not sure if this tip actually appears on SoGoodly’s website because it doesn’t feel worth it to click through several ad-filled pages just to find out, but a few long listicles came up when I searched “rubber band.” 

Conclusion: This is clickbait, likely with the goal of generating ad revenue. 

What does it mean?: Putting a rubber band around a doorknob like this apparently makes it easier to open the door hands-free and quietly. 

SoGoodly strikes again. The source of this photograph is the July 2012 issue of the TOILETPAPER art photography magazine - you can actually buy a reproduction of this bitten soap from them too (WARNING: bright colors and flashing/moving images on their website) link to magazine issue/link to soap merch

Again, not going to struggle through thousands of pages of ads to find this so-called “life hack” on SoGoodly but according to another health-themed listicle/”life hack” website called The Healthy, sleeping with soap can provide magnesium which relieves leg cramping/restless legs at night. Apparently Dr. Oz also said sleeping with lavender soap can help you relax at night, according to The Healthy. Don’t know if any of that is true but that’s what the “life hack” claim is. 

Conclusion: This is clickbait, likely with the goal of generating ad revenue. 

What does it mean?: Sleeping with a bar of soap in bed can allegedly relieve nocturnal leg cramps and help you feel more relaxed, presumably through some sort of aromatherapy effect. 

This ad apparently comes from Game of Glam, another very clickbaity website mostly focused on celebrity news, which hasn’t been updated since September. Couldn’t find this article on their site but there’s an article called “Celebrities Who Died and You Didn’t Even Notice” on a website called BeliefNet, which appears to have religious themes and mostly posts listicles. However, there aren’t 22 celebrities on that list and the man in the photo is not one of the celebrities mentioned. Also, the man in the photo isn’t dead.

The man shown here is actor Shemar Moore (left), best known for playing Derek Morgan on “Criminal Minds” and Malcolm Winters on “The Young and the Restless” from 1994 to 2005 (before Darius McCrary took over the role). He is still alive.

I had never seen either show so I did a reverse image search and initially thought the man was Kristoff St. John, who played Moore’s on-screen brother Neil Winters, due to the fact that this photo was on a Pinterest board titled “Young & Restless - Winters Family” and St. John did in fact die in 2019. However, I later realized that it is actually the woman in the photo, actress Michelle Thomas, who sadly died from a rare form of cancer in 1998 at age 30. Michelle Thomas played Callie Rogers, Malcolm Winters’ ex-fiancée, until her death, when the role was recast with Siena Goines. Thomas is better known for her roles as Justine Phillips on “The Cosby Show” and Myra Monkhouse on “Family Matters.”

Conclusion: This is clickbait, likely with the goal of generating ad revenue. 

What does it mean?: The man in the photo is actor Shemar Moore, who is still alive, but the woman in the photo, actress Michelle Thomas, died in 1998. The use of he/him pronouns in the ad is deceptive.

I’m sorry but I searched and searched and searched for meaning in this one and came up with nothing, absolutely zilch, no clues, no leads except one person who said the link led to the Chinese search engine Baidu. I was able to find the source of the image - it’s a Backyard Discovery Timber Cove Swing Set, which you can buy for $1,798 at Sam’s Club. I also found an uncropped version of the photo, but that’s all. This one is truly a mystery. 

Conclusion: Some mysteries are better left unsolved. 

What does it mean?: Only God Himself will ever know. 

Please let me know if you read and enjoyed this and if there are any other Tumblr ads or general internet mysteries I should look into. :) Thank you!