#but one of these days ill get around to it

[p0orbaby]

Getting You Alone Isn’t Easy

summary: two reckless lovers, one ill-timed call, and zero chance of stopping

warnings: suggestive but not explicit

a/n: the length of time it took me to decide on a title for this was painful

word count: 1.5k

-

You’re draped over Alexia, straddling her in the faint, golden light that sneaks through the blinds. Her hands grip your hips in that familiar way, like you’re the last thing keeping her from floating off. You’re gasping, breathless, clinging to the taut warmth of her body beneath you as though the world is ending and this is your only way to stay grounded. Her hands, usually gentle, are digging in hard enough to leave bruises, but she’s sweet like that, knows exactly when you need to feel it. You can almost picture the bruises they’ll leave behind, thumbprints like violet ink smudged across your skin, each one a reminder that she was here, and that she wanted you badly enough to leave a mark.

It’s been a day, one of those long ones that started with a sun-blinded hangover, progressed into a searing headache, and then—once you forced yourself to actually acknowledge the calls you missed last night—moved rapidly toward near apocalyptic levels of panic.

Somewhere between the drink you had to “take the edge off” and the fourth one you drank without even thinking about it, Alexia texted you, and it felt like a solution, or maybe a distraction, though those two things are the same to you most of the time.

So here you are, in the thick of it, your bodies wrapped around each other, your mind slipping into that strange, dreamlike state where it feels like your skin isn’t your own. Everything’s heightened—her touch, her scent, the whisper of her breath on your neck. You’re right at the edge, teetering, and then—

Your phone rings.

Of course it fucking does.

At first, you ignore it. The vibrating hum is muffled against the sheets, barely noticeable above your own heartbeat, but then it rings again, louder this time, insistent. It’s like a drill sergeant at dawn, determined to ruin whatever peace you’d managed to find. You freeze, eyes half-closed, but Alexia’s hands don’t loosen. She’s looking up at you with an expression that’s half bemused, half annoyed, as if she’s only just managed to convince herself that you’re here, and now you’re about to ruin it with some petty, buzzing bit of reality.

You almost get through it, on the cusp letting it go to voicemail or hurling the damn thing into the bottom of your Birkin where it belongs. But something in you—a survival instinct, maybe—forces you to reach for it, fumbling as you do so. Alexia’s eyes follow your hand, then flick back up to yours with an exasperated look that says, Really? Now?

You manage to grab it without rolling entirely off her, though it’s a close call. Her hands move down to your waist, still holding you in place as you glance at the screen, and of course, it’s George. It’s always George. You swear he has some kind of sixth sense, an uncanny ability to detect the exact moment you’ve slipped into some semblance of happiness, so he can yank you back with some catastrophe or another. The man is a walking interruption.

“Don’t,” Alexia murmurs, pulling you back to the matter at hand, her voice soft but firm, her hands slipping up to your ribs with a kind of slow, determined patience. But you know better. If you don’t answer now, he’ll only call back five more times, and each time, he’ll sound more panicked, until he finally leaves you a voice note that’s somehow worse than the call itself.

“I have to,” you mutter, as you answer, attempting to clear your throat and sound like you weren’t just seconds away from giving in to everything she was doing to you.

“Hello?” you say, trying and failing to keep the breathlessness out of your voice.

George’s voice crackles through the speaker, shrill and brimming with that particular brand of theatrical urgency agents reserve for “crises.” He sounds faintly nasal, the sort of voice you imagine would belong to a man with an allergy to anything fun. You imagine him sitting in his cold, grey office somewhere in Soho, every surface immaculate and white, his expression permanently fixed into a grimace of perpetual disappointment.

“You need to sit down,” he says, voice pitched in that “I’m barely holding it together” tone that never actually means anything good.

“I am sitting,” you manage, though it comes out sounding more like a gasp than anything else, because Alexia—God bless her—is now trailing her lips along the column of your throat, completely unbothered by the fact that you’re very much occupied now. In fact, you’re convinced she’s doing this on purpose, her eyes meeting yours with that devilish glint that says she’s fully aware of what she’s doing. You pull back and give her a look—part warning, part exasperation—but she only grins, slowly, like she’s daring you to keep up the charade.

George doesn’t miss a beat. “There are photos,” he says, each syllable dripping with an ominous weight that would make anyone else think he was delivering news of a tragedy.

“Photos?” you ask, as Alexia’s hand slips a little higher, her fingers just grazing the edge of your panties. You’re barely holding it together, biting down hard on your lip to keep from making a sound. “George, there are always photos. What are you on about?”

He sighs, the kind of exasperated sigh he reserves for when he’s forced to explain the intricacies of your own life to you. “Not just any photos,” he says, voice dropping to a whisper that somehow makes everything sound worse. “These are… explicit”

“Explicit?” you repeat, your voice catching because Alexia’s lips are trailing across your collarbone now, her fingers dangerously close to places that make it impossible to sound remotely professional. “Define explicit, George”

He pauses, a beat of silence so thick with hesitation you can practically see his nervous, tight-lipped expression. “You and Alexia. On that yacht. Full-on… everything. Let’s just say someone with a very long-range lens took a rather extensive interest in your… activities”

It takes a second for the words to register, but when they do, it’s like being doused in cold water. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of everything—the sweat on your skin, Alexia’s fingers toying with you, her mouth now having moved to the swell of your exposed breast. You can’t tell if you’re more annoyed or amused by the fact that, somehow, your most private moments have once again become public property.

Alexia looks up at you once more, eyes glinting with something between curiosity and enjoyment, as if she can tell exactly what George is saying and finds the whole thing hilarious.

“So you’re telling me,” you say, trying to sound casual, though it’s hard with Alexia’s hands and mouth all over you, “that someone out there’s publishing wildlife documentaries of my sex life?”

“Don’t be flippant,” George snaps, though his voice cracks a little, like he’s barely holding it together. “This is serious. The Daily Mail already has them. And they’re… well, they’re explicit. The kind of thing they’d plaster on the front page if they could get away with it”

For a moment, you consider the insanity of it all—your life, reduced to some tawdry tabloid spread, the kind of thing boring nosey housewives read in supermarket queues. You imagine the headlines, the breathless, shocked tones they’d use to describe “the scandal.” Never mind the fact that you’re not the first celebrity to get caught like this, nor will you be the last. But still, it stings in that strange, twisted way fame always does, a reminder that your life isn’t really your own.

“I’m sorry, George,” you say, barely stifling a moan as Alexia’s hand moves just right, making it almost impossible to keep up the conversation. “But I don’t exactly have a solution for you right now”

George lets out a strangled noise. “Well, you bloody well better come up with one. Unless you want the world to know what you look like without your clothes on. Which, I might add, is not exactly… career-friendly”

You stifle a laugh, more out of habit than anything else. Alexia’s fingers are moving with that slow, calculated patience she knows drives you mad, and you can feel your resolve slipping. “Look, George,” you say, your voice strained, “I’ll call you back. After I… handle things”

“What? You can’t just hang up on me!” he practically shrieks, but you’re already pressing ‘end call’ and tossing the phone aside.

The phone lands back somewhere on the bed, George’s panicked voice cutting off abruptly. For a moment, there’s silence, and then Alexia lets out a low, throaty laugh, her eyes alight with amusement. She reaches her free hand up, trailing her fingers along your jaw, and there’s something wicked in her smile that makes you forget the world outside the bedroom.

“Where were we?” you murmur, leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss, slow and lingering, the kind of kiss that makes you forget everything else.

“Right here,” she whispers, her voice soft but possessive, and you can’t help but smile as she pulls you back down, your bodies tangling once more as you lose yourself in her warmth.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How to have cancer

THIS WEEKEND (November 8-10), I'll be in TUCSON, AZ: I'm the GUEST OF HONOR at the TUSCON SCIENCE FICTION CONVENTION.

I've got cancer but it's probably (almost certainly, really) okay. Within a very short period I will no longer have cancer (at least for now). This is the best kind of cancer to have – the kind that is caught early and treated easily – but I've learned a few things on the way that I want to share with you.

Last spring, my wife put her arm around my waist and said, "Hey, what's this on your rib?" She's a lot more observant than I am, and honestly, when was the last time you palpated your back over your left floating rib? Sure enough, there was a lump there, a kind of squishy, fatty raised thing, half a centimeter wide and about four centimeters long.

I'm a 53 year old man with a family history of cancer. My father was diagnosed with lymphatic cancer at 55. So I called my doctor and asked for an appointment to have the lump checked over.

I'm signed up with Southern California Kaiser Permanente, which is as close as you come to the Canadian medicare system I grew up under and the NHS system I lived under for more than a decade. Broadly speaking, I really like KP. Its app – while terrible – isn't as terrible as the other apps, and they've taken very good care of me for both routine things like vaccinations and checkups, and serious stuff, like a double hip replacement.

Around the time of The Lump, I'd been assigned a new primary care physician – my old one retired – and so this was my first appointment with her. I used the KP app to book it, and I was offered appointments six weeks in the future. My new doc was busy! I booked the first slot.

This was my first mistake. I didn't need to wait to see my PCP to get my lump checked over. There was really only two things that my doc was gonna do, either prod it and say, "This is an extremely common whatchamacallit and you don't need to worry" or "You should go get this scanned by a radiologist." I didn't need a specific doctor to do this. I could have ridden my bike down to the KP-affiliated Urgent Care at our local Target store and gotten an immediate referral to radiology.

Six weeks go by, and my doc kind of rolls the weird lump between her fingers and says, "You'd better go see a radiologist." I called the Kaiser appointment line and booked it that day, and a couple weeks later I had a scan.

The next day, the app notified me that radiology report was available in my electronic heath record. It's mostly technical jargon ("Echogenic areas within mass suggest fatty component but atypical for a lipoma") but certain phrases leapt out at me: "malignant masses cannot be excluded. Follow up advised."

That I understood. I immediately left my doctor a note saying that I needed a biopsy referral and set back to wait. Two days went by. I left her a voice message. Another two days went by. I sent another email. Nothing, then a weekend, then more nothing.

I called Kaiser and asked to be switched to another Primary Care Physician. It was a totally painless and quick procedure and within an hour my new doc's intake staff had reviewed my chart, called me up, and referred me for a biopsy.

This was my second mistake. When my doctor didn't get back to me within a day, I should have called up KP and raised hell, demanding an immediate surgical referral.

What I did do was call Kaiser Member Services and file a grievance. I made it very clear that when I visited my doctor, I had been very happy with the care I received, but that she and her staff were clearly totally overloaded and needed some kind of administrative intervention so that their patients didn't end up in limbo.

This is a privilege. I'm a native English speaker, and although I was worried about a serious illness, I didn't have any serious symptoms. I had the ability and the stamina to force action in the system, and my doing so meant that other patients, not so well situated as I was, would not be stuck where I had been, with fewer resources to get un-stuck.

The surgeon who did the biopsy was great. He removed my mass. It was a gross lump of yellowy-red gunk in formaldehyde. He even let me photograph it before it went to pathology (warning, gross):

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/54038418981/

They told me that the pathology would take 2-5 days. I reloaded the "test results" tab in the KP website religiously after 48 hours. Nothing was updated. After five days, I called the surgical department (I had been given a direct number to reach them in case of postsurgical infections, and made a careful note of it).

It turned out that the pathology report had been in hand for three days at that point, but it was "preliminary" pending some DNA testing. Still, it was enough that the surgeon referred me to an oncologist.

This was my third mistake: I should have called after 48 hours and asked whether the pathology report was in hand, and if not, whether they could check with pathology. However, I did something very right this time: I got a phone number to reach the specialist directly, rather than going through the Kaiser main number.

My oncologist appointment was very reassuring. The oncologist explained the kind of cancer I had ("follicular lymphoma"), the initial prognosis (very positive, though it was weird that it manifested on my rib, so far from a lymph node) and what needed to happen next (a CT/PET scan). He also walked me through the best, worst and medium-cases for treatment, based on different scan outcomes. This was really good, as it helped me think through how I would manage upcoming events – book tours, a book deadline, work travel, our family Christmas vacation plans – based on these possibilities.

The oncologist gave me a number for Kaiser Nuclear Medicine. I called them from the parking lot before leaving the Kaiser hospital and left a message for the scheduler to call me back. Then I drove home.

This was my fourth mistake. The Kaiser hospital in LA is the main hub for Kaiser Southern California, and the Nuclear Medicine department was right there. I could have walked over and made an appointment in person.

Instead, I left messages daily for the next five days, waited a weekend, then called up my oncologist's staff and asked them to intervene. I also called Kaiser Member Services and filed an "urgent grievance" (just what it sounds like) and followed up by filing a complaint with the California Patient Advocate:

https://www.dmhc.ca.gov/

In both the complaint and the grievance, I made sure to note that the outgoing message at Nuclear Medicine scheduling was giving out false information (it said, "Sorry, all lines are busy," even at 2am!). Again, I was really careful to say that the action I was hoping for was both a prompt appointment for me (my oncologist had been very insistent upon this) but also that this was a very broken system that would be letting down every patient, not me, and it should be fixed.

Within a couple hours, I had a call back from KP grievances department, and an hour after that, I had an appointment for my scan. Unfortunately, that was three weeks away (so much for my oncologist's "immediate" order).

I had the scan last week, on Hallowe'en. It was really cool. The gadget was awesome, and the rad-techs were really experienced and glad to geek out with me about the way the scanner and the radioactive glucose they infused in me interacted. They even let me take pictures of the scan visualizations:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/54108481109/

The radiology report was incredibly efficient. Within a matter of hours, I was poring over it. I had an appointment to see the doc on November 5, but I had been reading up on the scans and I was pretty sure the news was good ("No enlarged or FDG avid lymph nodes are noted within the neck, chest, abdomen, or pelvis. No findings of FDG avid splenic or bone marrow involvement").

There was just one area of concern: "Moderate FDG uptake associated with a round 1.3 cm left inguinal lymph node." The radiologist advised the oncologist to "consider correlation with tissue sampling."

Today was my oncology appointment. For entirely separate reasons, I was unable to travel to the hospital today: I wrenched my back over the weekend and yesterday morning, it was so bad that I couldn't even scratch my nose without triggering unbearable spams. After spending all day yesterday in the ER (after being lifted out of my house on a stretcher), getting MRIs and pain meds, I'm much better off, though still unable to get out of bed for more than a few minutes at a time.

So this morning at 8:30 sharp, I started calling the oncology department and appointment services to get that appointment changed over to a virtual visit. While I spent an hour trying various non-working phone numbers and unsuccessfully trying to get Kaiser appointment services to reach my oncologist, I tried to message him through the KP app. It turns out that because he is a visiting fellow and not staff, this wasn't possible.

I eventually got through to the oncology department and had the appointment switched over. The oncology nurse told me that they've been trying for months to get KP to fix the bug where fellows can't be messaged by patients. So as soon as I got off the phone with her, I called member services and filed another grievance. Why bother, if I'd gotten what I needed? Same logic as before: if you have the stamina and skills to demand a fix to a broken system, you have a duty to use them.

I got off the phone with my oncologist about an hour ago. It went fine. I'm going to get a needle biopsy on that one suss node. If it comes back positive, I'll get a few very local, very low-powered radiation therapy interventions, whose worst side effect will be "a mild sunburn over a very small area." If it's negative, we're done, but I'll get quarterly CT/PET scans to be on the safe side.

Before I got off the phone, I made sure to get the name of the department where the needle biopsy would be performed and a phone number. The order for the biopsy just posted to my health record, and now I'm redialing the department to book in that appointment (I'm not waiting around for them to call me).

While I redial, a few more lessons from my experience. First, who do you tell? I told my wife and my parents, because I didn't want to go through a multi-week period of serious anxiety all on my own. Here, too, I made a mistake: I neglected to ask them not to tell anyone else. The word spread a little before I put a lid on things. I wanted to keep the circle of people who knew this was going on small, until I knew what was what. There's no point in worrying other people, of course, and my own worry wasn't going to be helped by having to repeat, "Well, it looks pretty good, but we won't know until I've had a scan/my appointment/etc."

Next, how to manage the process: this is a complex, multi-stage process. It began with a physician appointment, then a radiologist, then a pathology report, then surgery, then another pathology report, then an oncologist, then a scan, then another radiologist, and finally, the oncologist again.

That's a lot of path-dependent, interdepartmental stuff, with a lot of ways that things can fall off the rails (when my dad had cancer at my age, there was a big gap in care when one hospital lost a fax from another hospital department and my folks assumed that if they hadn't heard back, everything was fine).

So I have been making extensive use of a suspense file, where I record what I'm waiting for, who is supposed to provide it, and when it is due. Though I had several places where my care continuity crumbled some, there would have been far more if I hadn't done this:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/26/one-weird-trick/#todo

The title of this piece is "how to have cancer," but what it really boils down to is, "things I learned from my own cancer." As I've noted, I'm playing this one on the easiest setting: I have no symptoms, I speak and write English fluently, I am computer literate and reasonably capable of parsing medical/technical jargon. I have excellent insurance.

If any of these advantages hadn't been there, things would have been a lot harder. I'd have needed these lessons even more.

To recap them:

See a frontline care worker as soon as possible: don't wait for an appointment with a specific MD. Practically any health worker can prod a lump and refer you for further testing;

Get a direct phone number for every specialist you are referred to (add this to your phone book); call them immediately after the referral to get scheduled (better yet, walk over to their offices and schedule the appointment in person);

Get a timeframe as to when your results are due and when you can expect to get a follow-up; call the direct number as soon as the due-date comes (use calendar reminders for this);

If you can't get a call back, an appointment, or a test result in a reasonable amount of time (use a suspense file to track this), lodge a formal complaint with your insurer/facility, and consider filing with the state regulator;

Think hard about who you're going to tell, and when, and talk over your own wishes about who they can tell, and when.

As you might imagine, I've spent some time talking to my parents today as these welcome results have come in. My mother is (mostly) retired now, and she's doing a lot of volunteer work on end-of-life care. She recommends a book called Hope for the Best, Plan for the Rest: 7 Keys for Navigating a Life-Changing Diagnosis:

https://pagetwo.com/book/hope-for-the-best-plan-for-the-rest/

I haven't read it, but it looks like it's got excellent advice, especially for people who lack the self-advocacy capabilities and circumstances I'm privileged with. According to my mom, who uses it in workshops, there's a lot of emphasis on the role that families and friends can play in helping someone whose physical, mental and/or emotional health are compromised.

So, that's it. I've got cancer. No cancer is good. This cancer is better than most. I am almost certainly fine. Every medical professional I've dealt with, and all the administrative support staff at Kaiser, have been excellent. Even the doc who dropped the ball on my biopsy was really good to deal with – she was just clearly drowning in work. The problems I had are with the system, not the people. I'm profoundly grateful to all of them for the help they gave me, the interest and compassion they showed, and the clarity and respect they demonstrated in my dealings with them.

I'm also very grateful to my wife, my parents, and my boss at EFF, all of whom got the news early and demonstrated patience, love, and support that helped in my own dark hours over the past couple of months.

I hope you're well. But you know, everyone gets something, eventually. When you find yourself mired in a broken system full of good people, work the system – for yourself and for the people who come behind you. Take records. Make calls.

Look after yourself.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/05/carcinoma-angels/#squeaky-nail

[chososlittlestuttyboy]

·˚ [featuring] !! ' jing yuan x ftm reader !

cw — :: !! bottom!ftm!reader. top!Jing yuan omegaverse, alpha!Jing yuan, and omega!ftm reader, knotting, Words like cunt, pussy, clit, etc used for reader !! ::

_

not proofread so, i'm sorry for any spelling mistakes !!

"(nammmeeee)" Jing yuan pouted, "hm??" you replied, your eyes still glued to the book you were reading, as Jing yuan moved towards you, sitting on the floor next to you, "I'm sooooooo bored" he groaned, "you've been reading that book all day" he tugged on the book, yanking it out your hands "pay attention to me..please??", you looked at him.

"ok, ok, I'm sorry" you said, finally getting up from your seat, "Jin-" you were cut off by him kissing you, "I've been waiting for you all day.." you felt him grind his cock on your stomach.

he picked you up, walking to your shared bedroom "I don't think I'll be able to hold back anymore...you smell so good.."

once you got to the bedroom, he dropped you down on the bed, ripping off your pants "those were my favorite pants...." you frowned, "ill buy you new ones" he then took your boxers off, your cunt glistening with slick.

he moved down, until he was face to face with your pussy, "ah..your already so wet for me, my love..you smell Devine.." he licked your hole, "mmh..hah.." you whimpered as he ate you out.

"this is driving me crazy, you smell too good..." his cock throbbing with Impatience, he then sat up, picked you up, then placed you in-between his legs, pushing his fingering into you "ugh..mghh!!" "you're so tight~" feeling his fingers going in and out of you, shutting your eyes as you felt tears swelling up in them.

"haa..ah..!" you gasped, as he picked up the pace, this tip of his fingers hitting your g-spot, over and over again, your body twitched "s-top..!" you tried to push his hand away, "ngh! uungh..!" you cried out, but, he pulled his fingers out of you, "look" he said before you opened your eyes, "you're so tight my fingers went numb" he grinned.

"its all wet" he laughed, "you're just begging me to fuck you, huh?" Jing yuan's cock twitched, before he lifted you up and lined himself up against your hole, before he even slipped his cock into you, you were already drooling with a dazed expression.

jing yuan thrusted into you, causing you to gasp out, "it hurts..! jing!!" you cried, as he prodded at your cervix, trying to push pass it, "ow! n-no st-op!!! y-you cant!! ugghh...!!"

"you feel so good..." he kissed your cheek, before slamming back into you, his tip hitting your cervix over, and over again.

-

how long has it been?? it feels like you and jing yuan have been going at it for days already, you couldnt even form a coherent thought, you were just a crying mess, at this point , "my love, whats wrong?" he grinned, "its only 5:00...remember~ we still have all day" you couldnt even understand what he was saying, he then switched the position, resting his body weight on top of you.

"you're too he-heavy..!" he was going so deep that your leg was starting to cramp ! You couldnt take it anymore.. "uunghh...!!" your toes curled, and you tried to move away !! but he just pulled you right back !! "ah, ah.. where ya' think you're goin..." he caged you with his arms, "too...! d-eep.... hnngh...!!" you tightened around him.

he flipped you onto your back, a bulge noticeable in your tummy, he grabbed your hand and pressed it down on the bulge, causing you to tighten around he so hard that he couldn't even move.. "hey..." he cooed "its okay, calm down.." he spoke, but you weren't listening, "hey, hey, i said relax..." he kissed you, causing you to calm down, "atta' boy" he contined to ram himself into you.

-

you guys have been going at it all day now... it was 12:00 am when you first started, and now its 9:00 pm.. and you're barely conscious !!

"uuughh.....!" this felt like you 30th time cumming... ! "please....n-nomore..." you slurred on your words, and you tried to crawl away, but he just dragged you back onto him, "you keep saying that...but your body says otherwise.." he slammed into you.

"i...can't.....hah...mgh..!!" He slapped your ass, "shh...i know you want it...stop trying to..get away..." he grinded into you, as you scratched at his back, "Do you feel me?.. you feel my tip hitting your insides.. feels so good right?" You couldn't even answer if you wanted too, opening your mouth only led to more choked out cries spilling out of your mouth.

"fuck...i'm close again.." he whimpered, he pushes his hips forward, hitting that bundle of nerves that makes you arch your back, making you see stars.

"nnngh...." he moaned, as he knotted you, it hurt, but fuck it felt good, he kissed your neck, you started to feel yourself fall asleep, "lets just stay like this..." he said, your eyelids started to get heavier.

-

-

(you beat jing yuans ass for getting you pregnant)

[signanothername]

Could we have some soft/comfort headcannons about anyone of your choosing? It's election night and I really would like something soft for my brain to chew on instead of worry all night

Absolutely!

Imma give you a bunch of different little guys <333

———

Killer:

-his cats help him a lot with sleep problems, they make him calm enough to the point of actually closing his eyes whenever he’s with them (reminder that he usually sleeps with one eye open xhxbbx)

-after he’s saved, he gradually becomes better at eating, he still avoids food that reminds him of the past but becomes more accepting of other types of food, eventually getting his bone mass and weight back, going from lanky to chubby <3333

-he eventually accepts the state of his soul and instead of trying to fix it, he tries to understand it, understand himself, he becomes a lot more gentle with his own self

———

Color:

-he has albums upon albums full of pictures he took over the years, filled with places he visited, pictures of people he loves and moments he cherishes

-he’s very connected with so many people, and a lot of people find him to be a great confidant, he does a lot to help people where he can, he eventually gets the good he gave back with people taking care of him

-he’s in a queer platonic relationship with Delta and Epic

———

Nightmare:

-he has piles upon piles of gifts Dream gave him for their birthday over the years, he never got rid of any of them, these gifts are something he cherishes dearly

-he’s the one to introduce Killer to Ccino’s cafe, he actually did that with no ill intentions, and Nightmare himself is not really sure why he went out of his way to introduce Killer to the cafe

-he and Dream sometimes sit beside their mother in silence, just taking everything in, taking each other presence in, not talking or interacting, Nightmare feels peaceful during these moments, it’s the closest thing to the same feelings he had as a happy child

———

Dream:

-even though he has a fallout with Ink, he eventually remedies his relationship with them, they become best friends again

-whenever life gets too much, he goes to Swap’s house and stays with the swap bros, it helps immensely

-Dream never expects to receive anything on his birthday, that expectation is broken when he receives a gift from Nightmare, he never got another gift afterwards, it’s only that one gift, but it’s the entire world to him

———

Error:

-he thinks of Ink as his bestest friend in the world, he’d never admit that out loud tho dhdhhdhdh (they’re frenemies)

-he loves geno and Fresh dearly, they’re his proclaimed siblings, he’s more open about his love with them

-he actually takes commissions by making dolls for people who want them in exchange for chocolate as payment (his chocolate stock never runs out zgxggx)

———

Horror:

-He eventually finds a better relationship with food

-he succeeds at escaping from Nightmare and managing to keep his AU (and most importantly his brother) safe in the process

-he finds himself becoming best friends with Farm

———

Ink:

-his art is something others never see, but surprisingly, if you had the chance to see it, then you’d find it’s art the people they love most

-their fallout with Dream actually hurt him, so when he and Dream got back to being besties, they felt very happy about it

-he loves spending time with Color, Epic and Delta cause of their constant traveling habits, they’re very entertaining to be around

-while they spend most his time in the doodlesphere, the second place you’ll most likely see them in is with their parents in the omega timeline, he loves them with all his heart

———

These are the ones I can think of off the top of my head hdhdhdhdh hope they’re enough to rotate in your brain all day <333333

[onlymimiwastaken]

Warrior Penelope stuff cause I've been listening to too many EPIC genderbent covers, and I wanted to give my take on it (also cuz I kinda want to draw it one day)

- Ares as Penelope's patron, absolutely! But Ares was never too worshipped in Greece, not even in Sparta (no one kinda gave a shit about him except for during war and thought he was kinda gross). So my lore take version thing is that ATHENA wanted to be Penelope's patron (she had already an eye on Ody kinda) but Ares saw his chance, got to it first and became attached to Penelope without wanting to admit it, also because she saw the good and useful in him. Athena still watches over Penelope (especially after her and Ares platonically break up, which she finds really stupid) and is the one who does her best to protect Ithaca while she's gone. She's by Ody's side while he misses his wife and is mostly the reason why the Suitors hadn't taken over yet.

- To get Ares to realize his mistake, Athena tricks him into helping Telemachus defeat Antinous in Little Wolf because free bloodshed, only to end up sensitized by Telemachus because holy shit, my friend's son is here almost dying to this ASSHOLE who thinks he's so much stronger than MY friend the queen and even me like who tf does he think he is. Athena makes Ares fucking rational for once. And maybe even Aphrodite, as well, gets some damn sense in his mind like "they love each other like you and I and my girl is doing her best to get home you're going to apologize rn"

- ctimene holds a claymore double her height with no problems

- penelope is more "cold ruthless" than Odysseus, in a way that she's still poised (until the end or when she's really brought to her knees which is disturbing) while doing merciless stuff. She's emotionless a lot more (just on the surface)

- Ares was the one to give Penelope the idea of going to war instead of Odysseus, for obvious reasons. And Pen is really a mastermind among the Greeks ofc

- Ares and Pen fought in their My Goodbye version because she "held back her power while her friends got devoured" "she didn't even fight Polyphemus, didn't even TRY to kill him" "hid behind her wits to get things done". Because when fighting Polyphemus, she knew that if she tried to kill Polyphemus while he was asleep, they'd be stuck in that cave forever (like in the real Odyssey). And knew that fighting while her friends got killed would slow them down and probably get more people dead. And when they ran away, she didn't go back to kill the Cyclops even if she could've because of yes, mercy, but also because she would've awakened all the other Cyclops and sailing away was faster, better. Ares deemed this cowardice. Crazy thing, since one of the most important things to him is courage.

- Ares overstimates Penelope's power. Like, yes, she's exceptional, but still HUMAN. With her limits. He hasn't dealt with a human personally in years so he doesn't understand this, so his expectations are ridiculously high, which ends up breaking Penelope.

- During 600 strike, Penelope can actually breathe underwater and not hold her breath for such a long time and be fine because she's half naiad (yes, they are fresh water nymphs but still). Also this may make her even stronger around water (to a certain degree, she's still very mortal)

- calypso is pansexual

this is already a lot, ill add more when i think about it lol (also if i realize any of these ideas don't make sense)

[ayyy-pee]

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐈𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟲 - 𝗠𝗶𝘅𝗲𝗱 𝗙𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi - Masterlist

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Black Female Reader

Summary: A surprise around every corner.

Genre: Pregnancy AU

Story Warning:Smut, Vaginal Sex, Angst, Fluff Sometimes, Profanity, Friends with Benefits, Mental Health Discussions, Therapy, Mental Health Struggles (Suguru), Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Overprotective, Possessive, Accidental Pregnancy, Unprotected Sex, Pregnancy Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Reader is black female reader who uses she/her pronouns but anyone can read!

Click here to read on Ao3!

Suguru Art by: Ilameys

A/N: I can't believe I randomly pumped out a chapter of this after like a year+ hiatus. Idk when the next time I'll update this one is so enjoy! LOL

Shoko’s slender fingers swipe along your stomach, a warm towel cleaning the ultrasound jelly from your skin before she gently pulls your gown back down. 

“So…” Shoko breathes as she watches Suguru gently help you to sit up. “Any questions?”

You glance up at Suguru who peers down at you. Your hand still holds his tightly. In his other hand, he holds one of the photos Shoko took of your baby. It matches the one in your free hand. He’s been so quiet, didn’t utter a word while he watched Shoko carefully slid the ultrasound scanner along your skin to take photographs and the measurements of the baby, but you could feel his pulse race with every movement of the tiny being on the screen.

“How far along am I?” Your voice is hardly above a whisper, trembling with every syllable.

“Baby is measuring around 18 weeks, give or take a few days. But everything looks good so far, and you’re looking good as well. How’s your morning sickness?”

Suguru shifts next to you, brows furrowed. Since breaking the news to him, he’s been able to put 2 and 2 together and figured out that your months long illness was simply your baby rejecting every attempt to eat or drink anything.

You nod. “It was brutal, but I’m feeling good most of the time now.”

From your peripheral, you see the way Suguru purses his lips together and you half expect him to make a snarky remark. But just like his presence here today, he surprises you when he takes your hand in his and whispers, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

And it has to be the hormones that have tears forming in the corners of your eyes. It’s not his fault he wasn’t there for you. In fact, he had tried to be there for you many times even if he had no idea what the real cause of your sickness was. You haven’t forgotten the endless bowls of soup he’d brought you when he first found out you were sick and refused to see him, or the texts and calls that you rejected when he tried checking on you. You can appreciate that, appreciate him. The fact that Suguru has always been kind to you, always been a friend to you. Even when you weren’t deserving, when you weren’t a good friend to him. You give him a small smile, taking his hand in yours and squeezing gently. You don’t need to say anything for your apology to come through loud and clear, because when Suguru squeezes your hand back, you know he’s moved past it.

“Okay. Let me know if it starts back up again. I can prescribe you something to help. Take your prenatals,” Shoko interrupts, not caring in the least about your little tender moment with your child’s father. She stands tall, slipping her hands into her white coat pockets. “It’s crucial for the baby’s health, and yours. Pregnancy has a funny way of fucking with your cursed energy and those vitamins are specially made for pregnant Sorcerers.”

“I will,” You agree and Shoko smiles at you, then at Suguru.

“Alright, I’ll let you get dressed, but you’re all set. Let me know if you have any questions or call me if anything comes up.”

With that she leaves, patting Suguru on his shoulder on her way out. You shoot him a questioning look. “What was that about?”

Suguru slips a hand behind your back, slowly helping you to get comfortable. He shrugs. “Who knows? Do you…” He motions to the door with his thumb. “Do you want me to leave so you can get dressed?”

A small laugh bubbles from your chest. “What would that matter? It’s not like you haven’t seen everything already.” You extend your arm, motioning to the chair where your clothes lie. “Will you hand those to me please?”

Suguru does so without question. He stands there, staring at a point on the wall while you dress yourself, still wanting to be respectful. Now that the appointment is over and Shoko (and the ultrasound machine) are no longer there to act as a buffer, it’s a bit awkward. You slip your shirt on, carefully sliding off of the bed with Suguru’s help. You can’t help but giggle at the way he gently makes sure you’re stable before he releases his hold on you.

”I’m not huge just yet. I’m still able to get around well.”

Suguru just shrugs, a light rose color dusting his cheeks. “Kinda can’t wait to see your belly grow,” he mutters quietly. His words have your heart going into overdrive, and you stare up at him wide eyed. “Can’t ever be careful, by the way. I don’t mind helping you out.”

You bite your lip to suppress the smile fighting to take over and nod. He’s right. You should let him help you. He wants to.

“You hungry?” He asks, carefully slipping the ultrasound picture in his jacket pocket and patting it affectionately. “We can grab some lunch and maybe talk…about everything.”

He holds his hand out to you and you take it immediately. “I’d like that.”

-

“Be back by curfew,” Satoru grunts from behind Ijichi’s desk. He’s got his enormous feet propped up on the day pass paperwork he’s just signed off granting Suguru permission to leave the campus with you. The assistant stands to the side, jittery and sweating as his eyes dart between the former friends. 

This is the norm for Suguru. If ever he needs to leave campus, Satoru is required to sign off on it.

The higher ups probably feel it’s better to have The Strongest around to make sure nothing is amiss when releasing a recovering mass murderer into the public even for a few hours. They must be pretty confident that this time around, he won’t hesitate to do what needs to be done.

“I know,” you assure Satoru because Suguru isn't going to. He knows that Satoru isn’t going to acknowledge him. Especially when Satoru makes it painfully clear that he isn't, his entire body turned away from him to face you. If Satoru’s attitude toward Suguru bothers him at all, he doesn’t let it show. He’s leaning against the wall of Ijichi’s office, gaze set on you as you handle what needs to be done. He’s used to this procedure already, so he’s just ready to get out of here.

You sign your name on the dotted line of the last sheet of the stack, agreeing to take on sole responsibility for the man beside you. When you slide the papers over to Satoru, the man sits up, face serious. His lips are set in a hard line and you think he’s looking at you. You really can’t tell behind that damned blindfold of his, but yeah…you’re fairly certain he’s staring at you. You don’t know Satoru all that well. Not even as well as Ijichi, and definitely not as well as Suguru, but to be under the gaze of The Six Eyes probably feels like what you’d imagine being under a microscope feels like. You feel exposed, like everything about you is being laid bare before this man. You don’t like it.

“You done?” Suguru steps in between you and Satoru’s line of sight, and you nod. Pressing a hand to the small of your back, he ushers you out of the office and into the open air where you feel like you can breathe again. You glance back at the office, just barely catching sight of Satoru warping out of Ijichi’s seat, and let out a sigh.

“That was so weird,” you murmur, turning back to stare up at Suguru. “It’s like –”

“He knows,” Suguru cuts you off, staring at the doors behind you. Like he can still see Satoru andt he look on his face long after he’s gone. 

“Huh?”

“He knows. About the –” he glances around, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “About the baby.”

Your heart pounds loudly in your ears, because for some reason, you hadn’t thought for a second that Satoru Gojo - the holder of The Six Eyes - would immediately pick up on the fluctuations in your cursed energy caused by your pregnancy, but you should have guessed. Now what’ll happen? You still haven’t spoken to Principal Yaga about your situation and you’re damn sure not ready to yet.

Suguru takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. He can see your thoughts running a million miles a minute already, so he tells you what he knows will calm you. What he knows without a doubt is the truth. “He won’t say anything.”

“How do you know what?”

Suguru chuckles, squeezing your hand reassuringly as he makes his way across the campus and towards the exit, your hands still clasped together. “Satoru may hate me, may wish I were dead from time to time, and that’s fine. He will never hate me as much as he hates authority, the higher ups and especially paperwork.” 

You find yourself smiling, believing Suguru’s words. 

“If Satoru reported your condition, he’d be required to speak to the higher ups. And then he’d be required to fill out form after form about how he found out and why that makes you ineligible to take on missions. Trust me, he’s going to take this secret to his grave until you or Shoko say something. Then he’ll leave the paperwork to you two.”

Relief floods over you, because you do trust Suguru. You know that he’s right. Who knows Satoru better than his old friend? While Satoru can’t stand the sight of Suguru most days, he’s still fairly the same person from what Shoko and Suguru have told you of their time growing up together. So if Suguru says he won’t say anything, you trust his word.

“But honestly, paperwork is really reason enough for Satoru to keep his mouth shut,” Suguru mutters, and you lean against his shoulder as you burst into laughter.

- 

You sit in a bustling cafe hidden in one of the back streets of Shibuya, waiting at the table for Suguru to bring back your meal. He’d insisted that he didn’t want you standing around if you didn’t need to and instructed you to wait for him. He would hear no arguments about it. This is a fairly new side of Suguru - doting and protective, and each time his hand touches you, your heart rate picks right up. It’s making you confused.

There’s always been a strong physical attraction between the two of you, obviously. But you’ve never entertained the thought of seeing Suguru in a romantic light. You’ve always been able to keep him at a distance simply by reminding yourself that he just isn’t fit to be a romantic partner. He’s damaged, and while he’s working towards being a better man, you’re not sure if he’ll ever truly get there. At least as a romantic partner, because he’s an amazing friend and you have no doubt that he’ll be an incredible father, too. But it’ll be a long while before you both get to hold this baby. Who knows what could happen in the remainder of your pregnancy?

Suguru stands at the counter, waiting for your orders to be finished and it’s the first time since everything has come to light that you’ve gotten to just observe him. Your eyes watch as he exhibits all the nervous behaviors you’ve picked up on in the time you’ve gotten to know him. His lip between his teeth, probably red and swollen from him chewing it so hard. Fingers fiddling with the bun that sits atop his head. Hands slipping into his pockets for all of three seconds before they’re right back in his hair.

You’re sure if you pressed you could probably find out what was on his mind, but then you’re afraid that he’d probe back and you’re not sure if you’re ready to go there with him just yet. You’re not sure if you want him to know that you’re giving thought to what the next step of your relationship should be. You’re not sure if you want him to know that you can’t tell if it’s the pregnancy hormones that have your heart racing as he grabs your order and brings it over to you. Or if it’s the pregnancy hormones that make your eyes water just a bit at the way he carefully arranges your food and drink and asks if there’s anything else you need because he’s happy to grab it for you. Or maybe it’s you, truly feeling this way because it’s the pregnancy showing you your friend in a completely different light.

It’s a strange feeling to look at Suguru this way. No longer your fuck buddy, but now the father of your child and…a potential romantic partner?

”What are you thinking about?” Suguru questions, sipping his coffee.

”Nothing!” You blurt out much too quickly, sipping your drink. Even with his brows furrowed in curiosity, you’re thankful that Suguru doesn’t pry any further.

“Okay…” He unwraps his meal, a black bean burger on wheat. “So, how are you feeling after the appointment?”

For some reason, his concern for you makes your heart swell. Even after you keeping this pregnancy a secret from him, and after everything that followed, his concern is you first.

‘No, his concern is for the baby,’ you try to reason. 

“I feel good. What about you? Wasn’t it so weird to see the baby?” You chuckle, taking a bite of your meal.

Suguru nods. “Yeah, a little. But if anything, it made everything feel a little more real. Like…my child is in there. And before we know it we’ll be holding them.” He shakes his head, eyes roaming your face. “Makes me wonder what they’ll be like…what they’ll look like. Will they have my eyes? Your curls? Will they inherit either of our cursed techniques or one of their own? Or…” he swallows a piece of his burger, but you don’t miss the brief flash of bitterness on his face, disappearing as quickly as it came before he continues, “…what if they have cursed energy at all?”

Your stomach drops, and a wave of nauseousness washes over you. Of course he’s worried about that. Why wouldn’t he be? Cursed energy is everything to him. It’s what separates him, you, all Sorcerers from the rest of the world that he deems too unworthy to be in his presence. Why would he ever want a child that doesn’t have cursed energy?

“...does that make a difference?” You’re scared to ask, but you have to know. Will his child not having cursed energy be the catalyst of whatever this relationship between you two may end up being?

Suguru takes a while to answer. Probably longer than you would have liked. It makes your nerves worse, makes your lip quiver because you’re afraid. You’re so afraid that he’ll look you in the eye and say yes. Yes, it matters to him. Yes, it will make a difference to him whether his child has cursed energy or not. Maybe he won’t be involved if they don’t. And that hurts you more than anything. To think that Suguru may think your child is as worthless as any of the other non-Sorcerers he sees on the streets.

When Suguru finally meets your gaze, he has what looks like something similar to shame behind them.

“Can I be honest with you?” He asks, combing his fingers through his hair. That nervous tick that now you wish you weren’t so familiar with. But you nod anyway. You want to hear him out. “I…” He sighs. You can see the wheels turning in his head, and you know he’s trying to be careful about the words that come out of his mouth next. “I…can’t lie and say I wouldn’t be disappointed if they didn’t have cursed energy.”

You feel yourself deflate. Why was that even important? Why would that matter?

“But,” he interrupts your spiraling thoughts. “I wouldn’t love them any less, I don’t think. Honestly, it’s a confusing feeling. I should probably talk to my therapist about it.” He shrugs, like he didn’t just strap you into a rollercoaster and send you on one hell of an emotional ride. 

“ I want to be there for this baby - for you - no matter what they turn out like.”

You want to cry, burst into tears right in the middle of this cafe. It’s the pregnancy hormones, you swear. It’s definitely the hormones that have you wanting to bawl your eyes out in front of this man and tell Suguru that after everything…after all the pain that you caused him…you’re so happy that he was able to forgive you, so relieved that he wants to be involved, so damn glad that he wants to love his baby. But you tuck away the hope that maybe he’d want to love you, too one day. Because…it’s the hormones talking. 

You were so worried, and for nothing. For Suguru to bring up therapy at all regarding this topic. You know he’s taking this seriously. And all because he wants to be there for you and for the baby. You give him a soft smile, and he shyly returns it.

“I do have one thing I wanted to bring up.” He inhales deeply, steeling himself. “Are you alright with the twins knowing? They always did want a sibling.”

Your heart melts. It’s so sweet that he’d want the girls - his first daughters - to know about the baby on the way.

“Yes! Of course. We can talk about when’s a good time to tell them…”

And you do just that. You plan on when to tell Mimiko and Nanako. You talk about baby names. Does he prefer a boy or a girl? And as you would expect, he’s not picky. As long as they’re strong and healthy. He tells you he hopes they have your eyes - kind and gentle. And you tell him you hope they have his smile, the one you know is genuine. He wants them to have curly hair, just like you. And you want them to be as smart as their father.

It’s oddly domestic, sitting around in this cafe, planning for a baby with a man who just a few weeks ago, you weren’t sure you ever wanted to know about this. It’s warm, comfortable, even safe. But here you are…making it work.

-

You ascend the steps of Jujutsu High with Suguru in tow. He’s slowly following behind you, just in case you slip and fall back and he has to catch you.

“I read pregnancy throws your balance off quite a bit,” he’d told you when he insisted you walk ahead of him. Worry was etched heavily between his brows. You just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him no.

You’re kind of glad you listened, because you’re practically gasping for air the higher you go. Were there always so many damn stairs here? Why did they need this many steps? And was it always so hard for you to climb up them? Your body feels like you’re dragging a bag of weights attached to your legs, exhaustion slowing you down by the second.

“Fuck this,” you pant, hands on your hips as you pause to catch your breath.

Behind you, Suguru chuckles. He holds his arm out for you and you grab hold, happily letting him drag you the rest of the way.

When you reach the top, a tall figure is already waiting. His thick arms are folded across his chest, eyes taking in the scene between you and Suguru and you quickly separate.

“Principal Yaga,” you breathe, pretending as if you weren’t two seconds from passing out just a moment ago.

“What can we do for you?” Suguru questions, buying you some time to catch your breath again. He’s such a godsend.

“Nothing you can do, Suguru.” He juts his chin out, motioning at you. “I need you on a mission. Leaving tonight.”

“M–me?”

Yaga sighs, like it’s annoying him to repeat himself. And it probably is. “Yes.”

It’s mandatory. You can tell in his tone.

“...okay.”

You can see Suguru in your peripheral, head snapping towards you because what the absolute hell are you thinking taking a mission on in your condition?! But you haven’t told anyone outside of him and Shoko about the pregnancy. And Satoru apparently found out all on his own, that wasn’t your choice. You’re not ready to break the news to Yaga and have all eyes on you. Questions asked by your colleagues and your students, wondering who the father is. Then you’ll have to explain your situation with Suguru. And that’s opening a whole new can of worms.

It’s all things you’re just not ready to touch on yet.

And honestly, you’d rather figure out what your situation with Suguru even is before you let anyone else in on your condition. Are you together? Are you not together? Will you try dating? Maybe not? The situation is complicated. So you can’t turn down this mission. Not yet, at least. Besides, it’s still early enough in your pregnancy that you aren’t showing yet. You can get away with maybe just this one.

Though you’re not sure how you’re going to use your cursed technique when it knocked you unconscious the last time.

Suguru stands idly by, jaw clenched tight as Yaga gives you the briefest of details. He’s careful with what he says. You’re not sure if it’s because he doesn’t fully trust Suguru again yet. Or if it’s because Suguru is not assigned to this mission, so the less information he hears, the better–

“I’m going with her.”

Now your head snaps towards Suguru who is already staring down at you with determination in his eyes. Then his gaze is on Yaga’s.

“I’m going with her, if you’ll allow me, Principal Yaga.”

He’s asking, but like Yaga, it’s non-negotiable.

“Suguru…” Your voice is small, too scared to speak up and tell him it’s a bad idea. But you can see in the way he clenches his jaw, the way he balls his hands in fists, how his nostrils flare…he’s pissed.

It’s probably at you, your negligence in accepting the mission knowing that it’s dangerous and you’re with child - his child. But he holds it together, telling Principal Yaga that he’ll meet him in about 20 minutes after he packs his things. He wants to get more information about this mission that was just so important you had to be the one to go. 

When you call after him, he doesn’t spare you a glance, his low voice sending a chill up your spine when he tells you once more, “I’m going.”

[plutoasteroids]

In Another Life- PAC

PILE 1 PILE 2 PILE 3

This reading is allegedly for entertainment purposes only. I am not responsible for any choices made in accordance to my readings!

TW: MENTIONS OF DEATH, G@MBLING AND G@NG AFFILIATON READ AT YOUR OWN RISK YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

This reading is to find out who your past life lover was

PILE 1

Your past life lover was someone very in control, they had a desire to always protect and be the one to bear all the burdens regardless of if they were male or female. This person felt like home to you they may be coming back as your lover again in this past life there is a soul tie between you both. Anyways, they have a lot of inner strength nothing really tore them down they constantly thrived to be better and honestly most of the time things never worked out for them but they never gave up they kept going, they were always so confident and held themselves with high regard no one could point anything out that could be remotely awful about your person, they were quite likable and attractive and was always the leader never the follower. In this lifetime they are bound to continue striving to be the leader and keep doing the best they can while also balancing being human as in letting themselves feel their emotions instead of living life like they are a robot.

For some of you it could be in the 1800's, In this lifetime they are born in the 90's or you were born in the 90's but 90's holds significance. England, Paris, Germany specifically Berlin, Japan, Switzerland

PILE 2

Your past life lover was very resourceful they could always turn a situation good or bad in their favour. they are quite smart and cunning, they were the type to run circles around you without you realising until the very end that they tricked you. Because of their ability to be able to talk themselves out of a situation they felt like they didn't need to work for anything. They could just trick anyone into doing whatever. They could have used any means necessary to get their way like their appearance and words which honestly may have led to a lot of issues for them down the line especially financially because eventually people caught up to what they were doing and in a way they were shunned and they needed to find a way to turn things around and change and I don't think they managed to do that in that last lifetime so in this new lifetime they will have to learn to be more humble and hard working instead of using deception to get their way. For some of you there is a chance that you will be with them again this lifetime but for the majority it's very unlikely.

(Bonnie and Clyde as well as Elvis Presly could point to just time eras not that they were affiliated with them but who knows maybe they could have)

England, early to mid 1900's, Elvis Presley, Bonnie and Clyde, France, Germany, World War 1, Cambridge, G@mbling, g@ng affiliation.

PILE 3

Your past life lover was constantly burdened by one thing or another mostly relating to not having enough money to do something else. Your past life lover may have been a sailor or fisherman and passed away quite young. Whatever they tried to do to make ends meet never seemed to work for them it was just loss after loss. They worked so hard with absolutely nothing to show for it after all that hard work and it was such a frustrating situation for everyone involved because they were always plagued by poverty and never having enough. At the end of the day when all that hard work was over their only source of happiness or peace was YOU. Things never seemed as awful with you around. Things did eventually get better, but it was a long and treacherous battle to getting to that stability and unfortunately, they didn't live long enough to enjoy it. They were plagued by illness at a young age and passed. Unfortunately, in this lifetime I don't see them being your future spouse.

Ancient Greece, Egypt and Rome, Papyrus, boats, tan skin, white, gold

[certifiedsexed]

I'm not sure where else to ask this but it seemed like an alright place. I believe something is wrong with me as I don't want to have sex. Or do anything even remotely sexual. I see posts and comments all the time of people talking about people and sometimes characters and how attractive and hot they are, but I just don't get it. I want to fall in love, and date and do all those romantic things. But I do not want to have sex, ever, and I feel like maybe I'm broken? Sex is always talked about around me as something everyone wants and will do one day, but it simply makes me feel sick and grossed out. Even the idea of masturbating grosses me out, it's sexual and I don't seem to like anything sexual at all. Although I live in a very small town, is it different in other places?

I've tried reading and watching, I've even watched stuff with just women in it! I tried masturbating but didn't get very far before feeling nauseous, I simply don't want to do anything sexual. It's very confusing and scary for me, I mentioned it to my mother and she said "You'll want it eventually, you just need to find what you like" but I never have and don't think I ever will. I've explored many different things but I always feel bored and put off at best, disgusted at worse. I don't care if others have sex, I'm not negative like that, I just don't want to ever be involved in it. Do you know what might be wrong with me? I don't want to bring it up to anyone again because they always look at me like something is wrong with me

- Rose

Hi, Rose! This is definitely a fine place to ask. (I love your name, btw.)

Let me start with saying there is absolutely nothing wrong with you for not wanting to have sex or do anything sexual. You don't have to have sex or be sexually attracted to other people. There's a name for that: it's called asexuality and its actually pretty common.

Not everyone has sex or "eventually wants sex". That's a very out-dated myth that has never been true.

I'd recommend looking for groups or even just researching asexuality online, Rose. There are so many other asexual people throughout the world and I think it'd be good for you to read/look into information on other people like you!

You don't have to force yourself to like sexual things. You can't force your sexuality to change. Especially if it's making you feel ill and you don't want to do it, that's not something you should be forcing yourself into just because others have told you that you should. There is no should with your sexuality.

Your mother is actually wrong. Not everyone likes sex! There's literally a sexuality for people who lack or experience varied sexual attraction [which is what you're talking about]: asexuality. There's also a word for the nausea and dislike you're talking about surrounding sexual things: sex repulsion.

You don't have to keep exploring things that make you feel ill. It's okay just to search out the things you actually enjoy or look forward to, like a romantic partner or even just focus less on sexuality itself and enjoy your life without trying to fix yourself.

There's nothing wrong with you, Rose. I'm sorry no one has been kind and taken you seriously but you're not broken or needing to wait for your sexuality to "kick in", your sexuality is fine as is.

I hope this helps! Let me know if you have any other questions, Rose. <33

[darkmold]

BG3 characters + mundane parenting because I’m mental illness coded

Warnings: babies I guess, it’s not specified how they and Tav acquired the baby (could’ve been theft), I liked this lemme know if anyone wants an npc edition, got depressed on Karlach’s entry oops-

Astarion

He requires very little sleep, so he’s typically on nightshift with the baby. If the little one fusses, he’d rather be the one to handle it than have his poor, tired partner wake up. Sometimes if the baby is being particularly clingy or petulant, he’ll take one of that week’s sewing projects into the nursery to keep himself entertained while he sits by their crib. Sewing project is usually a new garment for the baby- they grow too fast to keep up with.

Halsin

Halsin has wanted kids for so long but never allowed himself to settle down. You know he’s never putting that baby down. Carries them in a sling all day long sometimes just because he’s so thrilled to be a papa. It’s an honor to show them the world.

He would never pass up a chance to spend time with them. He knew having children would be require effort, and he’s fully prepared to be active.

Gale

When his partner is out and he’s left with the baby, he quickly realizes he’s not half as good at getting them to stop crying as they are. He tries everything that usually works- bouncing, feeding, changing, etc., but soon finds that the quickest way to soothe them is by using his voice. Gale runs out of things to say, which results in him carrying the baby around the tower and just explaining various objects.

“See? The metal points are called the ‘hands’. The big hand represents how many minutes have passed, and the little hand represents how many hours have passed…”

Wyll

Reads to his child every night. It was rare that Ulder had the time to, but he remembers his nursemaid reading to him frequently. It’s important to him that his baby get that experience. Plus, maybe it will encourage them to read more when they’re older? There are lots of good stories out there including the ones about their cool dad

Karlach

Keeps to tradition any chance she gets. She wants her kids to grow up like she did- with family gatherings, and sun melon slices, and stupid inside jokes. She wants her babies to know what home feels like. One day, the memory might be all they have left.

Some of her favorite memories growing up were of birthdays. They didn’t have a lot of money for presents, but her dad always baked sweet rolls, which is one tradition she’s not giving up on anytime soon.

[librarycards]

do you have any advice for trying to build/find a community? i’m autistic with pretty severe social anxiety and haven’t had friends since grade 5 (i’m 29 now). i don’t work atm and didn’t go to college due to ‘mental illness’ or whatever. i’m really clueless about how to find a support system or even make a friend but it sure would be beneficial right now i think

sure! a great way to start is to get on some of your local facebook pages, or even nextdoor - it can be a shitty place for neighborhood karens, but at least my local page has people talking about free stuff they're leaving on the curb, someone whose grandma needs a ride, a bake sale at the school, and even meetups dependent on age/interest/etc.

some more ideas, starting w the obligatory: GO TO THE LIBRARY! they have so much centralized info there. there is probably a book club, there is probably some kind of volunteer sign-up sheet. there are probably bored librarians who can help you find other stuff. at least in my area, there are also fairly regular non-university-affiliated things (i live in a college town) at local bars, cafes, and art spaces/studios - check to see if there are any local IG pages posting about these events. that's how i found out about a bunch of mine. libraries have events, too, as do local bookstores, and they're almost always free.

the suggestions i'm throwing out all have basically the same goal: mix with people you haven't met before. building bonds takes time, and the process only starts when you and someone else say hello to one another. you don't have to be besties ever. you don't necessarily have to stay close. but knowing one person who maybe likes the same book as you, or shares some other interest, leads to more people, and soon you know someone who has a car, someone who has an extra ironing board, someone who can host a get-together in their yard because everyone else is a renter. support systems aren't found. they're not easy or inevitable. they're built through collective engagement and practice! and they start, generally, by happenstance, when people put themselves in each others' way.

when i moved here alone in 2020, i met some of my now-closest friends not primarily through grad school events (which didn't happen bc of lockdowns and such) but through going to the park and saying hi outdoors; stocking food in our local free fridges, and meeting tinder-friend dates masked, 6 ft apart in random public places. we kept doing that and our relationships strengthened, as they do. these days, i meet people through the friends i have - through shared classes back when i was in coursework, through organizing/union stuff and volunteering, through the occasional social event i just kinda show up at and hope for the best. there's a degree of inertia to this stuff - it gets smoother the more you do it!

you are *NOT* the only person around you who needs a friend. i promise. people are really lonely and often scared to admit it, and this is a great time to connect with people who also feel the urgency of community + anxiety around making it happen.

[hoe4hotchner]

Pieces of the past | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader | WC: 1.2k  | CW: This is very angsty (and kind of triggering to me at least), reminiscing of childhood, centered around the memories you have of a dead relative, specifically your granddad, mentions of a funeral, mention of undisclosed illness. I mention the word church once.| Summary: Looking at old pictures from your childhood, which makes memories resurface, some better than other.

A/N: This is a very personal fic to me, and I wrote it weeks ago when it would've been my grandad's 80th birthday. I hope you guys will take good care of it --> Also the stories told about the grandad in these are half real and half made up for the sake of the story ❤️

You set the heavy grocery bag on the kitchen table with a sigh, the crinkling of paper breaking the stillness of the apartment. You’d just returned from your mom's house, and what was supposed to be a quick stop had quickly turned into a nostalgic trip down memory lane. The bag was filled with old photographs, ones she had kept in the basement - forgotten over time, ones you hadn’t seen in years. Mostly, they were from your childhood, while others were from before you were born - holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, and weddings - but the ones that hit the hardest were the ones of your grandad.

He had passed when you were still young, but the memories you had of him were vivid, and cherished, and every now and then, those memories resurfaced like the pictures you now held in your hands.

You started spreading them across the dinner table, sorting through the faded snapshots, organizing them by event. There was one of you, maybe 3 years old, sitting in a four-wheeled wagon, your grandad pulling you around the garden, both of your faces were lit with massive smiles - You could tell it was winter from your massive red puffer jacket, it looked way too big for a toddler, but it looked warm. Another one had him holding your hand while walking through the park, his old, weathered jacket wrapped tightly around him, you could tell he was already sick there, knowing that not long after that trip, he had passed.

The further you sorted, the heavier the ache in your chest grew. It wasn’t sadness, really - it was more of an emptiness, a longing for those quiet, comfortable moments you could never get back, a longing, wondering how he would've reacted to your life choices, how different life might have looked if he had still been around.

You picked up a photograph that felt heavier than the rest, your breath hitching as you recognized the scene captured within the frame. It was a solemn day, the sky gray as friends and family gathered to pay their respects. Your grandad’s casket, draped in a simple white and wooden veneer, stood surrounded by flowers, red roses to be exact - they were always his favorite - each bloom a testament to the love he had shared throughout his life. In the image, you could see yourself, a small figure in a white dress - it was the same one you would wear when your grandmother remarried 2 years later - holding tightly to your mother’s hand, her fingers trembling in yours. Tears glistened in your eyes as you remembered the heaviness in your heart that day, you were sure you hadn't really understood what was going on around you. The ache of loss was suffocating, knowing he had touched so many lives. You blinked hard, wishing to erase that moment from your mind, but it lingered like a ghost, haunting the edges of your memories.

By the time Hotch returned home, you were sitting in the middle of a sea of photographs, some placed in neat piles, others scattered haphazardly, the memories tangled with your emotions. You didn’t hear the door open or the sound of his briefcase hitting the floor. It wasn’t until you felt his presence that you realized he was home.

“Hey,” his voice was soft, and when you looked up at him, he already knew. He didn’t need to ask.

“Hey,” you murmured back, trying to summon a small smile but failing. Your eyes dropped back to the picture in your hand, a shot of your grandad, dressed in his Sunday best at his 25th wedding anniversary with your grandmother, his kind eyes twinkling with the same warmth you always remembered.

Hotch’s gaze followed yours to the table, his brow furrowing slightly as he took in the scene. He walked over without a word and sat beside you, his presence solid and comforting, even in the silence.

You leaned into him a little, letting your head rest against his shoulder. “I went to mom’s today, and she gave me all of these,” you explained quietly, gesturing toward the photographs. “I wasn’t expecting to… I don’t know, feel this way.”

Hotch slipped an arm around you, grounding you without interrupting your thoughts.

Your thumb brushed the edge of the photo in your hand, the texture familiar, like you had held it a hundred times before. “That’s me and my grandad,” you said softly. “I miss him. He always knew how to make things feel better, you know?”

Hotch nodded, his eyes on the photograph now, though he stayed silent, giving you space to share whatever you needed.

“I remember when this picture was taken. It was a summer afternoon. We’d just come back from the park, and I had scraped my knee running after the dog.” You smiled faintly, the memory so vivid it was almost like stepping back in time. “I was crying so much, and he just scooped me up like it was nothing, sat me on his knee, and blew all the pain away he said. It worked, of course.”

Hotch's thumb traced soft circles on your arm, a quiet comfort that encouraged you to keep going.

You picked up another photo, this one of your grandad during the last Christmas you got to spend with him. “This was the last Christmas, I never knew he was as sick as he was,” you murmured, your voice catching slightly. “He loved hosting everyone, their house was always open, whether it be people from church or his patients at work, always pretending like it wasn’t a big deal, he was so proud of it.”

The lump in your throat grew, but you didn’t stop. You wanted to keep talking, wanted to share these pieces of yourself and your grandad with Hotch.

“He taught me so much, not just the little things, but how to… how to love and care for people. I guess I’ve been thinking a lot about him today. He would’ve liked you a lot, Aaron,” you added, turning your head slightly to glance at him.

Hotch’s eyes softened, his hand resting on your back as he gave you a gentle squeeze. “I would’ve liked to have met him,” he said quietly, his voice was low and soothing.

You nodded, feeling the familiar weight of longing settling in your chest again. But being here, with Hotch beside you, made it a little easier to bear. His quiet understanding, the way he didn’t try to fill the silence with meaningless words to coax you into being happy - it was exactly what you needed.

For the next hour, you kept sorting through the photos, talking when the memories felt too strong to hold back, and simply resting when the words wouldn’t come. Hotch stayed right there with you, listening, holding you, and occasionally picking up a picture to ask about it, his voice always gentle, never rushing or forcing information out of you.

It wasn’t until the last photograph was placed on the table that you finally exhaled, feeling a little lighter, even though the ache was still there. You leaned into Hotch’s warmth, your head on his shoulder again.

“Thank you,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

Hotch pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Always.”

And in that quiet moment, you realized that while you couldn’t go back to those days with your grandad, the love and memories he left behind would always be a part of you - and now, they were something you could share with the person sitting beside you.

[mythicalmaven]

Beyond Boundaries - Oscar Piastri (PART TWELVE)

I'm sorry in advance for the angst, i promise you, they'll be fine lol! Next chapter will be very angsty as well (which ill post later tonight), but I promise you that after the next one, it will get better! <3 Just trust me lol

Sorry btw for the long update wait, I fell ill sadly. Just got a bit better, so immediately took the chance to update lol. Upcoming Thursday I'm getting surgery for a chronic illness I have, so i've written a few chapters in advance to give you some updates. Would you want me to upload them asap? or prefer it to be spread out more?

Masterlist ↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!norris!reader ↳word count: 3.2K ↳chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, ↳chapter warnings: friends to lovers, brothers teammate trope, kissing, talking about feelings, angst

↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, you both realize you might be feeling more a little more for each other than just friendship

It was the morning of the Japanese Grand Prix, when you stood by the window of your hotel room, bathed in the soft glow of the rising sun, when the faint sound of a rattling door handle reached your ears. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, knowing there was only one person it could be.

When you had checked in, you’d handed Oscar the spare keycard, giving him the freedom to visit whenever he wanted. It had become second nature, the quiet understanding between you two—no need for formalities.

As you continued to gaze out at the horizon, you felt a familiar warmth as two arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you into a gentle embrace. His chin came to rest on your shoulder, and you heard his soft voice, warm like a summer breeze. "Hi," he whispered, the sound sending a ripple of comfort through you.

You leaned into his touch, feeling your heartbeat quicken, but in the best way. "Hello to you too," you whispered back, your voice almost lost in the quiet of the moment.

The scent of his cologne, something undeniably him, drifted over you as he shifted slightly, his lips brushing softly against your cheek. "I missed you today," he murmured, his breath warm on your skin, the tenderness in his voice making your chest tighten.

Turning slowly in his arms, you faced him, your eyes catching his as you looked up through your lashes, teasing a bit. "Oh? Did you now?" you replied, your hands moving to circle his waist, fingers idly tracing delicate patterns on the fabric of his shirt.

"Yeah," he breathed softly, as though the admission was a weight he carried all day, now finally let go. His hand moved gently, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear with such care it made your heart flutter. His eyes flickered to your lips, lingering for a moment before lifting back to meet your gaze. There was a silent question in his eyes, one you had both answered many times before, but today, it felt different. Slowly, so slowly, he leaned down, and the world seemed to still.

His lips brushed against yours, feather-light at first, as if he was testing the waters, savoring the moment before fully sinking into it. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant, but filled with such tenderness that you felt your whole body tingle with warmth. He kissed you like he was rediscovering something he’d been longing for all day.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, your senses filled with nothing but him—the soft press of his lips, the faint scent of his cologne, the way his thumb gently caressed your jawline as he cradled your face in his hand. Every nerve in your body came alive, responding to the gentle way he moved against you, slow and deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world to cherish this moment.

You melted into him, one of your hands slipping up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. The kiss deepened ever so gradually, the gentleness of it leaving you breathless. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t filled with the electric tension of your earlier kisses—those had been urgent, as though you were afraid the moment might slip away. But this… this was different.

Oscar kissed you like you were precious, like he wanted to memorize every second. His lips moved against yours with a softness that made your heart ache in the best way. When his tongue finally brushed yours, it was slow, careful, an exploration rather than a demand, sending a wave of warmth flooding through you. The butterflies in your stomach turned into something more—a heady rush that made your knees feel weak. The kiss was languid, unhurried, each movement filled with an intimacy that spoke volumes, as if you were the only two people in the world.

When you finally pulled away, the air between you crackled with the quiet intensity of what had just passed. Oscar’s forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with your own, both of you a little dazed by the experience.

He blinked, as if coming back to reality, and a small, breathless laugh escaped his lips. "Wow," he murmured, his eyes soft and filled with something that made your heart skip a beat.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the warmth in your cheeks. "Yeah… wow indeed."

The moment stretched between you, neither of you in a rush to let it slip away, both basking in the afterglow of the kiss, hearts pounding, completely in sync.

Oscar absentmindedly twirled a lock of your hair around his finger as he spoke up, his voice still hoarse from your earlier kiss. "Since I can’t really take you out on a proper date… I was thinking we could maybe order room service tonight after the race," he suggested, his tone soft and tentative. "And, maybe watch a movie together? If you’re up for that?"

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through you at the thought. The smile that had been playing on your lips since the kiss only deepened. "That sounds perfect," you replied, your voice light but filled with affection.

Oscar smiled, leaning in to give you a soft, chaste kiss before pulling back. "We’ve got to head out in about 30 minutes, by the way. Lando’s meeting us in the lobby," he added, his eyes twinkling as he mentioned your brother.

"Right, sounds good," you responded, but hearing Lando’s name tugged at something in the back of your mind—something you still needed to tell Oscar. Taking a deep breath, you began, "Speaking of Lando…"

Oscar raised an eyebrow, settling himself on the edge of the bed as he looked at you curiously. "Hmm?"

You shifted slightly, scratching the back of your neck, feeling a flicker of nerves. "Well… Lando knows. About us, I mean. That we’re, you know… trying to give this a shot."

Oscar's expression softened immediately, and he reached out, taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your skin. "Okay," he said simply, his voice calm, encouraging you to continue.

You exhaled slowly, glad for the comfort of his touch. "We were having dinner yesterday, and you know how brothers can be. He just… knew I was hiding something. I didn’t want to lie to him, so I told him—about how I feel about you, and how we’re figuring things out, no labels or anything."

Oscar’s grip on your hand tightened, but it wasn’t in discomfort—it was reassurance. "It’s okay," he whispered, his voice so gentle it made the tension drain from your body.

You glanced down at your intertwined hands, the weight of his acceptance making you feel lighter. "You’re sure you don’t mind him knowing?" you asked cautiously, meeting his eyes again. "I know we agreed to keep things private, and I didn’t want to disappoint you…"

Before you could finish, Oscar gently pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around you. "Of course I don’t mind," he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. "Honestly? If it were up to me, I would’ve called you my girlfriend already."

A soft sigh escaped you, the complexity of it all pressing down again. "It’s just… complicated, Osc," you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder.

He pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, his breath warm against your skin. "I know you feel that way," he replied, his free hand coming to rest on your thigh, his thumb stroking you with the same tenderness as before. "And that’s okay. I’ll wait for you—for as long as you need. Even if it takes years."

A single tear slipped down your cheek, the weight of his patience and love overwhelming you. "I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

Oscar’s thumb gently wiped the tear from your face, his smile soft but unwavering. "Don’t be sorry, love," he said, his forehead coming to rest against yours, the warmth of his presence grounding you. "You’re here, with me, and that’s all that matters. Label or no label."

The sincerity in his words melted any remaining doubt, the comfort of his arms around you making you feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

⁺⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊ ⁺⋆⁺

You made your way from to paddock to the garage as you saw Oscar's call pulling into the pit lane, making his way to his designated garage. Normally you looked forward to this moment, Oscar climbing out the car and having your little post race debrief.

This time it was different, it was time for the plan that was made. You leaned with your back against one of the walls near the entrance of the garage, looking at what was unfolding in front of your eyes. Ava was standing in the garage, close to Oscar's car, taking the headphones of her ears, fixing her way too beautiful hair.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, your brother Lando. When you turned around you saw him looking at you with a caring look on his face "You sure you want to see this?" he whispered, low enough that only you would be able to hear.

You swallowed, hard. You shook your head "No, but I don't really have a choice, do I?" you replied, sighing softly "I'm always here after the race, it would be a bit unusual if I'm suddenly not there"

Lando agreed wordlessly with you, squeezing your shoulder "You struggling more with this plan every day, aren't you?"

You nodded, your hands fiddling with the hem of your McLaren team shirt "Yeah, but I'll be fine. I'll get over it"

Lando tried to keep talking to you, tried to keep you distracted so you wouldn't see the whole happening, the stupid media plan, but he saw the ways your eyes shifted to Oscar as he climbed out of the car, taking of his helmet. Lando noticed how you were watching Oscar making his way over to Ava, gently grabbing her hand, squeezing it softly. Purposefully making it seem as if he was trying to avoid the camera, while he made sure the cameras were pointed at him.

Ava send Oscar a smile, she looked genuinely taken away by how good Oscar looked getting out the car. Everything in you hoped it was just proving how good of an actress she was, but somewhere in you you were scared. She was pretty, in your opinion way prettier than you.

Your breath got stuck in your throat, a pang of jealousy stinging in your heart as you saw Oscar leaning down a little, pressing his lips to Ava's cheek, before moving his lips to her ear, clearly whispering something in her ear, something you couldn't decipher.

You felt yourself drowning in feelings you couldn't explain. You felt hurt, even though you knew this was totally planned & not Oscar's choice. It wasn't much, nothing more than a kiss on his cheek, but you wanted it to be you.

You wanted to be the one in his arms after the races, and not just being his behind closed doors. That's when you realized, you wanted to be his, and not in the way you were now. You wanted to be his girlfriend, something you could ethically never be.

You felts tears pricking in the corner or your eyes, as you turned on your heels "I-I can't do this" you stuttered to your brother, trying to rush off.

Lando grabbed your arm "Y/n.. don't go.. I want to be there for you, but you know I can't leave now" he uttered.

You knew he couldn't leave, since he still had some obligations he had to do, so you definitely didn't blame him in any way, but you just couldn't stay here any longer.

"It's fine, Lan. I-I.. I just gotta get out of here"

With those words you rushed out of the garage, making your way to somewhere quiet, leaving Lando dumbfounded in the garage, watching as Oscar made his way over to him.

Oscar looked in the direction you were walking, his eyes shifting back to Landon "Where is she going?" he asked, his voice a little timid.

"She had to.." Lando started, trying to come up with a lame excuse, not wanting to snitch on his own sister "meet up with someone from the medical team, something unexpected came up"

Oscar was a bit skeptical, but seemed to buy it. He wanted to speak up, asking Lando when she'd come back, but was cut off by the feelings of a hand grabbing his upper arm, specifically Ava's hand.

"Hey" Ava greeted to Lando.

"Hi" Lando spoke, a bit stoic. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It wasn't as if he disliked Ava as a person, after all, she was just doing what was told, but he just didn't like to see his sister this way.

She looked up as Oscar, giving him a small side hug, so she could whisper something "I think that was enough for the camera's, I'll be in the hospitality when you need me"

"Y-Yeah.." Oscar whispered, awkwardly hugging her back "Sure, I'll see you later"

Lando shot Oscar a knowing look as Ava disappeared from their sight, leaving the boys alone again. Oscar threw his hands up in the air "Please, don't even say anything" he whined desperately.

Oscar sighed again "Did she see it?" he asked, carefully.

Lando nodded, pursing his lips together "Oh, yeah, she definitely did"

Oscar felt himself freeze. His chest tightening, his voice quivering "Honestly, I don't think I can do this". The whole PR thing, I hate it""

Lando sighed, resting against the wall "Then why did you agree?" he asked.

Oscar looked around him, making sure no one would be able to eaves drop on their conversation "I didn't want her career to get screwed over because I couldn't keep my feelings in check"

Lando took a step forwards, moving closer to Oscar's ear to make sure he could whisper his next words soft enough "I honestly think this is destroying her as a person more, than you two going public would destroy her career"

It had been that same day, that Oscar had decided he couldn't do this. He didn't want to and he was going to talk to Zak about it. Tell him that he was to socially awkward for this, that he didn't feel comfortable. He wanted to say that he could come up with a statement explaining what exactly had happened between the mystery woman and him when those pictures of the two of you had leaked.

Though it seemed that luck hadn't been on his side. Every time he even got close to talking about it, something else came in the way. If it wasn't Zak, it was someone from the media team. All in all it had been over two weeks and he still hadn't spoken to Zak about it.

It ate him up inside, but instead of talking about it, he did what he always did. Pushing it away. Pretending like it didn't bother him. Convincing himself that he could do this for you, to protect you. Because that was what it all seemed to be about for him, protecting you from the media.

Every time he had confronted you about it, asked if you were still okay with it, you had lied to him that you didn't struggle with it. Trying to convince both him and yourself that it did you nothing. Oscar could sense that you were lying, but didn't want to press too much.

⁺⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊ ⁺⋆⁺

A few race weekends had passed since the whole PR stunt began, and you found yourself lounging on Daniel’s bed, playing video games with him. You and Daniel had always shared a close friendship—he was like a brother to you. Lately, since everything started with Lando and him, your bond with Daniel had only strengthened.

Today, as with so many days before, you’d turned to him for advice. Letting out a deep sigh, you shifted your gaze to the ceiling. “I think I might need to end things with Oscar.”

Daniel mirrored your sigh, understanding the weight of your words. “It’s getting to be too much, isn’t it?” he replied gently.

Your breath caught for a moment; he’d hit the nail on the head. You had spent weekend after weekend watching the guy you loved cozy up to someone else. You knew it was staged, but that didn’t make it any easier. It was taking a toll on your mental health.

“Yeah, something like that,” you muttered, fiddling with the controller in your hands. “I just don’t think I can keep this up much longer.”

“Why not?” he asked softly, careful not to press too hard, just enough to let you get it all out.

“Don’t get me wrong—I’m completely in love with him. That’s not the issue. It just hurts seeing him with someone else, even if it’s all for show. I know the whole thing will wrap up in a month, but it’s not like everything magically fixes itself after that,” you confessed, the words spilling out in a rush. “I’ve been sneaking around with Oscar for weeks, lying to everyone but you and Lando. The grid knows the PR relationship is fake, but they don’t know about me and Oscar. And even after the stunt is over, I’ll still have to hide everything. I can’t share photos, go on dates in public, or even hold his hand.”

Daniel’s expression softened as he listened, searching for the right words to comfort you, but nothing seemed quite enough.

You looked over at him, a tear forming in the corner of your eye, threatening to fall. Pressing your lips together, you tried to keep your composure. “It’s just… Oscar and I can’t ever be official. They wouldn’t have started this whole PR stunt if it were okay for us to be together. As much as I love my job, I regret taking it sometimes. If I’d chosen something else, maybe I wouldn’t be in such a difficult position.”

“If you hadn’t taken the job, you and Oscar might never have admitted your feelings in the first place,” Daniel pointed out gently, turning on his side to face you. “And they only started the PR thing because you two hooked up at that nightclub. It would’ve looked unprofessional if it was just a one-time thing. But it’s not; you love each other. Honestly, I don’t think anyone would be against you and Oscar being together. You two are practically made for each other.”

“I don’t know… it’s just so complicated, and there are so many ‘what ifs,’” you replied, more to convince yourself than anyone else. “Besides, we don’t even know if things would work out if we made it official. What if it all falls apart?”

“You need to talk to him,” Daniel urged. “Tell him how you feel about this. Don't give up on something magical. Don’t break things off just because it seems complicated. All paths lead to Rome, little Norris.”

⁺⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊ ⁺⋆⁺

After your conversation with Daniel, you’d finally made up your mind. You were done hiding, done sneaking around in the shadows. You wanted to be with Oscar—fully, openly, without pretense. The decision had settled inside you with a reassuring certainty, and today was the day you’d tell him. The plan seemed clear: head to his driver’s room after qualifying, catch him before he left for the hotel, and let him know how you felt.

Heart pounding with nervous excitement, you navigated the bustling hallways, each step drawing you closer to Oscar. You could still hear the faint echoes of post-qualifying chatter and laughter from nearby rooms, mechanics and drivers cooling off from the adrenaline. Reaching Oscar’s door, you lifted your hand to knock—only to notice that the door was slightly ajar, just enough to offer a sliver of the room within.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you leaned closer, peering through the narrow opening. There he was—Oscar, standing close to Ava, his hands resting gently on her hips. Her slender arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. Your breath hitched, freezing you in place as the scene unfolded. For a moment, your mind scrambled, searching for any explanation. But as her lips pressed deeper against his and their kiss grew more intimate, the truth hit hard and fast.

You tried to look away, tried to step back, but it was like your feet were cemented to the floor, your heart dropping with every second that passed. Silent tears began to slip down your cheeks as you watched. Oscar still hadn’t noticed you—but Ava’s gaze flicked briefly in your direction, a glint of awareness in her eyes. She saw you there, knew you were watching, and her hand moved up to cradle the back of Oscar’s neck, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, almost as if she were putting on a show.

The shock held you captive for a moment longer, but the pain soon snapped you free. Stumbling back, you turned on your heel and hurried down the corridor, every step growing faster until you were practically running. The people passing by shot you curious glances, but you couldn’t care less. You just needed to get away, far from the image now seared into your mind.

Blinking back more tears, you found yourself searching for the one person who might understand. You spotted Lando in the paddock, looking relaxed as he chatted with a couple of engineers. Noticing your approach, his smile faded, concern flashing across his face.

You came to a stop in front of him, breathless and barely holding back the sob that threatened to spill. “Lando…” you choked out, struggling to keep your voice steady.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” His expression turned serious, his voice gentle as he pulled you into a hug.

You swallowed hard, the words coming out in fragments, voice as soft as a whisper. “I thought… I thought he was mine, but… he was with her. I saw them… kissing.”

The realization dawned in Lando’s eyes as he pulled away from the hug, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You didn’t need to say much more; he understood. With a quiet nod, he guided you away from the bustling paddock, giving you the space to let the tears flow freely.

"I am going to kill the asshole.." he mumbled, the anger in his tone evident.

⁺⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊ ⁺⋆⁺

previous | next

Taglist @aceyalonso @saachiep81 @landosgirlxoxo @andruuu28 @il0vereadingstuff @silentreader128 @edixttor @sugakookie132

[shakethediseeas]

haihaii can i request alien stage x crossdresser male reader please? 🫶🏻

ALIEN STAGE WITH A CROSSDRESSER, feminine M! READER

MEssy! half bullets half bs i did more of a feminine male reader instead of a corssdresser if you don't like it just tell me ill re do it ;;;;

Whispers are common when you arrive. It's the fact that you're so pretty that leaves everyone speechless. You've always had some sort of feminine charm that made you the top hit, and you live for it.

MIZI

She was a bit surprised when she heard your deep voice when she first introduced herself. Thinking you were a pretty girl, she runs to you with compliments about your hair and outfit, and you look at her with big eyes before saying:

"oh.. thank you..!"

It's a huge shock, but somehow, that made you more beautiful to her, and so she'd double down on the compliment. Even better!! As she says.

She instantly marks you as her bestfriend. She loves making crafts with you or letting you choose how to style her hair when she couldn't decide.

"Hair up or down? what do you think? Maybe we could match!"

As you get older, your options of clothes become unlimited, so you get to perform or take photos in your beautiful dresses or skirts, and Mizi has stars in her eyes whenever you show her your new look.

10/10 she loves your style very much.

No one really judged you for it either because you were so charming, but if anyone ever picked a fight with you, she'd defend you 100%!

She loves it when you paint each other's nails or match outfits. She brags about it to everyone with a huge smile on her face.

Is super comfortable with you. She's not super touchy, but hand-holding and tackles are common.

10/10

TILL

He's flustered while saying hello (he's nervous around pretty girls), and you reply with a sup. He yells and goes, "WHAT THE HELL!?" Angry at himself for blushing over a boy.

He treats you normally like he does with Ivan, but sometimes, when you laugh or show him your new dress, he gets extremely embarrassed about how nice you look.

He'll never admit that you look pretty, though, he'll say something dumb like put some pants on or smt (he's a stupid kid).

You cling to him a lot to get an angry reaction from him, you find it cute.

When you're older you always invite him to photoshoots just to tease him or brag about your new outfits and he pretends to be angry but secretly your charms have kind of grown on him so he just huffs and looks the other way while you poke him.

7/10 I think he's got internalized homophobia so he's like trying to deny any sort of attraction towards you.

You force him to paint your nails or make him tie your pretty little shoes and he gets all mad.

Sometimes, RARELY he'll let you add some makeup on his face.

If anyone ever said anything to you, which was common because you hung around with a problematic boy, he might beat the hell out of them, and you tease him about it.

"aww!! you love me don't you! my hero! mwah!"

"get away from me, freak!!"

LUKA

When Hyuna introduced you two, he stared at you entranced, drooling, as always, before nodding and looking away. You swore you heard him mumble 'pretty' but he denied it constantly.

You always ask him what to wear or how to style your hair, and he just looks at you "..." before falling to his side. So you pick the dress that was on the side he fell on.

You held him around like a teddy bear, laughing at a joke you said or you'd talk about curling your hair more.

Suddenly, one day, he got the nerve to provoke you, and so you punched him and walked away, never talking to him again.

That is, until you are older. His personality isn't what you remember, and now he talks about how pretty you've always been and suggests clothes you should wear.

He always finds a way to arrange hang outs with you and he'd put lipstick on you, do your hair and pick your clothes and it pissed you off.

5/10 its a 50/50, sometimes you enjoy hanging out with him and other times times it feels like he's treating you like a dress up doll.

if he doesn't care for you, he'd poke fun of you for dressing like female but if he does care he'll tell you you're the prettiest boy around.

he wont ever let you paint his face unless you catch him while he's sleeping.

sometimes its a 8/10 because you like getting an actual reaction out of it with doing something he doesn't like.

IVAN

He observes you from afar, trying to figure out how to talk to you. Fortunately, Mizi introduced you two, and he greeted you with a smile.

"ah.. hi!" with a head tilt and a smile you wave at him, playing with the hem of your skirt.

He doesn't seem fazed at all by your appearance, in fact, it makes you more appealing to him (similar to Mizi except he shows no shock)

He's kind of clingy. Whenever you and Mizi are having a girl talk, he shows up and tries to squeeze in, and you two just glare at him.

He LOVES when you ask him what you should wear, even if his choices are the worst you still pick them with a huge smile and nod whilst secretly you're withering on the inside.

He doesn't mind if you paint his face or nails; he then shows them off to Mizi in a smug way because you only paint his nails.

As you grow older, expect MANY features with him, many many. You're his favorite person to do photoshoots or interviews with because he gets to hang out with you, and you pick his outfit so you match.

8/10, -1 because he's with you all the time trying to understand clothes and its a headache.

Not afraid to hurt someone who will say something to you and hold a huge grudge.

over all, isn't really fazed with your style of clothes but he does tease you a tiny tiny bit unintentionally

is the easiest to convince if you want him to wear a dress or anything you own.

dont shit on me plsess im nuob

[thus-spoke-lo]

pairing: silco x gn!reader. platonic reader & jinx heavily featured. cw: angsty. mildly sexually suggestive. wc: 560 a/n: just a little warm-up to get a feel for things.

Jinx loved you once (you think). Wrapping her arms around your neck, her limbs growing lankier every day it seemed, sighing into your shoulder at some childish inconvenience before grabbing your hands in hers and dragging you to her room to show you something new and fun and dangerous. You were a novelty, a brand new toy fresh out of the box, a doll for her to play with and then toss on the floor when she was bored and restless. But she chose you, often, and her attachment to you became currency, buying you even more favor with Silco than you earned all on your own.

You thought (smugly, stupidly) perhaps one day you’d be his undoing—be the liability he often said you were, muttered as a playful reprimand when he’d pull you into him, bare limbs tangled under silken sheets, hair matted against sweat-dappled skin. You’d kiss his clavicle, run your fingers over his sternum, grin as you’d retort something about always wanting to ruin a man in power and bring him to his knees. And to his knees he’d fall, his breath still ragged and strength waning, and he’d pull you to the edge of the bed and trail his long, slender fingers up your thighs, teasing you with warm breath and a warmer tongue. Perhaps you would be his downfall after all, you’d think as he muttered words of adoration against your skin.

But that would never be.

You weren’t sure when it was that it dawned on Jinx that you didn’t belong to her, exactly—that your presence in her life wasn’t even really about her all. Prying eyes and pricked-up ears and a deep well of sadness in her soul led her to put the pieces together—you weren’t just Silco’s nice friend who came to visit sometimes, not her precious plaything that suddenly took up residence one day. No, no, you were something else—you and the way you’d fall into his lap like it was home, the way your fingertips would so delicately trace his scars, the way his expression would soften when he’d lay eyes on you.

You.

You.

You were danger. You would take, you would ruin, you would build a wall between her and safety and security and love and keep it all for yourself.

And suddenly the warmth in Silco’s touch cooled. He called for you less, found himself away on business more. His words were the same but hollow, dredged of all meaning and left as husks. You still lingered there, even after your things were moved back to your apartment one day without so much as a word—you still draped yourself over him like an ill-fitting coat, trying to extract whatever drops of affection you could, living off the momentary glimmers of melancholy you’d glimpse behind his eyes when he’d glance at you sometimes. He cared for you still, you could feel it, but it was all just out of reach, placed behind glass too thick to break.

Those moments of connection sustained you still, gave you enough to keep you just on the edge of sane, your legs dangling over the precipice as you chided yourself, day after day, for your utter hubris. There was only one who would ever be his undoing, and you were a fool to think it would ever be you.

[the-universal-sun]

How do you think the Stan twins act when unwell/hurt, do they hide it or are they more likely to seek someone for comfort or help when regressed?

Thanks in advanced!

Thank you for the ask! Small content warning for brief mentions of the act of throwing up, nothing too much!

I think to an extent, both Stan and Ford, no matter their headspace, would attempt to hide any sicknesses or injuries. To the point a rule needs to be put place for both of them to tell when they not feeling okay, physically or mentally

For Ford, he’s just so used to having to take care of himself whenever he gets hurt that he doesn’t really think to tell Stan that he’s hurt. He’s had to take care of himself, his injuries, by himself since Bill came into his life, and even more when he was traveling the different dimensions. Besides, he may be little but he can take care of himself, right? Wrong. He may be able to put a bandaid on, but he doesn’t think to clean it disinfect it, and he doesn’t play any gentler, meaning he keeps running around, falling and hitting corners, making his scrapes and bruises worse, which means he starts to cry. Stan panics for several minutes, wondering when his Poindexter got hurt so badly, was Stan playing too rough? But no, once he got Ford’s tears calmed down, he asked what happened and Stan’s even more upset when he found out Ford was already hurt but just didn’t tell him. Didn’t he trust him? Did Stan do something to lose his brothers trust? Stan knows his questions have to wait until his Poindexter was big again, these questions would only upset him even more, and the point of regressing is not not stress. What Stan does do is clean and bandage any scrapes or cuts, kisses any bruises, and decides it’s snack time and then nap time. Big talks can come later.

It is different for if he’s sick or mentally unwell. He can’t really hide his sniffles and coughing (Ford would so have the ipad kid cough), but Stan thinks it’s cute that he tries. But he quickly gets Ford some cough syrup, a decongestant, and some warm honeyed milk, and lays him down in bed with a nature documentary, baby reading him some books at request. If Ford’s not feeling to well mentally, he still tries to hide it, and he does really well. Really only Stan can tell, but that’s because they know everything about each other. Stan can tell when Ford isn’t doing to well by how his eyes will shift aground rather than focus on one point. How his smile seems to turn up evenly at mouth corners, instead of tilting up to the right, his real smile. How he hides his hands more when he usually talks with them, throwing them around to explain his point. But since Stan can tell, he knows to be gentle and soft with Ford, wrapping him up in a blanket burrito, Dr. Mittens tucked closely to him, and softly rocks him. Or, after the twins find out and spend time with their small Grunkles, goes up to Stan, loosest sweater in hand, bundles into the sweater with Stan’s help and curls up into his lap. Stan only wants to take the best care of his Little Poindexter, so he’ll do or be whatever Ford needs in that moment.

Now Stan is different, not only because he’s a younger little, but because of how his trauma affects him. He’s so scared of being a burden, of being abandoned, that he will actively hide any injury, illness, or bad days he’s having because he’s just so terrified that Ford will get tired or annoyed with him. If he sneaks too much pudding and gets a stomach ache, he’ll keep it to himself, just sitting solemnly on the floor until he either throws up or whines too loudly and Ford asks him what’s wrong. Which is his weakness, if asked by Ford if he’s feeling bad or ill, Stan cannot lie to him because that will make him feel even worse than he’s feeling now. If he gets a scrape or a cut, he’ll panic and won’t have the mind to bandage anything, so he just winces everytime his clothes move against his injury. Ford watches his with a hawks eye when he’s little, so he can only hide his injury for so long until Ford’d on him, kissing his boo boos and cleaning and bandaging them. Stan always braces himself for lectures or for stern words, which never come. Ford soothes him with soft touches and gentle coos, telling Stan he’s not mad, that he can never be mad at him (true) but to “please please please say something the next time you’re injured, Lee. I care so much if you’re hurt, I want you to enjoy being little without worries of this, sweet boy. Please let me take care of you.”

I mentioned in my Halloween drabble that Ford has a rule for Stan to tell him if he’s feeling overstimulated or anxious, or just feeling bad emotionally in general. That rule pertains to both Stan when he’s big and when he’s feeling smaller, when he’s Lee. The rule was first for Stan when he’s Big Stan. He got overwhelmed in a busy crowd in Gravity Falls, and left Ford’s side to hide out in an alley way. Ford was so scared to see him missing and ran around searching for him. Stan felt so bad that they both agreed to Stan saying something if he was getting too in his head and anxious. That way, Ford could take him to some place quiet, to help him calm down and settle him. The rule extended to when Stan was Little after his first meltdown. He had a nightmare, never told Ford, and was anxious and on edge all day. And sometimes, when people have bad anxiety days with no way to cope, the smallest things all joined together can cause a meltdown, which is what happened to Lee. Again, Ford wasn’t mad whatsoever, he just felt upset that Stan didn’t feel like he could come to him when he was feeling upset and unwell. Now whether he’s feeling Big or Little, Stan will tell Ford when he gets to feel to much and Ford will take care of him, whether that means taking him to a secluded and quiet spot and just softly talking about inane things to calm him down or wrapping him up in a weighted blanket, his stuffies, and maybe a pacifier if he’s feeling little enough.

These two love each other so much :,,,))))

(Sorry if Stan’s seems much longer than Ford’s, for some reason, though I relate to both of them, Stan just inspired me so much)

[cyberrose2001]

To continue my Orion thirst rant:

Imagine he never left the Nemesis to be re-Primed. Perhaps the 'Bots manage to get onto the Nemesis instead, maybe Arcee again?

Imagine they try to get him to come with them, but instead he gets upset because he's almost decoded another set of coordinates, and he doesn't want to lose his reward!

Or maybe he does go through the ground bridge to confront Megatron, but you tag along/he takes you with him.

The 'Bots are aghast and Megatron's genuinely surprised when he looks between Jack and you with genuine contemplation. He actually has to think about either accepting and rejoining the Autobots or keeping you.

OR!

It happens like normal and he rejoins the Autobots as Optimus Prime and forgets about his rewards, but Megatron just up and mentions them like he rubs in Orion decoding the coordinates for him.

"-You seemed to decode them quite quickly when given an organic valve as reward."

The others find it hard to look Optimus in the optics for a while after that.

Even better, it actually jogs a few memories and he pops a boner on the spot. Optimus spends a few weeks in his berthroom wallowing in shame with a servo around his spike.

We could also go the child support route and have Megatron bring you to a battle one day, hands cradling a baby bump.

"I believe Orion has left you a little present, Prime."

I am mentally ill. :)

god damn.... both are great possible ideas

poor optimus though, imagine getting the most bangin' pussy of your life only for your memory to be erased

and the baby bump,, hoo boy he'd be fighting tooth and nail to try and take you away from the cons.