#Is all of this anecdotal? Yep!

[oneforthemunny]

how you like them apples |cowboy!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: you surprise eddie with his favorite fall treat, and, oh, is he surprised.

since i'm feeling so fall, i decided to write a ficlet around my love cowboy!eddie. also follows the lore that sweet girl is not the best cook lmao. super fluffy. genuinely nothing but the sweetest fluff and love.

Your head turned at the rumble of the truck, moving slowly down the gravel driveway towards the house. Eddie always drove much slower than you, always on to you about speeding down the gravel, flinging it everywhere. 

The red truck’s bed was filled with lumber, left over from the recent renovations the Ives’ family had done to their new fence, just up the road- well, that’s what Eddie always said, it was more like a good ten miles away. Irvine Ives had called Eddie up last night, asked him if he wanted it before he took it to the junkyard. He knew Eddie was repairing a patch in the fence a Bronco he was training had kicked out. 

“Back so soon?” You grinned, pressing a hand over your brows to shield you from the September sun. Not as bright as it was in June, but still unforgiving in the middle of the day. 

“Yep, wasn’t much, but I think I got what I needed.” Eddie hummed, turning the key and killing the ignition, cigarette still lit between his fingers. “Think I got enough to patch it though. Just gonna need to repaint it since it’s not the same kinda wood.” 

Your brows raised, walking over towards the driver’s side, leaning in towards the window. “I can help you with that.” You hummed, breathing in the cloud of smoke he exhaled with a content sigh. “I love to paint.” 

Eddie grinned back at you, a soft crease in his dimples that made your body buzz with excitement. “Yeah? We can go to town tomorrow if I get this done. Pick out a color.” 

“That sounds like fun.” You beam. “I was going to say we need to go to the grocery anyways, so that works out.” You hum, a large brown bag catching your attention, nestled beside Eddie in the passenger seat. 

“What’s that?” You ask, leaning on the door to see. “Apples?” 

“Yeah, Mrs. Ives insisted I take a few. Said their trees were overflowin’ with ‘em.” Eddie nodded towards the bag, lightly tapping your hand to move, opening the truck’s door. “Figure I’d give a few to Medusa. Try to do something with the rest, maybe.” 

You nodded slowly, wheels in your mind already spinning with an idea. Eddie handed you the apples, cradling the bottom until you got your grip on the heavy bag. “‘M gonna go start on this. Try to get it done today.” 

“Ok,” You hummed, hugging the apples to your chest. “Have fun, baby.” 

Eddie snorted in laughter, head ducking down, stealing a quick kiss from you. “I shouldn’t be too long.” He looked back at you, eyes narrowing in suspicion as you simply nodded, pulling the screen door open and slipping in the kitchen. 

Normally, you’d offer to come help him, sit with him and talk about nothing in particular, and hand him the tools while he worked. Not this time. You didn’t seem mad, or upset- really, you seemed perfectly happy. Which left him a little suspicious. 

The clanging of a large, steel pot falling on the floor soothed his worries, left him grinning to himself in humor as he started off to the barn. 

“Sift? What does- like move it around?” You muttered, brows pinched in concentration that was teetering on annoyance. Your eyes squinted in concentration, trying to decipher the loopy, old school cursive on the faded, yellowed recipe card in front of you. 

The first time you found the recipe box, it was buried under piles of other things, lost in the mess that was Eddie’s bachelor pad before you moved in- really, before you were in his life. His Mamaw Munson’s recipes, all her best dishes, all in one tin box. He sat in the kitchen with you between his legs, he’d poured over each one, told you which ones were his favorite, sometimes even added a little anecdote that had you beaming with joy. 

“Oh, this one was one of my favorites, baby,” Eddie had said, eyes lighting as they scanned over the card. 

“Apple Cobbler. She’d bake it in this cast iron skillet so it’d stay hot, and we’d put vanilla ice cream over it- holy shit, it was so good.” Eddie swallowed his drool, he could practically taste it still. “She used to have an apple tree before it got blown away by this bad tornado one year. But she’d go and pick them every fall when they were ripe, and she’d always make it for us. It was my favorite thing.” 

Looking at the recipe in front of you, you could see why Eddie loved it so much. It did sound really good. 

It was just very complicated. 

“Take your peeled- shit,” You looked at the sliced apples, still with the skin on, in the bowl in front of you. “Why wouldn’t you say that before I added the other stuff, Mamaw?” You huffed, pulling the drawer open for the whittling knife. 

The kitchen was a disaster, sticky and flour filled, bowls piling high in the sink; and you hadn’t even gotten halfway through the recipe. Grabbing a handful of the butter and sugar rolled apples, you placed them on the counter’s free space, carefully carving around the edge where the skin was. 

This isn’t too bad, not taking as long as I thought it would, You thought to yourself, finally in a grove of cutting around the skin, tossing the apple back in the mixture. 

A smoky, sugary, thick smell alerted your senses on your last few apples. Turning, you saw the filling that was supposed to be simmering, now bubbling with thick, burnt globs in the pot. You grabbed the handle with a panic, shoving it to the free stove eye, turning the hot one off. 

The mixture, which was supposed to be a light caramel brown, was a deep dark molasses shade. You lifted the whisk, cringing at the toughness of the gooey substance. “It’s ok,” You shook your head lightly, looking at the clock. “That’s- whatever. It’ll bake and soften in the oven.” 

Pulling out the pan, you shoved the now skinless apples to the bottom, scraping the hardened filling mixture on top. The wooden spoon nearly broke trying to mix it in, sticking out of the cemented filling. 

You could see Eddie through the small window over the sink, down to the last stake in the fence, already beginning the wiring. He’d be done soon, this had to cook for forty-five minutes, and the kitchen was a disaster. 

“It’s fine, it’ll be fine.” You muttered to yourself, pouring the batter on top, not bothering to smooth it out like the instructions said- there was no time for that Mamaw. Instead, you slid it in the oven, turning the timer. 

Eddie came in just as you’d finished putting your last dish away. Your body surged with excited heat, smug that you might actually get away with your little surprise- well, as long as he didn’t go to the back porch, where the burnt filling was in the pan, cemented in. 

“Mm,” Eddie sniffed the air, sugary and a little… smoky? “Smells good in here, baby.” He gave you a dazzling smile, hoping you wouldn’t pick up the hesitancy in his tone. 

It was no secret that you weren’t exactly the best cook. Not that Eddie cared, but after you almost burnt the house down making lasagna, he was a little weary when you’d cook. 

“Does it?” Your eyes lit up, filled with excitement that he wouldn’t dare take from you. Whatever you’d made, no matter how charred or inedible it was, he’d scarf it down with a grin if it’d make you happy. Even if it gave him food poisoning like the chicken ala king did. 

“Yeah, what’re you makin’?” Eddie reached for the oven’s handle. 

You pushed it closed with a click of your tongue, smacking his hands away. “Don’t.” You shook your head. “It’s a surprise.” 

And you were true to your word. It certainly was a surprise. 

When you placed the concoction in front of Eddie, grinning so big, so proudly, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but grin back. “Wow, you, uh, you made this for me, sweetheart?” He smiled, eyeing the plate in front of him. 

“Yes,” You giggled, topping the runny dough on top with a scoop of ice cream. “You said it was your favorite, and when you brought the apples home, I just thought I’d surprise you.” You chirped, sliding him a spoon. “I followed your Mamaw’s recipe.”

“You spoil me, sweet thing. You know that?” Eddie smiled, heart swelling at the sentiment. You really did spoil him, were too good and too sweet to him- even if you’re cooking wasn’t as good. 

“Try it.” You sat next to him, bursting with excitement. “I know it won’t be as good as hers, but I think I did a good job on it.” 

Eddie looked down at the plate, swallowing the dread building in his throat. He dug his spoon, sawing it through the thick middle until it finally came out in a clean cut. Taking a large scoop of ice cream, hoping it would mask the flavor, he took a bite. 

“Is it good?” You leaned forward, eyes rounded in hopefulness, scanning his features eagerly. 

Eddie hummed, his teeth cemented together from the filling, sure his crown might pop out from the material. The filling was tough, the dough undercooked and lacked something that made it rise, but the apples were delicious- just like his Mamaw’s except…

“Oh,” Eddie winced before he could help it, finger digging in his mouth. He pulled out the hard thing that was wedged in his molar, turning it with a brow raised. “Is that- is that a seed?” 

Your face fell, looking at the seed back at Eddie. “Well, yeah, from the apples.” You said, heart skinning in your chest. “I didn’t- it didn’t say to take them out or anything, so I just left them in.”

Eddie swallowed, stomach turning lightly at the bite. “No, it’s- I mean, it’s good, baby. Some people take them out, but- no, this is, it’s really good.” He nodded, smiling at you gently. “‘S really good.” 

“Really?” You squeaked. “Better than the muffins?” 

“Yes,” Eddie said truthfully, whole heartedly. That was the truth, this was so much better than the mess that was the blueberry muffins. “So much better. This is really good, sweetheart. You really surprised me. Too sweet of ya to do this.” 

You squealed, hugging him tightly, legs straddling his waist in the chair, lips pressing kisses over his cheeks, his chin, his lips. Eddie’s arms wrapped around you, squeezing you into him, playfully nipping at your jaw to hear you squeal, before his lips caught yours, pulling you into a heated kiss. He’d eat all your burnt cobblers if it meant you’d be happy like this, if it made you this happy. 

[pucksandpower]

Grid Kids: y/n pregnency!!

Grid Kids: Bun in the Oven

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: moments with the grid kids during your pregnancy

Series Masterlist

Kicking Up a Storm

“Did the little one just ...” Charles’ eyes widen as he pulls back his hand abruptly from where it had been resting on your stomach.

Lando, lounging on the other side of the room with a video game controller in hand, smirks, “Did what? Tried to escape? Can’t blame it, considering the rest of its siblings."

You swat playfully at Lando as Max and George, engrossed in assembling a nursery chair, look up in anticipation. “Come on, let us feel!” Max pleads, abandoning the chair pieces on the floor.

As everyone gathers around, taking turns to gently place their hands on your baby bump, you feel a flutter, a gentle kick responding to their touch. The room fills with gasps of wonder and joy.

“Feels like a future driver if you ask me,” George grins, looking at Sebastian, who chuckles, already imagining another Vettel on the tracks.

Lance, feeling a tad left out, decides to jump in. “Can it hear us? Hello in there, it’s your brother Lance! Remember to pick me as the fun brother, okay?”

Mick, who has been reading every pregnancy book he could get his hands on, chimes in, “You do realize the baby can’t differentiate voices yet, right?”

Lance waves him off, “Details, details.”

Cravings Are No Joke

“Pickles and chocolate? Seriously?” Max raises an eyebrow, holding up the two seemingly mismatched items as he stands in the middle of a grocery store aisle.

Lance, pushing the cart, shrugs. “Don’t question the cravings, just go with it.”

Charles, scrolling through the list on his phone, adds, “Oh and don’t forget the spicy ramen, blueberry pie, and ... pineapple pizza?”

George groans, “Pineapple pizza? Come on! Anything but that. I’m not even Italian and I’m still offended.”

Lando, with an impish grin, quips, “Remember when she wanted the mango gelato at 3 am? That was a fun drive.”

Mick chuckles, “Or the time we went to five different bakeries just to find that particular lemon cake she couldn’t live without.”

Lance pauses, looking thoughtful, “And wasn’t there a phase where she only wanted foods that were purple?”

George nods, “Yep, aubergines, purple potatoes, grapes ... I still can’t look at a plum without laughing.”

As the grid kids continue shopping, picking out items based on the rather diverse list you gave them, they share more anecdotes of the past months. The store’s other patrons watch in amusement as the young men navigate the aisles, often debating the merits of various brands or flavors, all to ensure they get it just right for you.

Later, back home, your grid kids proudly present their haul. You and Sebastian look on with affection as they lay out the eclectic mix of food.

“Did you guys get everything?” You ask, trying to hide your laughter.

Max feigns offense at being questioned, “Of course, we’re professionals.”

Sebastian leans in to whisper in your ear, “I’m just glad they didn’t try cooking this time. Remember the schnitzel incident?”

You giggle, recalling the disastrous attempt. “Of course I do. I was cleaning flour off the cabinets and ceiling for weeks. But hey, it’s the thought that counts.”

It’s a …

The preparations for your gender reveal are in full swing at the local park and your grid kids are at the heart of it. They’ve split into two factions: Team Girl, led by Charles and Lance, and Team Boy, spearheaded by Max and Lando.

Charles and Lance have laid out a series of pink challenges, including a three-legged race where participants wear pink tutus. “It’s going to be a girl, no doubt about it!” Lance proclaims confidently.

Max and Lando, on the other hand, have a blue-themed obstacle course, complete with a mini kart race. Lando, wearing a blue bandana, shouts over the ruckus, “I have no idea what you’re talking about because it’s definitely a boy.”

George has taken on the role of referee. Dressed in a striped shirt, whistle in hand, he’s ensuring that the competition remains friendly. “Remember, it’s all in good fun!” he reminds everyone, though his “Team Girl” badge suggests where his loyalties lie.

Mick, though undecided, has tie-dye patches of both blue and pink on his shirt. “I just want a healthy sibling for all of us,” he says with a gentle smile, standing back and enjoying the antics.

Sebastian, watching the chaos unfold, leans over and whispers in your ear, “Did we really think letting them plan this was a good idea?”

You laugh, “It’s a bit crazy but look at them. They’re having the time of their lives!”

The moment everyone’s been waiting for finally arrives. At the center of the park, a large, sealed box waits. As you and Sebastian approach, the grid kids form a circle around it, their playful banter coming to a halt.

With a shared look of excitement, you both pull on the ribbon. The box flaps open, releasing a cloud of ... green smoke?

The park erupts in a mixture of laughter and confusion.

Max looks baffled, “Green?”

Charles chuckles, “Guess neither team wins today!”

Lando, trying to waft away the smoke, jokes, “Alien? Oh my god, you’re having an alien!”

Mick wraps an arm around you, “Like I said, as long as it’s healthy.”

You smile, nestling into Sebastian’s side, “We thought we’d keep everyone guessing for a little longer.”

False Alarm

“Sebastian! The baby! I think it’s happening!” You exclaim, feeling a sudden tightening in your abdomen.

Sebastian, who was in the middle of mediating a lively debate with Max and Charles over who will be the baby’s favorite brother, nearly trips over the rug in his rush to get to you. “Okay, okay, okay. Deep breaths, in and out.”

Lance, eyes wide as saucers, frantically begins googling “how to deliver a baby” on his phone while George starts making a list of things needed for the hospital. “Towels! We need towels, right?”

Lando is somewhere on another planet, muttering to himself, “This isn’t happening. I am not ready to see a baby being born. Nope, nope, nope.”

Mick tries to restore some order. “Calm down everyone. Y/N, are you sure it’s really labor?"

Before you can respond, Charles bursts through the door, holding a bucket of ice. “I read somewhere you might need ice. Here!”

You laugh through the discomfort, appreciating the chaos ensuing because of your grid kids’ concern. "Actually guys, I think it’s just Braxton Hicks. False alarm.”

A collective sigh of relief sweeps the room. Sebastian, still slightly pale, pulls you into a hug, “You sure know how to keep things exciting.”

Lance looks up from his phone, “What’s Braxton Hicks?”

“It’s like a rehearsal for the real thing,” George explains, folding up his hastily made list.

Max, trying to regain his cool, smirks, “Well, if that was a rehearsal, the main event is going to be epic.”

You chuckle, patting your belly, “Guess the little one just wanted to see how quickly you all could jump into action.”

Putting the “Student” in “Student Drivers”

As you and Sebastian sit on the couch, going over your prenatal class schedule, a curious George peeks over. “What’s that? Are those the birthing classes?”

You nod, “Yep! We’re starting next week. It’ll help us prepare for the big day.”

Suddenly, Charles pops up beside George, eyes widening in interest. “Can we come?”

“That sounds cool! I’ve always wondered what those classes are like.” Lando chimes in from where he’s keeping an ear out in the kitchen.

Sebastian looks a bit overwhelmed, “I thought it was just going to be the two of us.”

Lance joins the group, scrolling through a magazine article about celebrity dads attending birthing classes. “Look at this! It’s a thing now. We could all go and support you both.”

Max adds, “Besides, we’re family. We’ve been there through everything else. Why not this?”

“Do they even allow so many people to join?” Mick ponders.

You can’t help but laugh at the eager faces in front of you. “I never thought I’d have to bring an entourage to a birthing class.”

Sebastian rubs his temples. “Okay, how about this? We’ll ask the instructor if it’s okay. If they allow it, you guys can join on one condition.”

Lando bounces on his toes, “What’s that?”

“No teasing or making jokes during the class. We’re there to learn and be supportive.”

Charles nudges Max, “That’s mainly directed at you.”

Max fakes innocence. “Me? I would never!”

You shake your head, “Alright, I’ll call tomorrow and see if our little ... or rather large group can attend.”

Your grid kids cheer, excited about the new adventure. As they scatter, already planning and discussing among themselves, Sebastian leans over to whisper in your ear, “This baby is already turning our world upside down and they’re not even here yet.”

You smile and squeeze his hand, “With this family, every moment is an adventure.”

***

The birthing center’s usual tranquil ambiance is slightly offset by the excited chatter of the grid kids as you all enter. The instructor, a calm and composed woman named Clara, raises an eyebrow at the large group but doesn’t comment. After all, it’s not every day that half of the Formula 1 grid walks into her class.

The session starts with everyone introducing themselves. Most couples share sweet stories of their relationship journey. When it's your turn, Sebastian starts, “I’m Sebastian, this is my wife, Y/N,” he pauses, motioning to the group, “and these are ... our sons.”

The room erupts in chuckles. One of the expectant mothers quips, “That’s a lot of kids! You two have been busy!”

Clara moves on with the class, demonstrating breathing techniques. Everyone’s earnest attempt to follow along results in a mix of deep breathing, snorts, and a few stifled laughs. At one point, Max, struggling to get the rhythm right, looks over at Lando and mutters, “I feel like I’m preparing to go underwater.”

When it comes time for practicing labor positions, the grid kids enthusiastically volunteer. George and Charles end up demonstrating a position, with George playing the supporting partner and Charles the laboring mom-to-be. The sight of Charles leaning into George, pretending to be in labor, has the room laughing, especially when Charles exaggerates with dramatic moans.

Lance and Mick take a turn next and when Lance offers words of encouragement to “pregnant” Mick, saying, “You’re doing great, sweetie,” you almost fall off your chair laughing.

Towards the end of the class, Clara demonstrates the use of a birthing ball. Lando decides to take a leap onto one only to bounce off, crashing into Max and sending both of them tumbling to the ground. The room is in stitches.

Despite their hilarious antics, your grid kids genuinely try to grasp the concepts, asking thoughtful questions and engaging in the exercises.

As the class wraps up, Clara approaches you with a smile. “I must say, this has been the most ... lively class I’ve ever taught.”

You grin, “That’s one way to put it.”

She chuckles, “But it’s clear they all care deeply for you and want to support you both in any way they can.”

Sebastian nods, wrapping an arm around you, “We’re very lucky to have them.”

For Real This Time

Lando and Charles are in the middle of a heated argument over the best way to make a sandwich (complete with props and charts) when you suddenly feel a warm sensation. Looking down, your eyes widen. “Uh, guys?”

“What is it?” Sebastian jumps up right away.

You swallow, “I think my water just broke.”

For a moment, there’s stunned silence. Then … mayhem.

Max yells, “To the car! Now!” while Lance scrambles to grab the pre-packed hospital bag.

George accidentally knocks over a vase in his attempt to find your phone. “Sorry! We can clean that up later, right?”

Mick tries to maintain calm, “Everyone, deep breaths, remember the class?”

Lando, eyes wide, mutters, “This is nothing like the class.”

Upon arriving at the hospital, the reception area becomes a scene of organized chaos. As Sebastian wheels you in, the grid kids follow in a flustered procession.

A nurse at the reception desk blinks in surprise. “Is there a convention in town?”

Mick, panting slightly, replies, “No, just family.”

Lando adds, “The biggest family you’ve ever seen.”

Another nurse, recognizing some of the faces, chuckles, “Formula 1 drivers in the maternity ward? Now I’ve seen everything.”

Inside, as the medical team preps you, the grid kids stand outside, pacing and nervously waiting. They take turns peeking through the small window, offering waves and thumbs-up.

Sebastian holds your hand and doesn’t complain once as you grab back hard enough to break every bone in it, “You know, I’ve faced pressure on the track but this ... this is on another level.”

You chuckle, squeezing his hand, “Just remember, I’m doing the hard part.”

Soon enough, after what feels like both a minute and a lifetime, the beautiful cry of your newborn fills the room. Your grid kids, hearing the sound, cheer loudly, causing several nurses to hush them.

Charles, tears in his eyes, says, “We’re big brothers now. Like, for real.”

“Wait,” Lando interjects, “aren’t you already a big brother?”

“Shush mate, let me have this moment.”

Max rolls his eyes but smiles, “Welcome to the family, little one. We’re a bit crazy but we already love you so much.”

[souriru]

you wanted reqs? you're getting them.

secretly getting a Leona themed phonecase and waiting how long it takes him to notice w/ gender neutral reader

all i want is you(r merchandise)

when you first snuck out the hotel to look for cool merch, you didn't really expect to find knock-off but still good quality merchandise of your boyfriend in a short alleyway close to the main markets. "is this... merch of the second prince?" you'd asked somewhat dubiously with a little shock. when the 'merchant' responded enthusiastically, launching into a short anecdote of how the few policies leona was able to implement had helped her, your heart soared, and you offered to buy a phonecase off of her.

but now that you had it, the big question popped up in your head- how were you going to hide this from leona? given his abilities to read the changes in moods and situations, you weren't going to be able to hide- wait a damn minute. what if you never hid it at all? a smile that could only be called wicked appears on your face as you make your way to the fancy hotel under the royal family, and that's when your plan (conccocted within the span of time it took you to get back to your room) started with full effect.

heading to the dining area with kalim, who was telling you a random story about him and jamil visiting the sunset savannah a very long time ago, you greet leona with a raised hand, showing him the cover as you normally would, and with a roll of his eyes, leona waves you and kalim over to the table. "you took forever, herbivore," he complains as you pat his head in apology.

"yep, i went exploring for a bit, showered, and bumped into kalim who was already heading over here. fun story though, kalim. i hope you apologised to jamil for that." kalim nods affirmitively as you sigh pitifully, placing the phone downwards on the table as jack chokes and vil visibly swallows a cough.

leona ignores the choking and coughing, shifting the vegetables on his plate ruefully. "anyway, tomorrow's match is a crucial one, so i need you all to focus. [name], don't annoy anyone." you scoff, before snaking your hand with leona's. "of course i won't. i'll just annoy you." leona rolls his eyes at that comment, but doesn't bother removing his hand from your's. and yet somehow, the phone cover still goes ignored the entire night.

this is actually much longer but i got tired of ruminating like share and subscribe for a part 2 maybe || 388 words

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Ortho Shroud - Platinum Gear Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Ortho: So, this is the Land of Dawning's National Museum of Art… It really has such a large and diverse collection of various genres of artwork. This is essentially a database of art.

Ortho: According to the map I installed, this exhibit should hold the painting I'm looking for…

???: An enormous dog with three heads and sharp fangs… A frightening creature, indeed. I would have loved to have seen it personally.

Ortho: Hello, Jade Leech-san. I was just here to check out the Cerberus painting, too.

Jade: Is that so? As a creature that served the Lord of the Underworld, the Cerberus truly did have a powerful aura about it.

Jade: I'm sure with all 6 of those eyes keenly trained on the entrance to the underworld, it would have been a difficult endeavor indeed to attempt an escape.

Ortho: They're really cool, don't you think?

Ortho: But, according to lore, if they got tempted by their favorite sweets, they would end up lowering their vigilance.

Jade: Fufu, I see. So, perhaps it was a more charming creature than it looked… Would you agree?

Ortho: Yep. Also, they had one body, right, so each of the three heads ate a smaller amount of food…

Ortho: And they'd get in fights whenever they wanted to go in different directions… There's so many other cool stories about them, too.

Jade: You're very well-informed. Is this something that all Ignihyde students must know?

Ortho: Mmm, I'm not sure. I probably just know a lot since I really liked the stories in which the Cerberus would show up, and I'd read them all the time.

Ortho: Back when I was a kid, me and my brother would read picture books on the legends of the Lord of the Underworld, see…

Ortho: And even after coming to Sage's Island, whenever I learned of a new tale involving Cerberus, I'd update my database.

Jade: I see, so that's how… Well, I appreciate having been able to hear some unexpected anecdotes.

Ortho: Most would say that they look ferocious, or seem really strong, but the more you get to know them, the more cute you'll find them.

Ortho: Since Cerberus is considered a dog-like monster, I've also been collecting data on regular dog behaviors too.

Ortho: Recently, I've gotten to pet some dogs out for a walk down in Whistle Park. Of course, I ask their owners for permission, first.

Jade: A real dog… That's astounding. As I do not have much experience with them, I'm afraid I'm a tad hesitant to actually touch them, myself.

Ortho: I was a bit hesitant too, at first. I didn't really know how much strength I should put into touching a living creature…

Ortho: And since I'm a technomantic humanoid and smell different than humans, they'd be super wary of me.

Jade: Ah, that makes sense. They do have a powerful sense of smell.

Jade: So then, how is it that you've become able to interact with those dogs, Ortho-kun?

Ortho: I just would strike up a conversation with them on a regular basis and slowly built trust.

Jade: That is astounding. This is the first I've heard that you are well-versed in animal linguistics.

Ortho: I'd always had an app installed that'd let me talk with animals, but…

Ortho: Once I became a student at Night Raven College, I actually developed an animal linguistics translation tool.

Ortho: By talking to the animals first hand, I was able to improve the translations that seems a bit strange…

Ortho: Not only has was I able to improve the translation accuracy, but now I've gotten close with a bunch of dogs that they'll actually come up to me themselves once they catch sight of me!

Jade: So, in addition to achieving your goal of petting dogs, you were able to update your own translation tool… Absolutely fantastic.

Ortho: Heheh! Thanks, Jade Leech-san.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Ortho: This is a painting depicting one of the scenes from the Mermaid Princess's legend, isn't it? That's the Sea King riding that sleigh, right?

Jade: That's right, and what a dignified and gallant figure he is. What a shame he was unaware that the princess would be absent for the concert.

Ortho: He got really mad the moment he learned that the princess was going to be absent for her own debut… or so the story goes.

Ortho: I feel bad for the king, that she slipped out without telling him. But it's pretty cool that he gets to ride that dolphin-led sleigh.

Jade: Did that dolphin-led sleigh catch your eye? Then please, you must visit the Coral Sea.

Jade: They are primarily used for special events, however there are many such sleigh services geared towards surface-dwelling tourists.

Ortho: Cool, what sort of stuff? Let me search up "Coral sea dolphins sleigh" real quick…

Ortho: Here we go, there's a ton of tours, like… "Tour the Majestic Sea on a Dolphin Sleigh" and "Explore Undersea Ruins upon a Dolphin Sleigh"

Ortho: "Dolphin-led sleighs are safe and secure! Feel like a king as you partake in an elegant tour of the sea!" …Wow!

Jade: Safe and secure… I am a tad doubtful of that statement.

Ortho: You mean it's actually dangerous?

Jade: About 2 years ago, there was an incident where tourists from the surface were left stranded in the middle of the ocean.

Ortho: Let me search for any incidents having to do with dolphin sleighs. Ah, I got a hit on a news article from 2 years back.

Ortho: The stranded tourists were able to find their way to land on their own, and were all okay in the end, but…

Ortho: The touring company responsible got a ton of bad reviews after that. Looks like they got flamed pretty badly online.

Jade: Well, now… A corporation built at the bottom of the sea in which fire cannot thrive was "flamed pretty badly," you say… How wonderfully ironic.

Jade: According to the news, the dolphins merely left on a whim. If this all happened because of their mood, then what's to stop this sort of thing from happening again?

Ortho: You're right, Jade-san. This is a completely different story than just trying to fix the bugs in the system.

Ortho: I wonder if there's some sort of pattern to the timing of those dolphin mood swings. I'll have to search up on it later.

Jade: Fufu, you are quite cautious, aren't you?

Ortho: Yep! 'Cause, if I'm going to go check them out, I'd want to go when they're in one of their flippant moods!

Jade: I was not expecting that response. I completely expected you to be wanting a "safe and secure" tour.

Ortho: It might be fine just strolling around the ocean depths, but I feel like it wouldn't be as satisfying being stuck on a set path.

Ortho: If the dolphins act up, they might leave me stranded in the ocean, or take me to unexpected places…

Ortho: Doesn't it get your blood pumping to think about what sort of unpredictable moments might be waiting for you?

Jade: Indeed, I completely understand that sentiment. When everything follows organized harmony, it does get quite boring.

Jade: Then, how about I suggest a more stimulating tour for you? I assure you, this absolutely will not leave you wallowing in boredom.

Ortho: That sounds fun! I can't wait to see what kind of tour you come up for me, Jade-san.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Jade: Ah, this artwork depicts the scene where the Fairest Queen is sending out her most trusted hunter on a significant mission.

Ortho: I heard that when it comes to paintings depicting the Fairest Queen, you'll want to focus on the finer details, like the direction her face is looking, or the angle at which her finger is pointing.

Ortho: Vil Schoenheit-san told me as such when I was selected as a supporter for the museum.

Jade: That's good to know. I'm sure those in Pomefiore would be passionately moved while gazing upon this painting.

Ortho: Hmm, the concept of being moved by just looking at a painting is still a difficult one for me to grasp…

Ortho: But actually, something happened recently that's still stuck in my mind. I wonder if this is what they consider to be "moved" by something?

Jade: What a fascinating start. May I ask what sort of thing happened?

Ortho: The Film Research Club went to Crane Port for some club activities, and on the way back, I ran into this family that was fishing.

Ortho: They were chatting away about what kind of dishes they'd make if they caught anything, but their bucket was still devoid of any fish…

Ortho: Right as the dad said, "I guess we should head home," his kid caught a fish!

Ortho: Everyone looked so happy. But what do you think that family did next?

Jade: Did they not put the fish in the bucket and carry it home?

Ortho: Nope. They just said it would be a pity to eat a creature so small and threw it back into the ocean.

Ortho: But they did that after they had finally fished one up! It didn't really make sense to me, so it was hard to understand what I saw.

Jade: If I recall, there is a certain release size criteria that is implemented here on land in order to conserve water resources.

Ortho: Yep. But according to my measurements, that fish was about 5 cm larger than the release criterion.

Ortho: Based on the way that family was talking, once they had caught a fish that was "big," they should have taken it home with them.

Ortho: Even though it was an adult fish adequate for cooking up, they pitied it because it looked too small…

Ortho: No matter how many times I think it over, I can't really understand that mechanism.

Jade: I thought this would be a story where you were moved by their care for a small creature… But instead, I see you were more taken in by their incomprehensible actions.

Ortho: They spent time and energy into trying to fish up that fish, but in the end… I wonder if that sort of illogical action is what makes a human human.

Jade: Perhaps, perhaps not. For that family, it may be that was the most logical choice.

Ortho: Eh, what do you mean?

Jade: If it were a large fish, then the whole family could divide it up and eat it. However, a single, small fish would not nearly be enough.

Jade: In order for everyone in the family to eat their fill, they would need to cook up more dishes to go with it.

Jade: Then, if there were no fish to begin with, they wouldn't have to go through the trouble of making extra dishes… Perhaps that would be a better way to think of it?

Ortho: I see…! If I were to think from the eyes of the person who has to prepare the meal, that decision makes more sense.

Jade: This is only a possible scenario I've come up with… But I only mean it to illustrate that there are many ways to view something.

Ortho: Heh! See, this is why talking with as many different peoples as I can gives me so much new data… Plus, it's really interesting!

Ortho: Thanks a ton for listening, Jade-san. I hope we can chat about other stuff some other time.

Ortho: Okay, time for me to go check out another exhibit. Oh hey, this painting…

Ortho: It depicts the moment when the Son of the God of Thunder and his trainer is talking about his grand dreams.

Ortho: According to the lore, this guy's strength was way off the charts and was invulnerable, but… I bet I could find it.

Ortho: I know I could find a weakness that could bring even a hero like that down.

Requested by Anonymous.

[youwerethedefeated]

Ok brief run down of kagehina sightings in the light novels for @infinitemilk

Right off the bat in volume 1 chapter 1, we have Hinata daydreaming about having a picnic with kageyama underneath a beautiful sakura tree in full bloom. Yep with the pink flowers falling around romantically, they're sharing food and laughing together etc.

The "he chose the Olympics over me" also comes from there, though I'd say that's the least gay thing to happen in that chapter. (It's volume 12, chapter 1 if I'm not mistaken.) Prior to that, Hinata also complains that "Kageyama never tells me anything" and that if they're partners, shouldn't be included in that kind of decision making? (Yeah just like that)

This is the same chapter where yachi goes on on her (paraphrasing) "they're not friends not lovers but a secret, worse third thing" rant: "more like a fork and knife, or the minute hand and the hour hand of a clock. Even when there's no conversation between them, they still continue to move with the same purpose"

This same chapter, hinata continues bitching about kageyama joining a pro team/the JNT and ditching him the whole time lmao

There are a few chapters during the summer training camp that show Hinata pestering everyone to compete with him because Kageyama wasn't talking to him - at some point lev asks "why don't you compete with your partner" and hinata is like "Oh we're taking a break" (yeah just like THAT)

When they do start training together again they're both so happy about it.....

There's a chapter (that I never found translated in full) that's that one scene where Hinata messages kageyama on new years day, and kageyama gets "fluttering feelings at the bottom of his stomach." My dude be out here getting literal butterflies in his belly JUST FROM A TEXT and then he proceeds to get mad at hinata for making him feel this way 😭

Later on when they meet anyway, Hinata says he wanted to go to the shrine with kageyama and that even if they go now, it won't be the same bc then it's not "his first time" anymore.....

And the star of the show. The Grand King in Rio.

This one takes the crown for not only being the gayest, but also perhaps the most plot relevant. It's just about that time Hinata and Oikawa met in Rio.

Inevitably, they talk a bit about Kageyama, and oikawa starts downright TEASING hinata over him like... asking if they'll meet for the Olympics and stuff.

And then hinata starts spiraling because a) he's not at a point where he can meet kageyama as an equal, b) he can't remember Kageyama's face, c) he tries so hard to remember "that terrifying face" that he gives himself a tummy ache ksjhdkaldm

In the end hinata arrives at the conclusion that he and Kageyama don't need to meet now, since he isn't ready, and he recalls the promise he made to Kageyama, and how it's such a coincidence that he met Oikawa all the across the globe, and it was also a coincidence that he met Kageyama in the first place, but if life is made of coincidences then it's inevitable that they'll meet again someday... the rest is super poetic, really

ANYWAY this is it from the top of my head. I think @kagehiner might have more anecdotes since he was the one who got me into the LNs in the first place lol

[mllemaenad]

It's fascinating that the people who have most consistently and successfully established a connection to the titans are the Grey Wardens.

I'm not trying to oversell here: what they're doing has a lot of downsides. But while there are rare incidents of a dwarf truly connecting to a titan across the Dragon Age stories ... only the Grey Wardens have found a way to do it that's even moderately predictable. Sure, the Joining might kill you. But if it doesn't – congratulations, you're linked up to the Song of the titans.

Of course, they're connecting to the corrupted dreams of the titans: the infamous blight. And the more obvious differences in that connection obviously stem from that: the infertility, the eventual corruption of their bodies, the call of the Song that can overwhelm their minds.

But it's interesting what else is going on with them. I've never seen a Grey Warden dwarf do magic, the way Valta or Harding can. But I do wonder if that's an absolute rule, or just a side effect of the way they're connected.

It does seem to reconnect dwarves to their dreams. The archdemon dreams are the most obvious example, but there's also Oghren's account of a normal dream in Awakening. I recognise that that anecdote is meant to be funny but a) it still happens and b) there's now a lot of material from Harding that could also be described as "funny stories about dreams", and we aren't meant to disbelieve her.

So why no (obvious) magic?

Well, the thing about the Joining is that it is at least an attempt to connect to the blight safely.

The Joining requires darkspawn blood. Recruits are typically sent out under the watch of an older Warden to slay darkspawn and collect the blood. This is a test to see if the recruit has the courage and ability to fight darkspawn. Once the blood is collected, the Wardens add a single drop of Archdemon blood and use magic to make it at least remotely safe to consume. Archdemon blood is among the rarest substances in all Thedas, and it makes the Joining all the more exclusive a ritual. Older Wardens carry a small amount with them at all times. – The World of Thedas Volume 1

The exact details of how the blood is prepared remain a mystery, but the Grey Wardens have clearly gained some control over it. A recruit who is suffering from the taint may not be cured of it, but if they survive the Joining they will develop a resistance that may last decades. Without the Joining they will die or become ghouls like anyone else, so while a certain resilience on the part of the recruit may be part of the magic, it certainly isn't all of it.

Prospective Wardens consume as little as possible, as safely as possible, in order to gain the skills necessary to fight darkspawn: the ability to sense their presence, a practical if not literal immunity to the taint – and the all-important archdemon-killing presence of the taint in their veins.

Most of them aren't trying to do more with it. Although, yep, Avernus has the general idea:

The taint allows us to sense the darkspawn. The longer we survive with the taint in our blood, the more potent it becomes. Unfortunately, this corruption will eventually overwhelm the Warden; over time, it devours both mind and body, leaving nothing. But what if the spread of the corruption could be stopped, or contained in some way? What if the Warden could become more powerful, without having that power kill him? How great would that power be? Would it be enough to stop the demons? The Joining ritual is crude. We take into yourself the blood of the darkspawn in the most obvious way. Most die from the corruption immediately; it is, after all, poison. There must be some way to refine the Joining. Isolate the true power that is found in darkspawn blood, and leave behind the evil that kills us. I can feel the corruption starting to take its toll on my body. I must not succumb. There is too much work to be done. Through my magic I've been able to slow its inevitable spread, but not stop it completely. I am starting to hear things, even while awake: A voice—more beautiful than any other—that calls to me from the depths. In my dreams, I see the Black City, and I am drawn towards it. There is something there, an answer to what this taint is, this taint that we share with the darkspawn… —From the notes of Avernus. – Avernus's Notes

And that's the key thing he points out: the taint within a Grey Warden grows more powerful over time. However, the mental resistance to that taint breaks down as it grows, so by the time the taint is at its full power the Warden is effectively a ghoul. Yes, there are instances of intelligent, functional ghouls – but they're not the norm.

Power develops over time. One of the first things Alistair will tell a newly recruited Hero of Ferelden is that he can sense the presence of nearby darkspawn, but you can't ... yet. That power will develop with time.

In practice, by the time most dwarven Wardens have developed enough taint in them to even attempt magic, they're in no condition to try it. And even if they were, would they think to?

By contrast, both Valta and Harding are basically smacked in the face with the raw power of lyrium. It does not grow in them slowly, it comes to them all at once – and a certain amount of involuntary magic is performed on the spot. Once it's happened, they can't ignore it. They know they can do it.

I wonder if a dwarven Warden on the brink of their Calling might be able to throw some rocks around, if they really tried.

After all: genlock emissaries have magic, and a genlock is ... not exactly a dwarf, no, but it's also not exactly not a dwarf.

[dancethroughthethunder]

Bobby from High School Chapter Four: If Life Were a Musical

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 Of All the Gin Joints, Chapter 2 Two Coffees, Chapter 3 It's Not Prom

Summary: It's date day! After a brief chat with Nat, Bob picks you up for your first date at the Farmer's Market where the two of you spend time walking around, flirting, and even holding hands. It's a dream date for the both of you, and you're already thinking about what comes next.

Author’s Note: I took a little longer on this one than I expected, so if you're still here reading thank you for the wait! I am so truly blown away by every single response. This work can also be found here at my ao3. Also, the very brief anecdote about the judgmental waitress is a very real thing that happened to me lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy sweet Bobby on a date!

Bob Floyd has a plan. A great one, really. He’s going to pick you up, take you to the Farmer’s Market where he’ll buy you coffee and breakfast, carry your bag, and most importantly, he’s going to buy you flowers. 

He’s spent the better part of the last 12 hours thinking about this plan, ever since he asked you on this date. In a way, it’s perfect that he has barely 12 hours between asking you and the date itself. This way he barely has any time to worry about it, to overthink it. People have a tendency to think Bob is too shy or nervous to go on dates, but that’s not true. He is, however, a little nervous to go on a date with someone he’s known and liked as long as you. But who could blame him?

He’s ready a little bit earlier than he needs to leave to go pick you up, so he figures he might as well call Nat. It’s earlier than he would normally call on a weekend but she’s already texted him and he knows she’ll want to talk before his date. He’s a little bit surprised when she immediately declines the call but laughs when she quickly FaceTimes him instead.

“BOB. Date day!” She yells through the phone, in lieu of a normal greeting.

“Yep. I know, Nat.” He chuckles.

“Okay, what are you wearing?” He’s not surprised by the question, if anything he was expecting a text with it sometime while getting ready.

“I’ve got on a pair of jeans and –” Bob briefly looks down at his outfit while starting to describe it before Nat quickly cuts him off.

“No, show me! Come on, Bob!” 

Rolling his eyes at her antics, Bob takes a second to try and prop his phone up on the counter before giving up and taking the phone into his room, flipping the camera around and showing her in the mirror. Natasha quickly gives her approval before making him show her which sneakers he’s going to wear as well.

“You know I do manage to dress myself every morning, Nat. And it’s not like this is the first time I’ve gone out on a date.”

“No, I know, but she’s so cute and you liked her in high school, and it’s just cute, Bob. Besides, she’s funny and I like her already.” Bob feels a surge of pride at this. You’re not even his girlfriend (yet), but the idea that his best friend really likes you and that you fit in well with his friends makes him smile.

“I was surprised you drove her to the bar last night.” He says as he sits down to put on his sneakers.

“We’d been texting throughout the week and I offered to pick her up.” She shrugs. “I figured it’d give me a chance to get to know her better, and maybe make it a little less intimidating for her to come hang out with everyone. It’s not like I knew I’d get to interrogate her about your upcoming date on the way home, that was a surprise bonus.” 

“I didn’t really plan it either, Nat. But I’m glad I did it. Wait - what do you mean interrogate?” 

Nat laughs at this, and despite her promises that she was perfectly normal and polite, Bob is suddenly a little bit worried. He loves his best friend to death, but there’s nobody who would better be able to embarrass him. That’s friendship, though. Plus he knows she wouldn’t say anything too crazy, it’s not like she’s Hangman or anything. 

The two talk for a few more minutes before Bob checks his watch and realizes he has to leave to pick you up. He almost hangs up when Natasha interrupts again.

“Wait - you didn’t say anything about flowers! Bob, tell me you got her flowers.”

“Well, no –” He starts to say as he runs a hand through his hair.

“– Bob come on!” Nat interjects.

“– But , I’m going to get her some at the market.” Bob keeps talking despite the interruption.

“Oh.” Nat softens. “Good. That’s cute. Damn, you do have game. Alright, go pick up your girl, I can’t wait to hear all about it.” 

Bob says goodbye and hangs up the phone before heading out to his truck. He takes a quick second to text you that he’s on his way before starting the car and heading over to you.

As he pulls onto your street, he’s suddenly hit with a case of nerves. Maybe he should have gotten you flowers. Will it look rude if he shows up empty handed? He thought his plan to get them at the market was pretty good, and Nat seemed to think so too, but will you be disappointed when you open the door? He hopes not because he’s already at your driveway so it’s too late to change his mind now. 

Bob parks his truck behind your SUV and looks down at the clock. It’s 8:29, he’s exactly one minute early which he thinks is perfect. Traffic was on his side this morning which is good because he wouldn’t want to leave you waiting, and he also wouldn’t want to get there too early and make you feel rushed. He gets out of the truck, and walks up your driveway to get to your front porch. 

He’s still a little bit nervous so as he rings the doorbell, he takes a deep breath. He tries to remind himself that it’s not like you’re a stranger he’s trying to impress for the first time. You already know so much about each other. You know what the other looked like at 16 sweaty in math class after gym, you know the other’s siblings and family, you know when you each learned to drive, what your favorite sports are, and what your favorite subjects were in school. You’re incredibly easy to talk to, but if all else fails he can bring up old friends and memories and you two can spend time reminiscing on the past. 

He hears you call out that you’ll be there in a second and even though he knows his clothes are clean, neat, and have the Nat seal of approval, he looks down one more time as if to make sure this isn’t a dream and he’s not suddenly pantsless. 

Suddenly, the door flings open and you’re standing there, phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder while you half crouch to pull on one of your shoes. You’ve got a lot going on but you look beautiful, and he’s even more excited to take you out than he was just a minute ago. You’re in a t-shirt dress with a jean jacket and sneakers and he thinks it might be the prettiest thing you’ve ever worn, and he’s seen you in a prom dress.

“Bobby, hi! Come on in!” He loves the way your eyes light up when you see him. “I’m so sorry, I’m just finishing getting ready, because someone wouldn’t let me hang up because she wanted to stay on the phone to say hi to you.” You move out of the doorway to let him in, and hand him your phone where he can already hear his sister’s voice coming through the speaker.

“I’ll be right back, I just need to finish putting on a little sunscreen. This California sun is a killer.” You say as you head deeper into your house. From this angle, he can see that you have another cute ribbon in your hair. This one is green, matching your dress. He doesn’t know what it is about those ribbons but damn does he love you wearing them.

“Hi, Al. What are you doing on the phone so early?” 

“Bob! Way to go asking our girl on a date.” Allie completely ignores his question.

“Thank you. Again, what are you doing?”

“She’s going on a date with my baby brother! I couldn’t not talk to her in advance.”

“What did you say?” He groans. He should have known that between Phoenix and Allie, someone would have embarrassed him and since Phoenix swore she didn’t, obviously the universe made sure that Allie did. 

“Nothing, nothing. Just a little girl talk. She texted me last night on her way home and I made her promise to call me while she was getting ready. So, how does she look?”

“Allie, I’m not having this conversation with you right now, I’ll tell you later.” Bob hopes that Allie gets the hint that he wants to be able to tell you first how beautiful you look, and doesn’t want you to overhear him telling someone else. 

“Alright, fine. But seriously Bob, I’m excited for you two. I’m also selfishly very excited that this has brought us closer again, I didn’t even realize how much I missed her.”

“You’re telling me. I’ll call you later, okay?” 

After extracting a promise for a full play-by-play debrief later, Allie finally hangs up. You’re still in the other room and Bob doesn’t want to be rude and wander, and he’s not sure if you’re a shoes on or off in the house kind of person, so he just sort of stands there, looking at anything he can see, just taking it in. From his position by the front door, he can see how lived-in you’ve already made the place, with photos and art everywhere. He thinks it's adorable, and exactly like the type of place he’d picture you in. 

Less than a minute later, you come back into the room, apologizing for running late. 

“Sorry, I really meant to be ready when you got here. I’m choosing to blame your sister.” You joke. “But I’m also really hoping that we’ll write that off as an accident and I promise I’ll do better next time?” Your shoulders raise just the tiniest bit, giving away your apprehension at the question.

If life were a musical, this is the scene where Bob would break out into song and dance at the idea of you wanting to go on a second date with him, especially given that you haven’t even left the house to go on your first one yet. Inspired by the vague memory of your performances in the fall musical every year, Bob can just picture it: an upbeat number where he confesses his elation, maybe there would be a dance sequence with an entire ensemble backing him up. No matter what that would include, he thinks the most important thing is that you’d be standing right there with that same sweet smile you already have on. 

As far as Bob knows (and he thinks he would have picked up on it by now), life isn’t a musical and he’s not sure that being in high school theatre necessarily translates to wanting a man standing in your kitchen ready for a first date to burst into spontaneous song. So instead he summons his confidence, and replies, “I’ll hold you to that one.”

He’s delighted when in reply you wink, and say “You better, Bobby.” 

Bob watches as you grab a tote bag and quickly look inside, checking to make sure you have everything else you need.

“Alright, sorry again. I’m ready to go.” You smile at him. 

“I am too, I actually haven’t been to this market yet.” He admits.

“Well, aren’t I lucky to get to go with you.” You say sweetly. “I love going to the Farmer’s Market. I used to go all the time back in DC. Honestly, there were times I’d go to multiple different ones in a weekend - not even to buy anything, just walk around, get some fresh air, and enjoy the community.” You tell him as the two of you walk out of your house and you lock the door behind you.

“Huh, I don’t know that I ever thought about it like that.”

“Oh, Bobby, people watching at the market is the best. It’s right up there with people watching at the mall!” You exclaim, and Bob knows exactly what you mean.

“It’s also great at the Hard Deck.” Bob says, launching into a story about some of the things he’s witnessed at the bar while the two of you climb up into his truck. Bob looks over at you while you’re getting buckled, and from this new angle he can see a spot of sunscreen on the side of your face, at the very edge of your cheek, that you missed rubbing in. Without giving it much thought, Bob reaches over to gently get it for you. 

“You missed a spot.” Bob suddenly realizes that he probably should have told you first before just reaching over, but you just look up at him and smile. He doesn’t notice the way your breath hitches as he gently touches your face, but he does notice the way you instinctively lean into his hand. 

“Thanks for getting it.” You say, more shyly than either of you might expect.

Bob removes his hand from your face, and has a second realization: he hasn’t told you how great you look today. Truthfully, it was the first thing he thought when you answered the door. He hopes it isn’t too late to mention it, he doesn’t want you to think he didn’t notice immediately. 

“By the way,” he starts to say as he puts the key in the ignition, “you look beautiful. I mean, you are beautiful, and you look great today.” Bob turns to look at you as he starts the car and the two of you just smile at each other for a moment. Bob wonders if being that smiley all the time hurts your cheeks. He hopes not, because he loves that expression on you.

“Why, thank you.” You seem almost surprised, so Bob rushes to explain himself.

“I meant to say it as soon as you opened the door. Honestly, I think I just got thrown off by Allie being on the phone.” Then, remembering what you said earlier he says, “I’m choosing to blame my sister, and promise I’ll do better next time?” 

His teasing grin only widens when you wink and reply, “I’ll hold you to it.” 

On the drive to the market, he points out some of the places he’s been so far, and while you haven’t been in the area as long, you do the same. Neither of you say it directly, but there’s a clear undertone of I’d like to take you there sometime whenever one of you recommends a place to the other.

“Alright, I’ve got a plan.” You tell him. “So, I looked up the list of vendors in advance and have a general idea of what I might be interested in and want to see, but I think we should just take a lap around the whole market first to see what stands out to us and then on our second lap we can actually get breakfast or produce or anything. Does that work?” 

“Am I going to sound like I’m trying too hard if I admit that I did the same thing and that I was going to suggest something similar?” Bob asks. 

“Aha, perfect! Do you also look up the menu for a restaurant before you go?” 

When Bob admits he does, you let out a little “yes!” and laugh. It doesn’t take much longer for you two to arrive at the market and start looking around. It’s a little busy, but neither of you mind. It just gives you an excuse to stand closer to one another while you go from stand to stand, pointing out what you might want to get on your second lap. You stop to look at the produce at each one of the farm stands to be able to decide which one you’ll get some berries from, and Bob takes a look at the flowers you walk past, hoping you don’t notice him doing it.

A few minutes into your first lap around the market, your fingers brush against Bob’s. Neither of you say anything, but given the way you each freeze for just half a second, it’s clear you notice. Then somewhere around your second produce stand, about a third of your way around the market, it happens again. The third time it happens, you’re almost right back where you two started. 

While Bob’s busy trying to decide if it’s too soon or too weird to just grab your hand, you’ve already moved past those reservations. One second he’s thinking about if you’d mind if he tried to hold your hand and how he might play it off if you’re not interested, and the next his hand is right in yours. 

As you interlace your fingers with Bob’s, you offer a simple, innocent, “it’ll be easier in the crowd.”

Bob almost laughs. You both know that the group of people around you has nothing to do with why you’re holding hands, but instead of saying something about it, Bob just lightly squeezes your hand. You two smile at one another and then keep walking.

“So, what are you thinking for breakfast?” You ask.

“I’m okay with anything, but those breakfast burritos looked good.” He gestures with his free hand in the direction of the stand he’s talking about.

“Amazing. I mean I guess there’s no reason we couldn’t get food from different stands, but I was thinking the exact same thing.”  

“It might take them a few minutes to make, do you want to order them and then we can grab coffee while we wait?” He asks.

“Definitely, and then maybe we find somewhere to eat? Would you be up for a third lap of the market after that for anything we want to take home? My plan made so much sense earlier but now I realize it’s just dragging you in circles.” You almost look sheepish.

“Nah, I like walking around with you. And you’re right, it’s got great people watching.” 

The two of you head off on your second lap of the market, stopping to order your breakfasts. You only agree to let Bob pay once he reminds you that that’s his right as the person who asked you on the date. When you roll your eyes to agree, promising that you’ll buy the coffee, Bob already knows he’s going to pay for that too. Instead of putting his credit card all the way back in his wallet, he keeps it in his front pocket to help him be faster than you when it comes to paying for coffee.

With your burritos ordered and an estimated time of 10 minutes until they’re ready, you two head over to the coffee stand you had noticed. Just as he planned, Bob quickly gets his credit card out to pay. When you predictably complain about it, Bob tells you that he might let you pay next time. 

You still have time before your burritos are ready, and Bob is trying to figure out when and how to duck away to buy your flowers when another woman, about your age, walks up and compliments your bag. The two of you strike up an easy conversation, and Bob realizes that this is his perfect opportunity. 

You’re busy chatting, coffee in hand, so you don’t think much of it when Bob offers a quick “I’ll be right back” and heads to the next stand housing absolutely gorgeous flowers. 

Bob has no idea what your favorite flowers are, and he’s only mildly certain that you don’t have any particular floral allergies. Even if what he grabs aren’t your favorites, he’s hoping that its the thought that counts and that for a first date, it’s an okay mistake to make. 

His eyes are drawn towards a beautiful bouquet full of spring colors and he decides that’s the one. He doesn’t want to take too long to look at the options and risk you wondering where he’s gone, and if it drew his attention so quickly, maybe that’s a sign that they’re the right ones. He hands the bouquet to the vendor to be wrapped, pays, and somehow manages to make it back to your side all while you’re still chatting with the woman at the coffee stand. 

Your back is to him, so he steps up behind you and leans forward as he lets you know he’s back. 

“Hi, you.” You say, leaning back against him, without even turning around. With your body pressed against his, you introduce him to your new friend Maria.

“You two are so cute together.” Maria says. She glances down to see the flowers in Bob’s hand and gives him a quick wink. You're too busy smiling up at Bob to notice. Maria offers you her instagram handle so you can stay in touch and get coffee together sometime, and after saying goodbye you finally turn around to look at Bob.

“Bobby, are those for me?” You ask, noticing the bouquet in his hands. 

“Nah, I thought they were perfect for your new friend.” He teases as you lightly shove his shoulder. “Yeah, they’re for you.” 

As you take the flowers he’s offering, you lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you, they’re gorgeous.”

“I didn’t know your favorites, I was just hoping you’d like these.” He admits.

“Luckily for you, I don’t have a favorite. I actually prefer mixed bouquets.” 

“Really?” Bob trusts you, but he wouldn’t put it past you to just say that politely for now. 

“Really.” He knows you mean it. 

“Oh good. Full disclosure, Nat gave me hell when she heard I wasn’t going to have flowers for you when I picked you up, but I saw multiple florist stands on the vendor list last night and thought you might like that better.” 

“You know me so well.” You beam. “Come on, let’s go check on our breakfast.” 

Bob expects that between your coffee and your flowers, your hands will be full but you surprise him by tucking your flowers into the crook of your arm, transferring the coffee to that hand, and then using your (now free) right hand to reach out and hold his hand again. 

You wait a few more minutes, telling him about your conversation with Maria, before your burritos are ready. After you get your burritos, you find a bench in the shade where you can sit down and eat. You do a silly little happy dance when you take the first bite of your burrito, and Bob laughs with you. He’s so endeared by you – the way you’re not afraid to be a little silly, to chat with a nice stranger, to be the first one to reach out and hold his hand. 

While you eat your breakfasts, he’s thinking about all of the little things you’ve each done first so far. You approached him in the bar, you were the first to mention texting, and you kissed him on the cheek and held his hand first. It feels like so much of the ball has been in your court and don’t get him wrong, he’s been loving it, but he doesn’t want you to think he’s not interested. It’s funny how he can go up in million dollar aircraft every day, but in matters like this, it feels like you’re the brave one. 

Sure, he could consider it even since he texted first (well, technically Phoenix did but that doesn’t count), he asked you to get coffee, he asked you to dance, and he asked you on the date. Given the way you’re looking at him, and how well the morning is going, he thinks maybe he might try and kiss you today. It doesn’t feel quite like the right moment, but he really likes you, and he’s wanted to kiss you since you were both 14 sitting next to each other in homeroom, so maybe he’ll borrow some of your bravery and do it. 

Either way, the two of you finish eating and decide to walk around the market again while you drink your coffee and laugh kindheartedly about the various people watching you're doing. When you walk by the stand where he bought your bouquet, you make a point to tell the florist how gorgeous the flowers are and how much you like them. She gives Bob an approving glance, and he really likes the way that everyone who sees you today thinks of you two as a unit, a couple. 

Once you finally start picking up some berries and the other non-breakfast goods that caught your eye, Bob reaches out to grab your tote bag. Up until now, it’s been more purse than grocery bag, but now that you’re loading it with your purchases, he’s going to carry it for you. You don’t even notice at first, you’re busy paying the man and listening while he tells you more about his family’s farm as Bob takes your bag out of your hand. 

Even once you leave that stand and head to another one, you’re so busy talking about how excited you are for how fresh those berries look that you still don’t notice right away. 

“I love getting fresh berries at the market. I know they might be more expensive than from the grocery story but I’m more directly supporting the vendor, they’re usually fresher, and I just really prefer it, ya know? Wait – my bag!” You suddenly look down, as if your bag is going to miraculously appear in your hands. 

“Right here, darlin’.” Bob turns so you can see it on his opposite shoulder, and you immediately reach a hand out to grab it.

“Oh, thank you. I swear, sometimes my mama was right. I would forget my head if it wasn’t attached.”

“Nah, you didn’t forget it. I grabbed it already. I’m carrying it.”

“Bobby, you don’t need to carry my bag.” You stop walking and look at him with a curious tilt of your head.

“I don’t need to, I want to. This is a date, ma’am. I had three goals this morning: buy you breakfast, get you flowers, and carry your bag. You can’t leave me at two out of the three, it would just be cruel.” Okay, so Bob’s hamming it up a little, but if you can be fun and silly, so can he. 

“Oh it would, would it?” You grin. “Alright, well only because you’re so cute.” You tell him, as if it’s some kind of hardship for you not to carry your own bag. You put your hand right back in his and pick up where you left off, looking at the various stands to decide what, if anything else, you might want to take home with you.

Your last stop of the morning is a delicious looking bakery stand where you get some bagels and a box of cinnamon rolls and Bob gets some bread and a few cookies, including one double chocolate cookie for Nat and a snickerdoodle he grabs without you seeing, and tucks in your bag to surprise you with later. 

Finally, the two of you decide you’re ready to head out. Well, you would each spend hours together if you could but there are really only so many times you can walk in a circle around the same market. Today, your limit is three. It was a good plan, but you’re both ready to get back inside since that California heat is starting to pick up. 

“I had a really great time today.” You tell Bob as you climb back up into his truck.

“I did too.” 

“Is it too soon to ask about a second date?” You ask.

“She asks, as if she hadn’t mentioned it hours ago.” He teases. “No, I’d love to go on another date.” He says sincerely. 

“Good. Me too. Is it crazy if I admit that I’d go tomorrow?”

“Not tonight?” Bob doesn’t even have time to worry that it came out the wrong way, you’re immediately smiling, in on the joke.

“Nah, I’ve got some standards of what is and isn’t crazy. But more realistically, it's because I’m grabbing dinner with one of my colleagues.” 

“Fair enough, how’s tomorrow then?”

When you agree, Bob feels like he could float out of the car. Your first date isn’t even over yet and you’re planning your second, like you can’t get enough of him. (You can’t.) (It’s mutual.) Bob’s trying not to let his thoughts race towards a third date, a fourth, how long until you can be exclusive and official? He’s fully aware his mind is rushing things, but somehow he’s not sure you’d mind. 

With a tentative plan for tomorrow, you start telling him more about this dinner with your colleague.

“Bobby, last time I let her pick the place she took us to this snobby wine bar. When I asked if they had anything sweet the waitress rolled her eyes and told me to consider a cocktail instead.” 

“No she didn’t. So what did you do?”

“I ordered a cocktail. And it sucked.” You burst out laughing. “The thing is, I like wine, I just prefer something on the sweeter side. I just wanted a recommendation!” You put your head in your hands, laughing at the memory. 

The drive home flies by, and before you know it you’re back in your driveway. 

“Can I help you bring everything in?” Bob asks, and you nod gratefully. You could easily carry it in yourself but neither of you are ready for the morning to end. 

As you walk up to your front door, Bob insists on carrying your bag and your (now empty) coffee cup. You make a show of rolling your eyes, but let him do it. It’s a little old fashioned, but it’s sweet, and you both like it. 

“What are you up to between now and dinner?” He asks, leaning against your kitchen counter as you put away everything you bought. 

“Hmm, first I’ll hop in the shower and rinse off my sunscreen. Then it’ll probably be nap time.” You shrug as you close the refrigerator and lean on the counter next to Bob. “I am not really a morning person.” 

You seem to realize what you’ve said before Bob can say anything, so you quickly add, “but I can do it. Especially when there’s something worth doing. I’m just not going to be up early on the weekend just for fun. But if there’s the chance to go to a market? I’m there. Even better when that chance involves you.” 

This is it, Bob realizes. The air suddenly feels heavy with something he thinks is anticipation. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he knows this is the moment where he’s going to kiss you for the first time. 

You’re already right next to each other, so he doesn’t have far to move. In all honesty, Bob has no idea whether he takes a step towards you, he’s so focused on that look in your eyes and how badly he wants you in his arms. One second you’re both leaning against the counter, facing one another, and the next second Bob’s got one hand on the side of your face and the other wrapping around your waist as he leans down and kisses you. 

You don’t hesitate to kiss him back. 

Your hands quickly find purchase wrapped around his neck, and the way you lean into him makes him hold your waist even tighter. With your weight balanced between Bob's strong hold on you and your body pressed against him, your back leg gently flicks up, foot leaving the ground a few inches. It’s probably a little obscene for not-quite noon in your kitchen, but it’s the result of years of mutual pining, of fate bringing you back to one another, of the greatest first date either of you have ever had. 

“Hi.” You giggle as you finally pull away, leg lowering back to the ground. 

“Hi there.” He says. “I’ve been thinking about that all morning.” 

“Me too.” You admit. 

Bob ducks down and presses a kiss to your forehead before helping you finish put your things away. You get out a spare grocery bag for his bread and cookies, and when he surprises you with your snickerdoodle, you kiss him again. 

"I didn't even ask, what are you doing later?"

"I've got plans with Nat. Truthfully I don't even know what we're doing, I don't bother asking half the time." 

"She's a woman on a mission, I get it." You laugh. "I like her a lot. In some ways she's a lot like Allie." 

"Oh I know. The day those two finally get in the same room, my life is over." He groans.

"Nah, it won't be that bad." You stop and think for a second. "Well, maybe it will be. But I'll be there to help." 

"Oh, you better." Bob teases as he steals another kiss.

It's unreal how easy it is with you. Flirting with you comes naturally, and not that he was worried about it but woah is it incredible to kiss you. 

Bob has to go sooner than he likes but you walk him to his truck despite his protest that he just walked you to your door. With another quick kiss and a promise to see him tomorrow (and definitely text more later), you finally say goodbye. 

On his drive home, Bob feels invincible. Life still isn’t a musical, otherwise Bob knows he’d be bursting out in song right now. Something bright, cheery - the same way you make him feel. As cheesy as it is, he knows you make his heart sing, musical or no musical.

[gwenfr]

Finally finished this piece. Took me more time than I thought it would...

For @bucktommypositivityweek day 3 :

meeting the friends and family

It was inspired by the posts of @unfuckablebogtroll saying that the Buckley parents would be accepting of Buck being bi and him having a boyfriend, especially Tommy. It's one of my favourite Bucktommy headcanons out there 😊, I really love it so much so yep needed to draw it (hope you don't mind @unfuckablebogtroll ?)

So it's Phillip and Margaret talking to Buck and Tommy during the reception of the madney wedding. Tommy is telling jokes and anecdotes because he saw how Buck was nervous, but everything is fine and the Buckley parents like Tommy very much 👌🏻

(someone photographed them and now Maddie and Chimney have this picture in their house 😊)

Margaret : it's been a long time since she laughed like that...

Phillip : is just delighted to see his daughter, his wife and his son being the happiest he ever saw them be...

Tommy : just wanted to make a good impression and be a good boyfriend...

Buck : is thinking "damn all I had to do was kiss boys?” and how he wants to kiss just this one right here right now...

[sad-girl-hours23]

Unfortunately I am so broke, but I wanted to contribute something.

2024 has been pretty rough for me, the backhalf especially but being in this fandom has been such a bright spot and I'm so grateful to be in this with all of you, united by our love for Buck and Tommy.

I've watched 9-1-1 since the beginning, but pretty casually. I never followed any blogs about it until Buck/Tommy.

Kind of a funny/sad anecdote: I've been dealing with some pretty awful brainfog/cognitive issues for the last 2+ years due to chronic issues and with 9-1-1 being off for a whole year, I kind of forgot about it lol and so I started season 7 late. I can't even remember, maybe I saw a post from Aisha on Instagram, I'm pretty sure she was the only cast member I was following. And since I hadn't been following tumblrs or have anyone to talk to about it, I couldn't even remember what the last episode I had watched was. So I decided to start from the pilot again while simultaneously starting season 7 (and there were so many episodes i forgot that I was like yep, here's where I stopped but it wasn't lol I had originally watched all 6 seasons...sheesh.)

Anyway, I fell in love with Buck and Tommy and this fandom and it's been such a rollercoaster.

I'm continually blown away by the creativity and kindness and genuine fun of this fandom - all the fics, headcanons, gifsets, edits, projects/campaigns. I really love it here and all of you 🫶🏽

Because of Buck & Tommy, I started writing again for the first time in 3 years and it's been such a blast.

I don't know if they will ever get back together or if we'll ever see Lou as Tommy on our screens again, but God, I hope so.

Thank you @alliwantforchristmasislou for creating this wonderful project.

[imajinacxic888]

Just watched the 7th episode of AthaAllAlong so...

Last time it was fun to say what was on my mind the first time so this time i took notes as the episode progresed

(still clueless about how to pirate screenshots so you have to still bear with me)

Right of the bat super homosexual the title of the episode ngl

IS LILIAN A QUEEN (YASSSSSS)

WHERE IS RIO INDEED (BILLY IN MY MIND: WHERE IS YOU HOE AT?)

YOUR MOTHERS EX?

Billy I respect your point of view regarding Wanda but please you are the literal embodiment of her reasons to do everything

ASK A STRAIGHT LADY HELLO!?????

The castle is so pretty

BILLY QUESTIONING HER AND HER LOOK, SHE IS SO HURT BY HIM DOUBTING HER

Their outfits are so fucking gorgeous it should be illegal

“She’s based on me you know” for the gay allegations? (“prove it” Billy don’t be like that)

Billy is a terrible protagonist of a horror movie

Do nobody ever check all of their surroundings when entering a fricking gorgeous goth castle?

Not the evil queen laugh

I knew you two would survive

Five-minutes-ago-lilia would commit arson for you and then forget you ever existed

Ohhhhhhhhh- now it makes sense

Subway-station?

Oh, five-minutes-ago lilia was ten-minutes-after lilia yep that checks out

Goddamit Lilia I like you too much for this to be the end

Omg their outfits are so cute

“Teenager” “Omg she used his full name” I’m dying

My mind is also loud all the time

“this is so offensive” “be culturally offended later” actually the best time to be culturally offended is when sharing anecdotes so yes get offended later

We are going to be just as exhasperated as Jen by the time this episode ends with how much we are going back to this fucking tunnels

“I’m the queer-ent” guys this show is the peak of television I’m telling you-

God-like-nun is the best (goddamit not the Victorian era common fever)

All the gaps finally make sense

The salem seven walk so fucking funny I cannot take them seriously

“my coven” seriously? Right after half of it is dead ?

Not fucking alice man

Jen having all the power we know she had

Not Agatha- when billy- Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhaaaa- Thanks so fucking ahhhhh (is her card in the same position as if she was holding a baby or is it just me?)

Oh so Billy is a fucking butterfly

YESSSSSSSSSSSS queen I knew you will appear in this episode

Oh noo what a shame she was death all along, who would have thought (HOLY FUCKING SHIT SHE IS GORGEOUS IN HER DEATH FORM)

How all of them look at Agatha for confirmation (I like the bad boys!????? Oh THEY FUCKING-)

I adore this amazing shots

Welp the creepy coven is dead and also my last comfort character in this series

Oh so time in a bottle hitting right in the feels

[beautifulqueerexistence]

One Week Post-Op (DI Top Surgery update, TW MENTION: Surgical procedure, surgical complications, medical transition, top surgery drains, Hematoma)

Wow, holy crap, my surgery was a week ago already!

I met with my surgeon yesterday for my first follow up! It was really nice to be able to talk about the small hematoma (a blot clot, more or less!) in my left side, and have her concretely tell me that it’s breaking down the way it’s supposed to, that the neon color drainage IS normal (for a person with a hematoma)… And I got my right side drain out!!! The left will continue to stay in until (at least) my follow up a week from today. The hematoma needs to reliquify slowly and drain, either via my drain or by spreading to the surrounding porous tissue by converting to bruising. That being said, my bruising is gonna WORSEN before it’ll get better, but bruising is a good sign that my hematoma is healing. Swelling is pretty consistent on the left, and she said that everything looks amazing, all things considered!

I realized yesterday that I will never again have to deal with underboob sweat, that weird “tuck your shirt under them so your skin doesn’t stick and get all sweaty gross,” or having to “rest them” while leaning on a table. That was a trippy realization, that at some point I did that for the last time, and now I’m just free of it. I was able to soooorta tilt to my right while sleeping last night, and as a side sleeper, I’m ecstatic about that. I looked at my pre-op photos for the first time since surgery this morning and I’m gonna be honest… I’m already forgetting what they felt like. It feels so dissociated bc my brain just so easily clicked into “Yep, this is what my chest is supposed to look like.” Even with the incisions and bruising it still feels like MY (flat) chest just had some surgery. And that’s a super fucking cool feeling, having my chest feel like MINE, finally feel familiar.

My mom thanked my surgeon yesterday for “that (my) smile” and said “it was an overnight difference with him. I can just see him glowing with relief.” I think that’s a pretty accurate anecdote to leave this update off on. More to come as things progress.

Side note- If anyone has any questions about top surgery, drains, hematomas, or anything adjacent, I’m happy to talk! My DMs are always open. I’m by no means an expert or qualified doctor, but I’m always happy to share my experience in the hope that it helps someone else.

[brotherwtf]

Ooomph so this in my head in a non sexual way but

Buck x Bucky fit so much of an Autism x ADHD type of relationship.

Can see it at the Stalag, John not being able to be as active or have as much stimulation and picking fights and not quite seeing how he is scaring other people and Gale frantically clinging to a resemblance of routine and rules because that’s what makes sense.

Maybe a modern AU? But both would be using weighted blankets to regulate their nervous systems and help with symptoms. But they get stuck somewhere, maybe in an airport hotel with a storm system? And John isn’t coping well and Buck just lies on top of him and helps in that way.

Maybe in a WWII fic when there is a more accurate gap between the two escaping. (I think like three months? Or something?) Buck has put weight back on and John has lost more. Could be a weight moment where Buck weighs more than Bucky.

Bucky is back at Thorpe Abbotts. And can’t stop shaking. Buck helps ❤️

THIS ANON YES YES

John being ADHD coded is so precious to me, that boy CANNOT and WILL NOT be at anything less 100% irritating at all times, especially with his little anecdotes for Gale

"the unicorn is my favorite animal" babygirl you were BEGGING to say that for at least an hour weren't you? but you kept that in bcs you didn't want to overwhelm your bf when he just got to base? okay darling

but Gale being autistic makes so so much sense, him just wanting to go nonverbal and letting his outgoing boyfriend take up space in the room while you fade into the background? yep yep

definitely in a modern au Gale would have the most random facts for John, and John would just eat them up every single time, would present his own anecdotes about them and then get caught in a spiral of his own thoughts, which Gale always likes to see, likes to listen to him talk

John absolutely loves when Gale goes on little rants about what he's hyperfixating on at the moment, maybe in a modern au it's usually planes or something like that, he'll sit and listen for hours while Gale talks about it, it's one of the only times he can actually concentrate and is able to sit still for that long

the weighted blanket thing is making me giggle because DEFINITELY, John NEEDS to have something on top of him during the night or he'll just be vibrating, can't quite get his brain to stop running, the weight just sort of centers him and allows him to sleep. Same with Gale, he likes to have that weight so he doesn't feel like he's going to start falling again, maybe even in a modern au Gale has those weird feelings that he's falling through the air, grabs ahold of John whenever he does and squeezes his eyes shut to stop the feeling

Gale would definitely lie on top of John whenever he's getting restless, they're at a hotel or something and John's just squirming, Gale finally just rolls on top of him to get him to stop moving, God bless they're both so silly

[sidestepsam]

So random, but with all these new anecdotes about them coming out I just to say Paige and Azzi are so perfect for each other. Like Paige is so kind and sweet and then Azzi is so kind an a princess, like they just go together so bad.



Yep

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive

By Adam Piore

There’s still no cure for the debilitating condition. But some front-line clinicians are finding ways to help patients feel better.

Until Elizabeth Kenny shuffled into Dr. David M. Systrom’s clinic at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in May 2022, she’d pretty much given up hope.

Two years earlier, the 50-something actress took to her bed with COVID-19, feverish and exhausted, to wait for her body to repair itself. Instead, Kenny’s 101-degree fever lasted 70 days and left behind a series of life-altering symptoms that perplexed every doctor she’d consulted. She’d stopped sweating. Her body fluctuated between feeling hot and freezing cold. She had so much trouble digesting food that she became malnourished. She developed a stutter. Bright lights made her vision blur. The back of her head often felt like someone had whacked it with a frying pan. Her heart raced. But the worst part was the relentless, soul-crushing exhaustion.

Systrom, she recalls, “was the first person that when I was describing my symptoms, wasn’t going ‘weird,’” said Kenny, who lives in Arlington. “He was like, ‘yep.’ And then asking me questions that nobody had asked.” Systrom told her that “obviously” Kenny had long COVID. Then he introduced her to a series of unfamiliar words that she would come to know intimately in the weeks that followed: “dysautonomia,” “small fiber neuropathy,” and “mast cell disorder.” It was the beginning of a new phase in her illness. One with hope.

The US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention estimates almost 7 percent, or close to 18 million Americans, are afflicted with the mysterious condition known as long COVID, a syndrome that is so heterogenous, elusive, and difficult to treat, it took a year for some doctors to even acknowledge it was real. In the years that followed, the federal government has doled out more than $1.6 billion to study it, helping to make it one of the most researched diseases in any four years of recorded history. Yet we have little to show for it.

In July, the National Academies of Science, Engineering, and Medicine, at the behest of the Biden administration, published an official definition of the condition. Long COVID occurs after a COVID-19 infection, lasts for at least 3 months, affects one or more organ systems, and includes hundreds of possible symptoms and diagnosable conditions, scientists wrote. But there are still no approved blood tests to diagnose long COVID, no clinically validated treatments, and no cure.

The news is not all bad. Five years in, a small but growing cadre of front-line clinicians such as Systrom are beginning to unravel some of long COVID’s most vexing mysteries. In the process, they are achieving something that once seemed impossible: they are finding ways to help patients, including Kenny, get their lives back.

Doing so requires improvisation, experimentation, and a willingness to work at the edge of medical knowledge. Systrom and his colleagues discuss promising scientific papers and trade tips at conferences, on Zoom calls, and in email chains. Their growing well of anecdotal experience is pointing the way toward the groundbreaking research and clinical trials that will be needed to develop a standard of care in the years ahead as we grapple with a slow-burning public health crisis that shows no sign of abating. While the incidence of long COVID has dropped from roughly 10 percent at the peak of the pandemic to about 3.5 percent among the vaccinated, only about 25 percent of those who develop the condition recover, according to Systrom and other front-line clinicians.

In September 2021, Systrom was among the first clinicians in the nation to demonstrate a measurable change in the physiology of patients suffering from long COVID — and explain how those changes might account for the crushing fatigue that is among its most debilitating symptoms. The study helped establish long COVID as a legitimate condition and overcome the skeptics, said Dr. David Putrino, who runs a long COVID clinic at New York’s Mt. Sinai Hospital.

The study grew out of his experiences with patients: Prior to the arrival of COVID-19, Systrom, a critical care physician who runs a pulmonary clinic at Brigham and Women’s Hospital, had spent years studying chronic fatigue syndrome, also known as myalgic encephalomyelitis, an illness afflicting more than 3 million Americans. When Systrom saw his first long COVID patients — before the condition even had a name — he recognized their symptoms immediately. They were similar if not identical to those reported by patients with chronic fatigue.

To prove it, Systrom had 10 patients don masks and threaded thin, flexible tubes into their jugular veins and major arteries in the forearm to measure the concentration of oxygen absorbed into the lungs, passed into the bloodstream, and taken up by the body’s muscles as they underwent rigorous workouts on stationary bicycles.

Patients who reported symptoms of long COVID absorbed just as much oxygen into their lungs as those without it. But the amount reaching their muscles — oxygen needed to produce the energy required by the exercise — was dramatically reduced, Systrom found.

A growing body of research suggests that both long COVID and chronic fatigue are post-viral syndromes that result in chronic, low-grade inflammation that can damage healthy tissue and, in some cases, the production of auto-antibodies that can attack it.

Systrom and others have begun to catalog the scope of the microscopic carnage caused by the immune system’s friendly fire. Using skin biopsies, Systrom has identified damage to the vast microscopic network of small nerve fibers responsible for sending a wide array of sensory information to the brain. The brain uses that information to regulate involuntary physiologic processes including heart rate, blood flow, temperature, breathing, digestion, and sexual arousal. The result is a condition called “dysautonomia,” a failure of the autonomic nervous system often associated with diabetes as well as autoimmune and degenerative nerve disorders.

They have also identified reductions in mitochondria, the microscopic powerhouses that produce the chemical energy needed to perform basic cellular functions.

For many patients, these findings have been a revelation.

“He’s taken me from feeling completely lost in the woods to at least now just being on the edge of the woods,” Kenny said. “At least now I have a partial understanding of what’s happening to me.” Perhaps more important, Systrom and others have begun to find ways to blunt the condition’s most debilitating symptoms.

Most front-line treatments are still “anecdotal, based on our hunch and experience that we’ve amassed in the clinic over the past several years,” said Ziyad Al-Aly, a clinical epidemiologist at Washington University in St. Louis and leading long COVID researcher, who runs a long COVID clinic.

To tamp down the toxic low-level inflammation, Systrom often prescribes a low dosage of naltrexone, an anti-addiction drug. He and others recently launched a randomized clinical trial to demonstrate the success they have seen in the clinic. He uses Midodrine, a drug that can cause blood vessels to tighten, to increase blood pressure, which can fall dangerously low due to the problems with autonomic nerve signaling. And he offers Mestinon, approved to treat a chronic autoimmune neuromuscular disease called myasthenia gravis, to improve communication between the small nerve fibers and the brain.

Other promising off-label therapies listed by Al-Awy, Putrino, and others include emergency opioid medications that seem to attenuate brain fog, transdermal patches that deliver mitochondrial supplements, and antihistamines, which can be used to tamp down the overactivation of the immune system’s mast cells in tissues.

These treatments have not been validated by the Food and Drug Administration and the success rate varies by patient type, symptoms, and clinical practice. While Putrino and Systrom both believe the transdermal patches have helped their patients with mitochondrial dysfunction, for instance, Al-Awy has less confidence in their efficacy and is thus far less likely to prescribe them.

For Kenny, these medications make a difference. Today, she can move around her house and do things for five hours a day, instead of just two. Her brain fog has lifted enough that she can write for small windows of time. She no longer suffers from intestinal distress so severe she has to use the bathroom five times a day.

Her disease feels like a disability, not a death sentence.

“There’s this huge difference depending on which doctor you end up with,” she said. “I could have just as easily been put with a different doctor who doesn’t have Systrom’s background, who would give me that speech: ‘This is a brand new disease. We don’t know anything. This is all emerging. We still don’t know.’ I got lucky.”

[crimsonender]

I'm glad you mention people with metabolic disorders like, as a fat guy with a metabolic disorder it's really frustrating seeing how people dismiss that as a factor in weight gain and maintenance, including doctors :/ like the number of professionals I have been to in my life- let alone regular old ignorant assholes I encounter- who think telling me to eat healthy and exercise more is going to unlock the secret skinny person that they've miraculously discovered hidden inside a lazy fatty... like you of all people should know my thyroid numbers buddy

I also think that like, something got twisted here. If you're fat you shouldn't give up on your body. You should still eat healthy. Even if eating a perfectly healthy and functional diet doesn't lose you a single pound, you should still do it and it's really important to drive that home to people that are overweight because they are at a higher risk of depression and developing eating disorders, many of which can include binge and binge/restrict type disorders. Because fat people also have a harder time moving around, its just easier for fat people not to. But again, you should build up muscle strength and be able to move around comfortably regardless of how much you weigh.

Being fat doesn't mean, necessarily, that your body is swimming in glucose and carbs and salt, but fat people that don't see themselves ever getting "better" might allow for that to happen because of how much they hate the way they look. Thats why "healthy at any size" is an important movement. Its not about saying "yep. Any size is healthy no matter what!" its that you should try to to be healthy no matter what the scale says. Thats *always* a good thing and *always* better for you.

As a personal anecdote there was a time of my life that I had stopped exercising and didn't give a SHIT what I was putting in my body. I had developed a very bad walking gait that was actively injuring my joints. My core muscles were so weak I couldn't sit up in a chair for longer than twenty minutes without the base of my spine throbbing in level 10 stabbing pain that was so bad it made me dizzy. My gut health was awful and every trip to the toilet was miserable and exhausting.

Then, I started eating right. Then I started exercising. I opted to sit at my desk instead of lounging in bed or on my couch, in an upright chair to start building my core up again. I went on walks. I got a physio consultation and found out that I literally had to relearn how to walk, and even now have to make sure I'm not rocking side to side on my ankles and grinding the joint into the socket with each step, every time I go walking. I have not stepped on a scale in four years. I'm honestly not sure if I am comfortable doing that. I don't know how much weight I lost, but I know it's not nothing because pants that were tight on me three years ago now fall off my ass if I don't cinch them with a belt. (That i had to cut new notches into, because when i bought it I could barely buckle it up around my middle, but now the smallest notch was still too loose.)

I'm not really thinking about my size, I'm not thinking about the number. I'm thinking about how good it feels to feel nourished. How much I can appreciate the sweetness of young vegetables because I rarely eat things like snack cakes anymore. I can go on a six hour hike and my legs feel fine. (even if Im a little slow.) I am more in tune with my body and I don't eat until my stomach hurts, feel guilty, and then punish myself for the rest of the week by not eating anything... only to inhale everything in the cupboard at 2am because of how much I've starved myself. Going to the toilet isn't painful and miserable anymore. I am still fat. I probably always will be, thats the phenotype I've been given. But I just am happier, more comfortable, and more capable since I started giving a shit about my body regardless of what size and shape it is.

All that to say that distorting this and the ideas that go into this sort of positive, healthy mindset into "if you just eat better and work out you'll be skinny" no the fuck you won't. the healthy skinny svelte version of me you're making up in your head doesn't exist, even at my peak, even at my most healthy, I'm gonna be chunky and stout and I'm fine with that. And if you're my Doctor, you better get fine with it too.

[altruistic-meme]

HI @spaghett-onaplate YOU SAID YOU WOULD LISTEN TO MY SPEECH ABOUT GEOCACHING SO HERE IT IS :) admittedly, i haven’t really done it in years and also i am going to go mostly off my memory so a lot of the technical aspects will be dodgy since i was. 8 or 9 years old when we started doing it and thus everything was handled by my dad. but. Here we go anyway!!

So geocaching is, at its core, a world-wide treasure hunt. You go around to different locations and look for some type of container that was put there, sign your name in the log, and then put it back to be found by the next person. 

What is a “cache”? What does it look like?  That’s one of the best parts: it can look like literally anything! One of the most common caches and perhaps the most well-known is the ammo can:

But people will use anything! Other common cache containers include: peanut butter jars, pill bottles, tupperware containers, and fake rocks. Geocaches come in all kinds of sizes, shapes, colors, styles. Things that my family has found used as geocaches include: a literal battery, a bird feeder, fake pinecone, gatorade bottle. As long as you can fit a little bit of paper inside it, it could be used as a cache. 

Some paper? What is the paper? The log! Whenever you find a cache, you write your name (usually your username on the official geocaching website) and the date. This is used as a way to keep track of the cache, who has found it, how long it has been there. It’s really cool when you find one and find out someone had found the cache the same day you did!

Always bring a pen to sign the log!!! For some caches, there might be a pen inside the container, but it is always best to assume there won't be!

Official geocache website? Yep! This is where my knowledge is incredibly rocky, but I did watch my dad using it sometimes. But from what I can recall, the website is where all of the caches are logged so that you can get the information you need to actually, you know, find the cache! And it’s a community as well; people leave comments on the individual caches, saying that they found it and sometimes giving anecdotes about their experience in looking for it (ex. My family went to the bottom of a canyon here to get a cache once, and we were all dying on the way back up because of all of the stairs. We still make jokes 10 years later about the hellish canyon!). And, sometimes, they’ll say that they couldn’t find it, which does happen quite a bit! Either the cache was too well hidden, or a well-intentioned muggle found an old peanut butter jar covered in camouflage duct tape and thought it was just trash in a National Park, so they took it to dispose of it.

(Wait- muggle? Yeah, it’s unfortunate that the term is shared with that series, but muggle just refers to anyone who is not a geocacher!)

How do you know if a muggle has disposed of the cache you’re looking for? Really, you can’t. It can be assumed if, say, there are a lot of people saying they couldn’t find it and no one saying they could. But sometimes it really is just that well hidden. Oftentimes if it starts seeming like it might be missing, the person who originally placed the cache will go to see if they can find it since they know what it looks like and where it was originally hidden to verify if it’s still there. 

It is for this reason it is always advised to put a geocache back EXACTLY where you found it! This is not always possible, and my family has had to semi-relocate caches in the past if the spot it was sitting is flooded or it otherwise seems dangerous for the cache to be there. But as a general rule, try to leave the cache exactly how you found it in the first place so that others can find it after you!

Who can place geocaches? Anyone! I do not know what all is involved in it, but caches are made by people in the community! It’s not as though there is an official group of people who place every cache. There are way too many for that to be the case. 

Are geocaches only in parks? Nope! They can be found anywhere! National/State Parks (at least here in the US) are very common, but some other places we have found caches include: water towers, highway guard railings, the woods just off the highway, cemeteries, parking lots, people’s yards, community centers, libraries, museums. (Let me tell you, it’s really fun to be 14 years old with your dad, standing outside of your minivan looking at the guard railing on a busy highway. We have had people pull over to ask if we need help before.)

Okay, so what information do you need to find a geocache? The information that we used was usually: 

What size is it?

Micro (battery)

Small (pill bottles, fake rocks)

Medium (ammo cans, pb jars, some tupperware)

Large (water jug, birdhouse)

How hard is it? Easy, normal, hard, etc. 

Coordinates As in, the literal coordinates. We had a handheld GPS for this, but from what I can see they also have an official app which should be able to do the same thing – assuming you don’t go somewhere without signal!

Fun fact! Some large enough geocaches will contain swag! Swag is usually just small, cheap items that are a take-one-give-one system in geocaching. I assume it is something used mostly for kids, but it can be fun to see what kind of swag a cache has! I got a few fun trinkets this way. If you are going to look for a cache that is medium or larger, it’s a good idea to carry a piece of swag with you in case something catches your eye!  Travel Bugs are a special swag item! They’re different from normal swag in that you aren’t meant to keep them. They are often on journeys! You can pick up a Travel Bug from one cache, scan it’s tag to see where it’s been before, and leave it in a cache you find later down the road.

Where can caches be hidden? Anywhere – with one exception: caches should NOT be buried. They will never be underground. But other than that, pretty much anything is fair game! One of the most common places is in a UPS, an Unusual Pile of Sticks, which just means a pile of sticks that looks a little too well-positioned to have fallen naturally. But other places include: gardens in front of businesses (the first cache we found!), hanging from a tree, magnetized to the previously mentioned highway railings, underneath the cover at the bottom of street lamps, inside tree trunks. 

What countries do geocaching? From what I know, every country! I have only ever found US geocaches because I have only left the US once and we didn’t get one in Canada, but I know my Uncle has found them in France as well. This is a world-wide game! I hope to get a geocache next time I leave the US :) 

OKAY that is all of the information I can think of right now. I kind of really want to get back into geocaching now, make my own account! My family found I think over 5000 geocaches from when we first started until now, from all across the country, including at one point I think almost every cache in Georgia. So I would be starting way from scratch, but it would be my own adventure :) plus I would get to revisit some places! (maybe not the canyon.)

Questions? I am open to answering further questions, though again I definitely don’t know everything, I just spent a lot of my youth doing this! But, I do also have access to my dad who knows a lot more of the specifics and details than I do. I also recommend looking at the official website for more information as well!